The Ring O' Fire - 135 mile Coastal Ultra Marathon

Another weekend, another adventure in the hills. This time in the form of a multi stage ultra marathon, called "The Ring O' Fire" - the name stands out for itself! It's a single lap of the Island of Anglesey - some 135 miles and 13,000 ft of ascent.

I was lucky enough to get a late entry to this event 3 weeks before the event. Since the UTSW I've been bitterly disappointed with myself but it has also given me a bit of a kick up the arse. So with the event entered I did a bit of training, given I didn't have long before a taper I put in a couple of solid weeks before picking up a very painful groin injury. With a week's rest, some panic physio and a shit-tonne of stretching and strength training in the gym, I was feeling less sore and excited to get to the start.

The schedule of the event was as follows:

Friday: 1pm Start of a 35 mile section with a 3 check points with cut offs final cut off of midnight
Saturday: 6am start for a 65 mile stage and final cut off time of 4am
Sunday: 6am Start for a final 35 mile stage with a final cut of 5:30pm

On first look the cut offs look like you could walk it. But add in to this, coastal paths, big hills, steps, majority off road and sleep deprivation and it's not so generous after all and looking at the results from last year only half the field finished.

My friend Doug was also entered for the event so we arranged to meet up on the Thursday night, get some food and have a pre race catch up. We'd previously teamed up for the OMM and The Spine as well as a couple of Adventure races so had implied that we'd try and stick together. My race plan was to do a goodish time on Day 1, and get through day 2 and 3 without too much injury. After a few beers a pizza and a check of the maps we got our heads down for an early night.

Friday morning came too soon and we were up, repacking kit bags, drop bags, ate some breakfast and headed off to the race registration. Having arrived after dark last night I hadn't got a look at any scenery and straight away I was stunned by the views of the sea. The weather was pleasant and forecast for the weekend was good and I was excited to get started!

Registration was from 11am but it had been revealed a few days earlier that we'd be getting a very special send off - by Prince William no less so we arrived a bit earlier to ensure we got to park. There were several paparazzo knocking around who were obviously there for us!

 

We had our kit taken up to the registration area by the organisers and we made our way up to sign on and pick up our numbers. I was handed a t-shirt with a cute message on (nice touch) and some complimentary 3Bars and number 014.

Before long we were treated to not only Prince William but also Kate Middleton walking up to meet and greet a select few - she looked amazing - even if she hadn't given birth only weeks ago! I was desperate for a pee but wasn't sure if it was a bit inappropriate to drop my shorts and take a slash in a bush behind the royals! More to the point, I didn't want to get papped with my pants down or snipered! In any case, I only had 5 mins til the off so I ran down a lane and did my business.

Soon we were under starters orders (in the form of Prince William) and the bell was rung, and Jonny Cash played out "it burns burns burns!" and oh it would burn!

To the Race!

Day 1:
As mentioned my plan was to do a reasonable time this day and Doug planned to try to keep up (not that I'm much quicker than him) due to the volume of people trying to get through one kissing gate the start was fairly slow to begin with but once we spread out we set off at a comfortable 10 min/mile pace with amazing views to the left of the sea as we rose up and down the single track trails then looped onto a short section of road, only to be nearly hit by the royals in their Range Rovers! That would have been a good tale to tell!

The route was following coastal walk signs which was largely well sign posted which was odd as along the road section everyone was going straight on but the sign turned right and up over a bridge. I wanted to follow the masses but Doug was adamant that the trail went over the bridge since he'd walked round there yesterday. I went along begrudged still not believing that everyone else would go the wrong way!?

When we popped out of the train station and found ourselves back on the track and ahead of people who were ahead of us, I gave him the benefit of the doubt and put him back in charge of nav!

The first check point was about 10 miles in and we got there in a fairly good time, feel good I made a sprint for the check point. Doug followed suit and we crossed the line together (I think I was a bit ahead!)

The day went by in a blur of gorgeous hidden bays, and stunning views, I couldn't stop grinning,

taking pictures when I saw a nice view and larking about. I was feeling strong and wanted to jog and jog along the lovely single track but there was still a long way to go! My injury felt fine - I'd put a good deal of rock tape on it but it felt fine. I taped up a hot spot on one of my feet from my new trainers (always do an event in a pair of shoes you've never worn!)

My main pain was in my shoulders from running with my pack (again a new piece of kit) the check points came and went - the marshals were the best I've ever met at an event cheering and whooping relentlessly. The supporters of runners were equally supporting to the rest of the field.

We kept making targets of getting to certain points and miles in certain times, each time sprinting into the checkpoint to the amusement of the marshals. achieving the targets made me feel pretty good.







The sun begun to set during the final miles the most gorgeous view across the sea. The final 3rd of the route got a bit hilly and more like the coastal paths I'm familiar with - not quite like the pain of UTSW or the Jurassic Coast but up and down and challenging enough to make the legs burn burn burn!















The last few miles went on and on, I could see the lights in the distance for the village we were heading for, but it never seemed to arrive. We hit tarmac for a while - it must be soon before hitting trails again and decided to walk the last few miles in, flush out the legs a bit and since we couldn't see well and the ground was rooty under foot it was a wise decision and knowing we'd be back in time for a pizza dinner at the local Italian was a welcome feeling! We were overtaken by "the likely lads" (3 guys we'd been yo-yo-ing with all day) probably glad to finally get away from our inane chatter and singing.

We made our way back into the final check point following some signed which had been put out to help us back and save using the map, with a half assed sprint and big smiles to a fab welcome committee of the marshals - how they kept their energy up all day is amazing!

The accommodation for the night was a sport centre, the fast guys had been back hours, had showers, eaten and were already asleep on the floor! We laid out our sleepy bags, had showers (the best shower ever!) and walked the half km to the pizza restaurant, had a cheeky half and a pizza found ourselves falling asleep and made our way back, compression tights on and bed down for the night. It wasn't the best nights sleep but it was the most we'd have for a while!

Day 2:
4:45 came and it was time to get up, normally after a race the normal thing to do is rest, even after a half marathon I don't normally want to do anything, but after 35 miles running round the coast, instead of hobble around in a pair of slippers the best thing to do is go out on little sleep and embark on another 65 mile adventure!

The first stage was just under 12 miles and it was a pretty hilly start. Starting off gently, tentatively testing the legs and surprised at how they felt - OK they were stiff but nothing like I expected - they wanted to run.

The sun was coming up and looking like another nice day, I'd got pretty sun burnt yesterday but still, better than getting hypothermia again! Another welcoming arrival at the check point and we were back on our way, keeping to the normal plan of walking the up hills and trotting the flats and downs.

The views just didn't get boring, the day drew on, and we were still in the race. We were clearly some of the back runners but it didn't matter, what mattered was finishing, others were pulling out at each check point but we were holding strong, slow but strong. There was some really shitty sections of pebble beaches to run across along the course of the weekend which was probably some of the worst parts of the route.  Coming into the the penultimate check point the sun was beginning to go down so we had a little sit down with the lovely marshals who gave us some glow sticks for a night rave and put on an extra layer and headlamps on and checked the maps. We'd sort of decided that we'd walk most of the night section unless it was particularly easy going but we were both getting tired, Dougs' feet weren't in great condition (they'd not healed since Lakeland100 only 4 weeks ago) and the skin was threatening to shed again.

The next section was a long one, the short ones are nice because you can visualise them better but with about 12 miles on this one it was going to be a slog, especially in the dark but the going was fairly flat. we rounded a corner and upon us was a section of river to cross with giant stepping stones about 4ft high! it was fun hopping from one to another in the dark :-)   Wwith a small navigational error ending us in the woods for a while eventually got ourselves to the final check point were Bing the organiser a big group of marshals and a vat of Soup was waiting! It was much needed as the temperature had dropped and we were moving pretty slowly now. 

 A big group of competitors turned up behind us, they'd previously been ahead but had got lost so ended up behind. They flew in and out of the check point whilst we enjoyed the soup and chatter.

After outstaying our welcome we set off on the final 6 miles, soon catching up and overtaking the other group. We took charge of navigation, and found our way back along the route, through  fields and sandy tracks. I was feeling quite spritely again (I had taken a gel shortly before and they turn me into a different person) so this didn't go down well with Doug and the others whilst I was bouncing next to them limping and hopping (there were quite a few injuries in the field)

Two of the group set off in front as we hit the dreaded sand dunes and by this point Doug was in a
real state with his feet. It was terrible to watch him wince and limp on every footfall as the blisters worsened. The next 2 miles across the sand dunes were the darkest time. It was grim. It was way past bed time and nearly 2am, my ankle had got really sore and every time I place my left foot a sharp hot pain shot up my shin and top of foot. I tried to encourage Doug on, it was heartbreaking but the going was so slow and the sand so deep and hard to get across it took forever!








Finally we came to the end, crossed and bridge and went back on ourselves. We couldn't see the guys who were behind us so assumed they'd dropped far back in the slog and gloom. We limped and hobbled the last few hundred meters to the village hall we were to sleep in to the smiley face of a marshal outside and Q giving us a double high five. There were several people still up and eating pasta that had been put on - including the guys who were supposedly behind us on the dunes! I was pretty pissed off the next day to find out they'd skipped them and taken the easy route claiming to have "bailed" but still starting Day 3!? Well, they're only cheating themselves hey ;-)

The shoes came straight off to get some pressure of the feet, Doug was in a bad state and I was worried. I set our stuff out whilst he inspected his damaged feet, we didn't even get out of our kit, it wasn't long before we had to be up again so any sleep is good!

Doug wanted to get up to pop his blisters but I insisted that sleep at this stage was more important. I fell asleep pretty quick but had funny hallucinations of bugs scuttling towards my head and my legs waking me up with spasms.

Almost as soon as I closed my eyes I was awoken by "IT BURNS BURNS BURNS, JUST LIKE A RING OF FIRRREEEE!" played at volume into the room and Q bouncing around like a kid on red bull! There was a small part of me not wanting to carry on, my ankle was agony and first instincts were that Doug wouldn't make it today with his feet in the condition they were in.

We made a plan to ensure that we at least started and would go from there check point to check point. The plan was Doug to pop his blisters, we'd tape his feet, and he'd use my trekking poles, and drugs all round. Lots of drugs!

I went and got changed, came back and found him patching up his feet, I cut strips of tape and helped where I could, passed drugs around, packed sleeping bags away, taped up my ankle and got ourselves motivated for one final push.

I wasn't hungry for breakfast so we just had a few cheddars crackers and gathered outside with the remaining runnners. It was cooler this morning and the fatigue was set in, although I did feel so much better for just an hour or so sleep. We set off for the final stage - somehow the front guys still running fast!

The plan was in action, get to the check points inside the cut offs. I was very surprised at my ankle now I had taped it and compression tights on, Dougs feet seemed less horrendous and although we weren't moving fast we weren't at the back. The first check point was about 7 miles in and we knew breakfast was there waiting - in the form of bacon butties - I'm a vegetarian but I really fancied a bacon butty so when we reached the checkpoint (complete with a half hearted sprint) we boshed the most delicious bacon sarnies!

 With 20 mins banked at this check point we carried on to the next, another 7 mile stage, we weren't in the best shape, Doug's feet and ankle were giving grief, my ankle was intermittently giving me big issues. Yesterday I'd been pissing like a race horse - I'm talking every 20 mins what seemed like a good half a pint, and today was turning into a similar story. I wasn't over drinking so I didn't really get it.

We reached the 2nd check point with 15 mins banked, telling us we'd slowed down further. A few guys we'd been yo-yo'ing with to this point retired here, We took a bit of time to do some foot admin before carrying on.

The next section was another bastard pebble beach. Something I noticed was that there were a lot of people skipping these hard sections in favour of the road, whilst it's clever to use the map to their advantage it's not really in keeping with the spirit of the race to cut corners.

For this section we had to do a prove we'd gone to a Bay slightly off the course rip a page out of a book that was left there and bring it back, (it would be an easy cheat to knock off a few miles) we made our way to the bay and came to a lush opening on to the beach, I felt like a pirate!

After some larking on the beach some more pics and long walk along the seafront we realised that we still had a long way to go before the next check point and time wasn't on our side.

Knowing how bad Doug's feet and shin were (I could tell by the swearing and faces he was pulling) that he wasn't up for running but eventually I said that if we wanted to get to the check point in time and hence continue to the finish then we had to dig deep for the next few miles and really push on. It didn't receive a great response initially but before I knew what was happening he was off!

We ran, proper ran up the hills, down the hills, along on and on and on. I was so impressed with the turn of foot. I knew the pain was bad, my leg gave way a few times but I managed it as best as I could.

We carried on like this for a few miles until a steep incline, I caught up with Doug who was like a man possessed! He said he'd taken 2 packs of bloc shots ! no wonder he was blasting along!

After a brief walk, we were back running again until we met the tarmac. There was no way we were going to run on this, the pain was too much so we marched on, knowing the check point must be soon.

Doug was so amazing that section, I knew that that had got us to the check point when we finally made it there with 20 mins spare.

I insisted we take 10 mins to get our shoes off, get some food in, drug up and prepare for the last 10 miles.

We'd done an epic 125 miles so far and had the last bit in sight. We could do this!

Saying good bye to the lovely marshals and hoping the last time we'd see them would be at the finish line.

We weren't in great shape, I was really worried about Doug as he seemed to be bonking so I slipped him percy pigs for the next couple of miles.

Looking at the map was a bit depressing, it went right round the edge of the coast in a zig zag fashion. We plodded on, taking it in turns in having food swings. Lots of walkers on the trails knew what we were doing and gave words of encouragement and knowing we had less than 10k to go should have been a positive. We wound along the coast round the fields of heather taking in the breath taking views

The map gave hope looking like we'd be at the finish soon. it looked like about 6k, but we had to go "around" the mountain. Climbing up to a little stone hut it looked like we just had to climb up and over, then down and right and we'd be home and dry. We had time to kill and we'd still be back in good time!

We were sadly mistaken. We plodded up over the "top" only to find that we had to go along more trail towards the mountain. Looking at the map we decided that it was just to the lip of the next ridge then right....

It was not.

We reached the top to see the trail go down then up again, then up some more and disappear to the ridge of the actual mountain!

OK, we can do this!

We plodded on. Time was a ticking.... and fast running out!

The trail seemed to be dipping and I was convinced that just round the next corner would be the finish. But the trail took a dip to the left, and went waaaaay out to a point on the far left. I thought I recognised a building below and got excited and shouted to Doug who was limping badly down the big steps only to be told that "um... no, we have to go back up and over"

"noooooooo!"

At this point, we had only 15 minutes to get back in the allotted time not to DNF and we had no idea how many twists and turns and extra climbs would appear! We started to panic a bit so again we had to dig deep, pain schmain, we hadn't come this far to not finish.

Adrenaline kicked in and we ran and ran, up and down, steps and rocks came and went and checking my watch , seeing the minutes pass by. We can do this!!

We rounded another corner and there! we saw it ! the finish shute! it was still about 500meters to go but the end was right there! We had so little time, we ran hard down the final decent, we saw a couple of marshals running up the mountain to meet us - screaming and whopping at us. We sprinted past, we could see the finish post and hear the cheering of the organisers willing us to finish. I looked at my watch - one minute to go. we sprinted head to head towards the finish.

Crossing the line was the most euphoric end to a race I've ever had! It was the most amazing feeling! It was such a dramatic and exciting end to a race and the relief was fantastic knowing how close it had come to not finishing.

We accepted our medals and the marshals and organisers seemed genuinely impressed at our comedy timing.

We don't enter races under "Team Chuckle Bros" for nuthin! ;-)

What an amazing event, I don't think I've grinned so much during a race before and I'd recommend it to anyone!

UTSW 2013

Wow! Has it been that long since I wrote one of these?

It's not to say I've not been doing things, I've just not been sharing my adventures.

My latest adventure was a trip to sunny cornwall to tackle Ultra Trail South West - a 100 mile trail ultra marathon. Although I'd done the Spine Challenge (a story for another day) I felt this was my first proper ultra.

I don't recall why I entered it, I think it was because it was dubbed "UK's toughtest Ultra marathon" but I think other events would have you think differently.

To give a brief overview of my training, after the Spine, I felt awesome, so started running again that week. (not far but far enough to break me for a couple of months. I wasn't injured, I just felt shit. Totally lost my mojo and couldn't be arsed. So I didn't. I made half arsed attempts at doing long runs, me and Doug went out on intentional 20 milers, only to come back after 12 miles and go to the pub.

It was 3 weeks before the event and I realised I'd done a total of 3 longish runs (longish if you're training for a marathon maybe) the saving grace was that 3 weeks before the event myself, Doug and Bud had gone out to Wales to attempt the Welsh 3000's (again a story for another day) so a full day on our feet had put some good miles in the bank and some big hills too.

Unfortunately I took a week to recover from this, then the following two weeks, I felt terrible with weird appetite loss and strange feelings in my guts. So I continued my training plan (of doing nothing) The Wednesday before the race I ran 4.5k to my mums house, arrived feeling awful! Chest hurt, legs empty. What the hell was I thinking going to this event? I was going to die after 10 miles!

I knew the event would be tough, it is extremely hilly, it starts in the evening and with 36 hours to complete the race there's a good chance of having 2 nights out there.

Thursday came and went, and I left work to head to Newquay. After some issues with trains I ended up at my hotel by taxi (courtesy of First Great Western) and views of beautiful sunsets and cliffs. I'd forgotten how gorgeous it is down there. When we were younger we used to have lads weekends down there and mainly we were paraletic so don't really remember much about it.

I had a mooch about town, popped to asda to get snacks for the race (my personal choice is cheese sarnies with humous) have some dinner and a couple of beers and head back for an early night.

I woke up on Friday feeling fairly sleepy and headed to the pool for a dip and a jacuzzi before forcing down an enormous breakfast. I had loads of time before I needed to head to registration (15 mins on the bus away) so had a wander round town and looked at the shops, had a coffee, sent some postcards. Whilst waiting for the bus I was chatting to a couple of local men, smoking jazz cigarettes (them not me). They asked where I was heading with a giant bag on my back, and I explained what I was doing. They thought I was nuts but were pretty impressed and offered some motivational speak, which actually helped as I was feeling pretty worried about it. I'd done one of the coastal series just before Christmas last year, so I knew how hard these coastal paths can be.

I got to registration to a long slow moving queue to have kit checked and pick up race numbers. I could see no other women in the queue - don't get me wrong, it was nice spending the time chatting to men but where were all the women!? I saw a couple eventually but they looked super fit and fast and I felt like a big fatty. Race briefing followed "many of you won't finish" , then we went outside to wait for our bus to take us to the start in Polruan... we waited in the blazing sun - wow, what a great weekend to be at the seaside! We waited and waited.... then waited some more. Then were told that our bus wasn't coming. But they'd arranged another bus to collect us. The race was due to start at 6pm, the bus turned up at 6.15pm. The driver didn't know where he was going, luckily one of the other competitors did!

We arrived at the start, time for another quick pee (I'd been pissing like a race horse all day!) 19:30 with the start delayed we were finally off on our long adventure back to Watergate Bay.

I felt like I was going at quite a good pace to begin with, I wasn't feeling like I was at the back, I certainly wasn't at the front. The trail was quite untechnical and not too steep (yet), a nice single track that I longed to bring my mountain bike along. Soon enough we were climbing steeply and everyone was walking.

My strategy was to walk the hills and run where it was flat/downhill. I'm not very good at technical descents though so much of the steep downs involved walking/flailing. I was finding myself with people who'd I'd expected to do much bettter (some guy who was bragging about MDS)

I got to CP1 about 12 miles in and it occured to me I'd not eaten anything. Bearing in mind I'd been going for about two and half hours so far, this wasn't good. I tried to eat some choc raisins but immediatly my tummy cramped up. I'd been drinking plenty and Dawn's pre race pep talk of drinking lots was in my head - her repeating "are you sipping?" but I'd forgotten the "are you grazing?" Doug and I had been asking each other all round the Spine. I filled up on some electrolytes at the CP and tried to eat some jelly babies. It was a struggle. Shit, what now? I'm susceptable to food swings if I don't eat on a normal day never mind when trying to run 100 - I took a packet of Clif blocs as these are pretty good and thought at least I can suck them if I can't eat them.

It had started to rain and it was dark now, so head torch and water proofs went on and trekking poles came out. I always thought poles were a cheat but they're brilliant. The next stage was rooty and wet and if not for the rain would have been a lovely bit of trail. But it rained, and rained and rained. I found myself knee deep in bog and getting hauled out by some guy. I came through a gate where the sign was pointing straight on, but it looked like I could turn left, right or go into the woods further. I went back to the sign to check the direction, definitely straight on. So I went into the woods. It didn't feel right as there was no clear path through so I followed what looked like the path and eventually came out about 100 yards up the track I'd have been on had I turned right. It still didn't feel right but I carried on farther in search of a direction marker. It was annoying that they hadn't given us maps as I had compass and gps to help get me on the right track. I couldn't see a sign, so I decided to head back in the other direction. I could see headlights and was glad to see about 8 other people also confused about where to go. One of the guys (who later turned out to be John) and I went back the way I came with the view to shout back if we saw a sign. Eventually after about 500m there we saw a reflective sign pointing ahead. We shouted for everyone else to join us and carried on, I stayed with this group until the next check point, they were strictly running the downs/flats, walking anything even slightly up. This was great as upto here, I'd been on my own for some time and they were pulling me along at a much better pace. I was quite moany though, I told them I was having bets with myself when I would pull out of the race. This received a bit of a telling off "with that attitude you won't get far!" that told me, and I tried harder to be positive.

It was still raining when we saw the flags marking CP2 and outside was an absolute LEGEND having a cigarette he'd left in his drop bag. I told him I thought that was quite brilliant, not that I'd be joining him though.

We'd all been looking forward to getting a hot cup of something at the CP as we'd been told that this was a food station so there'd be more to choose from and hot drinks/soup, so we were a bit disappointed with the table of coke, malt loaf and bananas. I was feeling pretty low from lack of food so I tried to eat some malt loaf which wasn't too hard to stomach, had a can of coke (I can't remember the last time i drank full fat coke, I'm guessing circa 1990) and poured one into my bottle for later. I decided that I'd leave the sandwiches I brought in my drop bag as I didn't envisage being able to eat them, and I could always get them at CP7 (50 miles from here!)

I left the CP with Debbie and John and we travelled together for a few hours, chatting and keeping each other going. My aim had been to get to CP's inside the cut off times of the original timings (before we started 90 mins late) and I was an hour inside that at each so far, so was feeling quite good about progress - only 80 miles to go.... :-/

This section contained quite a lot of road which whilst it churned out the miles quickly wasn't great on the feet with XC shoes on, the 3 of us continued on, occassionally meeting another person, I felt like I was slowing them down so when we were joined by Laura it gave them an excuse to move on a bit, I chatted and walk/ran with Laura a while, but when running I was faster and soon found myself alone again. CP3 soon came - again not much to offer, I had a packet of crisps, which the salt was amazing, refilled my camelbak and attempted to get a bit warm and dry. My sealskinz gloves were soaked through and my fingers were all trenchy so left them off a bit to air. I was chatting to another girl who'd arrived. It was 3am and she was struggling to comprehend that we'd only come 30 miles.

I said, "well, the sun will be starting to rise in an hour or so, then we'll be nearly at CP4 then CP5 and we'll be half way, then it's not too far to CP7 and we can get clean dry clothes and then it's home sailing if we get to CP7"

This sentence had a good effect on me and I started feeling better about finishing. I left CP3 alone, had to go back to collect my forgotten poles, this section was set to be tough, it went across Bodmin Moor and up over Brown Willy *snigger* this had caused lots of jokes throughout the night, "Off to mount Brown willy and I'm so wet" the course took a right on to an open moor, straight into a terrible head wind, that combined with the rain was pretty unpleasant. I trudged onwards and the mist started thickening, soon I was deep in the moor jumping from tuft of grass to tuft of grass to avoid going balls deep in bogs that were likely to be hiding there. I saw two headlights ahead stopped, I thought maybe they were lost, but I got there and they said they saw me on my own and thought they'd wait so I didnt get lost in the mist on my own.

There was no clear sign of where to go, so we just held a straight bearing and hoped for the best. The wind and rain was battering us around, my face was a picture of misery! The light around us was starting to change and I realised the sun rising!! This was a great thing, I said good morning to the guys and on we went, the course then took us to the left towards the great mound of "Brown Willy" it was vast, and the route up was hard, again with no clear path, giant steps were required to get up each tuft of grass or rock. A group of about 8 guys appeared behind us after long, they'd been lost on the moor for some time, so fully appreciated the guys who'd waiting for me. After a long annoying climb, we reached the top. The event organisers had told us that they'd left a note at the top which we had to report back (as proof that we'd not just gone round the hill) but I could see no note! I'd been hoping it would be something amusing but alas, so back down the hill we went and across more open moorland. The next few miles was pretty miserable, despite it now being light and the rain less persistent and threatening to stop it was a trudge, the wind was howling in our faces, after another stretch of wet moor in the distance I could just about make out the endurancelife flag marking CP4 and hot drinks and shelter! yay! But it was still a good 2 miles into the wind across now an airfield. Finally I got to the CP and was very disappointed that it was a horse trailer with a lady boiling water in a jetboil and a tray of jelly babies. It was less than satisfactory but I accepted a soup, which I then gave away. I was talking about pulling out again but once more some of the northern lads I had been with during the night told me to man up and that I'd been whinging about giving up at mile 8. That told me! I took some more bloc shots and started on again. I stopped for a wee and the northern lads over took me, I caught up with them and we stuck together for several miles until we reached a town, where they each spent 20p on some local toilets, one had been holding it in for 20 miles! ouch! There was a shop here so we got some supplies (more coke for me, pies and coffee for them) the 60 mile event was starting not far from here so were expecting to see people fly past at any moment. We had a decent break, I was wanting to get started but thought it would be better to stick with them. We set off again and we soon back on the coastal paths - we'd made it across the country back to the north coast! The terrain changed immediately from the nice wet trails to painfully steep up and down of steps, technical features but the most amazing views of the cliffs and out to sea. I didn't see the guys from here on.

The next few miles were a real struggle, I could barely place one foot in front of the other the gradient was sapping any remaining energy I had, I'd decided, that at the next CP I was going home....the front runners from the 60 were beginning to pass me now, looking annoyingly fresh but each one of them gave me a big well done and showed they were genuinely impressed that I was on the 100 and still going. (I didn't feel like I was going) climbing over numerous styles was taking its toll too and descending the slippery steps was slow going. CP5 took forever to get to, I wasn't having fun now, I was at dropping point, I had no energy and just wanted to stop.

I finally popped out to find a tent with the CP, the weather was nice now, lovely sunshine drying off my damp clothes warming my face. I said to the marshall, I'm probably pulling out here but I'm going to have a sit down for a few minutes and decide. I sat down and they made me a hot chocolate and handed me some biscuits. I turned my phone on to send some updates back home and received some nice messages from friends.

Tim and an American guy I'd been running with at some point yesterday appeared and were in great spirits, asked me how I was, and I said I'm probably pulling out. They said "noooo!" and Tim asked if I'd been eating.... erm... not really. Quite a lot of people had pulled out already so I felt compelled to join them especially after the last painfully slow 5 miles, I couldn't do another 50 like that!

The guys said they were going to get some chips in the town just down the other side of the cliff and I should join them. It sounded like a good idea, I know from experience that as soon as i get good food in me, I'm a different person. I told them I'd see them down there and took a few more minutes before singing to them "wooooooahhhh! we're half way there!"

I felt much better again from the hot drink and motivating chatter so I packed my stuff back up and went on. I found myself running again - wow! After about 2 miles, I dropped down into the town and coming down off the cliff I could see the others, and a group of their supporters all eating bacon butties and chips and cheering as they saw me.

I felt so much better, I ordered some chips and a can of coke and sat down to eat. The others left before me, but their support crew stayed and chatted to me.

I decided to get my ipod out for a while now, ate half the chips and carried on once more. I was feeling so much better and ran much of this next stage feeling pretty fucking amazing singing along to Erasure. I was visualising finishing now, crossing the line, the satisfaction of completing my first ultra marathon. Yeah! I could do this! It was going to be a late finish (or early hours of the morning) but that didn't matter, I came here to do this and I could do it! Someone had told me this was the hardest section with 1000m of ascent but after that it was much easier. Come on Anna man up!

CP6 came in no time, I was still feeling good but thought I'd take a sit down for a few minutes and chatted to some others who were there. I asked if there was any coke, but was told no, but there was a shop down the road. I had a few sweets and carried on again. my legs were a bit stiff from running quite hard, then sitting down and then going again. So I walked a bit to find the shop and bought a bottle of coke. My energy was dipping again so tried to knock back some nuts.

The wind was still high and in my face and the clouds were returning, despite my face being a bit sunburnt now. If I could just get to the next CP I'd have access to my drop bag and I could sort my feet out with new tape (they were starting to blister in places now) and change into some fresh dry clothes and get some proper food again. After about 5 miles of yo yoing between different runners I had to stop to take a look at my feet and get some sugar in me. I was struggling again but continued to tell myself it was nearly time for fresh clothes and hot food! My feet were bleeding in places I'd not taped them and two toenails had blood behind them - that's two more missing toenails I'll have. I took off my wet socks which were under my sealskinz and just put the skinz back on then carried on slowly up and down the relentless cliffs. It's crazy that you'll climb 150m up, back down the other side and only cover about 400m horizontally! the progress was painfully slow but when I remembered to look, the views stunning.

Coming towards Rock which was were the next CP would be I lost the way a little and got some directions from a local, he pointed out on the other side of the cliffs where I was heading, to go round the beach (the tide was in so had to take the long route) and up there, left, round up, right....he thought I was bonkers when I told him what I was doing. I hadn't seen any other runners for a while so wasn't convinced I was on the right track. I dropped down on to the beach at new polzeath and wanted to dive in to the sea to cool my feet. I saw a sign which said "Rock - 3 miles" this disheartened me a bit as the guy had made out that it was really close. The rain had started again and the wind was worse than ever. There were no runners around now and I wasn't sure where to go as the signs had stopped. I carried on where the man had suggested but I wasn't convinced. I started to feel strange, the rain was pouring down again and the wind was cutting through me despite my expensive and very good jacket.

I took a left up a ravine, I think I knew this was a mistake but the weird feeling got weirder. I was so cold and shivering. I felt confused and disorientated. I was walking aimlessly and didn't really know where I was going. I tried to get my phone GPS to tell me where Rock was but the screen got wet and I couldn't do a thing with it. I was so cold, and I started talking to myself "why didnt they give maps?" and having imaginary conversations when I got to CP7. I knew I was going the wrong way but I felt really confused and was crying and didn't know where to go or what to do. I was in a field and started trying to find my way back towards the beach I'd been at over an hour earlier (only half a mile back) I just kept trying to put one foot in front of the other, crying/talking to myself.

I finally got back on the path I'd turned off incorrectly and waited trying to decide which way to go, when two american ladies doing the 60 appeared, both sodden too. I asked for help, they weren't sure the way either so asked a local who said "go to Baymer Bay, turn somewhere in the car park, go... then..." I had zoned out, I hoped I could just stick with the ladies and get back to CP7. I knew from the Spine training weekend I was showing signs of Hypothermia, I was trying to keep a straight head but I kept zoning out and getting more confused. The ladies stayed with me a while but I was barely moving so they carried on. Once they were out of sight I felt even more confused and alone, I'd not listened to the directions properly. I reached Baymer Bay and in the far distance to the right I could see someone traipsing up a massive cliff, this broke me, I thought that was where I had to get to for the CP. I was shivering uncontrollably, there was noone around and I couldn't see where I was to go. I saw some toilets and went inside to get shelter from the elements a while, the wind was brutal. Once inside I broke down and cried some more I didn't know what to do, my brain wouldn't function and I couldn't stop shivering. I got my phone and GPS out and took my grid and spent about 15 mins trying to text the emergency no we'd been given so they could hopefully come and get me. The medic rang me and said I was only about 300m from the CP, could I get there. I knew I couldn't, I'd end up walking round and round the wrong area for ages. He said he's send someone for me.

I took off my shoes and climbed into my emergency bag. I sat in the corner shivering and zoning in and out until the door opened and in came a gorgeous bloke who jumped down and gave me a hug and introduced himself as Damien.

He checked me over and ran back to his car, I felt relieved I wasn't on my own but so so cold. I knew I wasn't too far into the danger zone as I'd functioned enough to send a text and crawl into my bag but I still felt awful. Damien came back with a big pile of clothes and apologised but he'd been instructed to get me out of my clothes and into some dry ones. Ordinarily a handsome bloke trying to get me naked would have been excellent but the situation was a bit different, we joked about this a little through chattering teeth. He threw layers of dry clothes over my damp skin and had to help me out of my bottoms as they were soaked and stuck to me. Finally layered in all his clothes he bundled me into the car which was set to furnace temperature. My sunburnt face burned whilst my finger tips had no blood in and my core was failing to warm up very fast.

It took about 10 mins to get to CP7 so I think 300m was a bit of an under statement but I think Damien was getting a bit lost whilst we chatted in the car.

We arrived at CP7 and Tim, the medic helped me out and checked me over, made me drink a cup of tea (I don't like tea) found my kit bag and when I was less shivery got me to change into my own clothes, I gave Damien his back appolising if they were soiled.

Tim said he'd drive me to where I was staying I'd not booked anywhere to stay Saturday night, but all my stuff had been transported to CP7 so I could go wherever. He tried to get me a place in Rock but ended up suggesting I stayed at his friends B & B in Mawgan Porth so rang them and arranged it for me and insisted we went to the chippy on the way as he was starving and I should eat. We waited until I was feeling warmer an hour or so later and said my thankyous and we left.

Tim was lovely, we chatted easily and he told me about his new baby, I was still not fully warm but my fingers had blood in now. We stopped for chips and Tim came back with the biggest box of chips I'd ever seen! I didn't have much of an appetite so only managed about 10 of them which didn't even dent the amount that there was.

He checked me into the B & B which was the most beautiful place I've ever stayed in, run by a couple decorated nicely with amazing food locally sourced and fresh and even had an "honesty bar" which unfortunately I just couldn't face. Seavista - if you're ever in the area

I had a hot bath and rolled into bed. I thought I'd sleep for a day but I woke at 5am. I took some more painkillers ad ibruprofen as my legs were stiff.

Now reflecting back, I'm really disappointed that i didnt finish, and started the week quite upset about this fact, a mere 70 miles isn't what I set out to do and I knew that if I'd got to CP7 I'd have finished - it would have been a long night but I'd have made it. But Hypothermia beat me this time, and I'm looking forward to going back next year to try again.

Scotland Coast to Coast adventure Race

Last weekend was my first dalliance with adventure racing, it should have been a group of 4 of us - Me, Quiz, Steve and Andy all drunkenly entered this race last Christmas as a challenge to train for. We entered ourselves as "Team Cock" (we were drunk, it seemed logical)

The event we found was called Scotland Coast to Coast - the idea was to cross from one side of Scotland to the other on foot, bike and boat in either a day or two days - we of course went for the one day option - it wouldn't be a challenge otherwise right? The event was starting at Nairn with a 7km trail run, followed by a 48 mile road ride, then a 2mile Kayak/Run, a 33 mile bike (with 16 miles off road), then a 14 mile Trek/run and finally a 1 mile kayak.

Trouble was, none of us trained for it. Well not specifically. Mark has been injured, moving house and other stuff. Andy has been training for half ironman distance triathlon (so has no excuse) Steve  has been off the radar and I have just been pissing about on my mountain bike all summer. But it wasn't going to be a serious event and it was bound to be a great piss up.

One of my bestest friends, Penny had organised us to stay in a friends cottage for a couple of nights before the race and booked a hotel for the night after the race to have a big ol' piss up so it was all sorted and we just needed to get up there. Mark wasn't going to race now as his old man knees weren't going to be up to it but was still up for the piss up. The others half heartily said they'd still be doing it.

I'd decided some time ago that I would borrow a cross bike from Swindon Road club as there was a long section of off road which would be too much for my lovely carbon road bike, but there was also a LOT of road work,which I didn't think would be much fun on a mountain bike. So a cx bike seemed like a good compromise. I picked this up from Andy just over a week before and we went out for a long ride on the Ridgeway, which I thoroughly enjoyed - except I felt like I was cheating on my mountain bike riding along the route I take that on. A bit like cheating on your boyfriend and going to your favourite restaurant....

The guys and I kept talking about trying out kayaking as this was part of the race, but the months kept passing by. I had a friend of a friend who offered to take me out on Bristol docks but still time passed by, other things came and went and before we knew it the race was a week away.

I contacted the guys and found out none of them were up for doing the event anymore, I still wanted to do it but wasn't sure about doing it on my own. I still hadn't tried kayaking, I had barely done any running, I'd been drinking and smoking heavily but Penny was still up for it if I was and some other friends said I should still do it, and plus I wanted to prove something now to them stitching fuckers! ;-)

The Sunday before I did a 10 mile run with a friend plus a mile to his house, a mile home, then 4 miles to my folks, so I felt a bit better then that I had a few miles in my legs, albeit none of them off road and all of them flat (the route profile is pretty mental and 95% off road)  Monday I finally got in a kayak - in the Bristol docks  in the tail end of a hurricane! I basically spent an hour either spinning around or fighting the current back to the docks followed by days of sore arms. Tuesday I went to Ashton Court on my MTB for a hammer around and then finally decided that I'd definitely go to Scotland. I had nothing better to do and Pen had gone to all the trouble of sorting out accommodation.

So Wednesday, I went to stay with Penny and Davut and my future husband (Robbie - or George, whichever will have me) had dinner, drank lots of wine, then Thursday Penny and I drove up to Scotland. It was a loooong way. We stopped off in Stirling to meet Sam for lunch, then he took us to his local bike shop as I realised I had no spare inner tube for this borrowed bike, he had heard of the race and thought me mad, he suggested riding the cross bike on full tyre pressure and whacked 65 psi in for me. We then carried on the long but stunning drive up to the cottage on Loch Dromer. It was so pretty, the view from the cottage was gorgeous and the views all the way up were amazing, I was like a kid in a zoo "Oohh look! A waterfall!"

I'd been on twatter that day and tweeted about my lack of trail shoes and thought I'd be fine. The response was "beg, borrow steal some trail shoes, it's steep and slippery!" Hmmm.... I did some more (too late) research and it seemed to be the general consensus - what a dickhead.

At the cottage I cooked some dinner for me n Pen - this is a first except for breakfasts because Penny is the best cook I've ever known, she said it tasted OK, so she's either a very good friend or was very hungry. We drank a couple of bottles of wine, and went to bed. Friday we got up, had breakfast and Penny informed me my tyre had deflated. So I investigated said tyre and found a colossal thorn stuck in the tyre, which had obviously when pumped to a firmer pressure pushed into the inner tube, which was much better to happen the day before than on the race! I changed the tube, but had trouble getting the tyre back on the rim, it seemed to be the wrong inner tube.

We  headed off to Inverness to get me some trail shoes (always do a race on new shoes) and pop to a bike shop for another spare tube and to get them to put the tyre on my rim - which even the mechanic had trouble with! then on to Nairn to register and stick my bike in transition.

I had no idea of what I was meant to do really and there wasn't a great deal of guidance from the people at registration. I guess having read the briefing many times now I sort of understood.

Pick up race pack, drive the 8 or so miles to cawdor castle to rack bike. I  also changed over my pedals and was going to swap my saddle to my own as the one on there was hideous, decided I couldn't be bothered, bunged my bike in my transition area.
Everyone else had left their transition bags on their bikes already, but I'd planned on dumping mine off in the morning. Did they know something I didn't?

After racking we went to get some dinner from the pub (and a couple of glasses of red) then drove home timing how long we needed in the morning (about an hour). On the way back we stopped off at this beautiful gorge, I used this opportunity of walking a mile or so to break in my new shoes. They felt pretty good, and more importantly looked ace!

We went back to the cottage, had some more wine whilst getting things sorted for the next day (laying out kit, nutrition, spares) The weather looked like it was going to be a bit shit so I left exactly which clothes I was going to take til the last minute in the morning - you had to carry all your stuff with you, including fuel as it was totally self sufficient in that respect so space was limited to just my camelbak rucksack thing. We were going to have to leave at 5 in order to get to cawdor castle to drop off my transition kit then to the start for 6.30 so a good nights sleep would have been useful.

I could barely sleep, all day I'd been feeling so nervous and sick. Perhaps I needed more wine. I hadn't felt like this for a long time, I rarely get nervous before races but this was something totally outside my comfort zone. A friend sent me a text saying "it's just riding, running and playing, you like all that stuff" which was dead right and cheered me up.

In the end I got about 3 hours sleep and was up at 3.45 making my porridge, peering out the window into the pouring rain! Fantastic. It didn't show signs of stopping when I woke Penny up.

For the run I was wearing skins, with some flappy shorts to try in vain to disguise my colossal arse, a tshirt, baselayer and my funky new trail shoes.
Into my transition bag went the following: cycling shoes, bib shorts, 2 x waterproof jackets, gloves, change of leggings and top for the 2nd run and my camelbak.

We loaded up the car and set out in the pissing rain, feeling sick once more, but also a bit excited, we were cutting it a bit fine as we got to cawdor transition at 6.10. I ran my stuff in, used the portaloo back in the car and onto Nairn. It was nearly 6:25 - eek! We parked up right next to the start line as people were activating their timing bands, I ran over and did mine, and queued up with the masses. I suddenly realised I didn't have on my race belt, and shouted Pen to grab it for me, she ran off to get it, ran back and came skidding on her bum back with it! Well there's one way of getting some attention from the boys!

The Race

Run 1

Before I knew it, the race had started.The rain had slowed to a drizzle.  I had planned on keeping it steady, but my new shoes and the adrenaline made me go bounding off across the field. I was passing by people, I checked the garmin, and I was doing 7:30s, this would be fine if it wasn't for the fact that it was going to be a long day or not if I kept that up. I pulled it back a little and settled into a more sensible pace. After about half a mile of pavement we took off onto a gorgeous piece of single track trail through woods and along rivers. I was thoroughly enjoying myself - why hadn't I tried trail running before now? The pace was being dictated by the person in front as there wasn't really any place to overtake, so we were pottering along comfortably. As soon as we hit the single track I was glad of my trail shoes. I'd have for sure been on my ass in my road shoes. Ducking under low branches, hopping over tree stumps, I was in my element. I man in front of me hit the deck, I jumped over him before I landed on him. Stopped to help him up, made sure he was OK then we set off again.

I was already looking forward to the run later on in the day. I couldn't stop grinning. It felt so good, I've not enjoyed running for ages and finally I was again quite unexpectedly. The rain was still drizzling down but refreshingly, as the daylight started to get brighter. There was a small section of road up into transition which I hated, I wanted to be on the sticky trails.
I tagged my wristband on the timing device and set about the ridiculously slow transition which was to come!

Transition 1

Trying not to get my feet wet or dry kit wet was a task.

Trail shoes off,
bib shorts on over skins
tshirt off

(woah! who's that gorgeous bloke!?)

waterproof jacket on
gloves, helmet and bike shoes on
then to ram everything else into my bag and tie my running shoes to it.

Despite being in the mid to front runners back, people who came in long after me, got out on their bikes before me. (including a solo girl I'd noticed - I should probably keep an eye on her)

Bah! who cares. I've got all day. (Or until 4pm to reach the final cut off in order to complete the race)

I finally got out on the bike, the rain was a bit harder again as I set off. At first I felt quite good, and smug on the cx bike with loads of people on their mountain bikes.

Penny was waiting just round the corner and gave me a big yell and wave and told me to get a fucking move on!

The next 48 miles all I wanted to do was get off that fucking bike and onto the last run.

The route was fantastic, the most beautiful scenery I'd ever seen (so far), lovely roads, some big climb, the rain had stopped and the sun was shining brightly. All that was missing was my lovely road bike.

The cross bike was like riding through treacle. The knobbly tyres rolling about as fast as a brick. The saddle causing much soreness to my undercarriage, and the miles ticking by so slowly I wanted to cry. I'm certain everyone passed me on that first bike stage. There were sections when I'd feel good, but mostly I wanted to cry. I resented the bike, I wished I'd brought my hardtail,  at least I'd have been comfortable and probably gone faster.

I saw the girl from the transition area, and made it my duty to overtake her - luckily she was shite at climbing so I left her behind on the monster climb near the end of the bike leg and I pleasantly said hello and asked if she was enjoying herself and she just made this strange grunt. Only to be overtaken by her on the even bigger descent. Once more I hated the bike, I'd really been working on my descending on my road bike over the summer but now I had no confidence, the brakes weren't reliable enough on the drops, so I had to use the ones on the tops of the bars, which were narrow. So I just braked all the way down trying not to slip on the wet road. The descent went all the way from about 1200m down to the valley floor to the kayak area at Loch Ness, a bit of meandering through and we were directed into the next transition area.

Transition 2

Bike hung up, untie shoes from bag, swap waterproof for dry, windstopper, trail shoes back on, dump stuff in a pile and off for a kilometer mile run to the kayak lake along a really pretty cobbled street, along a canal and past some pirates (I missed them but Pen showed me some pics later). I was dying for a slash when I got there but the toilets were locked. A guy said I could go behind his van so I did, when I pulled my shorts down I discovered that I hadn't taken off my flappy-hide-the-colossus shorts! No wonder I was in so much pain!

Kayak 1

Life jacket on, and down to the shore. I was offered someone to pair up with, but I said "No, I wanna do it under my own steam"

"you sure?"

"Yes, I'm nails" ha what a cock

the kayaks were different to the one I'd tried out earlier that week, they were sit on instead of in, they were much easier, the lack of wind and current helped too and before I knew it I had paddled half way across the lake route.

This wasn't so bad. Round the corner I could see the shore again, and paddled myself over, clambered out with some help from the marshals, ditched the life jacket and ran back round the lake and for another kilometer or so back to transition

Transition 3

Filled up my camel bak, changed shoes again, had a flapjack bite or two which were being offered and pocketed a few jelly babies for later (my friend Sally Pinegar (nutritionist) of Fit Naturally fame had given me a nutrition plan for the event and I'd been fuelling on gels until now, I'd packed a sarnie which I should have had by now but couldn't be bothered earlier to get it out of my bag.)

Bike 2

I was looking forward to this much more than the previous bike, off road is where I'm happiest on a bike these days but again I resented the cross bike. It had ruined the nice bits of road riding and now it would ruin the fun bits of off road. I'm being a bit hard on it, as when it was on track or fire road it went like shit off a shovel, and I found myself really enjoying the single track and descents. I was passing people who were pushing the full sus mountain bikes  down things. What was that about!?

A group of about 6 of us kept yo-yoing past each other and we begun bantering a bit. Some of them really weren't enjoying themselves, despite what I said about the bike, I was actually having a brilliant time. But still I was looking forward to that run!

I joked to one of the guys who was complaining "ah but we have a half marathon to look forward to in a bit!"

After about 20 miles off road climbing and descending, praying the big rocks wouldn't perish the tyre, the bike route went back on road and with some more climbing and some incredible views, just 10 miles to go to Fort William.

Once more I saw the girl from transition, once more I took her on the hill, once more she made that weird grunting noise as I whistled by cheerily asking how she was doing.

It couldn't be far now, as we rode through the town centre and lo there was a sign saying "time off" which meant the timer stopped and we could go and get a cuppa, change our clothes and stuff before the final run. Also there was Penny! It was so good to see a friendly face, she must be bored shitless. I got off and walked with her through to transition and chatted for a bit.

Transition 4

Once in the transition area, there was a snack bar, and all I wanted was a snickers. Really craving it. So I got one, nommed that then went to get changed. I took my time once more, washed my face of salt, full dry kit went for a wee, and whilst in there I heard someone come in, and they evidently looked at my stuff, saw it was me and there it was - the weird grunting noise. Now I was pretty sure it was a grunt of annoyance that I was ahead of her.

But she was in and out of transition mega quick! I packed up my wet kit, put what I'd need for the run back in my camelbak (a few gels and some water) took my kit bag and bike to the transport lorry and had a little chat with a couple of guys there.


"Run" 2

I felt great now, the run was here! I'd come in well before the run cut off,  My legs felt good, my mood was still high so I set off at a jog. People were walking, I thought it was a run? I overtook a couple of guys who were umming and ah'ing whether to run yet or not, I joked with them to get on with it, and bounded across the field and they commented back about being "chicked" then started jogging too.

Through a gate at the end was Penny again, taking snapshots of me at my worst. I said I'd see her in a few hours, thinking I was being generous with my time.

Round the corner I realised why the run was actually penned as a Run/Trek. The route went straight up Ben Nevis!! I had a stitch from the snickers bar.

I didn't actually mind though, I climbed on up, varying between trotting, jogging, walking, scrambling. I bounced past one guy who said "you're going to run it!?" - "I'm going to try"

I overtook lots of walkers, recreational and racers. It was pretty mental but I still loved it. Up big rock steps, then we took a right and came back down it, this was harder than the up. I had to really concentrate on the technical descent. Being careful not to misjudge the big boulders.

A short bit of road then back onto the trail, below me I saw the "grunter" again, and made an effort to catch her. She was walking. The track turned into a fire road climb, I jogged on past, then past a couple of the lads I'd been riding with earlier. I jogged on up, then gave up for a bit as it got steep and marched on up. I didn't want the grunter to catch me, I was feeling competitive now.

For the rest of the route, there was very little place to actually run, the route was technical and tough and more suited to hiking, but still I was absolutely in love with it. I just wished I had someone there to enjoy it with, I felt a bit sad about that. If the guys had been there, we'd have been having such a laugh.

clambering up steep rocky steps, trying not to fall back down the other side, tottering along rocky river beds, splashing through streams.

I was running quite low on water in my camelbak so I started to drink from the streams running off the mountains, I felt like Bear Grylls! I kept stopping to take in the awesome views, kicking myself for not taking a camera.

I was still overtaking people who were struggling. One man was in a particularly bad way as I came bouncing along saying "It's only another 10k!" I stopped to make sure he was OK, I asked if he was drinking plenty and to have some thing to eat, offered him a gel, but he said he couldn't keep anything down. I offered to walk him to the finish, but he said no to carry on. To be honest I'm not sure he would have finished at the pace he was walking.

A little way down the track was a marshal with some water, I told him there was a guy struggling back there who might want some help.

I carried on trekking, I could see two people in front, who I seemed to be catching, but then I'd round a corner and they'd be a bit further away again. So I made it my mission to catch them and did a bit more jogging where I could. My legs still felt brilliant, but the terrain just wouldn't allow it.

I finally caught them and slowed to a walk and chatted to them for a while, discussed how fucking awesome the day was. We all stopped to admire the valley we were traversing. We looked across the other side and we could see what looked like lemmings, traipsing up the most enormous climb I've ever seen. The guys informed me that we had to go a mile down there to them their rubble, then a 2 and a half mile climb to the summit (gaining 1500m) before only a mile descent to the road then onto the kayak.

The dots on the other side of the valley looked to be barely moving.

We all trotted on a little, crossed the river and started making away up the long long ascent. It was pretty boggy in place,my foot disappearing into wet peat, climbing up natural springs. Again stopping to take in the views.

We were making slow progress, but chatting along all the while, one of the guys went pretty quiet like the way I get when I'm on the brink of bonking. I offered him a gel, but then they stopped to have some solid food. I waited with them, and took some pics for them. There was no rush to get back now, we'd make the final cut off easily.

The climbing went on and on, just when you thought you were going to reach the summit, it went up some more. Was it me, or was the air getting thinner? No, it's me, take on some more fuel. it's still a few miles plus a mile kayak. We climbed up further until we were in the clouds, "scotch mist" Penny calls this. Finally we reached the top and with a "wooohooo!" i jumped about a bit, and then looking down to see the most spectacular view of the day. The sun shining down on the valley, rain drizzling down on our heads, the coast in the background and the huge dramatic mountains surrounding.

The next mile was probably the hardest bit yet, a steep descent down wet, slippery marshland. My legs were trying to run away with me, so I had to trot and walk in places. About half way down I heard some scampering behind me, I already knew what it was. I tried to quicken my pace but I stumbled and scared myself and with "ooh, take it steady" grunter pissed past me! Shit.

There was no way I was going to catch her on this scary descent, every time I tried to pick up speed I stumbled so I decided to get down safely and let her take it.

I was so annoyed though!

Eventually the marshland turned back into a rocky track, then it skipped out onto the road (which again I immediately hated)

About a kilometer on road round the lake and onto the final section of the race! I overtook a guy struggling and tried to gee him up to no avail.

When I got to the kayak transition there were no other runners there, but I was tired and didn't think I would cope paddling alone so I waited for the guy I'd overtaken and asked if he wanted to share a kayak.

He did, so I chose a pink kayak and asked if he wanted the front or back - he took it from behind.

Sitting down was hard on my quads.

Paddle paddle paddle.....The guy at the back started whinging.

"Oh, ow ow ow! My back! oh my back hurts!! I have to stop!"

so we stopped, he shimmied about, paddle paddle paddle then "ow ow ow! my baaaaack!"

oh for fucks sake. This happened a few more times before I said "look, I'm tired too and the sooner we get back the sooner we're finished. you rest if you want, but I'm going to keep paddling"

So I did.

We got a little way across the lake and the current was really pulling us the wrong way, which made it even harder and made him even whinier! I was pulling hard on the right side of the kayak to keep straight.

He was moaning. Eventually he got comfortable (which was in a reclining position) and started helping me. But I was getting tired and crabby too, the current was being a bastard. The coast guard yelled at us to go round the buoy - man it was miles to go still and yet the current was still tugging us the wrong way. No one else seemed to be having this problem as a couple of kayaks sped past.

He stopped again, I kept paddling, it was fucking hard work, and the dickhead had the cheek to start making small talk

"where are you from?"

"Swindon."

"Swansea?"

"NO! SwinDON!" I snapped. "Look, lets just paddle and get back."

We had about 100 yards to go and the current finally let us go, and we pulled into the shore. I felt so relieved as I made some "nnnneeeeeeeeeaaaarrrruuuuummmm!" noises to the cute Marshall pulling us into the rocks.

Whingy man apologised for "not performing" I assured him that it wasn't the first time I've have that  problem with a bloke. Grateful to have my sense of humour back I bounded up the bank and ran across the finish line into the arms of Penny.

Photo, medal, tshirt. Was tempted to leave the bike behind for them to eBay but since it's not mine I thought better of it. Hobble to the car and back to the hotel, shower, and wine time!

Fantastic event and by far the most enjoyable race I've ever done, and I think I'm going to try a proper adventure race next year if  I can find anyone mad enough to do it with me.

I owe Penny a huge thank you too as I'd not have done it without her amazing support xxx

The Spring Ballbuster Duathlon - 5th March 2011

I've not entered any races for ages, particularly running ones as I'd felt my running was too shit as I'm really heavy at the moment (have been for the last 18 months to be honest) and I'd be disappointed with how shit I'd do. I wanted to do the Winter Ballbuster in November but I didn't feel I'd do myself justice and my running was terrible.

This has been my favourite race since I first did it in 2009, I've no idea why, cos it's fucking hard, and it fucking hurts. Here's the report from the last time I did it http://annabsracereports.blogspot.com/2009/11/ballbuster-duathlon-sat-7th-november.html

I revisited it to remind myself of how I trained for it back then and reminisce and make comparisons.

My preparation for this hadn't been ideal, but I was looking forward to it. I only decided I was definitely going to do it 2 weeks ago so when I got paid I entered it. I had planned on losing weight before doing the event which hasn't happened - I think I've actually put ON weight! So I had no high expectations of bettering the last time I did this. I've been out on the piss a lot, and my training hasn't really been specific, I've only done one long run in the last 8 weeks as I'd been focussing on short fast stuff and I'd been having some knee pains on long runs, so wanted to get rid of that. I should have been marathon training now but that's gone out the window too, so I've been doing lots of fun stuff playing on my mountain bike, and barely touched my road bike all winter due to the icy conditions and because I've been having so much fun on my mountain bike.

So with only one hill session on each the bike and run, nights out on the rum, not distance riding and no brick sessions I wasn't heading into the race in the best shape oh and being a stone overweight (at least) the week before was no place to do anything long or try and lose pounds so I tapered. I don't really do this well but I remember that last time I busted my balls I tapered and it helped and it's a long race, you need to be fresh for it. I managed to organise lifts to work for 3 days, allowing my legs to rest but still do some short easy sessions on Monday and Thursday on my commute to work. The temperature had dropped a lot on last week but the forecast was clear, sunny and not much wind, just cold!

I had intended staying with Suzie Friday night as she lives really close to the event but my Dad's car which I normally borrow had to be scrapped so had no means of transport - luckily my Dad is brilliant and said he'd drive me on race day. This however meant a 4am alarm call to get there for 7 - the race was an early 8am start! I had meant to pack the night before but as always I didn't get round to it, so the usual last minute throwing of stuff into bags as Dad turned up. We loaded up the car and set off, I ate my porridge on the way and tried to snooze but the sat nav kept disturbing me.

I love this time of year, the season is starting to change and the sun is finally coming up at a sensible hour. All those months of riding and running 20 miles a day for work in the cold and dark is finally getting paid back. The sun was beginning to rise, the temperature on the car said 0 degrees... brrr! It was going to be cold out there!

As we arrived at Box Hill I was reminded of how hilly the course is... we drove up "Zig Zag Hill" and I remembered how it hurt. What I didn't remember was how long it went on for! Two miles of switch backs, long hard slog up hill. But then I was reminded how close to the finish the hill is as we turned in to the car park.

I was looking out for Mike as I knew he was doing the race too and saw him crossing the car park to register so tooted and said hello, went to park, then join him in the queue to register. I've not seen him for a year since the "Twat Ride" we did this time last year, I told him he looked like he'd shrunk.
We registered and got given chips, numbers and a nice sweatshirt - got the top, might as well go home now...!
Back to the car to get my bike ready, kit in transition etc. All set up, I needed to change and another wee - it was 7:50 - plenty of time. I got changed, had a wee. Decided I needed to go again so did - better to do it now than have to stop on the run in a bush right? There was noone else in the toilets, and I checked my watch - shit! 7:58! I ran, back to the car where my Dad said he'd be waiting, he wasn't there, I chucked my bag on the floor by the car and could hear Klaxons going off! Shit! The race had started!
I ran to transition and put my gloves with my bike, inhaled half a jiz gel and ran to the start where I could see 200m away all the other runners! Shit shit shit! The organisers said "don't worry, you can still catch them!" as I ran across the field on my own yelling back "I thought I'd give them a head start!" I started my watch - the start wasn't chip timed, it was started off the gun so had no idea how much time I'd lost. But I pegged it across to catch up. Some guy shouting "go on 335" and laughing at my tardiness.
Within a few minutes I'd caught up with the back runners and started making my way through the rear of the pack. I was a bit annoyed at myself for being such a silly arse but I couldn't help but laugh to myself.

I'd decided against using my HRM as I've not worn it in months and I've been working on running by feel so let myself get into a nice comfy rhythm and remind myself it's a long event, don't rush it or I'll be battered for the last run (which I would anyway, but you know what I mean). My feet were frozen and felt like blocks of ice with every step, I tried to wiggle my toes but it wasn't helping.

By the water station I'd probably overtaken a third of the field and it felt good to be overtaking people so maybe it was a blessing in disguise that i'd started from the back. I checked my watch and it said 23 minutes, and heard someone's garmin bleep so assumed it to be about 3 miles. Satisfied with my pace I still couldn't help wonder if I'd be running better up ahead knowing I'd had a better placing. I focussed on setting my own pace and not getting sucked into the pace of people around me. I got chatting to a guy in a green top I'd drawn up next to and we were both hoping for a sub 4 time, he said this was his 3rd time but didn't think he'd make sub 4. We laughed about my missing the start and ran together chatting for a while. I found myself wanting to go quicker so picked up a little, we wished each other luck and parted company for a while. Miles 5 - 8 are pretty much all climbing, the hardest of them being from mile 6 - 8. I was aiming for 1:04 for my first run and 1:10 for my second (I'd have liked to plan an even split, but I know better)

The guy who'd shouted my number at the start was at the first hair pin of Zig Zah hill and recognised me and congratulated my running and catching up. I was feeling strong and powered up the hill. I wasn't sure how far it was to the end of the loop but checked my watch and thought I'd make my target time. There was a marshall on the final hairpin and she said "200m til the top" wow, I got up there quicker than I expected, I rounded the last bend and ran over the timing mat, I checked my watch 60:45 - awesome! I was over the moon, as I'd been assuming I'd really struggle with my running particularly given the hills and how little hill training I'd doe - and how heavy I am. I guess gravity is my friend going down hill!

The organiser also commented how well I'd done to catch up as I ran into transition and the guy in the green top was just coming through too and said "yeah, caught us up and over took" I felt good. I didnt fuck around in transition like I normally do. Helmet on, change of shoes, swap gloves, inhaled the other half of jiz gel and ran out.
Running across the field was awkward, I wear mtb cleats instead of road ones which makes it easier to run as the cleat is embedded in the shoe rather than outside of it, but they're still uncomfy to walk in and the were filling with mud. I reached the cobbles at the end and decided to carry my bike to save risk of puncture - it was also easier than pushing it over rocks.

I got to the road and went to mount, my cleats were full of mud so bashed them on the floor. My feet still hadn't thawed out and was a bit worried they'd get even colder on the bike.

I set off into a slight head wind and could hear my computed magnet tapping on the sensor everytime the front wheel went round. I assumed it'd dislodge itself eventually.

I couldn't seem to get any speed up on the bike so I tried to settle down, took on some drink and started chatting to the guy next to me, he asked what time i'd hoped on the bike - I said I'd like to do 90 mins.....I had thought this would be achieveable - i'd figured all that mountain bike hill climbing would have given me an edge..... how wrong was I! ha! The bike leg was horrid, on the descents I was really chicken, going round corners really tentative, climbing hills was ok, but I was too afraid to attack too hard know that there was still a long way to go.

I didn't let it get to me and I was still in good spirits. I overtook not a single person throughout the bike! I got to the last hairpin of the first lap and the lady marshall said "only 200m to go" and I laughed and said "and the rest" the guy next to me also laughed... knowing we had 2 more laps on the bike and another on foot.

I looked at my watch and the first lap had taken me 35 mins! yikes. That wasn't good. I wasn't going to make 90 mins but still I didn't want to push on too hard and mess up the run. I really wasn't enjoying the bike at all. I was half wishing I'd brought my mtb, I just wanted to be off the bike and back out running. I had loved that first run, give me more of that! I'd had some really bad saddle sore earlier in the week but thankfully it wasn't causing me any issues. My Dad was waiting at the top for every lap I came round which was lush, He's so great :-)
I decided to stop fretting about my time, just sit back, get round, switch off and look forward to the last run. My feet and fingers were now freezing beyond belief. I wiggled my toes to bring them back to life. The descents were particularly cold so I pulled my buff over my nose to keep some extra warmth in. I needed a wee on the last lap and decided if I could fnd a spot better to go during the bike than the run. So eventually I found somewere behind a wall and got off, my shoulders felt so tight as I straightened up.

Got back on and carried on to the end of the bike course. Thank fuck for that, I just wanted to be off that bike. How the hell did I do nearly 5 times that distance in the summer?? granted the bike course here was a lot harder, and the pot holes were terrible - nothing like the beautiful smooth roads of Switzerland. One thing I'd noticed this time was the absence of the crowd on top of the hill cheering. They made the race for me last time. The route was still well supported and I made a special effort to thank every marshal on my way round.

I tottered through transition - totter is the best I could muster, knowing my bike time was terrible I checked my watch and it confirmed just how terrible! wowza. I walked my bike back to the rack and hung it up, changed shoes once more took off helmet, took another jiz gel and grabbed a few haribo and stuffed them in my glove for later, dropping half of them on the floor.

I ran back across the field and onto my final leg. My feet were still cold but they were now numb. My legs heavy and rigid from the bike, I could see a few people ahead, so made my plan of just catching people ahead of me, getting a good rhythm going and getting through it.

My legs felt like they weren't mine. I couldn't find any speed in them, so I just focussed on keep an even rhythm and picking people off one by one. About 100m ahead of me was a lady with a great figure, we were running a similar pace and she too was overtaking people one by one, I wanted to catch her though. So picking people off...1.....2.....3,4,5......6.... etc I finally caught up with the lady about 3 miles in, I chatted to her a little, she was spanish, she'd done the event on a mtb! crazy lady. we ran together for a while overtaking people.....10, 11, 12, I went on past her....13.... she went back past me....12. I left her in front a while whilst we went up the first sharp incline. I was feeling quite empty, I only had two sweets left, and there was no aid station on the course, so was concious of bonking. I contiued past more people, counting 20 now. It was helping me keep my brain busy, so it wouldn't think about how my feet were swelling in my shoes, how my shoes were squishing my toes. If i just stopped and took off a pair of socks that would fix it, but I didnt want to stop. I couldnt stop. I wouldn't allow myself to walk. I passed the lady with great body once more, this time leaving her as we came to the last 2 miles of hill. I found man in green top again, he was walking, I encouraged him to run on with me for a bit, told him we'd still make sub four hours at this pace, he tried to keep going but said "go on, you're doing great, " and he fell back into a walk again.

A group of cyclists out for a saturday ride came past, one of them said to a girl in the group "don't worry it's not that steep" i laughed and said to her "who's he kidding!" to which she agreed as she rode past not much faster than the pace I was running - well by now I was mincing! The hill was sapping my energy, draining every ounce from my legs. i didnt' once cramp up though, just feeling the tank ebbing away. I caught up with a few more people walking and went on past, giving words of encouragement "not long now", "the pub will be open when we get to the top" there was a young guy in front walking, I said "come on, you don't want to get beaten by a girl" which perked him up and got him running again, til i caught up with him once more as he was again walking. He said he ws going to havea walk then catvh me up. The last stretch of hill, I wasnt' going to overtake anyone else, I had little fight left in me, and the people I could see ahead were too far to catch now.

A hot guy watching with his kids said "less than 800m" - "Woo!" looked at my watch - I was going to make under 4 hours. hurrah!.Just. Keep. Those. Legs. Moving. Forward.

Lady on the last corner said "200m to go" I said "yay! you're telling the truth this time!" and thanked her and trotted on for the last 200m.

I rounded the last corner and saw my dad - waved and went on through the finish over the timing mat, looked at my watch 3:57:35 - yay! Grabbed some water and found my Dad.

Found Mike, he did great despite some bike mechanical problems.

Here's my splits

Run 1 - 1:00:45 (which from the start gun is offiicially 1:01:45 - so I only missed the start by 1 minute!)
T1 - 2:14
Bike - 1:45:10 !!!!! This is shocking!! :D
T2 - 2:01
Run 2 - 1:07:15
Total 3:58:35

category place............ 1st !!!! Ok so there weren't that many in my age group but still - I won.... not sure where i was in the total ladies

How this compares to last time is really interesting....

Nov 2009

Run 1 - 1:00:41 (-4 seconds)
T1 - 3:18 (+1:02)
Bike - 1:36:08 (- 9 mins!!)
T2 - 3:19 (+1:18)
Run 2 - 1:07:08 (- 7 seconds)
Total - 3:50:36
category position - 5th

Weight difference + 1 stone!

My run times were almost identical which I find amazing. The bike time - atrocious! :D

I just looked up the guy in green top and he did 4hr 1 min so i'm happy for him too.

Still my favourite race, looking forward to the next one... after my legs stop hurting!