Thursday, 8 May 2014

TP100

On Saturday I completed the Thames Path 100 mile race in 25 hours, 21 minutes and 11 seconds.  I’m writing my first ever blog about the whole experience for a few reasons:
  •      It was one of the most amazing experiences of my life and I know my memory won’t do it justice in a few years’ time.
  •      I’ve read a few other blogs about the race and really enjoyed them.
  •      I’ve had more interest in this race from friends, family and colleagues than I’ve had in any other


The build Up
My first ultra was The Wall (69 miles) in June 2013. I felt strong at the end of that race and immediately knew I’d go further one day.  I was looking at Twitter the week after The Wall while my daughter did a gym class and I saw some people tweeting about TP100.  By the end of the class I’d registered.  From that point on, it was never far from my thoughts, particularly while running or travelling in general.  Run 10km – “I have to do 16 of these next May”; Drive to Whitby – “I’ll be running this far next May”.  Basically, every journey was expressed in the currency of % of TP100.

Just to backtrack a bit, as this is probably going to be the only blog I ever write, it’s worth explaining how I became someone who even entered a 100 mile race.  I used to think that all runners had always been runners, but I now know that my story is pretty common.  I was really sporty as a kid, but fractured my knee at 20 and took that as an excuse to give up pretty much everything active.  I went to the gym on and off and played the odd game of 5-a-side, but I mostly spent my spare time eating, drinking beer and watching TV.  By 30, I was nearing 17 stone.  At the start of 2009, a few things combined to kick me into action.  We did a weight-loss challenge for a month in work, my second child was born (at which point I stopped drinking for a bit and never really got back into it) and I impulse bought a bike following a few days at Center Parcs.  By September, I’d plucked up the courage to run my first 10k, which at the time carried the same nervous anticipation an ultra does now.  I got the running (and cycling) bug and have just worked my way up from that 10k to this 100 miles.  I might expand on this bit of the story one day.

Here's me before I was bitten by the running bug!  One more pint and that bottom button is getting fired across the room!


Twitter continued to play a big role in the build up to TP100 and was a great place to get advice and sense the mood of other runners.  It was a bit scary to see the amount of training and preparation races people were doing and at times I felt like I was going into an exam I’d not revised enough for.  However, on the whole it felt good to be going into something where everyone is on the same team and genuinely wishing each other well.  My training had gone ok, albeit with a bit of an ITB problem for the last few months, which was causing my left knee and hip to hurt for a few days after each run.  I can’t say it affected me too much though and apart from a DNF at Hardmoors 55 in May (which I quickly rectified by completing the Oldham Way Ultra the following week), everything went pretty much to plan.

One of the most significant moments in the build up to the race was when Ste, a mate from my running group Greenfield Greyhounds, offered to pace me for the last 49 miles.  Not only was he a brilliant pacer on the day, he kept me company for several hundred training miles too.  He’s a top man!

The nerves gradually built up and as I travelled down to the race on Friday with my brother-in-law Alan (an excellent runner who came 20th in 20:02) I couldn’t think or talk about anything else. Sleep on the Friday was a bit rubbish, as it had been for the last few days.

The hour before the race in Richmond was great as I got to meet a few people I only knew through Twitter.  Susie, Sean, Andrew, Joe and Neil were really friendly and our paths were to cross several times throughout the race too.  We took a few pictures, compared plans and enjoyed an excellent race briefing which included the very clever use of a fire alarm to defuse nerves(!).  Most people I spoke to only had the objective of finishing.  I’d decided I’d be happy with sub-28 and delighted with sub-24.

Luckily, the weather was one less thing to worry about as the forecasts that predicted a dry day turned out to be true.  It’s fair to say the weather was pretty much perfect for the time of year.  At 10am, under clear blue skies, 220 or so of us set out from Richmond – next stop Oxford!!

The first half: Richmond to Henley
Obviously the next stop wasn't really Oxford.  Thinking of it that way would have been fatal for my chances of finishing.  I heeded the excellent advice to only think about the next checkpoint.  As I overheard somebody saying before the start, “all you have to do is leave 13 checkpoints”.  I’d done some pretty meticulous plans about the pace I would have to do in each segment to get me to Henley in around 10 hours, 30 minutes.  I was soon ahead of the schedule and knew it wasn't ideal, as I was in front of people I sensed (correctly as it turned out) would be ahead of me at the end.  Anyway, I thought it would be good to have a few slow hours before Henley so I could arrive relatively fresh and not condemn Ste to 49 miles of walking and moaning.  All in all, the first half went without incident and despite my pace gradually slowing I did feel ok as I got to Henley after around 10:45.  I certainly don’t have nearly 11 hours of memories from that first half and what I can remember is pretty random: nearly choking on a sausage roll at CP2; passing some unbelievably big houses; seeing  an incredible blue houseboat; jumping out of the way of about 40 dogs that looked like they belonged on a hunt; passing the Thames Lodge in Staines, a hotel I used to stay in for work at a time when running 1 mile, never mind 100 miles was not on my radar.  I also remember the spells I had running with some great people: Graham from Scotland, Joe and Neil from Twitter and John who I feel like I was with from about mile 35 to 51.  All certainly helped the time pass more quickly.

Ste, or Jeeves as I should have called him for the next 15 hours, was waiting at Henley as planned and he got to work getting me some pasta and various other snacks.  Eating is always a problem for me at endurance events, but I was doing pretty well.  Throughout the race, I didn't worry what I ate, I just made sure I got something down me.  I drank plenty of coke and some pink electrolyte stuff they had at every checkpoint.  I got changed into warm clothes and had a good sit down.  I had a drop bag at Henley and donned running tights and a total of 4 layers on my top, which turned out to be perfect.  I was probably at Henley for nearly 30 minutes in the end - spending too much time sat on a comfy chair at checkpoints was definitely a feature of my race!

The second half: Henley to Oxford
One part of my mental preparation that paid dividends was embracing the challenge of running in the dark, thinking it would be “a bit of fun”.  As we set off, the combination of the food, rest, fresh clothes and cheerful pacer gave me a real spring in my step.  We passed around ten people in the first few miles, then passed them again after we took a wrong turn and had to cut across a muddy field back to the path (sorry to the fella who followed us!).  Miles 52 to 75 were probably my favourite of the race.  The terrain was tricky but a run/walk strategy was serving us well.  We were averaging under 13 minute miles and working our way through the field.  We were still within 24 hour pace and I was starting to think it could be possible.  It was only at checkpoints where we were losing time, but I wanted to make sure I did my resting there so I wasn't forced to stop in the middle of a cold field. 

The turning point came on the 9.5 miles between the 77.5 and 85 mile checkpoints!  By this time our Garmins were dead and we only knew where we were by looking at the time and estimating a pace of 14 minutes per mile.  When 2 hours passed and we still couldn’t see the end of the everlasting field we were in (it was light by now), we could only assume our pace had dramatically slowed.  On arrival at the checkpoint, we were told the diversion we had all had to follow added a couple of miles to the stage.  I was sort of pleased, as I had heard there would be two extra miles somewhere, but it was too late, I was broken.  The last 15 miles were a walk, and a slow one at that.  The results show they took me 4 ½ hours.  I was swearing a lot and moaning a lot (“I’m bored of these f’ing fields”, “how can it possibly only be 2 miles since we left that f’ing checkpoint”, etc., etc.).  At some point I wrote off my 24 hour target, but took some comfort in that fact that Ste was never going to let me not finish.  We did however see plenty of examples of bad luck forcing people to drop (pull out) - blisters and cold seemed to be the biggest issues but, as I was suffering with neither, I never really doubted that I’d finish within 28 hours. The 14 minute mile pace continued as we moved, but I started to soak up more and more of the hospitality at checkpoints.  I reckon I easily spent over 2 hours in checkpoints throughout the day – I do like a good brew though!

Time was a strange thing during the race and particularly the night section.  Hours now seem like minutes, but at the time each minute felt like hours.  At one stage I said to Ste “I’m so happy that we’ll be nearly done in 7 hours”.  How ridiculous is a race when 7 hours seems like a short amount of time?!?

We were joined for the last 5 mile section by Kat, who we'd been running close to for a couple of hours, but we were all too tired to speak.  I remember thinking, after about half an hour of walking silently together, “I really should ask this girl her name”.  I was just too tired to even do that, so I only asked as we were within a few hundred yards of the finish.  We were passed by a few people in the last stage, including Susie who, along with her pacer Sean, went past like a train.  Whatever she had at that last checkpoint, I want some of next time!

I’ll never forget the first sight we had of the finish in the grounds of Oxford Uni.  There weren't many people (maybe 100 or so) but they made a huge noise for us.  Kat and I said we’d run the last 100 yards.  She was spurred on by the sight of her dad and sprinted, while I sort of shuffled.  Crossing the line and collecting our buckle after 25 hours and 21 minutes of effort was a feeling I can’t find the word to describe.


The Aftermath
I’m obviously proud of what I've achieved, but I can’t exactly say I’m satisfied.  As much as I love running, I was hoping the 100 miles would leave me fulfilled enough to put ultras behind me.  I really want to spend more time cycling and swimming (I currently swim like a brick) so I can start to work towards an ironman to celebrate my 40th in July 2016.  Whether it’s the temptation to attempt sub-24 again or just the fact that I enjoyed myself, I don’t know.  I just know I’m not saying “never again”.

After four days, I’m feeling almost back to normal.  I was lucky enough to avoid blisters and the aches in my legs are subsiding every day.  I’m still feeling the effects of the missed night’s sleep though.

One of my favourite things is the reaction of people when they hear what I’ve done.  Here are some of the common things people say (along with what I think when they say them).  Fellow runners – give yourself a point for each one you’ve heard in the last week.....
  • “You’re mad” (ok – if you call doing something which makes me happy and healthy makes me mad, then I’m mad)
  • “100 miles? I wouldn’t even like to drive that far” (neither would I, but running is more enjoyable than driving)
  • “It took 25 hours?  So it’s more of a walk then?” (I suppose, but it didn’t feel like it)
  • “Running is bad for your knees” (I’ve been beaten by enough V60s in races to suspect this isn’t true)
  • “I’d love to run, but I just don’t have the time” (Yes you do, you just spend it doing something else)

  
Thank Yous
  • Organisers – Pre race communications, race briefing, course markings, volunteers, checkpoint food and facilities at the end were all 10 out of 10 (except for the volunteers who would get 11).
  • Ultra runners – you are a brilliant bunch of people.  If the only way I get to spend time in your company is to run 100 miles, then it’s worth it!
  • Greenfield Greyhounds – my friendly running group.  My 12 months of running with you all has been amazing and knowing so many of you were following our progress gave me a real boost.  I was proud to wear my GG vest as I crossed the line!
  • Anna, Martha and Stanley – I know that the time I spent training for this could have been spent with you all (but you know I’d have been grumpy without my running!!).
  • Family, friends and colleagues – I know I must have turned into a running bore as this race has got close.  Thanks to those who have at least pretended to take an interest.
  • Last but not least....... Ste Lee – leaving your family for the weekend to trek over 50 miles while I moaned and swore is something I’ll be forever grateful for.  I can say with some certainty I’d have DNF’d without you.

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