Crushing Cornwall and Excruciating Exmoor - Race Preview

Exmoor - the Devil's Work

It's only a week now until the grand two-part finale of this extraordinary series of races. Cornwall and Exmoor are in a league of their own, being longer and much, much tougher than any of the previous Five.

This is where the going gets really tough, and the tough get Girly. The experiences of the first Five will pale into insignificance in comparison with the dizzying rocky coastlines of these two monsters. It's time to Get Real. After the battering I have taken completing the series so far, these final two could prove to be a push too far. I'm feeling in good shape, and have managed a fair amount of training since the last marathon (almost 100 miles) but somehow, I think that just getting through these last two alive and completing the challenge is the very best I can hope for. The record times for these races is over 4hours 40minutes, so I can expect to be running/walking/crawling for well over Five Hours on each event. It's going to be rugged, steep and more than likely, raining.

If I don't die of exhaustion, then I will probably fall arse over tit. That, my friends, would be an unfitting climax to what's been a mixed bag of success so far.

So I'll be in pure Survival mode. I have to get to the end alive, and complete the challenge, rather like a lone sperm who has long since lost his fellow gametes, and is heading on the final lonely challenge of the near vertical fallopian tubes.

Will I wriggle my way to the end of this dark nightmare that I have created? Or will I die, abandoned on the coastal trail wrapped in a space blanket like an unwashed Tramp who never made it from Rehab?

Let's hope I hope I can conquer, and I find the holy egg which is the 7x7x7 challenge T-Shirt.

Amen.

If it ain't Pembroke, Don't fix it.

Ha ha me hearties, yet again I stand about to run into almost certain pain, on the start line of another Marathon. Oh yes, they're coming along thick and fast now, the latest being Stage 5 >> Pembrokeshire, a lovely twee place called Little Haven nestled in the cliffs of the National Park.

Here the coastline is undulating and gives way to some spectacular views of St Brides Bay, including Skokholm and Ramsey Island where I can sometimes be seen flying my little helicopter, as there are quite a few lighthouses around. The weather again was stunning, and set the scene for another showdown, of cripples versus coastline.

Looking at the previous years results, this one was the fastest course. As your best 4 places count towards a series prize, I was determined to make this one count. My knee was feeling pretty good, I had done the Carbo thing, rested beforehand, and got in a bit of training since the last Marathon. The Cornwall and Exmoor races will be pointless trying to race as they are so incredibly hilly, and no doubt this will attract some Terminator like cyborgs who enjoy that sort of thing. If I am going to get a good placing, then surely today is the day to do it. And if I'm going to do it, then I'm going to have to go for it with the big boys off the mark. Whatever happens later, is in the hands of the Gods.

I felt pretty good to start with, unlike some races (Portland where I felt dis-interested), and so I rode the wave, feeling quite excited as I could see the race leader and soon established myself among the front runners. We steamed along, and my local knowledge from having run this section before paid off, as I knew roughly what to expect. This knowledge however only lasted for about the first half of the course.

I was loving it, blasting along in the fantastic weather and taking in the amazing scenery, and checked through the first few checkpoints in some pretty good times. Arriving at the 18.5 Mile checkpoint, I took a breather to walk a fairly stiff hill, and couldn't see anybody behind me at all for at least a mile ! Then the route became quite tedious, with one section across a disused airfield which seemed massive and made it seem as if I was hardly moving. I could also feel some signs of tiredness creeping in and sucked onboard more water from my pack to keep hydrated. I had noticeably slowed, no wonder really, after the ridiculous pace of the first two and a half hours.

It was at 22.5 miles that the wind was taken from my sails. I was run-walking by now 10 paces of each in an attempt to keep going and things were taking a turn for the worse. Suddenly, a massive cramp engulfed my right hamstring mid-stride and I fell onto the floor.

This is it. The end. No more challenge. I am literally Hamstrung. Left for dead on the roadside. Maybe now is the time to Don my Space-Blanket and sit on the verge of life - watching my dreams vanish amongst the Cow Pats forever.

No. Not in Wales. I gathered my leg, sucked in more liquid, and ran like a Boy with Wet Trousers until - Miraculously, It subsided enough for me to carry on. I was hemorrhaging time, but there was a chance I could still do this. I knew that I was in the top ten finishers, and the time was still under Four Hours.

At last I caught sight of the Village, and knowing The End was near I almost broke into a sprint to get it over with.

I collapsed over the line, utterly exhausted and legs completely shot to bits. It was hard, and my own daft fault for trying to run beyond my capabilities. But what the Hell, this is for Charity isn't it? Please phone my helpine if you are not completely satisfied with your purchase.

I recorded 7th/102. 3hrs 56 mins over a 26.8 Mile course.

Results Here

To knee or not to knee.....

Guess what?

I've not run for 4 whole days.

My legs were complaining so I decided to rest a bit. I had actually entered a 20 Mile Road Race on Sunday (I was going to jog it - honest !), and I didn't do that either.

So I had a jolly good rest instead. Made me irritable though - a real Mardy moo.

I went for a test-run tonight, to check out the biological progress. It was good. My legs were moving quite quickly, much better than the end of last week when they were sluggish and painful.

I ran a two mile test. Out in 6min20 and back in 5min40. Va va voom, there's some speed there - so that's a good thing.

I'll carry on resting till the end of the week !

ON TARGET !!

Hooray ! Hooray !

Thanks to all who have sponsored me - The 1000 Pound targer has been reached for Cornwall Air Ambulance ! Fantastic News and a big thank you to Suze and Alan for the Biggest Donation so far and taking the total to the target !!!

I'm all set for Pembroke now - and I'm also looking forward to Runnning in Cornwall for some hopeful extra bonus fundraising - I'm working on the Charity to send down a representative on the Day !

Thanks Again All !!!!!

On the coastal trail !

Series Leaderboard !

I'm in the strange parallel universe between marathons again ! 10 days since number 4 and 10 days to go until number 5. It's weird how you can tell the body is busy repairing itself, and it doesn't take much for strange aches and pains to appear, from what would have normally been a straight forward training run. I had a strange knee pain the other day, which seems to have now completely gone, and shortly after it appeared on the other side of my knee. I rested it, and when I woke up in the morning, my knee was completely fine. Apart from my left hamstring is now complaining ! It must be a mobile spot of pain which just wanders my body randomly. Or perhaps a cell-workforce which mobilizes to various regions performing repairs, a bit like the council. Only more efficient, as this one must work at night, and without countless tea and fag breaks.

I had a loose idea of what I wanted to do in this middle week, ie a lot, but with the various messages of pain ringing loudly in my legs I have decided to do less and instead have been to the gym. This for me is a painful experience, as I am not a natural gym-goer. For that, you need a grunt, a vest, some food supplements, and to enjoy comparing muscle dimensions with your gym buddy whilst scratching your arse.

I, of course, do none of these things. And I cannot, repeat cannot, run on a treadmill. Just can't do it. My record is two miles. And it was agony. I think it the fact that it faces a whitewashed concrete breeze block wall has something to do with it. And there's no wind. Or rain. And it's infinite !

A treadmill does indeed go on for infinity. It has no defined beginning or end. It is quite simply a one-dimensional rotating universe of complete boredom. It just goes to show how much of running is all in the mind. In my distorted universe, running has a purpose which involves a journey. A challenge of me against the road, the trail, the hills, the wind and the rain or whatever it brings. And the rewards are the joy of the journey, the sights, the sounds, the sensations and the satisfaction of completing the course. Without that, you are reduced to the clanking mechanics of running for it's own sake - which to be honest - is rubbish.

To demonstrate even more my point that I am not a gym person, I also inadvertently turned off the running machine whilst somebody was running on it. Oops.

As you can imagine, I am a gym goers worst nightmare. But I did a bit today (not the treadmill) and hopefully it will have strengthened me in some way for the skeletal battering that will come from the Cornwall and Exmoor marathon monsters.

So far, after four marathons, I am somewhere up in 6th place in the Leaderboard, which is a combined table for all the runners attempting all 7 marathons (of which there are 38 brave souls). One of which is Malcolm Brookes, who in the 60+ category is also steaming through the series.

Now That's awesome.

Series Leaderboard here