The Raidlight Arc 50 2022

I toed the line of the MudCrew Arc 50 back in 2020 after being a long admirer of this race. I was undertrained, naive and completely underestimated just how challenging it was. I made it as far as 28 miles before missing the cut-off at St Ives and was subsequently timed out of the race. This experience triggered something in me and left me with a hunger to return and finish what I had started.

For those unfamiliar with the race, it is described in the event guide:

"The Arc50 is a 50mile footrace with competitors running in challenging winter conditions. The Arc50 is a point-to-point race from The Minack Theatre, Porthcurno to Porthtowan taking in 50miles of stunning and dramatic Cornish coast-path. By passing Land’s End it will complete an Arc around the extreme south west tip of Cornwall. The race has a strict 15.5 hour cut-off with additional checkpoint and safety cut-offs on route. Competitors will need the ability and experience of being self-sufficient for long periods of time in potentially extreme weather conditions".

Pre-race

Training commenced in earnest in October 2020 after lockdown cancelled events and afforded me the time to properly rehab a foot injury which had plagued me for the past 2 years. I took the guesswork out of my training and got a coach to ensure I was as prepared as I could possibly be. I also recced the remaining 22 miles of the course so I'd know what to expect after St Ives. Then another lockdown struck and the 2021 event was cancelled in late December. 

In someways this may have been a blessing. 2021 ended up being a year of racing all of the previous years cancelled events and training consistently. I became more experienced at ultramarathon distances completing four 50km races in the first half of the year and stepped up the distance completing the 43 mile St Peter's Way Ultramarathon. This race was a turning point and gave me the belief that I was ready to take on 50 miles. 

In October we visited Cornwall for our wedding anniversary as we do every year. I planned to use some of the week to run and hike the challenging Pendeen Watch to St Ives section that had previously caught me out. However, on the first day of our holiday I sprained my ankle and fell whilst walking on an easy walk along the South West Coast Path. My ankle turned out to be fine but the 2 inch hole in my knee required 6 stitches and forced me to park any plans I had for running.

Coast path 1 - Emily 0

After 4 weeks of not running I'd healed enough to get back on track with my training. My biggest challenge living in Essex was always going to be how I prepare for the hills. I managed to get out on a few long weekend runs to either Wendover Woods or Box Hill in Surrey otherwise I was using a treadmill to do some hill hiking whilst wearing a 6kg weight vest. I did as much strength and conditioning as my training plan would allow in an attempt to get my legs hill strong and avoid overuse injuries such as Iliotibial Band Syndrome (ITBS) cropping up during the race. Knowing I'd be using running poles, I did some conditioning of my triceps (ski-erg and banded tricep extensions) in the hope to avoid the elbow pain I'd got in the 2020 event. 

Race day

Race day eventually arrived, with 2 years of waiting the stakes felt pretty high but I was strangely calm. I registered and had my kit checked on the Friday evening so I could have everything packed and organised the night before. Saturday morning the alarm went off at 4:45am, I'd barely slept in anticipation and I just wanted to be out on the coast path running. After being fitted for our trackers, we were bussed from the Eco Park in Porthtowan to the start at the Minack Theatre in Porthcurno. I usually hate this sort of journey as it highlights just how far you've got to run, however I was chatting the whole way to the person sat next to me which provided a welcome distraction. 

Pre-registration hoping I'd be back at this spot sometime Saturday evening

Once dropped off by the bus we had a 10 min walk up the steep, narrow lanes to the Minack Theatre. The darkness was just lifting at this point to reveal a grey and windy day, though fortunately it was still quite mild (for January). We had approximately an hour to wait for the start which gave me the chance to have something to eat and make the necessary visits to the toilet. Whilst it was a grey day, Porthcurno beach was looking absolutely stunning. I spent some time soaking up the atmosphere and views as I knew once the race started it would be a case of getting my head down and focussing. 

We collected at the bottom of the theatre and a few words were said in the build up before the drums sounded and the race build up began. We were played out to Led Zeppelin and clouds of blue smoke from flares filled the air. I'd learned my mistake from the previous year to position myself not too far from the steps as to not end up right at the back, however in some confusion the steps were not the ones I was expecting but quickly realised I could make my exit up a different set and join there main queue leaving the Minack. 

With Lindley waiting for the race to start

Once out on the coast path the atmosphere felt quite fraught with some jostling for space and not wanting to hold up quicker runners on the narrow sections of single track. I did my best to let people pass where possible and tried myself not to get stuck behind someone running at a slower pace even though it made me feel awkward asking to pass. At this stage it was all about banking as much time as I could to help me with the cut-offs later on. It wasn't long before my waterproof jacket was off and despite being blasted with a headwind I was building quite a sweat up. In my hurried panic I managed to spill the contents of my pack on the path whilst trying to stuff my jacket back in, I was desperately grabbing bits of precious kit that could be needed later on and trying to prevent them from either rolling or blowing away in the wind. 

Flying feet!

I had agreed with Paul that he would first meet me at Lands' End 5 miles into the race. It was unlikely that I'd need anything at this stage but at least gave me the comfort of knowing that if I did need my running poles or to change kit I had that option. As it happened all I needed to do was hand off a gel wrapper although it gave me a boost to see the friendly faces of Paul and Maxine (who was crewing for Lindley). 

I can confirm that I still dislike the great big slabs of granite that have been laid along the path leaving Lands' End, it seemed like my feet were just the right size to slip between the gaps and the risk of tripping or spraining my ankle left me seeking out the grass or dirt path. Luckily this didn't go on for too long. 

Sennen Cove took me a little by surprise, considering I'd been here before I think I must have run through with my eyes closed as I don't recall it being quite so beautiful! With it's wide golden beaches, I don't know why I've never surfed here, it's somewhere I will be returning to with my board when I am next visiting. The sand however was not so great to run on for a short section of the path, that stuff really saps the energy out of your legs! 

The next crew meeting point was Cape Cornwall 11 miles in. The approach whilst downhill was really rough underfoot, there was a massive temptation to run it however the ruggedness of the underfoot conditions seemed almost ripe for breaking an ankle so I picked my moments to run carefully. After a lovely descent is a sharp ascent up to some steps before the carpark, there was me trying to pretend I was all fresh when I saw my crew but those steps totally got me! Again not much was needed, just a top up of fluids. To make our crew stops as efficient as possible, I'd got some spare bottles to save any faffing with refilling. It was a lot easier swapping empties for full ones and saved precious minutes. I picked up my running poles from this point knowing that the terrain was about to get a bit steeper.

Battling the hills and steps into Cape Cornwall

Onward to the first cut off of the race, 1pm at Pendeen Watch. This next section was the freshest in my memory as I'd walked it in October with a knee full of stitches. The landscape here is quite different with the visible remains of Cornwall's mining heritage and wheal houses. I was glad to have my poles with me at times as some areas around the mines, the rocks were loose underfoot and I was quite keen to stay upright if I had a choice. During this section I chatted to a few people which helped pass the time. 

Cape Cornwall
(photo from a previous course recce)

The 4 miles to Pendeen Watch soon passed and I was delighted to make it well ahead of the safety cut-off (and 11 minutes ahead of my 2020 time). I spent a moment here sorting myself out preparing for the long stretch to St Ives. It seemed like a good opportunity to eat some solid food so I stopped and ate a Marmite sandwich and grabbed a slice of pizza which I ate whilst running out of the checkpoint. I also filled my spare 500ml soft flask and popped it in the back of my pack with water so I had 1.5L on me in case extra was needed.

Pendeen Watch to St Ives is a remote 13 mile stretch of the course with little in the way of crew access points. The terrain is really gnarly with sections of boulder to navigate and is wet underfoot no matter the time of year. This section has the ability to make or break your race, it's all about beating the 5pm cut-off at St Ives. This was for me personally the least enjoyable part of the race, it really tests your mental resolve. 

Tactical running pole usage

The weather whilst dry for January seemed to make little difference to the ground conditions on this stretch. There were plenty of puddles and ankle deep sections of bog to wade through which made running at times tricky. Added to this, the puddles and bog hide the dangers underfoot so caution is required at times. I didn't expect it to be quite as wet so hadn't worn my Sealskinz waterproof socks which I regretted. Rather than waste time pussyfooting around the mud and puddles (lesson learnt from 2020) I just went straight through knowing that fresh socks and trainers awaited at St Ives. 

The terrain is very technical and all concentration is required, at around 18 miles in I roll my ankle. It feels bad, it's the one I rolled in August on the RAT and again in October when I fell. I am angry at myself for not taping it as precaution. I walk for a bit and can feel the ankle starting to swell a little, I try a run and it feels ok. I think the swelling has given me enough stability for it to be ok, I decide I will get it strapped at St Ives. I am just grateful I have got my poles which will hopefully prevent me causing more damage. The poles whilst great were no match for the giant boulders dotted along the path, sometimes the poles helped steady my jump down and other times they just got in the way when full on scrambling was required.

For some perspective, it takes me 4.5 hours to complete the 13 mile stretch and this is with me moving the whole time! It's bleak and the landscape is featureless which makes it feel like it goes on and on. It was pretty lonely and I seemed to see the same couple of people periodically as we take it in turns to pass one another. I'm gutted that I forgot to pick up my earphones from Paul, instead I am singing an advert I saw on the TV and a song I last heard on the radio on repeat in my head over and over again. Whilst I had the extra weight of carrying an additional 500ml water, it was a good call as the warm weather had me feeling quite thirsty. I ran out of water here in 2020 and it just added to the misery. I keep hearing my coach's (Ronnie Staton) words echo in my head, move with purpose, do not stand still, be efficient and keep moving forwards. This mantra seems to keep me focussed. 

I'd caught up with a group on 3-4 ladies and we chatted for a little while. It was lovely to finally have some company and reassurance about the impending cut-off. They're convinced St Ives is just around the corner but I don't dare let myself believe them too soon just in case. Then for the first time in around 12 miles there was a change in terrain and some sense of familiarity. It's only bloody St Ives!!! Time looks to be our our side as we approach, flat tarmac is something in this race I actually excel at so I thank the ladies for the company and step it up a gear to race the cut-off to the Guildhall. 

Crowds of people lined the streets in St Ives clapping and cheering, I am filled with feelings of excitement and optimism rather than desperation and self-pity as I had when I was last here. I finally see some hi-vis jackets of the MudCrew Angels who take it in turns to guide and run me towards the Guildhall. I see Paul and he showers me in words of praise and encouragement. For me this may as well be my finish line, I feel like I have won the race and could cry! This moment is everything I've obsessed about for 2 years. 

Paul hands me a bag with things we thought I might need at the Guildhall. I am conscious that I don't want to spend too long here. The theory is once past St Ives it's job done. However, chatting to another runner who was timed out at Godrevy in 2020 I asked why they think that happened and they blamed spending too long at St Ives enjoying the hospitality provided by the MudCrew Angels. My first priority is to get my mud soaked, grit filled shoes and socks changed. I's not really thought this through and wished I'd packed some baby wipes in this bag to clean my hobbit looking feet! I do my best to cover my feet in Vasaline to prevent in blisters which felt pointless considering the state of my feet going into clean socks. I put on an almost new pair of Hoka Evo Speedgoat knowing that the terrain is a lot smoother from hereon. I turn down the offer of food conscious that I don't want to waste time and I'm not overly hungry, refill my water bottles and crack on. I didn't bother getting my ankle strapped as it wasn't hurting and I'm conscious of not spending more time here than needed so I instead have a wee and wash my hands. 

I'm out the door and on tarmac! I grab an apple off Paul which I eat on my walk out of St Ives. Aside a few steep hills, I run as much as I can of the next section. It's mostly good going on tarmac or hard packed dirt. I grabbed my earphones this time and popped on a playlist, I was feeling good but after beating one cut-off, I knew I'd another one to make at 8pm at Godrevy Point. It wasn't long before darkness descended and the head torch was out. I'd upgraded my head torch to the Petzl Swift RL with 900 lumens of light which seemed to be doing a good job of illuminating the way. 

Path from Carbis Bay
(photo from previous course recce)

The miles tick along nicely when I pop out at Lelant. Paul is there with some food knowing I'd not eaten much. I grab a sausage roll and slice of pizza. I bite the sausage roll and chew, chew and chew some more. It's just moving around my mouth and I can't swallow it. Turns out pastry is a bad idea after 30 miles, there's just not enough saliva to swallow it. The remainder of sausage roll gets fed to the hedge. I start on the pizza, a bit easier to eat but I am still not enjoying it. It's at that point I realise how sick I feel, I'd possibly left it too long to attempt to eat solid food.

Race snacks and supplies

I walk along the pavement with the lights of Hayle in the distance feeling nauseous and a bit sorry for myself when I sense another runner behind me. A lady walks alongside me and starts chatting. I am pretty sure that I am rotten company but she seems persistent and hints that it's be really helpful to buddy up through the night and run with someone. For me I have never run into the night on unfamiliar path so I put up little resistance to the suggestion knowing that the tricky Dunes of Doom where looming. 

We pass through Hayle and I see Paul, I try a sip of coke but do not attempt to eat any food. Sipping on water is just about all I can manage, I am feeling really sick by this point. My new found friend Julie and I continue on through Hayle to pick up the coast path again. I briefly stop to try and put on my waterproof jacket as the Cornish mizzle is getting quite persistent and I know to get soaked could lead to feeling cold now we'd lost daylight. Turns out Julie was pretty handy to have with me at this point, she's local so knows the course quite well and happens to have a 1900 lumen hand torch which will prove to be a lifesaver in the dunes. 

Coast path markers on the 'Dunes of Doom' section 
(photo from previous course recce)

I have recced the Dunes of Doom once before in daylight. I knew this was going to be tricky, the course is marked by granite stones which can be difficult enough to spot in daylight let alone night. Between my map on my watch and Julie's torch we get off to a good start. We catch up another group of ladies and about 7 of us team up to make it through the dunes. I am hating life right now, the sickness has got a real grip on me and my upper back is really aching. Julie knows some of the group so is chatting away. I secretly hope I can just drop off unnoticed as I feel like I need to be alone. The negative thoughts start creeping in and I am starting to tell myself that it really doesn't matter if I miss the 8pm cut-off at Godrevy. I start thinking of how good a hot shower and bed would feel and convincing myself that I'd done my best and the Arc had won once again. I tell the group to go on and leave me and try and convince them that I'd be fine on my own. Only to be told "no one is getting left behind, especially not in the dark". Bugger, this lot are too nice. 

I'd given up looking at my watch and didn't care what the time was, then was asked to check navigation only my screen was black. My watch battery was dead, this was like the final straw, if it wasn't on Strava then it never really happened so what was the point! The group were working out how long we had until the cut-off, it sounded touch and go but I had decided it didn't matter as I was stopping anyway! We passed through Gwithian car park and I could see the light of Godrevy lighthouse so knew we were getting real close. Again, everything looked so much different in the dark that I couldn't tell how much further we had to go. 

Then we were in there carpark with 8 minutes to spare. I think I tell Paul (and Lindley and Maxine who were also there) that I felt sick about 10 times! I ask Paul for a battery pack to plug my watch in and ask for a salt tablet. I've never used one before but must be worth a try, I feel cramp setting in from my calves, into my hamstrings and glutes whilst standing still. I slurp another Capri-Sun and contemplate what's ahead. Then I hear the words that give me some much needed encouragement, "you'll finish this even if you walk". I question a bit further as I'm not sure if this is just a tactic to get me out of the check point, apparently all I needed to do is walk 3mph and I can finish within the cut-off. 

I figure that this is doable so leave with Julie. In some ways it was almost sealing fate, if I could walk then why run? We walked out to Godrevey Point and the path is really disorienting in the dark. Once the path flattens out we try a little jog only Julie's legs are not feeling too good so we drop back into a walk. Not having much luck with batteries I notice my head torch start flashing at me. I think I've been running with it on full beam which seems to have burned through the battery. The mandatory kit requirement (whilst possibly excessive on the 50) meant I have another spare head torch and spare batteries for both. Rather than faff with removing the battery I opt for my less powerful older Petzl headtorch. 

Julie and I walked and chatted for hours, turns out we have a lot in common so we were not short of conversation. Paul tells me that he could always hear us coming before he could see us. We just carried on moving forwards knowing that every step was one closer to the finish line. I don't know whether the salt tablet I'd taken had anything to do with it but I no longer felt sick, is a miracle! I still didn't fancy eating but sucked on a gel and sipped the Mountain Fuel in my soft flask. It seems that liquid calories are working fine for my body and I wasn't feeling depleted of energy. I was really grateful for the company as it became apparent just how dark it was once out on the North Cliffs with no street lighting. Julie warned me about potential hazards along the way. It also got very quiet on the coast path with little sight of other head torches of red lights flashing on the back of other runners. It turns out quite a few retired at Gwithian. 

This final section was pretty good going, not much technical terrain to navigate, just the 'Bitches'. The Bitches are 4 steep descents and ascents which feel hugely unnecessary at this stage of a race! Some of the steps on the Bitches feel like they were out there by a giant and I was thankful to have my poles so I could use some upper body to haul myself up them. We had two sets of the Bitches to negotiate before Portreath and another two before Porthtowan. On tired wobbly legs it was all about being safe, taking our time and not doing anything silly at this late stage of the race. 

One of the 'Bitches'  
(photo from previous course recce)

After the most hideous descent off the coast path we arrived in Portreath where Paul awaited. He'd managed to keep a little black cat hanging around to greet me. There was nothing needed over than some words of encouragement and off we set on the final leg of our journey. The tarmac uphill out of Portreath felt particularly long and brutal. We rejoined the coast path and knew it was just 4 miles until we'd be at the finish. 

We started off with a steady walk, although there was a little doubt creeping in as to whether we'd be in before the cut-off. After the final two Bitches we were trying to work out how long it'd take us to get up and out of Porthtowan back to the Eco Park where the finish was. I honestly didn't know, in my head it didn't seem that far but then I'd not tried it at the end of a 50 mile race. After leaving the coast path there is quite a steep hike inland to the finish at the Eco Park. We then decided to put in a few short runs as to allow ourselves enough of a buffer, we'd not come this far to have to race against the clock and potentially miss out by seconds. This seemed to work as we arrived in Porthtowan, the coast path was over and it was mostly tarmac to the finish. 

We continued marching the uphill sections and jogging when possible. The final part was the climb up the bank into the Eco Park. This felt exceptionally cruel especially when against the clock. The route was marked out with flags which was helpful although being dark there was no way of telling where the top was, it just continued going up, up and up more! Julie had been met by her crew here so I pushed on ahead and hiked with some determination until I eventually popped out in the Eco Park. I was running at this point and spotted the blue inflatable arch of the finish line and triumphantly ran in with my fists punching up to the sky. This moment I had dreamt of for 2 years, it has been my focus, it has been hundreds of hours and thousands of miles of training, this moment is everything I've lived for.    

The final climb into the Eco Park at Porthtowan 
(photo from previous course recce)

I honestly didn't know how I'd feel at the finish, as the medal was hung round my neck and Jane (race director) hugged me I thought I'd breakdown and be a blubbering mess but instead I think I was in shock. I had my photo taken and collected myself whilst chatting with Paul, Lindley and Maxine. I see Julie finish a couple of minutes later and I go and give her a congratulatory high five before she disappears. 

I had spent January avoiding alcohol (not to be trendy) in the hope it'd give me a bit of a physical edge ahead of the race. I had visualised reaching the finish and getting a celebratory pint of cider which I sit beside the fire pit and drink. Funnily enough from 38 miles onwards I can literally think of nothing worse, not only that Paul informs me the bar closed 45 minutes ago. To be honest I am not fussed and will save my celebrations for when I get home and am better hydrated. 

I finished in 15 hours and 11 minutes.

Happy to finally have a finishers medal around my neck

Post race

It takes a good couple of days for it to sink in that I have completed the race and another couple of days before my legs recover from the 2200 metres of elevation! Overall I am feeling pretty good and have come away free from injury other than a slightly swollen ankle. I am also relieved to have not fallen over on the coast path this time and my knee is in tact other than a bruise from bashing it climbing over a boulder! 

I was really touched to hear how many people had been following my slow moving dot on the tracker and apologies to my Mum and Sister who couldn't go to bed until they knew I'd finished. If I known they'd stay up I may just have run a little more in those final hours! Thank you to everyone who sent me words of encouragement and took an interest. 

My awesome Mum supplied the post race Bolli 

Naturally my thoughts have turned to what next. I have a 46 mile ultramarathon in June (Summer Spine Sprint) but I am already weighing up whether I can jump up to the next milestone distance and challenge myself to run 100km, I am sure with the same dedication and training I gave to the Arc then it's within my reach. This is something that my training of the past 18 months has reaffirmed. With the right level of dedication and consistency, what once seemed impossible becomes a reality. Although life is starting to get busy again and I just don't know whether I want to give up as much of my free time that's required to train. 

As for the Arc, I have settled my unfinished business, although being self critical of myself I do feel that I could have run a faster time. Whether I'll be back for the 2023 race is yet to be decided. For now I am just enjoying the recovery and lighter training weeks! 

Camino Ultra Lea Valley 50k

Finally a race, my first of any significance since this wretched pandemic reared its ugly head and cancelled everything in sight! I originally signed up for the Lea Valley 50k last year as a 'warm-up' for the Arc 50, both events were subsequently cancelled. Rearranged to June 2021, I was cautiously optimistic that provided the governments roadmap of easing Covid-19 restrictions went according to plan that some racing may happen. My training has been continuous throughout as I knew at some point events would go ahead and I'd rather use the time to my advantage and be trained and ready to race.  

In the week leading up to the race, we'd booked a break which could be considered perfect timing for some R&R and tapering. However, we were visiting the Lake District and struggle sitting still! We loaded the week with the more strenuous activities early on, with some more 'restful' days towards the latter. On our first day we went on a run up Skiddaw, hiking the parts which were unrunnable for our southern legs and running the 'alpine flats' where we could. It was just shy of 18km with 989m elevation gain, it's fair to say our legs were a little smashed afterwards. Then followed some mountain biking (Borrowdale Bash and Whinlatter Forest) and more Wainwright bagging. By midweek I was a little concerned for the state of my legs and booked myself an impromptu sports massage to try and remedy sore shins and battered quads. Luckily after a couple days my legs were feeling refreshed and my final 5k run on the Thursday felt pretty good. Probably the most detrimental part was the 6+ hour drive home the day before the race. 

Summit of Skiddaw

Rather predictably, I didn't sleep that well the night before the race, a combination of anticipation and two very needy cats who thought we'd abandoned them. One benefit of the Covid-19 measures is the staggered start window for races. With a start time of between 9-10am we didn't need to leave home at the crack of dawn which helped me emerge from my sleepy state. Once on the road to the start in Welwyn Garden City, I was eager to get going, it felt like I'd been a long time waiting to toe a start line of a race and all of a sudden the feeling of excitement and nerves were bubbling away. 

Covid has changed the way races operate and the start line was no exception. Billed as being 'low key', I walked up to a gazebo, had my name ticked off, posed for a quick photo before crossing the timing mat. It was weird not being in a crowd in a mass start. Whilst navigation seemed pretty straight forward on this race, I downloaded the course GPX file and loaded it onto my Garmin just in case. I am pleased that I did as the race started in the city and weaved through residential areas before picking up the Cole Green Way, with no one else to follow it was down to me to spot the red and white tape indicating the course and directional arrows, I certainly wasn't game for any bonus miles today. When I did eventually encounter other runners on the route, it was a job knowing whether they were part of the race or just out on a Saturday morning jog. Eventually there was some familiarity of periodically seeing the same people and I found myself orbiting with the same 3-4 runners. 

Ready at the start

The first 3km or so was on pavement with a few stops for road crossings before joining the Cole Green Way which is a former railway line. This terrain was to my liking since it very much resembled my home training ground of the Flitch Way, also a disused railway line turned country park. I decided to operate a 25 minute run with a 5 minute walk, the idea being to keep my legs fresh for as long as possible. I did question whether I should use this strategy from the start, especially when a couple of runners I'd passed earlier overtook me during my walk break. The 5 minutes walking provided a good opportunity to start my nutrition early firstly in the form a some Lucho Dillitos guava blocks I'd cubed up and put in a bag. 

At around the 7km mark I spotted runners who'd stopped in the distance, some sitting on the ground and taking off their shoes and socks. As I got closer, I then realised the heavy rain of the past few days had flooded an underpass with no obvious way of rerouting to avoid it. Up to his knees in the middle of the water feature was David Bone (Camino Ultra RD) trying to entice runners into the water, I needed little encouragement being no stranger to OCR. Besides, having trained through the winter I knew that with the blister powder in my socks and how easily my Hoka Speedgoat's drain that my feet would hold up fine for the rest of the race. The water was deeper than anticipated and quickly was up to my knees and lapping around the bottoms of my shorts as I waded my way through. I squelched on feeling smug for having not lost minutes faffing around with shoes and socks! 

Part of the route instantly became recognisable as we entered the grounds of Hertford Castle where several years previously I'd attended a friends wedding. Oh to be sipping prosecco in the castle grounds instead of running silly distances! At approximately 11km we'd reached the first checkpoint at Hertford Canoe club. I was greeted by the welcoming faces of Mum and Paul who had come out to cheer me on and crew for a couple of stops. Not really wanting too much at this stage, I swapped some empty wrappers for some new gels and topped up my bottles. At this early stage in the race all was feeling pretty good, the weather was overcast and threatening to rain but in general comfortable and quite the relief after the heatwave of the previous week. 

The next checkpoint would be in approximately 15km so I trucked on sticking to my 25/5 pattern. At this stage I was getting used to seeing the same runners periodically and struck up conversation with a few, it bought that familiarity of racing during 'normal' times and made things feel a little less lonely especially when navigating sections of the course through Hertford. The Lea Valley section of the course was along canal tow path and reminded me a lot of my last 50k race (way back in 2018) the Stort 30. The path was relatively busy with walkers and cyclists which didn't initially bother me. On a couple of occasions whilst moving out the way to allow other people past I did briefly visualise myself tripping and falling in the canal! As the race went on I was trying my hardest to pick my feet up to avoid tripping especially as my legs fatigued. 

The Hertford end of the canal path was rather picturesque, moored canal boats gave me a little distraction from the obvious task in hand as I got a glimpse into life on the water. Saturday afternoon was in full swing, DIY, cooking, my nostrils detected vegetable boullion, Marmite, bacon, cannabis (a lot of cannabis) as I made my way towards London! A couple of party barges floated past with music, booze, laughter and fun, for a split second I could have questioned my life choices but as it happened I was quite enjoying my day out. The closer we got to London, the busier the path got with cyclists and walkers. I'd caught up with a fellow runner just as the other trail users turned hostile towards us. We'd approached a gaggle of geese hanging out on a narrow strip of grass verge at the side of the path. The other runner was clearly not keen so I offered to go ahead and clear a path, my theory being that they may sense I was vegan and give me a free pass. Luckily aside a bit of hissing, posturing and attempted pecking we both made it through. The other runner thanked me to getting him through safely! 

As I approached the checkpoint at 25km at Broxbourne, I could feel my hip starting to grumble a little bit, I just hoped it didn't get any worse. Met by Mum and Paul once again, I filled my water bottle with some electrolytes courtesy of KOM Fuel (event and checkpoint sponsors), had a cup of coke and grabbed an apple for the walk out. Mum and Paul were now making their way to the finish which is when I'd next see them. It had given me a real boost seeing them at those two check points. I allowed myself a little bit of an extended walk break whilst I ate the apple before finding my running pace once again. 

The leg to the third and final checkpoint was a bit of a blur. I remember thinking it was taking a long time and started to feel my legs feeling fatigued from around 35km, I broke from my consistent pattern of 25/5 to allow myself some longer walks. I also experienced a couple of mental wobbles and found myself quite upset at seeing what appeared to be a dead foal in a field (I couldn't be sure as I am shortsighted). Whilst not a blazing hot day, it was still warm and my arms glistened with sweat which was perfect of insects to stick to each time I ran through clouds of them along the canal. One highlight was running past the Camden Town Brewery (I'm a fan of their beer). With a little encouragement from passers by I eventually made it to the last checkpoint at Ponders Mill Lock at 37km. Here I grabbed a bag of salt and vinegar Hula Hoops as I'd started to notice that my legs were feeling quite crampy when walking. Leaving the checkpoint I walked and ate my Hula Hoops. 

Now on the final home stretch, just 13km stood between me and the finish. Although it didn't sound a lot, they felt like the slowest kilometres of the day so far. My walk out of the checkpoint seemed to have extended and at 39km I had a word with myself. With just 11km left to go I knew I could walk it and finish, however I realised I had an opportunity to get a personal best if I put the effort in. This was only my third time running 50km (in a race), my current personal best had been set at the Stort 30 in 2018 and stood at 6:01:13. During that race I had run to 20 miles and the last 10 had ended up being a death march which wasn't fun. It was an ideal race for a personal best with the course being flat and easy to navigate and the weather was kind. I knew what had to be done so pulled out my headphones, found a playlist and plugged myself into some music to help pass the time and give me a bit of a lift and put my sunglasses on. It wasn't particularly sunny but it helped me focus and kept the bugs out of my eyes.  

It seemed to do the trick as I was managing to take on the last stretch with only occasional spurts of walking. It now seemed that walking was more painful than running which was convenient. I switched my watch to the countdown view so I could see the distance remaining in the hope it would give me a psychological edge. Those last 3km's honestly felt as long as the past 47! I seemed to be catching up more runners by this stage and had caught a guy who I'd not seen for some while walking. As I ran alongside him I did my best to provide some motivation reminding him that we were so very nearly there which spurred him back into a run. I followed him pretty much to the end of the race using him as my way marker. 

As the finish line neared, spectators on the path appeared and offered claps and cheers of support. I cannot tell you how uplifting this was as I pushing my weary body and after 18 months of long training runs without any support it was most welcome. Then with 900m left to go (according to my watch) my legs run out of steam and slowed to a walk, I couldn't yet see the finish and it was as if my legs refused to cooperate without evidence that we were almost there. I gave myself a moment just to have a sip of water and walk it out for a moment before the final push. I began running again and spotted a '300m to go' sign which gave me some hope! Then before long an arch and some Camino Ultra banners came into view and I knew I'd made it. I was overjoyed as ran over the finish line as I knew it had been a fairly solid performance and my most comprehensive over that distance to date. 

Hands up if you got a PB!

I spied Mum and Paul waiting for me as they clapped me in. I crossed the finish line and considerately collapsed on the grass just far enough away from the finish line not to trip anyone up! My legs were feeling pretty rinsed and cramp was setting in. The effort had been worth it though as I'd bagged myself a new PB of 5:33:10, knocking off 28 minutes from my previous best time. I am my worst critic as I admit being tiny bit annoyed not to have made it a nice and round 30 minutes but I'd take what I'd got since it was never about going for a time. The consistent 25/5 method had worked a treat and helped me manage my efforts right the way to the end, I was in much better shape than at the end of the Stort 30. 

The finish was at 'Here East' at the Olympic Park just outside of Hackney Wick. There was a real buzz in the area which had been overtaken by runners enjoying their post race celebrations. Thank you to the Camino Ultra guys and the team of volunteers who put on a great, well organised race and an enjoyable day. It can't be easy an easy thing to do with the covid restrictions which still govern us. I picked up my finishers goodie bag (including organic coffee, hot chocolate and an energy drink), there was no medal but instead a Camino Ultra fabric patch. This was apparently a token I could exchange for a free beer. I reluctantly gave up my patch for a pint of Camden Hells which seemed appropriate after passing the brewery earlier. In fairness I doubt I'd ever get around to sewing the patch onto something, it was just pretty. It was a deliciously refreshing pint and I felt like I was celebrating, not just my achievement but the fact it was the first event in 18 months and we were in London. Don't get me wrong, this are still far from normal but this felt like the closest we'd got yet! 

On a personal note I couldn't have been happier with how the day turned out. I have been consistently training under the guidance of Ronnie Staton now for 8 months and am starting to see progression in my running. The past 3 months have been quite challenging for me on a personal level having dealt with an unexpected family bereavement. This led to a a pause in training for a few weeks as my body was physically and mentally wiped out and the return to form was slow whilst anxiety had a hold of me. At times during the race when things got tough I could have crumbled and used this as a reason to stop punishing myself. However, I was determined to have a positive race and have something to smile about after a pretty shitty few months. With several more rescheduled races lined up over the next couple of months, I am excited to see where my training leads me.    

Lockdown reflections of a runner

As I wake up on what is the anniversary of going into lockdown, I feel compelled to personally reflect on my experiences of the past 12 months. Next week the third lockdown will be coming to an end and restrictions will gradually ease. At some point when life has some semblance of pre 2020, we will no doubt want to look back on this strange period in history. This for me is a reminder that when the outlook may be overwhelmingly negative that you can choose how you view the situation. 

Firstly I want to acknowledge what a struggle it has been for some. I in no way want belittle anyone's experience, no matter what your feelings and experience, they are valid. As said before, this is my personal reflection of the past 12 months. I also want to make it very clear that I have personally been in very fortunate position. I have my health, I live with my husband who is my best friend, we have both been able to work from home throughout lockdown and we have been able to continue doing the hobby we enjoy the most. I am also an introvert so in some respects, lockdown has very much suited me. That being said I have still struggled with the uncertainty, worried about the health and welfare of my family and friends.

Just a couple of weeks before we entered into a national lockdown I was lining up at the start of the Cambridge Half Marathon. There was an unease in the air, hand sanitiser was at a premium and was chained down at sanitising stations around the event village. Toilet rolls at this time were also in shortage but I am pleased to say that they hadn't been rationed in the port-a-loo's! I was unwell at the time, supposedly sinusitis which the antibiotics I'd been prescribed were doing nothing for. I had a head full of snot and I'd never felt more awkward pulling out a tissue and blowing my nose in public before. I'd barely run since the 28 miles of the Arc of Attrition over a month before. I had been 50/50 as to whether I should run however I am in some respects pleased that I did as at the time I didn't know it'd be the last race of 2020 for me. It was a struggle to get around, old injuries reminded me of their presence and there was next to no chance of getting close to a personal best, I was relived to cross the finish line. Post race we paid a visit to Brewdog, sampled their beers and had a Temple of Seitan burger (if you're vegan you know). This was the last normal thing I did! 

The first and last event of 2020 - Cambridge Half Marathon

With all future races either cancelled or on hold I had nothing to train for at the time. This presented me with an opportunity to press reset. I was still carrying the symptoms of a torn plantar fascia which I'd been living with for 12 months. I'd received physiotherapy through the NHS but no amount of massage, dry needling, ultrasound or shockwave therapy was helping it. Physiotherapists had closed their doors, however in the new world of Zoom, some were offering online services. I'd met Tom Goom 'The Running Physio' on a course a couple of months before. Tom is based near Brighton and ordinarily it'd be a little prohibitive to travel that distance to see a physio. However, through an online consultation Tom was able to offer what all other physiotherapist had missed. We looked at my training, stripped it right back and started at a base level before gradually building the distance. I was also given some strengthening exercises for the plantar fascia and in combination I started finding consistency in my training and most importantly no foot pain.  

My work as a soft tissue therapist (sports massage) also stopped with going into lockdown. Before I'd been juggling a full-time job with 2 nights of massage a week. This meant Monday and Tuesday's were more often than not 14 hour days which at times was exhausting. Whilst I do look forward to getting back to helping people, I am also grateful for the additional time it has given me back. I have used this time to study and develop my knowledge of running injuries and biomechanics. It has also been nice to sit down to a meal with Paul at a normal time rather than reheated and eating at 10pm before crawling exhausted into bed.  

Being able to work from home in my day job has been a blessing. I have been a full-time homeworker for for the past 3 years so it wasn't really a change for me. However, it has forced a cultural change amongst my colleagues whom in the past would often bypass me as it wasn't practical to bring me into meetings and include me in discussions that were happening face to face. With everyone home working it has levelled the playing field and we've had no choice other than to hold virtual meetings. I have always enjoyed the flexibility of home working but now so more than ever. During the winter lockdowns I have been able to get out during my lunch breaks and fit in runs during daylight hours. It has also helped hugely with my mental health and on stressful days escape my desk and computer screen for an hour. With Paul working from home too it has been nice to have the company at home and on occasions we've headed out for a lunchtime run together which in the past rarely happened.   

A rare lunchtime run with Paul

I will be the first to admit that I am a bit of a kit monster! I have a whole draw dedicated to just running kit and goodness knows how many pairs of running trainers. With manufacturers struggling with production due to Covid and running being one of the things we are permitted to do, there was an emerging market for used running kit. It gave me the opportunity to have a bit of a clear out and consolidate my kit collection to just the items I really love and use regularly. I sold a lot of kit through Facebook Marketplace and was shocked at how quickly much of it sold. It gave me a huge sense of satisfaction that my kit was going to a new owner and getting a new lease of life whereas in normal circumstances it would have headed to a recycling centre. Not to mention that I made a little extra money (which I did invest in new trainers!).

Lockdown has meant that lots of people have taken to walking and exercising outdoors and my usual routes became very crowded. Wanting a little more space I started exploring public footpaths that I had often seen and wondered where they led to. I discovered a whole new network of footpaths and bridleways thanks to OS maps and have subscribed to their premium service which has enabled me to plan routes and send to my GPS watch and navigate. This has been great as I have discovered all sorts of wonders throughout the changing seasons such a woodland full of bluebells, various patches of wild garlic and where to find the juiciest blackberries that other people have not found! It's been great to have OS maps at my fingertips whenever out and about and look forward to exploring beyond my doorstep as travel restrictions ease.  

Woodland bluebells

Foraging blackberries

Not having the administration of a business and social arrangements I have found myself with a lot more spare time. I do love a running book and had quite a collection which I had acquired from several Christmas' and birthday's but rarely the time to read. I could quite easily make a book last a year and would only read if on holiday. This has changed during lockdown, after rinsing all the online TV streaming services I thought it would be a good opportunity to pick up some of those unread books. I also was put in touch by a friend with the editor of Ultrarunning World Magazine and have had the opportunity to read and write a review for several books which have been published in the magazine. Reading has also provided the perfect escape in a world where we have been unable travel and run races. 

Pre Covid I was an injured runner with the aspirations of one day being in shape to run ultramarathons. I don't think I will ever be injury free (let's face it how many runners do you know without a niggle) but I have been able to train like an ultra runner. My long runs on a weekend will often see me out for 3-4 hours on a Saturday and 1-2 hours on a Sunday. Having zero social engagements in the calendar (apart from when the food shopping is being delivered) has meant that I can head out, do my long run and still have the afternoon to catch up on chores around the house or just simply slob and excel at my recovery strategy. I don't ever want to be as busy as I was pre pandemic! 

Wild garlic picking

Project Lockdown 3.0

This year was supposed to be my redemption, I had unfinished business with the Arc. 2020 I turned up unprepared and still injured. I'd been diagnosed with a tear of my plantar fascia in the September and the 4 months that followed marked my return to running and rehab. I knew lining up at the start of the race, I was woefully undertrained and that winging it would only take me so far, that being 28 miles before getting timed out at St Ives. I have absolutely no regrets, I can hand on heart say that I left EVERYTHING on that coast path, it had my blood, sweat and tears! In some respects I considered it a recce for the 2021 race.

2020 whilst an absolute sh*t show of a year did allow me the chance to get to the bottom of my foot issue. Strength exercises and a gradual return to running gave me the break through I'd long been looking for. By June I was running regularly and found consistency in my training, something which had been lacking for me as a runner who seemed to constantly be chasing start lines and ignoring niggling injuries. 

Steady progression over 12 months

I'd been mulling over the idea of getting myself a coach for some while, I really didn't want to leave anything to chance and felt the step up from 50k to 50 miles was enough for me to need some expert guidance. I had a few names in mind but one stood out in particular. After an initial consultation I signed up with Ronnie Staton Coaching. I'd met Ronnie several years ago as the race director of the Robin Hood 100 whilst on crewing duties for Paul. Although we'd only spoken a couple of times, I knew from our brief encounter that he was the right person to guide me. His positivity is infectious and with an impressive CV of his own personal achievements, I knew I was in capable hands. 

Training started in ernest in October. We'd travelled to Cornwall for our wedding anniversary which gave me the perfect excuse to recce the final 22 miles of the Arc course from St Ives to Porthtowan. I'd been told by locals that the race is won (or lost) in the first 28 miles of the course with the terrain in the final 22 miles from St Ives being far less technical and much more runnable. I wanted it clear in my own mind what I'd be dealing with, so over a few runs completed the final stretch including the infamous 'Dunes of Doom' at Gwithian. After satisfying my curiosity, I knew that getting to St Ives in good time would offer me a half decent chance of success. 

Dunes of Doom

I was soon in what I consider 'proper' ultra training with long weekends of running and hiking on a Saturday and Sunday. In a reversal of roles, Paul was the one at home seeing to the household chores whilst I spent hours away from home training. Essex is particularly flat by comparison to the SW coast path and soon I was looking for trails which offered me some elevation to train my legs for the relentless uphills and downhills of the Arc. I discovered some trails around the Chilterns which are only an hour drive from home although time of year meant that it was very wet and muddy underfoot and daylight was limited.  

On New Year's Eve, the inevitable news broke that the 2021 Arc of Attrition was cancelled. For me the dream had ended several weeks earlier when Essex was put into Tier 4 ruling out travel to Cornwall which at the time was in Tier 1. On a personal level I was completely gutted! For so long, looking ahead to 2021 seemed to bring hope and optimism of things returning to some normality. However a new strain of Coronavirus seemed to have other ideas for us. 

After chatting to Ronnie, he suggested that I put my training to use and take on a personal challenge. With restrictions meaning I couldn't travel into areas in lower tiers I was struggling for some inspiration. I was considering Paul dropping me off at Epping Station and then running the 30 miles home following the Essex Way. I've only stumbled across parts of the Essex Way so it'd be something new to experience. The trails were an absolute state with the amount of rain that we'd had but it'd be a challenge for sure and hopefully a bit of an adventure. My plan b went out the window when it was announced that we were going into our 3rd lockdown. 

With my local routes well used throughout my training, I was really struggling with the idea of trying to do any sort of distance close to home. I heard that Centurion Running were putting on their 'One Love' virtual event over the weekend of 13/14 February. This was a couple of weeks after the Arc weekend but being part of a community event could offer some motivation and provide a bit of purpose behind what I was doing, plus there would also be a medal in recognition of my efforts. With this being the carrot to my challenge I entered the 50k distance and set to planning my route. 

My own personal aid station

Being in lockdown I wanted to observe the rules closely and decided to stay local, very local in fact. I conjured up the crazy idea of seeing how many out and back routes I could think of from my front door, turns out I could just about scrape together 10 different out and back 2.5km routes, this would nicely take me to my target of 50k. Also it'd mean that I didn't need to carry anything and I could have my own personal aid station at home which I would visit every 5km. I had my doubts whether or not this would work, would I mentally cave in given that it was potentially boring and also very tempting to throw the towel given I'd be back home so often. 

Ready to brave the cold

In the week leading up to the race it snowed heavily for a few days, then the temperature dropped meaning that the snow hung around but also bought with it ice. I decided to complete my run in one go on the morning of Saturday 13th February. The forecast was for bright spells of sunshine and a temperate of -1°c but with the windchill it would feel like -7°c! It was at least bright and dry for the day. 

Ice - a common theme throughout

My first three routes were 50/50 road and trail and the most rural. I decided to get these done early as they had the potential to be heavy underfoot with mud and it was preferable to tackle it whilst my legs were still fresh. It actually turned out to be the complete opposite, the ground was rock hard and where it had been churned up with heavy footfall had frozen solid. Whilst this had its advantages, it was also quite unforgiving on the feet and ankles contributing to an early blister on the ball of my foot. They were also the most exposed offering very little respite from the icy cold wind. At one point I was running directly into a headwind following a footpath through an open field and even with my head dipped and wearing a cap the wind was vicious enough to give me a brain freeze! This is where the benefits of having an aid station at home every 5k came into play, I realised that I needed a bit more protection from the wind and put on a windshell jacket. I'd also asked Paul to make up a flask of hot Active Root (ginger energy drink) which went down a treat.

Frozen trails

For legs 3 and 4 I was joined by Paul, he thought I may appreciate the company early on. It was nice to spend some of the run together although I was equally as happy on my own. Lets face it, you can't be an ultra runner if you're not comfortable in your own company! I had intended to structure my run by running for 25 minutes and walking for 5 minutes although I found I was unable to stick to this and walking was mostly dictated by the ice underfoot. The 10km we ran together passed quickly and before I knew it I was back out on leg 5 of the run. To keep me going I had put together a playlist on Spotify of 7 hours of music and had asked my Sister to contribute. It was fun listening to the playlist not knowing what song may play next. There was a fair bit of cheese (thanks Sophie) which took me back to my university days and made me smile. 

Leg 5 was something of a psychological hurdle. Whilst knowing that completing this leg I was halfway into my challenge, I also realised that I had to do the same again! This leg took me to the local country park, I ended up walking the best part of half of the route due to the unavoidable ice which was apparent wherever I looked. It was a real struggle and I was pleased to put this section behind me. Part of this route crossed the Flitch Way (a 15 mile stretch of disused railway line) which since Covid-19 and lockdown has been incredibly popular with families and walkers and today was no exception. I tried to keep my head down whilst dodging stray children and navigating the crowds of people out for their daily exercise. 25km done!

Ice skating or trail running?

Out on leg 6 I was spurred on by the fact that I was counting down the distance and I had an extra spring in my step. This was short lived as I got stuck behind tractor hedge trimming! Much to the annoyance of the tractor driver, more or less as soon as I had passed, I'd turned around and was heading back in his direction (awkward). This section was the last where the route mainly used the Flitch Way so I could look forward to focusing on the running and not navigating my way past other trail users. 

On leg 7 I found myself in that familiar delirious head space that I've often found myself in the latter stage of races. I can sense the finish, I look at my watch and try to comprehend the numbers. I get confused with how much distance is left to run and try to work out potential finish times. For a moment I think I can possibly get a huge PB for 50km (currently stands at 6:01), then realise I read the elapsed distance on my watch wrongly! Then settle on the idea I could get a PB if I keep up on the pace I've been going at.

35km of my run is now done, 15km to go. During my training I'd covered 20 miles on several occasions, I remember thinking to myself how glad I was when those runs came to an end and that I couldn't have run further even if I wanted to. In my head the thought of doing another 10 miles seemed easy enough, it was after all just another 3 and a bit parkrun's. To this point my pace had been fairly consistent but I am noticing some fatigue in my legs and I have a nagging hamstring which hasn't been right all day but is now complaining louder. I treat myself to a bit of a walk telling myself I would run when I get to the next tree, only I get to the next tree and then decide I'll run when I get to that street sign and so on... Leg 8 completed, 40km covered and the finish is in sight. Just another 2 legs to go. 

Impressive ice formations

I'm still on for a narrow 50km PB if I don't waste too much time at the house before heading back out. I grab a couple of Party Rings to munch on my way out. My next route is a very familiar 5km road route of mine. I run it often and thought this would be a doddle only I clock 42km (marathon distance) and the psychological brakes are applied! I walk for what was meant to be a little while only for it to be a lot longer than 5 minutes. My hamstring is feeling very stiff and I am getting some pain behind my knee. I realise that I need to run, the quicker I can move the sooner this will be done with. Although initially slow to get going again, I realise it actually hurts less to run than it does walk!

Back home with only 5k left I change my jacket as it's starting to feel cold now that the sun has gone in and I am moving a bit slower. I have pretty much blown any chance of a PB, I am not disappointed though as I was never planning on trying to beat it today! For my final route I treat myself to a loop of the village instead of an out and back, only I cannot quite remember the exact route to make up 5km! I am running only to find myself beginning to run out of steam and needing to walk again. Remembering that walking hurts more than running, I try and put in as many spurts of running as my tired legs will allow. Why did I plan this loop to bring me home uphill?! After walking the hill I turn the corner onto my road and thought I'd better finish running. As I get close to my house I can see two figures in the distance jumping up and down, I can't imagine that it's my neighbours. It's Paul and my Mum! It felt like a proper race having people there to cheer me in, although I say hi very briefly and explain I have to run past the house as I am 200 metres short of my distance (classic). Feeling victorious I stop my watch at the bottom of the driveway and give my Mum (she's in our bubble) and Paul a sweaty hug. 

5h 38m moving time, 6h 17m elapsed

I can safely say that I do not ever intend to run 30 miles from my front door again! I am hoping that this is the first and last time I need to do something as daft as this and that in future there will be little doubt over planned events going ahead. On reflection there were plenty of positives which could be drawn from this experience. Its was the furthest I have run and the first ultra marathon I have completed since my plantar fascia tear in 2019, for a long while I carried the doubt that my foot would ever be able to withstand long distance running. I was mentally resilient enough to tackle what could have been a boring challenge which had plenty of opportunities to bail, I knew what had to be done, focussed and just got on with it. Although I was 16 minutes off of my PB in the end, I was capable of running a lot more over the 30 miles whereas previously it had been a 10 mile death march to the finish. Also in reality a 50km race would not have a checkpoint every 5km which at time was very tempting to linger indoors out of the cold wind. That leaves me to conclude that I am overall very happy with my progress since returning to running, although I still have some doubt quite how I will one day conquer 50 miles let alone going any further! I will continue to trust in the process and keep training.