Saltmarsh 75

My goal for 2015 was to run a marathon, it wasn't pretty but I did that. I had said that my goal for 2016 would be to run an ultra marathon (distances over 26.2 miles, generally anything 30+ miles). It was March this year when Paul mentioned to me Saltmarsh 75, a 2 day 75 mile run around the salt marshes of Essex. At the time I had not even run a marathon but for some reason I was intrigued by the suggestion and was willing to consider it further. Paul was touting the idea of entering the first day of the event and not the second but before I thought about the words that were coming out of my mouth, I had rubbished the suggestion and said we should enter both days. This is a decision that I have been continually reminded about!

Since the marathon in May I have been trying to manage my injuries and as a result I have been resting more than running. So true to my usual form I was finding myself approaching what could seem like a mammoth task with little preparation. To hinder me further I found myself with a honking  cold in the week leading up to the Saltmarsh 75 weekend. All week I was considering my options, could I make it to the start line, should I see if I could defer to next year, my mind was full of doubts but I refused to make any hasty decisions. On the Saturday morning of Saltmarsh I woke up feeling like the cold was finally on the way out, I was going to get to the start line and give it my best shot, there would be no shame in trying.

Saltmarsh 75: Day 1 - South Woodham Ferrers to Steeple

We were up bright and early Saturday morning to make our way to the start at Marsh Farm, South Woodham Ferrers. I was feeling strangely relaxed about the weekend, we'd spent the week before getting ourselves organised, we had packed probably enough food and kit to see us through a week, not a weekend! Better to have it and not need it, than to not have it and need it I say! Given the length of the run we both wore our Ultimate Direction running vests. There was essential kit that we were required to carry such as an OS map, shower jacket, head torch and enough food/water (minimum 500ml) to get us between the check points.

Registration was a breeze, a short queue to pick up our race numbers (1 and 2 no less - purely aspirational numbers)!  We then collected our commemorative Saltmarsh 75 lapel badge and the route instructions for stage 1. With plenty of time to kill we sorted out the rest of our kit, put our drop bags into the appropriate boxes and loaded the van with our camping gear and kit we wanted to be delivered to Steeple, the location for the end of day 1.

My 'I'm not bricking it at all' face!

I had been keeping an eye on the weather forecast for the weekend. Last years weather had made for challenging conditions with driving wind and rain on day 1 which resulted in a high number of retirements. I could handle the sun but I didn't much fancy the misery of a drenching. It was however looking promising for the weekend, both days looked to be bright and dry. I made the bold decision to downgrade to a windproof rather than a fully waterproof jacket to save on space in my running vest but still kept a dry pair of socks on me just in case.

Paul grew the ultra beard for this race!

The walkers departed an hour ahead of the runners. 08:45 we gathered for the race briefing, the realisation of what I had signed up to was slowly starting sink in! With time for one last trip to the toilet we assembled at the start line and dead on 9:00 the horn sounded and we were off on the 38 mile trip to Steeple.

We set off along a farm track before picking up the sea wall just outside of Marsh Farm. The morning started off cool and misty, ideal conditions if a little eerie! This distance was new to the both of us as was a multi-day event. We discussed various tactics in the lead up to the event agreeing on running for 25 minutes and walking for 5 minutes. However, plans do not always survive contact with reality as I discovered. I was feeling good and it was a joy to be able to breathe through both nostrils for the first time in 6 days! I continued running at a slow pace only slowing to a walk when there was a stile to cross.

Not nervous (honest) pre-race selfie

Before we knew it, we'd reached the first check point in North Fambridge 6.1 miles in. We briefly stopped so Paul could use the toilet and we removed a layer of clothing as the sun was starting to burn through the mist. The aid station had been cleaned out by the walkers who were an hour ahead of us, luckily we were not requiring food at this stage of the day. However, the drop bags of food we'd left scattered at various aid stations now seemed like a brilliant idea!

Captured in motion somewhere near North Fambridge
Photo credit: Andrew Kenyon

We had 7.9 miles until our next rest. I was quite enjoying the run at this point, it all seemed to be going well despite my general lack of physical preparedness. We chatted to a number of runners on the way round, most of whom were either there on unfinished business from the previous year or had completed both years the event had been running. It struck me what a friendly bunch the ultra running crowd are, no short of encouragement or help. As we were approaching half marathon distance I realised how quickly the good feeling was diminishing. Things were starting to hurt and I was beginning to fatigue somewhat. This was way too early to happen especially given I had to find another marathon in my legs. Check point 2 at Burnham-on-Crouch could not have come soon enough.

Mud and boats - a familiar sight

Here we stopped to take on some food and make use of the facilities. Again it looked like a flock of vultures had descended on the buffet table. Fear not, we'd left drop bags of food at this aid station. I'd run out of water perhaps a mile ago, feeling parched I drank a few cups of squash and refilled my water bottles.

We'd reached the stage of the race I was not much looking forward to. It was the longest and toughest section of the day, 13.3 miles, just over half marathon distance to check point 3 at the Bradwell Orthona Community. It is remote and extremely exposed, fortunately for us the weather this year had decided to be kind to us so with little wind and barely a cloud in the sky. This did mean that our water supplies were not going to last until the next aid station and our drop bag hadn't sustained us as much as we'd needed. Half-way through this stage the Dengie Hundred Runners had laid on an additional water stop and boy was I glad to see them. These guys were probably the highlight of my day! My water bottles were taken from my hands and refilled, homemade cake and flapjacks were offered to us, it was just what we were in need of. Our spirits feeling lifted we continued the trudge along the sea wall.

Oh look, more sea wall!

Whilst the course can be described as flat, it would have been foolish to assume this meant easy! The surface of the sea wall was punishing, at times uneven, narrow and on an awkward camber. By now my feet were feeling it, my ankles and feet ached. I was desperate to sit down and take the weight off of my feet for a moment. Paul however would not let me, I think he realised if I stopped it would be difficult to get me going again. We had a welcome break in the form of a concrete section of the sea wall, I could have got on all fours and kissed the ground it looked that appealing. The relief it provided though was temporary, things still ached. This section of the course was starting to get boring, aside the occasional pillbox there was literally nothing as far as the eye could see, just flat, uninhabited, desolate marsh land.

Possibly the last time I smiled along the 13.3 mile slog

It was here that I also discovered another annoying trait of costal running, nothing is quite a close as it may seem. I was desperately looking for a landmark that would indicate that we were nearing the end of the section. That final mile seemed to drag for an eternity. I could see the small woodland in the distance which the stage notes spoke of, however they just didn't seem to get any closer. I was approaching a very low point in my race, had I been given the option to drop out I would have done without giving it a second thought.

We'd made a huge mistake with our food drop bag organisation. I'm guessing when packing the drop bags we thought we may need some encouragement to get through that difficult section and we'd give ourselves a food reward to look forward to. Instead I had spent the best part of 13 miles struggling to get enough calories into me to fuel my legs which caused me to walk more often than I'd wanted to. The annoying thing too was running actually hurt less than walking but I could only manage short bursts before I needed to walk again as I'd run out of steam. In hindsight it was obvious, we'd run a marathon without a huge amount of sustenance, a few gels, energy chews, a chocolate biscuit and a handful of pretzels and expect that and the anticipation of what awaited us in the drop bag to be enough to get us though but it wasn't.

We reached the Bradwell Orthona Community. I was in a bad place, feeling close to tears I grabbed our drop bag and looked for somewhere to sit. The reward was a slice of cold pizza, I was desperate for something savoury. It didn't taste as good as I had hoped, I suspect it was too little too late for my body. I did a scan of my body, I was weary, my feet, ankles and knee hurt. I heard another runner mention taking some painkillers. We were carrying a few medical supplies so I decided to break out the ibuprofen to try and provide some relief. We stopped here for 10 minutes or so refuelling, possibly too long as when I did get back to my feet I was in agony and unsure how I'd carry on.

I hobbled away from the check point feeling overwhelmed by emotions. Then we emerged back onto the sea wall with the first sight of the sea. The tide had come in, the afternoon sunshine was beating down and all of a sudden I began to feel soothed by the sound of the tide rolling up onshore. May be everything was going to be ok after all?

With the most difficult part of the race over with I knew that I was on the home stretch. The final three sections of the course were bite sized manageable chunks in comparison to what we'd just covered. I just had to treat it that way, 3 and a bit parkruns to go. I walked for quite a bit, my feet were feeling battered and my knee was burning. Running seemed aspirational but I managed to turn my walk into a shuffle and eventually a run. I realised just how slowly the miles were passing whilst walking. I have a new found respect for the walkers in the event, it must have taken a lot of patience to not have got bored!

I battled with the 3.25 miles between check points, running where possible. On approaching Bradwell I noticed the change in scenery, it felt as though we were nearing civilisation which started to give me hope that we're almost there. Looking out across the water was beautiful and distracted from great big ugly nuclear power station to the left of us. I was eager to get a move on through this stage, I didn't like the thought of being around radiation and wondered if we'd see any 3-eyed fish! We stopped at Bradwell Waterside, CP 4 of the day. Here we found crisps, lovely savoury crisps. Both Paul and I were sick of sweet things, our bodies were craving salt. Grabbing a bag of crisps we were on our way again with purpose. The end was beginning to feel close, just one more check point to go before we were on the home stretch.

A lone runner caught up with us, a lovely lady called Cherie. We ran together, compared what hurt, spoke about parkrun and other running experiences. It turns out the that running world is a small one as we found we had mutual acquaintances. Chatting provided a welcome distraction and helped pass the miles as we alternated between walking and running. By this time I could feel blisters beginning to develop. My left forefoot was burning and my right heel most definitely had a large blister forming. We eventually made it to the final check point of the day. Once again we refilled water bottles and played crisp roulette with a large bowl of crisps. Turns out cheese and onion is not the most pleasant flavour to eat when running!

Beautiful salt marshes

After a brief stop we set off with purpose. Just 3.25 miles stood between us and the finish. We were informed that the navigation on this stage of the race could be a little tricky. We cautiously followed the route instructions as none of us fancied any bonus miles! Luckily it looked like we'd be finishing in the daylight so this should help us find hard to spot gates and openings in hedgerows. My watch battery had been alerting me to a low battery for some time, it fell short of the reported 10 hours activity time as it died with 2 miles still to go! Had I not been so focussed on making it to the finish I would have resorted to using the Garmin app on my phone to capture those final 2 miles.

We soon popped out onto a section of the seawall Paul and I recognised from our recce run the previous weekend. We were so close now and also confident that we knew the way to the finish at Steeple Village Hall. We crossed the last field which had recently been ploughed and added to the discomfort I was already in with my feet. We could see lights in the distance, the cutting through the hedgerow had been lined with fairy lights so we knew were were on the right tracks. We went through the last gates to the grounds of the Village Hall, joined hands and crossed the finish line, we'd done it! 38 miles (or 39 I am informed by those whose battery lasted) in 9 hours and 26 minutes. It was way off of Paul's original estimate of 8 hours but I did not care, I was officially an ultramarathoner!

In the Village Hall Paul and I grabbed a cup of tea and coffee and some toast. We put our names down for a sports massage as we knew this would be vital to our recovery. I took my shoes off and assessed the damage to my feet. Just one large blister on my heel, it was exceedingly painful and I was not looking forward to putting shoes on again. Whilst I waited for a sports massage Paul went to the pub where we'd be camping over night to check our kit had arrived. The previous year the event organisers had put up people's tents, however there was a large number of drop outs after day 1 due to the poor weather conditions so we'd been told they wouldn't be offering this service this year. I felt really bad that I wasn't helping Paul who was exhausted and putting up a tent on his own in the dark.

After a welcome sports massage we made our way over to the pub. We desperately wanted a shower but it was getting late and we needed to eat before the pub stopped serving food. There were two vegetarian options, both pasta (our favourite!) so we opted for the vegetarian lasagne along with a pint of water and a pint of cider. I was delighted that the pub had Aspall cider on tap, I struggled to drink it though as my taste buds were not quite right and the cider tasted strange. Weird things happen to your body it seems when you push it to its limits, despite 9 hours on our feet and burning 4,131 kcal I was really not hungry and struggled to make a dent on the lasagne and mountain of chips. I did my best but for the first time that day I conceded defeat!

FOOOOOD!

We grabbed a quick shower and were in bed by 10 pm. There was still quite a bit of activity around the campsite, we could hear tents being put up presumably by walkers who had only just arrived. In all I got very little sleep that night. I got quite a shock when trying to extend my legs, my knee had locked and both hip flexors seemed to have gone into cramp, I think I realised that getting up at 6 am and getting ready to run was looking unlikely.

We woke from a cold, damp, restless night. I told Paul that I had made my mind up that I was not going to start day 2. My blister was extremely tender and my knee was swollen and feeling sore, I may have made it to the first or second check point (very slowly) but I could not see me reaching the finish. I was feeling content that I had managed 38 miles already, this had far exceeded anything I have done before. Paul was feeling on the whole ok so he decided to at least give it a go.

Saltmarsh 75: Day 2 - Steeple to Salcot-cum-Virley 

Paul lined up at the start line, I was happy that he was giving it a go but felt bad that I'd abandoned him, on the same hand I was relieved that I would not be going through the pain I had experienced on day 1! At 8 am the runners were off. I waited at the pub for a lift from the organisers back to Marsh Farm where I'd pick my car up from. I was not alone, I was joined by 3 other runners who had retired from day 1 so I had company and passed time talking about various marathons and ultra-marathons we'd run.

The ultra marathon man

Eventually we were picked up and taken to Marsh Farm. Unfortunately our camping gear was not going to fit so once I collected my car I had to drive back to Steeple to collect our stuff. I had asked Paul to text me when he got to each check point so I had an idea of where he would be and where to meet him. The first two check points at Maylandsea and Maldon Promenade were a short distance so he passed through these in no time at all. His Mum and Dad would be at Heybridge Basin CP 9 to see him, I was really grateful that they'd come out to support Paul as I knew that this would give him a lift and keep him going.

I was unable to get any reception or 4G on my phone so was navigating purely by guess work but I somehow managed to get the CP 10 at Goldhanger Creek. I parked up and made my way to the sea wall, before I had got to the check point I spotted Paul in the distance walking towards me. He'd just left the check point and was on his way, a minute later and I would have missed him! Paul seemed in reasonably good spirits if feeling a little tired. It was going to be a tough 9.5 miles to the next check point, if it was going to be anything like the Burham-on-Crouch to Bradwell of the previous day then I knew that it was going to be a struggle. Shortly after Paul left I received a phone call from his running coach Lindley. Lindley was out on a recce of the course as much of the route was the same as his Essex Coastal Marathons the following weekend. He hoped to find Paul and run with him for a bit. Lindley had given Paul a pep talk on the phone which was hopefully going to help him mentally take on the next leg of the course.

I arrived at CP 11 in Tollesbury and found a bench in the sun, I was expecting to have a couple of hours to wait before I'd see Paul. Runners started making their way through the check point, I was inspired at how strong some people still looked despite at this stage being 68 miles in! Lindley appeared at the check point, he'd been unable to find Paul and had most likely missed him by a mile or so. I'd not had the opportunity at the previous check point to see any other runners so I did not know where Paul was within the pack. This eased my concerns slightly. Lindley and I had popped into the neighbouring tearooms for coffee and piece of cake, I was just about to pay when I could see Paul emerging from the trail. We ran out without paying! Paul was not in a good way, he was tired and emotional. He said he'd walked most of the 9 miles and he didn't think he could go on. It was difficult seeing him physically and emotionally drained. Determined to be sending him back on his way we refilled his water bottles, stocked him up on snacks and stuffed some malt loaf in his mouth. The check point volunteers were concerned for him and asked whether he was ok to go on, Lindley assured them that Paul was not injured or unwell and we pointed him in the direction of the path and sent him on his way. It felt harsh although necessary, there were only 8 miles remaining. Paul would have later felt disappointed had I let him hear what he wanted and agree that he should retire. Besides this was only the start of his journey as an ultra runner, he'd soon be facing far greater challenges. I was really grateful for Lindley's support and expertise at this difficult stage in the race.

I waited for a short while just to make sure Paul did not reappear at the check point before making my way to the final check point in Salcot-cum-Virley. It was a long and agonising wait, I knew Paul was going to be sometime but I had a rough idea of when I expected to see him. When that time came and went I started to worry. There seemed to be a some activity between the medics and the control centre. My mind was rushing to conclusions, could Paul be out there and in trouble? 1.5 miles into the final 8 the runners were given a choice, take the gate which is a short cut to the finish or make the rest of the way through a nature reserve which was inaccessible to vehicles. Therefore if you didn't think you could make it to the end take the gate and forfeit your medal. Paul couldn't have taken the gate as he would have been at the finish by now.

A runner who we'd spent some time talking to on day 1 had just finished. At CP 11 he had said to me he'd keep an eye out for Paul on the course. He came up to me and said he'd seen Paul and all he could say was "I'm screwed"! This sounds like something Paul would say, I would have been more concerned if he had said he found Paul in a ditch. The afternoon sun was starting to set and the temperature was dropping. I couldn't stand and wait any longer, I needed to get my top from the car. Just as I did I could hear cheering, I ran (as best as I could in flip flops and tired aching legs) to the finish line to see if it was Paul and it was! I was overjoyed to see him walking down the road and smiling. Happy but exhausted he crossed the line in 8 hours and 25 minutes. I could not have been prouder of him, he was officially my hero for seeing it through, I for one know just how difficult it must have been for him.

Paul about to cross the finish line 

Back in the village hall I waited on Paul, the organisers had put on some hot food. I got Paul a jacket potato with baked beans along with a cup of tea and a recovery shake. One thing was certain, I was not able to think about my own aches and pains, it was my duty to ensure that Paul could rest and to get him home. Shortly after Cherie the lady we met on day 1 finished and called out my name. I am so pleased that she had also finished, she has inspired me and made me think I was too hasty on giving up myself. She is one tough cookie!

Paul with his well earned bling (not at all jealous)

We got home and my Mum came over. She had kindly offered to cook us dinner as she knew we'd be incapable of doing anything ourselves (Papa John's pizza was our plan b). She'd made us some proper good home cooked vegetarian food, a 'Dragon Pie', I have no idea how it got it's name, it's what we've always called it! It's essentially a shepherds pie made with aduki beans, lentils and brown rice with a cheesy potato topping. It tasted good and just what we needed after a long weekend. We caught up on the earlier Arsenal match which added to our good mood (we beat Manchester United 3-0) and had an early night.

The route map and Paul's bling and finishers wooly hat!

Monday we were feeling good, well as good as anyone who has spent the weekend on their feet could possibly feel! We had a Nandos lunchtime treat and ate way too much food (no chickens!) before going for a sports massage. I am surprised that I was able to walk, the day after my marathon I was stuck in bed and the only thing that got me up was my hunger and I had to resort to bum shuffling down the stairs! One thing that I had realised is just how much I had enjoyed the weekend and my first taste of ultra-marathons had left me wanting more. I am running another marathon on NYE where I am attempting to actually train beforehand (I kid you not). Then I would like to try a couple of smaller ultra-marathons around 50k before attempting a 100k and hopefully give Saltmarsh 75 another go in 2016. In conclusion, Saltmarsh 75 was an awesome weekend providing a real test for the body and mind. I discovered that my body is much more capable than I realised. I thoroughly enjoyed the adventure, it was so much more than just turning up and running a race. We chatted to some lovely people along the way and felt part of a running family. The Um Bongo vests got A LOT of love out on the course and attracted a number of remarks, I hope they made a few people smile. I've known for some time that I prefer trail over road and I am starting to think that I could be an aspiring ultra-runner - shock!

A huge thank you must go out to Maldon District Council for a fantastically organised event. In addition Rover Rescue, EDMS, Raynet and all of the volunteers for making this happen. The Star Inn in Steeple provided a warm welcome and great hospitality for us tired walkers and runners. One final special mention for the Dengie 100 Runners for their support, water and encouragement on day 1, I'd probably have expired out there on the Dengie without them!

In the famous words of Arnie "I'll be back", see you in 2016 Saltmarshers!