MudCrew Black R.A.T

Despite having once run 38 miles in one day (Saltmarsh 75), I've never really considered myself an ultra runner. I didn't start day 2 of Saltmarsh so didn't complete the race and didn't receive a medal, therefore I don't feel like this really counts on my running CV. I was also hideously under trained, injured and struggled from 13 miles onwards, I was naive to think I could run 75 miles, let alone just about drag myself around 38.

Wanting redemption, I decided last year I wanted another crack at running an ultra marathon but to do it properly, e.g. actually train and try and enjoy the process. I have long had a love affair with the coast and in particular Cornwall. We visit at least once a year and will often scan for events which are on in the area. This led me to become aware of MudCrew who organise the brutal Arc of Attrition. Having some sense I knew that a 100 mile coastal ultra in winter probably wasn't the place to make my ultra debut! However, I spotted the Roseland August Trail (RAT) series of runs. With distances ranging from 11 to 64 miles it seemed a good place to start. I suggested to Paul that I would like to sign up for it and would he also be interested in running, he assumed I meant I'd like to run the 11 or 20 mile distance. He was a little shocked when I said I'd already signed us both up to the 32 mile (the black RAT) distance! 

Whilst I signed up for the race on a bit of a whim (I panicked when I saw that the race was filling up), I had at least allowed myself a decent run up to actually plan and do some training. Well aware that I still carry the same injuries as I did 3 years ago when I last tried to crack the ultra distance, managing my training load was going to be vital if I was going to succeed. I browsed the web for training plans but most seemed to require 5-6 runs per week which seemed excessive on top of other cross training I do. Paul who now has several years experience running ultra's (ranging from 30-145 miles) and has been the recipient of coaching himself had a pretty decent idea of what training I'd need to do (as well as my fragility) so put together an alternative training plan purposely designed to avoid overloading.  

My training started in May, shortly after the Hapalua half marathon which provided me with a decent base of running fitness to start off from. I was well aware that it wasn't just distance that would challenge me, with over 2000m of elevation along some unforgiving coastal terrain, I was going to have to factor in some hill training into my plan. This was going to be a challenge since I live in a pretty flat part of Essex, popular local spots for hill training include a bypass bridge and a man made 14m hill in the local country park! Fortunately my summer plans included a few opportunities for hill conditioning with running 30k at Box Hill as part of the Salomon Trail Running Festival and walking trips to Snowdon and tapering in Chamonix the week before the race.

Training went pretty well, I only missed a couple of sessions and most importantly I didn't suffer any new injuries or worsening of existing ones. I still couldn't help but doubt whether I'd done enough to get around, the longer runs towards the end of my plan took some effort and made me wonder how on earth I'd crank out double the distance on race day, however 'coach' Paul assured me that I would be fine. With it being an unusually warm summer I was just about acclimatised to running in the heat, however I wasn't sure about running an ultra in the heat! Fortunately the week before the race the weather took a bit of a turn and finally rain was falling from the sky and the temperatures eased off. This was a relief although it led to new doubts, I had bought the On Cloudventure trail shoes specifically for the race (they provided enough comfort/cushioning to not cause my plantar fasciitis to flare up) and had done most of my training in them but in dry, dusty conditions. I'm not sure that they had been in the wet once so had no idea whether they'd stick on a muddy, rocky coastal path! I reminded myself that On originate from Switzerland where they have mountains so they will of course be fine!

Friday morning we made the 300 mile journey south west to Porthpean. It was a pretty long journey made worse by sat nav deciding we'd take A roads from the M4 onwards (there was an incident/delays on the M5). Much to my relief we were at the campsite ready for opening and were able to pitch the tent in the daylight and before any sign of the forecasted rain. The campsite was right on the coast at the Porthpean outdoor centre overlooking the sea. We'd not bothered packing anything to cook and were relying solely on the campsite food vendors. Much to my delight there was a good selection from stalls offering burgers, Thai, pizza and coffees - each vendor provided a vegetarian and vegan option (big thumbs up for the use of biodegradable packaging and cutlery) - kudos to MudCrew who know their clientele! I didn't take long to decide that pizza would be the pre-race food of choice - pizza is my favourite! In addition to the food stalls, the race village also offered a stall selling race kit, physio services, MudCrew merchandise, bar and shower/toilet facilities. It was compact set up but in a way perfect as it meant nothing was too far from the tent - something that would be very important come Saturday night!

Campsite overlooking the sea

We registered early, collected our race packs and purchased a reusable plastic MudCrew RAT pint glass. Not only did we get to take a memento of the event home with us, we could also feel smug about all the single use plastic cups we'd be saving whilst having a few celebratory ciders Saturday night. My next focus was to get my kit laid out and bag packed for the morning as it would be an early start. I secured Maurice the Mammut to my race vest. He was my lucky trail charm I had picked up in Chamonix, hoping some of the alpine spirit would rub off and power me up the coastal hills. With food, registration and kit checks taken care of, I caught up with Paul Coker (Move Cornwall Physiotherapy) who was providing free taping and injury advice to runners. Paul had taught me on the RockTape FMT 2 course the previous year. With a queue of runners forming Paul asked if I would like to jump in and assist with some taping. Most of the runners I taped were setting off on the Plague that evening, I was glad for the distraction as it diverted my mind from fretting about what I was doing myself the following day!

Helping out Move Cornwall Physiotherapy (photo credit: Paul Coker)

I turned in around 10 pm optimistically thinking I'd get some sleep, I couldn't have been more wrong! As total noobs to this race we'd positioned our tent near the start/finish line and the toilet/shower blocks, seemed like a sound strategic decision at the time. With the Plague (64 mile) runners setting off at midnight there was a constant buzz of activity within earshot. I should have dug out the ear plugs but didn't want to leave the warmth of my sleeping bag. I was just about drifting off when I heard the beating of drums and the call of "bring out your dead!", the Plague runners were getting ready for the off. It was quite rousing and made me almost wish that I was also running the Plague! I then lay pretty much awake until 5 am when we got up.

The three muskateers 

Almost on cue it started to spit with rain as we were eating our porridge, great it looked like it was going to be a wet race, thank goodness we had half decent waterproof jackets! We headed over to the race briefing at 6:40 am, at this point sh*t really was starting to get real! Much to my relief there wasn't much navigation, just the simple enough instructions of keeping the sea on your right. Even in my sleep deprived state I could manage that. We were loaded onto coaches to make the hour long journey to the start at St Anthony's Head. Random fact: St Anthony's Head lighthouse was used as a location for filming the children's TV series Fraggle Rock! Throughout the journey I tried to doze off and distract myself from how far it was we were travelling and trying to imagine myself running it.

Last picture together before setting off

Once at the start there wasn't too much hanging around fortunately, after queuing for the porta-loo's we had a chance for a few photographs and then we were off! I knew I wouldn't see Paul again now until the finish, this was something we'd already agreed on. I was running with a friend, Mark (aka Sparkles). We set off together with the view to running our own race when we found our natural rhythms. I made the decision very early on that I was not going to run the hills and conserve my energy, running only on the flat and downhill, it was after all going to be a long day and I wanted to leave something in the tank for later on in the race. The jacket and warm top I put on earlier needed to come off within the first few miles, I was soon starting to feel like I was trapped in a greenhouse. It was 4 miles to the first check point at Porthscatho over some very runable ground. Feeling good we grabbed a flat coke and refilled our water bottles, the next CP was not for another 12 miles.

Mizzly but beautiful SW coast path

Early steps (photo credit: Sparkles)

During the next 12 miles there was a noticeable change in mood. The terrain began to get more challenging and the elevation started to really bite. Then Mark asked me to not let him DNF at the next check point. I initially thought he was joking but having only just reached 10 miles I think the realisation of the task in hand had sunk in. I realised that we'd not eaten and had been going for almost 2 hours, I enforced a walk break to take on some food in the hope it would raise both blood sugar and our spirits. It's not really one of those races you can compare to anything else you've done, however by the time we'd reached half marathon distance we'd being going for 3:21 - the only goal I had was to get the race done but I knew it was going to be a long day on the trail, nutrition and hydration were going to be crucial to our success.

The rocks which look like a rat

After almost gate crashing a wedding marque (I thought it was a fancy check point) we made it to Carhays. More flat coke and an opportunity to graze on some check point food. Whilst refuelling I had a little stretch out, my knee was starting to feel cranky, the downhills were beginning to hurt and I recognised the onset of IT band syndrome. I should have got it taped by the onsite therapist but heard the CP would be closing in 35 minutes and panicked. To me this sounded a lot like we were chasing cut off times so decided we should hang around no longer and make a move. I asked for directions out of the checkpoint and was pointed to a gate in the corner of the field. There was a massive puddle filling the area around the gate. The sensible thing would have been to either climb over the gate or walk a few extra yards to the gate we'd entered the field from, instead not wanting to walk out in the opposite direction only to come back on myself I thought I would stand in the puddle to see how deep it was. BIG mistake, my feet whilst already damp were now fully submerged in water, my shoe was heavy and squelching, blisters now seemed inevitable!

Locals

We'd officially covered half of the distance in 4:14! Once you have reached the halfway point in any run I feel a lot more positive, you can start counting down the miles and it truly felt like we were on the home stretch. Over the next 5 miles my knee moaned on every downhill whilst Mark started to struggle going uphill due to cramping. We'd hit a patch of the course with a decent chunk of ascent. We had quite a few stops to try and get the cramps under control, breaking out some salt and vinegar Hula Hoops which were a treat for the taste buds after eating mostly sweet foods. Whilst walking we overheard another runner say that the next CP at Gorran Haven closes at 1:45 pm, I checked my watch and the time read 2:09 pm! Cue panic and confusion, surely the CP wouldn't close until the tail runner had been through and I don't recall being passed by the tail!!! Luckily Mark had printed some handy laminated reference cards with the CP times and we could relax as it closed at 3:45 pm! 

Looking back at where we ran from

Just before Gorran Haven I decided it was time for Mark and I to part company, I was slowing him on the downhills with my knee and he was struggling on the uphill. I needed to get moving as I could feel various parts of my body beginning to seize. At the CP I headed straight to the physio, I needed to get some tape on my knee. After some poking and questioning the physio disagreed with my diagnosis of IT band syndrome and seemed intent that I had damaged my meniscus. Despite my reassurances he reluctantly taped my knee to provide me with a 'distraction'. Mark had come into the CP, we said goodbye and officially parted ways until the finish. Mark was in a much better place and whilst he was hurting (as were we all by this stage) he seemed confident which made me feel a lot happier to go off alone.

(photo credit: Sparkles)

Whilst grateful for the company of Sparkles in the initial stages, it was quite nice to be on my own. I was able to take some time to reflect on the race so far and knew that my only focus was getting myself to the finish line. This was until I entered a field of bulls all alone! A bull was stood close to the gate, I tentatively entered hoping that the bull would take little notice of me whilst thinking "friends not food", he looked up at me from what he was chewing and let out a disgruntled huff and carried on chewing. I took this as a sign that I was allowed to continue and made a swift passage across the field. Unfortunately, the tape which had been applied to my knee was already coming unstuck on the sides (possibly applied too tightly), my knee also seemed to be hurting more, not less. So much for the 'distraction' as I was now doubting my own injury knowledge and wondering if the physio's diagnosis was correct. I decided to remove the tape as it seemed to be not helping at all. In fairness I should have probably asked to apply the tape myself!

Approaching the fishing village of Mevagissey were a series of confusing switch backs which led to a long set of stairs. Luckily there was a handrail which enabled me to hold my body weight and skip down several steps at a time lessening the strain on my knee. Most people seemed aware that there was an event taking place and gave words of encouragement as you passed, this was such a lift at this stage in the race. Once down by the harbour it was very crowded and people seemed far less aware that there was a race taking place. I weaved through the crowds and narrowly avoided taking out children and dogs in my path, my ability to swerve at this stage was limited! Once the harbour had been negotiated I spotted a collection of hi-vis vests which indicted the route, these marshals were armed with some food so I grabbed a handful of cheesy Wotsits and salty popcorn (Wotsits tasted amazing, I may have to pack a bag for future races). Sticking to the plan I walked the hill, it then became unclear which way the path went to rejoin the coast path. Not wanting bonus miles I asked some passer-bys whether there had been runners on the path that they had come from which confirmed I was headed in the right direction.

Cornish 'flat'

I quite enjoyed the next section, I passed the time chatting to a couple of runners in the Plague. I was totally in awe of those donning the green vest, these guys had been out on the course for 15+ hours and were still willing to hold a conversation. One thing that was noticeable was the mutual respect between all runners regardless of whether you were running the 64/32/20/11 mile option. I reached Pentewan at 27 miles in, the final CP and was handed an ice lolly by a marshal. I had heard a lot about the final 5 miles of the course and heeded the advice I had been given. I was expecting a lot of hills/steps so headed to the physio couch. A very helpful massage therapist did her best to loosen of my ITB digging her elbow into my quads and hip. It certainly provided some immediate relief and made me feel a little better that my initial gut feeling had been right. Not wanting to hang around too long I got my bottles refilled and grabbed a handful of food. Walking out the CP it started to rain once more so I stopped again to pull on my waterproof for what felt like the 10th time that day!

Almost immediately after turning the corner from the main road we were climbing uphill again. This was to be the theme now until we reached the end. My watch battery warning flashed up indicating that my battery was down to 5% remaining. Despite having turned off all of the smart features on my watch, it as looking doubtful it'd last the duration. With every set of steps I thought they must have been the steps that everyone had spoken about, that was until the next set of steps seemed worse! My knee was really starting to protest especially as the steps became longer and higher, I was reduced to walking down sideways like a crab. The Plague runners I was with also felt my pain so were in no hurry to pass taking the pressure off me.

Steps!!! (photo credit: Sparkles)

Knowing I must be getting close to the finish, I started to look for landmarks or visible signs of the campsite. At one stage I was sure I could hear the music but the horizon gave nothing away. Those final 5 miles seemed to be taking an age. I had hoped to get in under 9 hours but this was slipping away (not that time mattered as I had just wanted to simply finish however I'd got competitive with myself). Finally we reached the point that we turned off the coast path. Some lovely marshals greeted us at the end of the path, dressed brightly in fancy dress (this was a bit of a blur they may have been fairies but equally could have been mermaids!) and offered me a 'cocktail', I have no idea what it was but it was sweet and refreshing. Knowing I was heading away from the sea I knew the end must be close now! This gave me hope (as did my desire to reach the finish before my watch battery died), the final uphill push I powered up actually jogging for a change. A marshal did ask me if I was OK, I must have looked like some crazed lady by this point! A strong finish is often something I am often quite good at and having been out for over 9 hours was not going to stop me.

Finally I recognised I was in the grounds of the campsite as cheers erupted from the crowds as did the sound of cowbells ringing! I was elated, I had made it, time to empty the tank and give it my all as I triumphantly powered through to the finish line crossing in a time of 9:17 hours. I did not spot Paul (turns out he missed my finish as he'd popped into the tent). I received my medal, at which point Paul had found me and gave me a hug and a kiss. I looked down at my watch which was surprisingly still alive as it read 49.8 km, what?! I am not going to end my first ultra on 49.8 km!!! I handed Paul my medal and continued running, past the water station and the bar until I reached 50 km.

The look of triumph and relief

I had honestly expected to be an emotional wreck at the finish, in fact I was quite the opposite! I was not expecting to be as coherent, let a lone capable! Paul kindly offered to get me a celebratory cider, however, with my sensible head on I insisted on first showering and getting some warm, dry clothes on before beginning the celebrations. Around an hour later Mark crossed the line and the celebrations could truly begin.

Proud owner of a Black RAT finisher medal

Still raining outside, we headed to the bar which was fortunately undercover. I think it's the only time I've gone to a bar for celebratory drinks wearing joggers and flip flops, however anything goes after an ultra! I indulged in a couple of pints of my favourite cider, Cornish Rattler which tasted particularly awesome. The post race refuel took the form of a bean and lentil chilli heaped over some tortilla chips. With the party mood in full swing I just about managed to dance from my chair, I certainly wasn't going to be cutting any shapes since I was moving like an extra from the Walking Dead (stupid knee). Not long after 10 pm I decided to call it a night and turn in for some much needed sleep leaving the party to continue until the small hours of the morning (Sparkles can vouch for this). Turns out the floor is surprisingly comfortable after an ultra marathon, I managed to sleep until the tent started leaking water early morning!

My favourite cider couldn't have tasted sweeter!

Conclusion:

What a race! In hindsight I could have chosen something a little less challenging for my first ultra. The RAT had over 2000m elevation, this was like climbing Snowdon (from sea level) twice! Considering the elevation worried me more than the distance, I am rather proud of what I achieved. I was also concerned that this experience could potentially tarnish the way I look at Cornwall, however although tough I literally loved every second of it! I've run parts of the SW coast path so possibly had a good idea of what to expect as well as a strong feeling of connection with Cornwall. I thoroughly enjoyed the experience and I can say that MudCrew put on an awesome event, I will be back in 2019 without hesitation!

After the event, I physically felt like I was back to normal after a couple of days, not something I was expecting. I have hurt more after some half marathons. I suppose although I ran further, the effort was probably not as intense as running shorter distances. I am really impressed with the resilience of my body, I had long resided myself to the fact I'd probably only ever be a half marathoner as things tended to go wrong for me any time I ran over that distance. It just goes to show that with consistent, sensible training (thanks Paul), anything can be achieved. I intend now to take a bit of rest to let the body and niggles recover but I am already planning to run another ultra soon!