Raidlight Arc of Attrition - Arc50

Arc50 route map

Attrition: 
"The process of reducing something's strength or effectiveness through sustained attack or pressure". 

It was the Raidlight Arc of Attrition (AoA) winter ultra marathon which first drew my attention to MudCrew events. Their 100 mile race following the Cornish South West (SW) Coast Path during winter is infamous for its difficulty. For the past few years I have followed the race from afar watching the event unfold via the internet, admiring those who take on this extreme winter ultra marathon.

I discovered in 2018 that MudCrew also host a series of summer races, The Roseland August Trail (RAT). It was then that I decided to attempt my first ultra marathon, the 32 mile Black RAT. Little did I know at the time that completion of this race meant I met the qualifying criteria for the AoA 50 mile race. I still wasn't ready for the challenge so once again I armchair spectated the 2019 event.

First ultra marathon completed! 

When registration opened for the 2020 event, I briefly considered it but being currently injured I let the race pass me by and it was soon full. One morning whilst procrastinating getting out of bed I was scrolling Facebook and saw on the MudCrew page that a space on the race had become available. I was over come with the fear of missing out and before I knew what I was doing I'd sent a message and said I'd take the place. I instantly felt sick with nerves and almost giddy from what I'd just done!

2019 was pretty much a non event as far as running was concerned. Diagnosed with a torn plantar fascia in August, my rehab with the physio began in September. I was honest from the get go and mentioned that it was my goal to be on the start line of the Arc50, something which he didn't consider impossible. Literally after my first physio appointment, he wanted me to start running but I was still in a fear bubble with my foot. It took a few treatments until I had the courage to try a run and eventually laced up to run the Eden Project parkrun whilst on holiday in Cornwall. I was in no more pain for running and my foot didn't drop off so all was well.

31st October was a date that had been marked in my diary for sometime, this was the AoA deferral deadline, the point of no return. After a chat with my physio and seeking a second opinion the consensus was give it a go. Training started in November giving me 3 months, we started with a monthly plan aiming to get my base mileage up.

Training was very fragmented as we experimented with how my foot reacted. It seemed that the old injury management ultra marathon favourite of breaking the long runs into two separate back to back runs was not going to work this time as running did provoke my symptoms and required a couple of days rest between runs. One breakthrough was the purchase of some new trail shoes as comfort had become an important factor. I had never been much of a fan of Hoka's however learning a little about footwear technology, I knew they were good for shifting load from the foot (albeit to elsewhere) so they had to be worth a try. They felt like an absolute dream on my feet and provided ample cushioning, the good news was that I was almost able to run pain free in them which is something I haven't experienced for many years now.

The months leading up to the Arc seemed to come and go, then before I knew it we were in January. I felt a bit like a student who'd left their revision until the night before the exam as I was trying to cram in some long runs. I managed to complete 10 miles with no ill affect. The following week I increased the distance by 2 km. More or less as soon as I went over the 10 mile marker I felt the familiar pain in my foot. With what limited time there was left, I knew 10 miles was the sweet spot and this was what I had to work with.

Unable to pour all of my focus into the training, I made sure I was well prepared when it came to the mandatory kit. Due to the time of year and how dangerous the coast path can be the kit list seemed rather daunting with items such as a survival bag being a requirement! The previous year the weather had thrown a curve ball right at the last minute with snow disrupting travel plans for those making their way to Cornwall with some spending the night in their cars on the A30. The weather for this years event was looking a lot kinder after a wet, yet mild winter.

Mandatory kit flat lay

With the tables turned, Paul was not running and would be crewing for me over the weekend. We travelled down to Cornwall on the Friday and arrived at the Mount Pleasant Eco Park for evening registration. The organisation was spot on (as to come expected with MudCrew events). First up was kit check, we'd been asked to bring all of our mandatory kit to registration to be checked. We were given a cardboard tray with a photo inlay with images of the items they wanted to check. Once kit check had been passed, I was handed a token which I exchanged for my race number. I stopped for a quick pre-race photo on the Arc50 back drop before we headed to the hotel to organise the crew bag for the morning.

Kit check passed and registered 

We met up with friends Mark and his crew Dan from home. Mark had visited in the summer and had found a local pub which offered a couple of vegan options on their menu. We had a lovely meal and discussed our plans for the following day. Mark and I decided that we would start off the race running together and see how it went. Neither of us were trained but we both had the same attitude that we were there and we may as well have a crack at it and see how for we could go. In the past, this lack of physical preparedness would have unsettled me, however on this occasion I felt at ease and under no pressure.

It was an early alarm call Saturday morning so we could get to the Eco Park for just after 5am to collect our trackers. This was the first time I'd be in a tracked race which was nice as it meant my Mum and Sister could watch my progress from home (although apparently this didn't stop my Mum worrying as she had no idea that I had access to an S.O.S. button had it been needed!). The Eco Park had a real vibe about it and I knew I really wanted to be back there later that evening sat around the fire, cider in hand and with a medal hung around my neck! The safety brief was surprisingly reassuring, pretty much keep the sea on your left, follow the acorn SW Coast Path way markers and beware of the abandoned tin mines! After the safety brief we were loaded onto coaches to make the journey to the start line in Porthcurno, at the Minack Theatre.

The coaches did not take us all the way to the Minack Theatre as the roads were too narrow so we were instead dropped off at the beach car park approximately half a mile away. The leg stretch was welcome after sitting in the warm coach and helped to wake me up, although the steep climb was a reminder of what the rest of the day held in store for us! Even though I was far from ready for this race, I could not pass up the opportunity to take to the stage of the Minack Theatre for the start of the race. As we arrived, the darkness began to lift as the sun rose over the Atlantic Ocean. This had to be one of the most stunning starts to rival any race out there! I decided to decline the offer of a free coffee (for fear of what it may do to my stomach) and instead played toilet relay until we were eventually called down to the stage area.

Sunrise over the Atlantic Ocean

Gathered at the start
(Photo credit: No Limits Photography)

Music had been playing over the PA system to build the mood and there was a real buzz of excitement in the air as we were getting ever closer to the start of the race. A cloaked dummer took to the stage and got the crowds adrenaline pumping. After a brief word from the Race Director Ferg, we were played out to Led Zeppelin's "Kashmir", bright blue flares lined the steps up and out of the Minack Theatre, at the top of the steps I glanced back for one last look through the blue haze at the stunning beauty of the Minack Theatre!

(Photo credit: No Limits Photography)

It was fairly slow going at the start, there were a fair few steps to get up coming out of the Minack. Once we reached the carpark we began to jog although this was short lived, there were 139 runners all trying to progress in single file along the path, having to stop and wait each time we reached a kissing gate or a boulder. In hindsight, I can probably say now that we had positioned ourselves too near the back of the pack.

We agreed not to meet Paul and Dan at the first crew point in Porthgwara as it was only a mile into the race and we couldn't imagine needing anything this early on. As the pack began to spread out, we got the opportunity to run a little more and settled into a comfortable pace. The moments we came to a stop due to a bottle neck on the course gave me the opportunity to look around and fully appreciate the beauty of the landscape around us. We had been so incredibly lucky with the weather, it was a stark contrast to the wet and grey day previously. In addition the weather was unseasonably mild which far from what I had expected in the run up to the race.

We were running a very tight schedule fully aware that we had to reach the first official checkpoint in St Ives by 5pm. The plan was try and move through the first half of the race relatively quickly banking time where we could with the view to slowing down and taking it easier during the night. We agreed that this would mean no stopping to take photos along the route and when we did meet our crew, we had to enforce a F1 style pit stop. Our first scheduled crew meeting point was at Lands End, 5 miles in. It had taken us 1:05hrs to cover those first 5 miles which wasn't too bad considering. I was still carrying enough provisions and only need my water bottles topping up. There was a temptation to stop and get my picture taken by the famous Lands End sign, however when I looked there was someone having their picture taken by the official Lands End photographer and they were not going to stop and wait for a passer by to jump in and have a quick photo (even if I was on a tight schedule). It was the day after we had left the European Union and the person having their picture taken had chosen the letters on the sign to spell "Independence Day" which not only was insulting but confirmed my decision to waste no more time waiting for my photo opportunity. I told Paul to let Mark know that I'd run on and he could catch me up.

Lands End

As we were running out of the meeting point, we were passed by runners in the opposite direction who were participating in the Lands End parkrun. It was humbling to witness words of encouragement being passed both ways between the 5k and 50 mile runners. Coming out of Lands End the path was made up of large slabs of granite, the rainfall of the past few weeks was trickling along the path, I was so relieved it was not cold or icy as it would have turned the path into a downhill ice rink! The next access point where our crew could meet us was only half a mile away in Sennen, a good option had it been difficult to park at Lands End. We instead agreed our next meeting point at Cape Cornwall another 5.5 miles away.

(Photo Credit: No Limits Photography)

During this leg we ran where we could and walked when we had to. With the lack of terrain specific training there was little point in exhausting ourselves running the uphill and reserved our energy knowing that we'd need it for later in the day. I was beginning to feel the elevation in my legs from the climbing and was regretting not picking up my trekking poles. I noticed a slight niggle in my hamstring/glute. It wasn't just hills, there were steps and large rocks to clamber over which made the thighs burn. I managed to bash my knuckle on a rock removing a chunk of skin during a technical climb on a switch back, I jumped from a boulder and my heel landed on a pointy piece of rock on the trail and managed to penetrate through the thick, squidgy sole of my Hoka Speedgoats hitting me right on the tender spot of my heel reminding me I had to be mindful of my injury. I was having to constantly keep my eyes fixed on the trail picking out the clearest and smoothest path through to protect my foot. In general my foot was behaving itself which was a relief, however despite liberally smearing my toes with anti-chafe goo, I was aware of a blister forming on the end of one of my toes. It didn't take long for the magnitude of this run to become apparent, this was the real deal! Never before have I been in a race where every decision was so calculated. It made even the 32 mile RAT which I completed seem 'easy' by comparison.

We reached Cape Cornwall and met with Paul and Dan. I had spent the last 5 miles making a mental list of things I needed when I stopped. I was perhaps a little too focused as I reeled off the list leaving Paul a little overwhelmed (he later said I'd been "difficult", in my defence I was doing exactly what I'd want from a runner I was looking after). I think he thought it'd just be a case of shoving some food in my face and sending me on my way. I sat down on the grass, shoes and socks were off to reapply anti-chafe goo, calf guards on to try and help my screaming legs, plaster for my bleeding finger, (paracetamol I can't even remember what this was for), water bottles refilled, trekking poles in hand and a peanut butter and Marmite sandwich to munch on as we walked out of the check point. This was the longest stop we'd allowed ourselves, I knew sorting things out as they happened would be the key to managing my body and preventing these annoyances becoming show stoppers later on.

Cape Cornwall

I had been reluctant to take my trekking poles, they had been bought purposely for the race but I've read plenty of advice suggesting you need to train using them. Unfortunately I'd not had the opportunity to do this so I was going to have to learn on the fly. I started by using them only on hills and steps, carrying them in my hand whilst running. I soon however managed to find a rhythm and get the technique (don't get me wrong it was probably far from efficient). I wished I'd used them from the start of the race, they were really helping on the climbs and were useful when the step off of rocks was longer than my legs providing me with some stability. The only downside was they gave me golfers/tennis elbow like pain in both arms after a few hours but this perhaps distracted me from other pains.

Part of the coast path seemed to go through Levant Mine which didn't quite seem right but in the absence of any visible way marker we carried on following what appeared to be the paved path enjoying the brief respite from the rugged trail. The next crew access point was Pendeen Watch where there was the first of the safety cut-offs. We needed to reach here by absolutely no later than 1pm. As soon as I met Paul the first thing I asked was how long we had, a 35 minute buffer. We'd made it but perhaps with not quite enough time to be comfortable. This meant we had 4:35hrs to get to St Ives so there was no time for hanging around, it was do-able but the first half marathon took us 3:21hrs so we'd be cutting it fine. I don't think I had fully grasped that this was the last time I'd see Paul until St Ives and we were about to face a half marathon stretch unsupported on what was reportedly on of the most challenging sections of the course. I refilled my two water bottles and headed out eating a bag of Hula Hoops leaving Mark to catch me up.

Pendeen Watch

This part of the trail certainly lived up to its reputation. It was relentless climbing, rock scrambles and the parts which should have been runable were boggy with thick, sticky mud which had already been churned up by 200+ runners. We approached the muddy sections of the path with careful consideration picking our way through to ensure we avoided the deepest parts and keeping our feet as dry as possible, however this was at times impossible with mud fully submerging our foot up to our ankles. As soon as we thought we'd got through the mud, more would appear. The wet weather of the past couple of weeks had turned the path into a stream. I was grateful for my newly purchased gaiters from Gins Running Stitch as they were doing a great job at keeping the worst out of my shoes. One section of the path led us up some boulders which required full on climbing. I was making my way up and starting to question whether we were on the right path, I looked over my shoulder and could see other runners following me. I shouted back that I wasn't sure where this would bring us out but not to blame me, then I got a glimpse of the path so knew we were headed in the right direction. The kilometres seemed to be going exceptionally slowly at this stage and it felt like we'd never get out of the 30's.

Mark had said to me on a couple of occasions that I should go on ahead, however to this point we'd been pretty evenly matched for pace. Mark had a handheld GPS tracker with the check points programmed in, I asked how much further we had to go until St Ives, 9.8km. I looked down at my watch and realised we had just 1:20hrs to get to St Ives. It was time to get my head down and focus on getting us to the next check point by 5pm. There was a slightly technical rock section that required all my concentration to avoid any trips or slips, once I made it through I looked over my shoulder and there was no one behind me. I had to make a difficult decision, did I wait for Mark to catch up and lose precious seconds or minutes or continue on. I decided to continue although it made me uncomfortable that I'd not been able to say farewell and good luck to Mark.

(Photo credit: No Limits Photography)

At this point I was alone, just me against the mud and the ticking clock. It was still doable but I had to really run at every opportunity. I got passed by a couple who I'd seen at various points throughout the day and they were on a mission to beat the cut-off. I tried to keep up with them but they were too fast and soon became dots in the far distance. I was sipping what remained in my water bottles and was starting to feel thirsty, we were required to have the capacity to carry 1.5L of liquids and I regretted not filling my third soft flask at the last crew point. It was at this stage my IT band started troubling me, I'd had no knee pain all day and had RockTape on the right leg where I usually suffer but this time it was my left. My knee had almost completely seized up making every step agonising. It was just as painful to walk as it was run so I just kept putting one foot in front of the other as fast as my aching body would allow. At 38km I clocked at 16:59 minute kilometre, there were points where I felt like I was going backwards! I had more or less not looked at my watch much up until this point. I eventually hit marathon distance, it felt like it was never going to happen and shouted out "about fu*king time!" (yes I am aware that I started talking to myself).

I could see in the distance what I thought was St Ives so I knew I was getting close. I am not quite sure what happened but I tripped whist making my way through a stream/bog and landed with outstretched hands. Fortunately my landing was soft but my hands were now covered in mud up to my wrists and the grips on my poles were completely caked. Ordinarily I would have stopped and cleaned my hands in some water (there was plenty of it around) but time was now of the essence so I thought I'd just clean myself up when I got into St Ives. My original plan had been to get there with plenty of time to have some hot food and change my kit so I was going into the night section with some heavier layers and dry clothes. Instead I was now going through a triage list, I needed to get this IT band seen to, if someone could loosen it and tape it may be I'd have a chance of getting a little further. I'd also get the blister on my toe dressed to prevent it becoming any more painful. Then I'd consider kit, cleaning myself up and some hot food if the 20 minute stopping time allowed. As the weather had been so warm I wasn't quite so concerned for the night section as the forecast only predicted a temperature change of a degree or so and some showers. Coming down a grass hill I slipped and I was now sliding down on my backside, great more mud!

I could finally see some tarmac in the distance. A supporter out on the course gave me some words of encouragement and I asked him how much further I had to go, he reckoned about half a mile. I could still do this, I had 7 minutes left, just keep moving! An ever so slight uphill reminded me of how sore my knee had now become and I was shouting out loud as a way to try and push through (much to the bemused look of those just out for a Saturday afternoon stroll along the coast path) and also trying to give myself words of encouragement like "come on, you can do this". I popped out by the beach, I decided against running along the beach and remained on the tarmac path. It was a Saturday afternoon so there were lots of people out enjoying the fine weather, bars and restaurants of St Ives. Strangers were clapping and telling me well done. I appreciated their support although they did not know how close I was to my race ending.

We spent a day in St Ives in October whilst on holiday and visited the Guildhall so we knew where it was. What I'd not done is walked this route, I thought it would be obvious once I recognised landmarks. I continued in what I thought was the right direction desperately hoping to see something familiar or an Arc Angel to guide me into the check point, however nothing came. I seemed to come to the end of a street and didn't know where to go. Little did I know that I had missed a right turn which would have taken me in the direction of the Guildhall and probably to an Arc Angel to see me in. The only thing I could recognise was the acorn sign on a lamppost pointing in the direction of the coast path, if in doubt keep the sea on your left so off I headed. I seemed to be going away from civilisation and back onto the coast path and felt like I'd missed the Guildhall, I looked down at my watch, the time 5:01pm, it was over, all that hard work and focus of the last hour and a half for what?! Defeated I burst into tears, I reached into my pack to get my phone out to call Paul only it was in a waterproof pouch and it was so bloody fiddly I couldn't open it! Paul didn't answer straight away but called back to ask where I was. All I could tell him was I'd missed the cut off and I was lost. He asked me again where I was and I had no idea, I think I said in St Ives. He asked me to hang up, use Google maps to screen shot my location and send it to him and he'd come and find me. It felt like it took me 5 minutes to figure out how the hell to find maps on my phone and carry out this simple task. I was physically and mentally shattered. I sent him my location and tried to recall my steps whilst continuing to sob.

Covered in mud, sobbing, confused and aimlessly wandering, I was surprised how many people seemed to avoid crossing paths with me or even to ask if I was alright. I managed to collar a couple of dog walkers and asked them if I was anywhere near the Guildhall, they kindly offered to take me that way on their walk but I didn't want to put them out so asked to be pointed in the rough direction. Then Paul appeared offering a hug and reassurance and walked me back to the Guildhall. It was over, I had mixed emotions, disappointed to have given everything and come up short but relieved that it was over and the pain could stop. It felt like a walk of shame coming back into the check point having missed the cut-off, I was hanging my head trying to disguise how upset I was. The Arc Angels were amazing offering me somewhere to sit (they also didn't care about my muddy bottom spoiling the seat) and some hot food and a drink which was welcome. First I had to wash my hands and remove the ingrained mud.

St Ives food choices 

After a cup of coffee I accepted the offer of some food. The Arc Angel who had prepared the food was a vegetarian so vegan friendly options were plentiful. I opted for the chilli with rice and a sprinkling of vegan cheese. This had not been how I'd picture my stop at this check point, prior to the race I had estimated we'd get to St Ives for around 2pm with plenty of time to have some food, a kit change and an 'easy' 21 mile walk/jog to the finish, how naive I had been! Mark appeared about 20 minutes later, I was relieved to see him and glad he was smiling, I'd felt guilty for leaving him earlier. His words when he saw me "you're not meant to be here!", I apologised for not making it. After another coffee, Paul went off to fetch the car and collect me at the door as there was no way I was walking up the hill back to where the car was parked!

We headed back to the hotel and I called my Mum to let her know I was fine as I knew she'd been worried. She was pleased I was out of the race before it was dark, she had images of me being alone and lost in the dark! Once back at the hotel I undressed in the bath not wanting to take the piss by spreading mud all around our room. After a shower to wash off the mud and a bath to soothe the aching muscles it was still early enough to head to the hotel bar and restaurant for a burger and cider. As we walked across to the bar it was dark and was raining, for a moment I was happy to be where I was and not still out on the course. The hotel being about a 10 minute drive from the finish line was popular with other runners, recognisable to each other with our comfortable footwear and clothing and the distinctive post ultra hobble!

I never thought I'd actually complete the full 50 miles, however I was confident I'd make it beyond St Ives. The next cut-off was at 8pm a further 11 miles on, I thought this would be the cut-off which would have pushed me beyond my current capabilities. I have run various sections of the SW Coast Path during the RAT and know the path either side of Newquay fairly well, so thought I had an idea of what to expect from the terrain. Turns out this completely surpassed my perceived difficulty level. The Arc50 really lived up to its name and the experience left me well and truly humbled. Whilst the outcome wasn't what I had hoped for, I was confident that there was little else I could have done to better my chances of having made that cut-off. The only thing which we could have done differently was to not worry so much about getting our feet wet and run straight through the middle of the boggy paths. I left absolutely nothing out on the course and am content I'd given it my all. The whole experience has left me wanting more and I will be back for another shot without hesitation. As brutal as it was, it is an enchanting race and has only made me more curious as to what I could achieve with some training.

A special thank you goes to Paul for always believing in me even when I don't believe in myself and for his support on race day serving all of my requests (even if I was "difficult"). As an ultra runner he can relate to what I went through both physically and mentally and knew exactly what was needed and when. Also a big thank you to the MudCrew family for once again putting on a superb event of the highest standard and the amazing support for the Arc Angels who looked after us from start to finish (wherever that ended up being).