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).

MudCrew: Red R.A.T. (20 miles) and injury update

I didn't need to give entry to the 2019 MudCrew RAT a second thought, the moment registration opened in January I reserved my space on the Black RAT (32 miles). It'd be fair to say that the event was the highlight of my running calendar last year. Unfortunately not a lot of running has happened for me this year. I picked up a couple of injuries at the beginning of the year and persistent heel pain has put a stop to any running. As a result I have registered a fair few DNS (Did Not Start) at races this year. Endure 24 was the only race I have actually completed and this was more out of not wanting to let team mates down than any readiness to run. I managed to squeeze out 4 laps (20 miles) for the team over the course of the weekend, it wasn't comfortable but I survived and most importantly my heel pain didn't worsen. With the RAT deferral deadline a month before the event I was faced with a difficult choice, do I defer my entry to 2020 or drop down to a shorter distance. I would be travelling anyway as Paul was running the Black RAT and we'd managed to rope in a few friends to join us. To run 32 miles with no training would be just silly so I decided instead to drop down in distance. The 11 mile White RAT was full so the Red 20 mile option was my only choice...

The weather forecast in the week leading up to the race was looking a bit spicy with several severe weather warnings being issued for Devon and Cornwall. Boardmasters music festival in Newquay was cancelled a few hours before it was due to open with concerns over safety in the high winds. In the days leading up to the race I became obsessed with checking the weather forecast, although it became evident it was changing on almost an hourly basis. Shortly after the Boardmasters announcement, MudCrew posted on their social media that the race would still be going ahead. The weather would certainly make the race more challenging than it already was but for me this added to the excitement.

With the weather very much on our minds, we managed to book a last minute camping pod which had become available. This came as a relief as the thought of camping was not appealing since last year our tent leaked in the heavy rain! I had planned to take the opportunity of being in Cornwall to squeeze in a surf on the Friday morning, however the impending storm made the conditions less than favourable and I am not a fan of windy surf conditions so decided leave the board at home and focus on the run instead, lets face it I could probably do with conserving every drop of energy I have. A decision had been made to delay the opening of the race village and campsite from 5pm to 7pm to avoid the worst of the wind and rain, I was grateful not to be pitching a tent in this weather and being able to climb into a proper bed with warmth and shelter. We were going to be in for a wild night.

The MudCrew RAT offers various distances of 64 miles (Plague), 32 miles (Black), 20 miles (Red), 11 miles (white) and new for this year Bring Out Your Dead (BOYD). The BOYD runners somewhat drew the short straw as their race started at 8pm and would be running for 24 hours. Being MudCrew this wasn't your conventional 24 hour race, it covered the final 5 miles of the course which are arguably the hardest with approximately 500 steps and 350m elevation, runners were only allowed to stop for a maximum of 20 minutes, if your tracker doesn't move for 20 minutes you're disqualified, absolutely no outside support is allowed and runners are only allowed access to what they put in their box at the 'sanctuary', a small cordoned off area at race HQ. There was me thinking that the Plague was bonkers. We watched the start of the BOYD before registering and having our mandatory kit checked.

The entertainment that evening came from elite runner Damian Hall. Damian came 5th at last years UTMB (Ultra Tour du Mont Blanc) and holds the fastest known time for covering the entire 630 mile South West Coast Path. We watched a couple of short films documenting these two races before a Q&A session. It was a lovely addition to the evening and it was inspirational listening to one of the top names in GB ultra running.

GB ultrarunner Damian Hall

Last year I heard the start of the Plague from inside my tent and it sounded rather dramatic so we made plans to go and watch the start of the race a midnight. The sound of beating drums, fire hoop dancing, flares and the howling winds added to the feeling of anticipation and excitement as the Plague runners gathered ready for their midnight start. I have massive respect for these guys who would be running out 32 miles to the turn around at St Antony's Head before coming back to Porthpean. Knowing how treacherous the terrain can be, I could only imagine how difficult it must be to head out in the dark in challenging weather conditions.

I retired to the camping pod hoping that I'd be tired enough to get some sleep, however turns out my brain had other ideas (not to mention 3/5 sharing the pod that snore). The alarm was set early as the guys running the Black RAT would be off a couple of hours ahead of the Red RAT runners. Much to my relief the weather was currently dry and just a little windy, a vast change to the forecast earlier in the week which suggested we'd have non stop rain all weekend. After seeing off Paul, Mark and Ian who were running the Black RAT, I had plenty of time for some kit faffing and a second breakfast.

L to R: Ian, Mark (aka Sparkles) and Paul

I would be running with a friend Damo. After waiting for what felt like a lifetime it was finally time for the Red RAT briefing before we were loaded onto the coaches and heading for the start in Portloe. The temperature in the coach provided the perfect snoozing conditions, warm and sheltered from the wind and without the sound of snoring, it was very tempting to catch 40 winks on the way but didn't really want to wake up feeling groggy before the race. I strategically got on one of the coaches that I knew was leaving first as to get ahead in the port-a-loo queue when we arrived. After some rather tight and winding roads (I wouldn't make the cut as a coach driver in Cornwall) we arrived at Portloe. Moments after we stepped off the coach the rain started! It was quite heavy and persistent for a good 20 minutes, it did however give my new OMM Kamleika rain jacket a test. It seems that rain rolls off the jacket pretty effectively as I discovered when I bent over to pull down my and shorts for a wee, the rain that had collected rolled straight off into my knickers and shorts - noted for future! We were told by Ferg the Race Director that we will hopefully be starting early once everyone had come back from the port-a-loo's. This was welcome news as the standing around was only adding to my anticipation and I was desperate to get going.

The start was at the bottom of a hill (of course it was!), as instructed, knowing I wanted to start off slowly I positioned myself down almost on the waters edge on the boat slip way at the back of the pack. Damo and I had agreed to start off running together with the understanding that if our paces differed we'd part our separate ways, for me my only objective was to get to the finish line, I was not at all interested in the time so long as it was under the cut off. Although rain and strong winds were foretasted throughout the day, the air temperature was warm so I decided to pack my jacket away before we started.

The start was pretty slow as once we joined the SW coast path the track narrowed. We were walking for at least the first kilometer whilst stepping aside for Plague and Black RAT runners to pass. This was no problem as it allowed my legs to get going and settle into things, they had after all not seen many hills let alone any running for several months. The coast path presents many dangers, sticky out rocks, tree roots and stumps, holes, low branches to name a few, add the weather to the mix we were going to need to have our wits about as as Damo soon discovered! Shortly after his brief introduction into trail running, we agreed it may be best for me to lead the way and point out potential hazards. After a short while we settled into a rhythm; walk the ups, run the downs and flats. The focus was always to get to the next check point.

After almost an hour and a half on our feet we reached the first checkpoint at Caerhays 4 miles in. Having lost his footing earlier on, I recommended that Damo made the most of the event medical support and to get his ankle looked at and strapped, there was still several hours between us and the finish. With my stomach telling me it was lunchtime, I made the most of the checkpoint food dining on some salted pretzels, crisps and watermelon washed down with some coke. It's funny that I never drink coke normally but during a long run it's just the thing you fancy! At this checkpoint I bumped into couple who were also Vegan Runners and assisted them with some label reading on crisp packets. In fairness to MudCrew they put on a decent selection of vegan friendly checkpoint foods. Sufficiently refuelled and refreshed we left the check point before we got too comfortable.

On a couple of exposed sections the winds were gusting quite strong, the forecast suggested over 50mph at times. I had to hold onto my hat at points and on one occasion I could feel the wind forcefully pushing me off course. I am grateful for the fact that the wind direction was onshore blowing us inland. For the more technical sections I kept my left arm out stretched incase I did get buffeted by the wind and knocked over! This stretch was probably my favourite part of the course with some stunning views and runnable sections. However, the steps also started to appear more frequently! The earlier showers had cleared and we were treated to sunny intervals and glimpses of blue sky.

Another 5 miles on and approximately 3 hours on the clock we reached the next checkpoint at Gorran Haven. Set in a village hall, I made the most of the facilities, needing a wee was a good sign as I was doing well to keep myself hydrated. The checkpoint was blaring out techno music to keep the energy levels high, I think I may have lingered a little too long having made numerous visits to the watermelon, coke and pretzels, taking a hint from one of the checkpoint staff we set off again knowing there was just one more checkpoint until the finish.

I had been keeping an eye on my watch and I could finally announce that we'd passed 10 miles and we'd now be counting down the miles to the finish. I was hoping psychologically this would be as much of a relief to Damo as it was to me. We soon arrived in fishing village of Mevagissy. Last year the harbour was overrun with holidaymakers making for lots of crowd weaving and dodging. I am guessing that the weather had put people off as it seemed a lot quieter for peak holiday season, although we still got the odd word of encouragement from passers by. The section through Mevagissy takes you away from the coast path temporarily onto tarmac, the benefit of which was you could take in some of the views without worrying about where you were placing your feet!

Now back on the coast path we were 15 miles in which meant we had just 5 more miles to go, although I knew what would be waiting for us during those final miles. We'd been on our feet now for almost 5 hours. My memory got a little sketchy at this point, I think I had blanked a lot of this last section from my memory from the year before! I just knew that when we get to the checkpoint at Pentewan there were ice poles and we were on the return leg! Once arriving in Pentewan it felt like the check point was much further away than I recalled which was annoying. Once there I went in hunt of the famous ice poles only to discover that they were not yet frozen and just cold liquid. For some reason drinking ghastly coloured, sugary water full of E numbers was far less appealing than being frozen so I declined. It didn't bother me too much as it wasn't a blazing hot day. At the check point I bumped into a few familiar faces and probably spent a little too much time standing around chatting and procrastinating.

Damo and I walked out the checkpoint prepared as we could be for the final stretch. On our walk out of the village we bumped into a lady walking her dog with the cat following behind - not something you see everyday! We rejoined the coast path and I made the same mistake as last year misjudging the location of the infamous steps, I was almost certain that the bastard steps we'd just climbed were 'the' steps, however there were a lot of steps in this final section of the race and it was easy to get confused.

The ladies at 'Cocktail Corner' were a welcome sight, I had drunk most of my water and was down to the dregs of Tailwind in the other bottle. Much of this section had been through tree covered path and with the temperatures deceptively warm I was a lot thirstier than expected. A cocktail of isotonic drink and fruit juice hit the spot. I jokingly asked if the cocktails were alcoholic only to be told that they were not, however if I wanted some alcohol she could open a bottle of prosecco from the boot of the car! As tempting as that was I declined as there would have been the temptation to linger and stay longer than planned. Revitalised and spirits lifted we headed out to take on the final section of the course knowing that a cold cider awaited us at the finish.

Eventually we reached those bastard steps, turns out they were twice a long as the ones I'd earlier mistaken them for! They felt like they went on forever, the steps down were of varying height, some required a sideways crab walk as they were too steep for short legs. On a plus side, I didn't seem to be suffering with knee pain and stiffness bought on by iliotibial band syndrome which I had so badly suffered with during the race last year. I had consciously made an effort to incorporate more glute strengthening work this year although I had been a bit lazy lately so I suspect it may have had something to do with the fact that I was running 20 miles and not 32. Relived to know that we had got the steps out the way we managed to jog a few sections knowing we must have been close now.

On a downhill through a field I annoyingly stepped in a hole in the grass and rolled my right ankle. I felt a burning sensation and the joint almost spring back then nothing, I must have got away with it which was a bit of luck! The finish to this years course had changed, I spotted Ferg who was stood at a gate with a marshal and we were diverted into a field heading towards the finish. I could hear the finish but with no visual it made it really difficult to know just how much further there was to go and I was too tired to do the maths looking at my watch. I had been keeping in touch with Paul to let him know our whereabouts so he could be at the finish line when we came in. I then finally spotted the shower blocks at the back of the campsite so knew we were a matter of meters now from the finish. We jogged it all the way in to the finish line and were greeting by Paul cheering us in.

I was relieved to have finished. Relieved that I managed to do it despite having not trained, relieved that my foot didn't feel any more painful than when I started and relieved that we didn't kill Damo! For his first coastal and trail run (not to mention the 1500m elevation) and to run the furthest he'd been before was nothing short of admirable. All of it was done with a smile (could have been a grimace of pain) and without a single complaint! We certainly has cause for celebration tonight. With our finishers medals given to us by the lovely Jane (Race Director) they proudly hung from our necks as we took to the photo backdrop for our moment of glory.

Last year I left the after party early as I was pretty beat from running 32 miles, this year I was hoping I'd feel fresher and be able to join in the celebrations for longer. Showered and refuelled on pizza we hit the bar for a pint of my favourite cider, Cornish Rattler. It was going down rather smoothly, luckily I only had enough cash on me to drink a sensible amount which was probably just as well. I shocked myself that I was still mobile enough to have a good dance! What I love about events like this is the shared experiences, we were catching up with people we'd met on the run and congratulating one another and speaking to complete strangers and sharing our tales of the day. I had hoped for an extended party, however come 11pm the music went off and the party was disbanded. Just as well probably as I knew the 300 mile journey home would not be fun with a hangover!


This event has certainly got my heart, I love everything about it! I would say that I will be back next year and part of me wants to say I will be running the Plague (100K) as some sort of injury comeback, however we'll see where I'm at in the New Year when entries open (I'm not running the Plague).

Injury update: 

Two days before I ran the RAT, I had an MRI scan on my heel pain which is the injury that has kept me out since I ran the marathon on New Years Day. The scan date had come through sooner than anticipated which was good but it was also annoying that I was getting a snap shot in time of my foot now, 2 days before putting it to its biggest test and to also still not know what was wrong with it as I wouldn't get the results for another 2 weeks. The good thing is, my foot felt no worse for what it had gone though in the race, I half expected that I wasn't going to be able to walk for a couple of days. People kept on asking me what I thought was wrong and if I'm honest I really didn't know, it had been treated for the symptoms it shared with several injuries such as plantar fasciitis, insertional achilles tendinopathy, heel pad entrapment and a trapped nerve none of which had any affect on the symptoms, it was still painful and I was still unable to run.

The scan results were not as I had hoped and did provide explanation for the constant pain. A tear of the plantar fascia with the message that surgery wasn't an option, nor was another cortisone injection and no more running. I was in shock as I came away with many unanswered questions. I was referred for physiotherapy with the suggestion that we try shockwave therapy and dry needling, exactly the treatment I'd already had earlier in the year to no effect, I have to admit I wasn't feeling particularly  optimistic and may have leaked a couple of tears on the drive home.

However, in these situations you can choose how you react, sure I was disappointed and wondering what life without running would look like but I still consider myself lucky that there's lots of things I enjoy and that I was just going to have to adapt and get on with things. Already, I have stopped all running, you're not going to catch me doing even 100m at CrossFit until I have been given the nod, I'm scaling any workouts that involve impact (skipping, box jumps, burpees etc) and have stopped yoga for the time being. I'm cycling where I can to get in some extra calorie burn and have bought an assault bike and some kettlebells for some home HIIT workouts. Physio starts in a week so I will hang on their every word and do as I'm told in the hope that I will be back running soon. For now involvement with them MudCrew Arc 50 in February is clouded with uncertainty but until I've spent some time rehabbing (now I know the injury) I am not ready to make that call. I still hope to be on that start line in February...

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!