The Raidlight Arc 50 2022

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

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

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

Pre-race

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

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

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

Coast path 1 - Emily 0

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

Race day

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

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

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

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

With Lindley waiting for the race to start

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

Flying feet!

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

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

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

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

Battling the hills and steps into Cape Cornwall

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

Cape Cornwall
(photo from a previous course recce)

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

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

Tactical running pole usage

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Path from Carbis Bay
(photo from previous course recce)

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

Race snacks and supplies

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I finished in 15 hours and 11 minutes.

Happy to finally have a finishers medal around my neck

Post race

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

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

My awesome Mum supplied the post race Bolli 

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

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

Project Lockdown 3.0

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

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

Steady progression over 12 months

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

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

Dunes of Doom

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

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

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

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

My own personal aid station

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

Ready to brave the cold

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

Ice - a common theme throughout

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

Frozen trails

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

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

Ice skating or trail running?

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

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

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

Impressive ice formations

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

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

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

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

   

 

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).