23rd May: Endurancelife Coastal Trail Series - Flete

The Seven P’s of wisdom are a long held belief in certain circles:

‘Perfect Planning & Preparation Prevents Piss-Poor Performance’

Coming in to today’s Endurancelife CTS Flete Marathon I was pretty sure I was lacking on the first 3 which would result in the latter 3!.. Aside from galavanting around my village dressed as an ostrich last weekend, I’ve done pretty much diddly-squat in the way of running since the Pendine ultra a good 7 weeks ago through my trapped nerve, working late and my va-va-voom in general va-vamoosing when it came to going out running or cycling. Nonetheless I braved the traffic (jams on the A303 at almost midnight believe it or not) and traipsed on down to the Flete estate accompanied by Pop Will Eat Itself’s ‘Wise Up Suckers’ for a day spent on the normally closed-to-the-public trails between Mothecombe and Bigbury-on-Sea.

This event runs on the timetable of the tides with the crossing of the estuary a part of all the different courses: the 10k, 1/2 Marathon, full marathon and ultra. To fit in with the way mother nature was running, the start to today’s run was going to be much later than normal with the marathon commencing at 11 in the morning, a time when we are normally about halfway through!

Stupidly when packing I had paid dutiful attention to the area's weather forecast which said a maximum of 13 degrees celsius and overcast throughout the day, so upon awaking by the race-base I found it to be beautiful sunshine with a lovely late spring warmth to the day already and my sunscreen left at home! At least I had my ‘Il Pirata’ hat to cover my thinning barnet and prevent the worst excesses of the sun from affecting me.

With the later start to proceedings today the pressure for time was off, so I was able to grab a snooze in the back of the van after a spot of brekkie whilst I awaited the registration to open and the briefings to be held.

Parked next to me was a people-carrier with a couple of runners who between them must have the highest mileage to get to the start of one of these CTS races: they may have only driven down from London for today’s run, but they hail from California and Sydney!

Being briefed.

We had the briefing under the blue sunlit sky in the field where as part of it we were given the customary kit warning. On the CTS races you are expected to carry certain items with you for ‘in case of emergencies’, essentially to help to safeguard yourself should something unfortunate happen to you. Last year I was pulled for a random inspection upon finishing here, so this year I made doubly sure that I had everything with me, including a jacket - even though it was obvious that it would not be needed today! In the briefing I found today’s course was differing from both previous times I have run it… Like two years ago we would be running the western side of the course before hitting the east, only this time we would be circling the eastern side in an anti-clockwise direction.

Crossing the beach before the hills start in earnest.

All gathered together we were sent on our merry way down the hill a half mile before climbing up on to the coastal path - where the humidity hit me. In no time I was sweating like Michael Jackson on Sesame Street, although as we headed inland it did seem to ease-off a little bit.

The view from the cliff-top path.

On this inland stretch I was caught by Rory Coleman who was pacing one of his client’s around his first marathon, the culmination of one of Rory's bespoke tailored training programmes, so I took the chance to have a chat with him.

Being caught by 'Coach Coleman'.

Rory is one of the premier endurance running coaches in the country (he would probably say the world as well, and there’s no doubt he can claim to be right up there!) when it comes to getting people prepared and through endurance events. This is based largely on his personal experience of having gone from an overweight chain-smoking booze-hound to achieving what most of us mortals would only dream of doing when it comes to running distances and setting records… He knows what works and what doesn’t through his experience and is able to push people to achieve what they want to by knowing truly what is feasible. I thought I would take the advantage of asking him about his experiences and what it was like for one of his most recent challenges: Helping Sir Ranulph Feinnes finish this year’s Marathon des Sables.

Looking back from whence we came.

It was interesting to hear his take on what separates the likes of Ranulph Fiennes and James Cracknell from the rest of us mortals. According to Rory, the difference between them and us is they have no off button. To them there is no such thing as failure; it simply is not an option. In fact, they have wired their brains in a certain way to believe that even death is preferable to failure. As such they have developed a mental ability to go further, push harder, travel beyond what would normally be thought as achievable. The flip-side is that this makes them inherently dangerous to themselves and others in the wrong situation as they will not stop and can lead others astray with them, especially those who are perhaps not as physically able to absorb the punishment that they can take through the years they have put their bodies through the mincer!

Leaving behind Rory and his client I was relieved to hit the first checkpoint as I knew this next part was going to be the easiest part of the course, heading up and round the Erme estuary.

Running on the trail above the estuary, surrounded by bluebells and wild garlic in bloom, with one breath you could really smell the garlic aroma stirred on the gentle breeze and then with the next breath your nostrils were assailed by the stench of rotting seaweed! Having said that, from this elevated position of the run I was able to watch as a pair of Avocets flew past - a bird I have never before seen in the wild.

The mudflats of the estuary below.

Through CP2 and we were running along the other side of the estuary in the cool shade of the woodland path. The race organisers, Endurancelife, encourage us all to pick at least one piece of litter on the run and by the side of the path I saw what I thought was a police hi-viz vest at first glance, but turned out to be one of these fellas! so I appropriated this as my piece.

Out of the cool woodland we were back on to the coastal path, where we were to continue around in the opposite direction to 2013 and do the hard work of the hills first. In the heat of the midday sun my running mojo well and truly deserted me and I found each and every one of these energy sapping climbs a major chore.

Approaching a still distant Bigbury,

On one of the particularly steep ones I decided to stop for a break for a breakfast bar and slurp down a gel. Looking back at where I had come from I was able to watch in amusement as a fellow runner attempted to bum-slide down the particularly steep slope, only to give up and slowly shuffle her way down towards me… Soon I was joined by Viv as she began the ascent of the next hill on which I was resting and from the look on her face she was really suffering. Naturally I offered her a gel to try and help her through this ascent, which she could see was a good idea.. And as Viv joined me in taking a breather here we were caught by another runner, Waldemar.

The tiny spec of red near the top is Viv as she makes her way down the hillside.

As Waldemar approached, through gasps of breath in his strong Polish accent, he laughed at my (‘Eat Pies’) shirt and asked me what ‘pies’ are. I explained to him exactly what a pie is, and he laughed again before replying: ‘In Poland 'pies', pronounced ‘pee-ez’ is dog, your shirt tells me to ‘eat dog’… Are you sponsored by a chinese restaurant?’ and carrying on chucking away he was off.

Soon recovered Viv and myself resumed the advance along the course and she soon left me in her wake over the remaining 3 hills we had left to conquer before the next aid-station at Bigbury. Coming out of the aid station we had a jog across the beach which was fairly packed with holidaymakers enjoying a day in the sun. With our path so close to the water it seemed a good opportunity to cool-off and I knelt in it, planting my hands in to lower the temperature of my blood.

It seemed rude not to take the opportunity to cool-off here!

As I was doing so, Viv passed me, having previously beem overtaken by me going through the the aid station, and we continued together for what turned out to be the rest of the run as moral support.

Heading upwards and inland.

The trail meandered across country lanes, fields and woodland as we headed upwards and inland continuing the loop back to the Erme estuary - bumping into Viv’s husband on the way and very kindly giving me a bottle of wonderfully chilled water and some pain killers to tide me over the last few miles until we reached the river bank and the crossing of the ankle-deep body of water. After a good splash through to the other side, all that remained was the last killer mile and a half of uphill slog to the finish where we crossed the line together.

Viv reluctantly splashing her way across the Erme.

Finishing near the back of the pack, most of the runners had already packed and left as I picked-up my finishers medal and complementary Cliff bar. This year I was not checked for kit, not that it would have mattered with carrying all the requisite items with me, and I was soon able to crash-out in the shade by the van and recover with my scotch eggs and protein shake. Yes I was slightly disappointed with my slow time, although not entirely surprised by it but also relieved to have dragged my arse to the finish line. Note to self: get said arse out and do something in between the races that might constitute some form of training to help prepare yourself for these runs, especially as the 7P’s are known to be true!

Oh well… Hindsight is always 20/20

Eat pies.
Drink beer.
Run far.

25th May: Flete of foot

Today was the 10th and last race in the Endurancelife Coastal Trail Series 13/14 season down on the Flete Estate in south Devon and my 7th appearance in this year's series.

My race here was with one eye on my first ultra in 2 weeks time and I came in to the race having attempted to train as much as I could between my last mara and this one, which included a final run of a 10 miler on the Thursday evening preceding the event with my spaniel Heidi roped to me, the closest to a race that I have been out and done a decent distance.

Having watched the Champions League final where Real gubbed Atletico 4-1 after extra time in the all Madrid final, I drove down to the event base arriving at around 1am due to the game's overrunning, and parked around the corner for my night’s kip.

Awaking early on the Sunday I parked in the event base, a field a little way up the hill from the estuary. I made sure I reversed in towards the perimeter hedge as I had brought a new toy with me to use today: a solar shower. The shower works through heat conduction from the sun through a special membrane in a 20L bag of water, with a hose and a rudimentary shower head on the end of the bag to turn on and off to let the warm water flood out. According to the manufacturer, all you have to do is leave it out in the sun and it will heat to a usable temperature even without strong summer sun, so the plan is to leave it on top of the van whilst I run to warm up over the hours. I have also sorted out a tarpaulin that wraps around the open rear doors of the van with the help of some bungee cords to create a cubicle for a spot of privacy, as the last thing people will want to see after enduring a long exhausting run is my fat hairy arse being lathered up!

This year the course had been reversed from last due to tide times, which meant that rather than running 3/4 of the course before hitting the evil coastal hills between Bigbury and the event base and crossing the estuary before the final mile, you pretty much ran across the water like a herd of Jesus’s at the start before tackling the hills immediately after - far better in my book to get the hardest part out of the way at the start on fresh legs rather than encountering them when near exhaustion at the end!

I had decided to take some new running techniques in to the race and see how they panned-out, mostly making the most of the downhill sections when I can. Being a fat bloke, once the belly gets momentum its great for getting down hills pretty damn quick, so after reading up on descending techniques, it seems you should lean forward and go for it!.. However the inverse is true on the climbs and my belly seems to hold me back as I struggle to ascend with any form of pace or consistency… So I’ve decided to try swinging my arms in time to attempt to gain more momentum and leverage when going up hills.

From the off it was a downward mile to the estuary, where I decided to put the above in to practice and soon I found myself cutting through the field as the estuary was reached and I marched through the knee-deep water towards the head of the field.

Cooling off before we had a chance to get hot!

Over the other side and the climbing to the cliff tops commenced - and people began to file past me putting me back towards where I should be in the pack as we reached the grassy cliff tops and travelled southwards, contending with chest-high thistles and the occasional stile as we admired the views out to the sea from up on high.

Up on to the cliffs.

Heading East.

The mighty thistles!

These rolling cliff-top hills were proving a great place to practice the ascent and descent technique theories and the down hills were going phenomenally well, however I think I over-did it in the intensity as on the uphills my left quad was burning through the lactic acid not dissipating with building through the continual changes in attitude not giving them a chance to recover and I was forced to stop and massage it out as the burn was becoming too uncomfortable.

Looking back over a couple of the hills.

A stop for a good massage seemed to alleviate the problem and I continued on to Bigbury and the descent on to the beach where I caught up with fellow runner Gary from not too far from me in Surrey. He has set himself the challenge of the dozen marathons in a year as I originally did and is mixing road and trails both here and overseas to see more of the UK and the world.

Beach combing.

Crossing the beach I found myself catching and drawing level with James & Dan who were doing this marathon as preparation for the Classic Quarter relay. Previously they have done a few of the CTS half marathons, but this was their first go at the full distance on one of the series, although they have raced the Portsmouth marathon back in December, so we discussed our experiences of that as we climbed off the beach and up the hills for the inland stretch.

Traversing golf course, country lanes and woodlands, after checkpoint 2 the marathon course soon merged with that of the half and the trail began to fill-up with more runners in front of me… The good and the bad of this was at over half distance gone in the marathon, a load of speedier runners are introduced in front of you and your natural instinct is to try and keep up or catch them, even though they are racing on a shorter course and therefore have burnt a lot less energy and naturally will be quicker. That said, I couldn’t help but catch them without seeming to make an increase in my pace and as we went through a lovely section of single-track woodlands as it overlooked the trail as it followed a path up the Erme estuary and I found myself being held-up by them so ended up overtaking as and when the trail allowed so I could keep on at my own pace. I soon found myself caught up with Gary again who had had the same experience, so we ran the next couple of miles over the estuary bridge with its beautiful bouquet of rotting seaweed from the tidal marsh and along to the third checkpoint.

Looking up the Erme.

I dibbed-in at the checkpoint and carried on through without stopping, pulling a cliff bar out of my pack and eating it as I walked along the driveway of the Flete Estate and out by the lodge-house at the entrance… Once out it was a pleasant shaded road with a slight cooling breeze offering a decent respite from the sun.

At this point I found myself on my todd for the first time in the race, not bad considering that it was now around 2/3 the way through, so I thought I’d put some tunes on to while away the next few miles before I caught up with humanity in one form or another.

After a couple of songs I passed the course split where the halfers head back in to the finish and us more hardy of souls head on for the final 10k loop. This split took us up an enclosed path that at some point had been a raging torrent in the recent floods; you had to pick your way through the rocks, pieces of tree and general detritus that had been deposited there by the water as it scoured its way down. The gradient was unforgiving and with the trees closing over head it seemed like an endless tunnel through which to plod… At this point the next song on the iPod began to play and the low-slung baseline of 'I Wanna Be Adored’ by the Stone Roses began to fade in from nothing and fill my ears, and instantly my spirits were lifted.

Picking your way along the path.

Music when you run can have such a huge positive impact on your mood, and can really imprint itself on a visual memory of where you were when listening: I will forever be taken back to running along the cliff path on the 2013 South Devon CTS when I hear the Fat Boy Slim remix of the Beastie Boys ‘Body Movin’ which lifted me then, and when I hear Dido’s ‘White Flag’ I am instantly taken to the bleak cold windiness of running the ridge back from Eastbourne to the finish of the 2013 CTS Sussex in sub zero temperatures… I couldn’t help but sing along to this ‘Roses classic as I ran, safe in the knowledge that there was no-one in earshot of my tone deaf wailings as believe me, I cannot carry a tune in a bucket!

Out at the top of the hill it was a winding way through country lanes and across farmland, crossing stiles and opening and closing plenty of gates - one of which had been re-chained closed by a previous runner and I could not slip it off, spending a few minutes wrestling with it and tearing my hand on some barbed wire before I managed to free the chain to walk through it - hindsight tells me ‘why didn’t you climb the gate you numpty?’ but at that distance, the last thing I wanted to be doing was anything more than necessary to get to the finish.

Once over the farmland with the sun beating down as the afternoon sun was reaching its full power, we found ourselves in a welcomed avenue of a farm track, the trail being one of mud and water under foot… I soon found myself catching up on a handful of runners in front as I took the principal of just ploughing through the mud and puddles in a straight line rather than those in front who danced around from side to side of the track trying to avoid them. The muddy water was a welcome coolant to my overheating feet, thoroughly refreshing them by the time the final checkpoint was reached at the end of the path.

Through this checkpoint and it was back on to the sun drenched farmland and narrow winding country lanes, until all of a sudden we crossed a road, funnelled down a footpath and without warning we were confronted by this:

I see the sea!

Back on to the coastal path!

A few tricky twists and turns traversing the narrowest of paths worn in to the cliff-top, the long grasses obscuring everything and battling our way through chest-high thistles again and we were on to some open pasture and with the bright sun and its heat taking full effect again, the most wonderful of sights in front of me on the path… A full cattle trough.

I poured the fresh cold water over my head, enjoying the instant cooling effect, revelling in the relief… For all of 30 seconds... When the water began to wash the salt from my sweat into my eyes and run off my brow and over the lenses of my sunnies, giving them a smeary outlook that I was unable to do anything about as I had nothing about my person absorbent enough to clean them, so cursing cruel hubris I continued this last 10k stretch with the choice of impaired shaded vision or unimpaired squint-worthy vision through the glare of the sun.

Where does the land end and the sea begin?

Off the pasture and back on to the path, it seemed that this stretch of the coastal path has not seen much use so far this year as the vegetation has not been worn back through a decent trampling. The width of the trail naturally is about that of your foot and with the long grass obscuring your sight of it at times it was difficult to see where you were going to land, and hoped that you would not find a rock or a pit to turn your ankle. Running this required total concentration, so I had no choice but to lift the sunnies for this as the smears were obscuring things just a little too much for safety, and even then I still caught my foot on something and felt myself overbalance. There was to be no stumbling recovery from this so I had to go with gravity and try to make the easiest landing possible, bracing myself for the sting of nettles or pricking of thistles as I dropped my shoulder and went with the motion of the fall, rolling into the undergrowth… Dear god that was lucky, I must have found the only patch on the whole length without vindictive vegetation to arrest my tumble and miraculously unscathed, apart from the small bruise to the ego, I picked myself up and carried on with my trot towards the finish.

Going back in land for the final stage.

As we approached the end of this section of cliff-top path it defended gradually until we encountered some pretty steep steps down onto the beach at Meadowsfoot, the small but sandy - energy sappingly sandy - beach that seemed to drag what remnants of va-va-voom that were still within you and spat it out on to the sun-drenched sand. Mercifully in a short time we were over it and soon back under cover of woodland and wound our way back to the turn for the finish, the last mile on a steady uphill gradient. The closer you got to the finish line, the faint murmur of the PA increased in volume, then people started appearing by the side of the path sheltering in the shade of the avenue’s boughs either waiting for the appearance of their loved one or friend, or just those who had finished their races and encouraging others.

I summoned up what I had within me and jogged the last few hundred metres, turning round the corner and in to the field for the finish… And a kit check.

I knew I had raced a strong race for me, but I was not able to revel in my own personal glory there and then… These events come with a mandatory kit list which you must carry with you - and I was taken aside along with the lady who had just finished in front of me to have our packs checked to ensure we were running in compliance with the race rules. The kit they require you to carry is a good sensible safety measure: medical kit, foil blanked, emergency whistle, food, drink, cash, hat and a windproof jacket.

I always ensure I comply with all the medical and safety kit, as the last thing I want to do is DQ having driven all the way to the event and hauled my sorry arse around the marathon course, but today with it being summer(ish) I did not take a jacket with me as I felt the weather made it unnecessary, but it is on the mandatory kit list and as such I was marked down, but fortunately not DQ’d… This is the first time in 14 of the CTS races that I have had my kit checked, and I have no problem with this as it is important that people do run whilst prepared for the worst, it would just be better all round to do random sampling of entrants before a race and with the shop on-site there is an opportunity for people to purchase anything missing from their list to ensure running with total compliance.

After the baggage check I walked through to be given my print-off of the time, medal, Cliff builders bar, and a hearty congratulations and a handshake from James the race director, as I had managed my second successful 7x challenge in the series, which I felt was a nice touch.

I saw behind at the finish queuing to have his kit examined was Gary so I went over to him and congratulated him on his race, thanking him for the conversation and companionship during the run, which is what these events are about, being able to chat with the like-minded, finding out about their personal journey that has led them to be up stupidly early in the morning and running a marathon across mud in the middle of nowhere!

Breath now caught and my body calming down I staggered over to the van and had my first post-race shower at a CTS event - and refreshing it was too. The water had warmed a little, but not a great deal, but it was good to be able to wash the sweat and grime off you after the race, get changed in to clean clothes and not wander around smelling like something had just died, with a sickly aroma of body spray applied way too liberally in a vain attempt to camouflage it.

I wandered back to the finish line to clap fellow runners home and enjoy my post-race protein shake and scotch eggs. I soon noticed sitting there having not long finished were James & Dan, so went over and had a chat with them and how we were all looking forward to the big one in a few weeks: The Classic Quarter. After a bit of a rest it was time to leave sunny Devon and this season’s Coastal Trail Series behind for home.

It turned out that I finished 37/76 starters - my first time in the top 50% of a marathon field! Naturally I was elated at this, although I reckon I could have gone around 10 mins quicker if not for my dodgy quad but hey, I really can’t complain with the result and time and I’m really looking forward to the forthcoming Classic Quarter although with trepidation seeing as it will be my longest distance covered by nearly 15 miles… Or another 50% extra distance!

For the record, here's the mix of music that shuffled along as I shuffled along:

Polly - Nirvana
Les Filles de Redon - Tri Yann
X-Files - Music Sculptors
Tri Martolod - Tri Yann
I Wanna be Adored - Stone Roses
One Night - Travis
She’s So High - Blur
Nes Sous La Meme Etoile - IAM
Where the Streets Have no Name - U2
World in Motion - New Order
Heaven - Frazier Chorus
Open Heart Surgery - Brian Jonestown Massacre
Winning the War - Carter USM
Are You Out There - Crescendo
Planete Mars - IAM
Wallpaper - My Life Story
Come On - The Verve
I’m Too Sexy - Right Said Fred
Dumbing Down - Chumbawamba
I Will Survive - Diana Ross
The Word Hurricane - Air
Poison - The Prodigy
The Sound of Silence - Simon & Garfunkel
King of the Road - The Proclaimers

26th May: Flete-ing

Following my normal pattern for these events, I arrived at the location for the final round of this season's Endurancelife Coastal Trail Series: Flete in South Devon shortly after midnight and I parked-up around the corner from the event base as its field and the adjacent car park were already locked for the night. I had taken a new airbed along with me so for once I would be able to get a full night's sleep without waking to find the bed had gone flat!

The alarm sounded at 6 for me to find myself surrounded by a beautiful cloudless sky, although there was some frost on the ground in the sheltered part of the event base's field into which I drove after a bit of breakfast and a change into my running gear. Whilst I was one of the first there, others soon followed and I watched as the field began to fill with quite a few camper vans, vans and estate cars as I breakfasted properly. Speaking of filling-up, one of the 4 provided site portaloos packed in. This left the event 25% down on the facilities, which with the nature of long distance running, where everyone seeks to purge themselves as much as possible before the start of the run, the queues were a bit longer than they could have been in an ideal world!

Early arrivals

There was no early start as such for marathoners in this race. With everything being governed by the timings of the tide on the river Erme, they had elected to start the ultras 15 minutes before the marathoners, so pretty much both races were signing in at registration at the same time. After I had negotiated the simple hassle-free process of registering, I noticed my chip was a different number to my race number so naturally I went back and queried if this was supposed to be the case. Fortunately I did this as they had put wrong chip on my wrist and so changed it to avoid me running someone else's race and vice-versa!

With my collection of Endurancelife running tees burgeoning to say the least, at this event we had the choice of a tee, a buff or a race belt. Seeing as I had just bought a race belt at the Hart Sprint Triathlon the other week I went for a buff as I have found them to be very useful in winter and it helps to have a few - so this one goes to join my mementos from the Brutal 10k this November gone and the XT Duathlon from a few years back.

Standing in the field awaiting the briefing and enjoying the warmth of the morning sun I noticed that standing nearby me, also in a world of his own, was Richard Lander-Stow writer of the Bike Run Swim blog, which is well worth reading if you enjoy endurance activities and the man himself is one of those inspirational people who cannot help but make you want to go outdoors and do something physical! I've seen him at a few of the same CTS events so I went over and said hello and we spoke of our experiences in the series and what is up next. He was saying that after doing the running this last year his big one now is preparation for next year's Ironman Wales, which for anyone an endurance race of this distance is a terrific challenge and he will be gearing his training towards this so will not be seen at as many events come the autumn and beyond. I whole-heartedly wish him well with his endeavours... Top fella that he is.

Off for the final briefing of the series, with no warning of hazards, deaths or injuries for once, just a keep your eyes open for the sights, especially the woodlands with their flowers. We were also set a challenge of finding a piece of litter each to bring back with a prize for the 'best' one... Whether or not there will be one is another matter, but hey, anything that will encourage people to clean up the environment gets my vote!

The view in front as we set off.

And the view behind

The race started with a trek out the field and through some woodland paths down to the river which with high tide was at its fullest and at this point a chocolate brown in colour, before we made a right turn on hitting about 20 yards of beachy river bank and heading uphill to the coastal path then round inland to the first water station and checkpoint at 4.9 miles.

Placid seas

Some a-moos-ed bovines, two of which appear to share one head.

A spot of descent.

Sometimes the 'inland' legs of these runs can be a little uninspiring, with a plod along farm tracks with high hedges on either side obscuring any view and field after field which seem to merge into one before we manage to find the coast again.

Inland views.

Down along the river.

This time going inland was certainly a highlight with decent views to be had at almost every turn!.. The inland section was through the Flete estate so was along woodland paths that were surrounded by a carpet of bluebells and some long stemmed pink flowers.

Bluebells

Blooming Ramsons

Also the Ramsons, or wild garlic was in bloom, with the scent of it filling your nostrils, giving the woodland stretches an aroma an Italian restaurant's kitchen, something you either love or hate! The River Erme and the estuary was in view most of the time, snaking in land on the first section, then flowing outwards via some mud flats.

Mudflat.

The checkpoint that divided the in and out sections of this inland stretch was itself under the gaze of Flete House, up high on the steep hill as we were in the valley floor. From here it was across the river, passing by a ruined watermill

The mill that resembled me: ruined.

and more delightful woodland trails, including a fallen tree blocked route which we had to scramble under.

Blockage

On this section I ended up running for a stretch with a Dutchman from the Hague. He had driven all the way here on holiday with his family, with the first day of the holiday being this marathon! Fair play to him, and it seems that the nutter element of these events is not confined to the UK! I told him about my August trip to Iceland where we arrive on the Friday and I run the Reykjavik marathon on the Saturday, and he totally agrees with the sensible way of combining a good run with a holiday.

On the coastal path once more.

As we made our way out to the coast again, a group of 5 of us ended up congregating together and spent a few miles swapping stories and tales of our motivation for doing crazy things. One lady was running her second marathon and she had come from just 5 miles away, another was here with her fiancé who was in the ultra marathon, the other gent in the group beside me was a vegan runner who I have seen at a couple of the other events and had chatted with briefly way back at the Pembrokeshire marathon. He has a mischievous sense of humour and a good collection of jokes, many involving sheep it seems - I hope to bump in to him on future runs as his enthusiasm and sense of humour was certainly uplifting. The last member of our group was one remarkable lady who seems to thrive on endurance events.

The previous weekend she had cycled 130 miles around London over 2 days and had run the Dorset CTS late last year just 6 weeks after breaking a rib tripping over a tree-root in darkening woodland on an endurance walk in Surrey. Distance cycling is mainly her thing at the moment, but with a boyfriend based in Devon she takes any opportunity to get down this way from her base in Surrey. She was remarkable at running up hills. Whilst all of us would pretty much walk them she would merrily skip up them - well jog them anyway, although she was feeling the strain on her body after the previous week's cycle and in the end, as a group we dropped her when she stopped at the top of one hill to empty gravel from her shoes.

Shortly before this happened, the group of 5 of us were running past some houses near Bigbury and the lady owner rushed out of the house with a pitcher of water and cups and insisted we all stop for water - which we gladly did, serenaded by her collie with its head sticking out through the cat flap in the door. With the dog clamouring for attention it was let out and given a good fuss by all of us. A shared moment like this makes you feel wonderful about humanity and the good nature of a lot of people. I never knew who this lady was but thank you, whoever you are!

Like the Northumberland marathon, we had an extended section over the beaches as we approached Bigbury and rounded the headland with Burgh Island on our left.

Beachy running.

 We were running as a group of 4 at that point and it was amusing seeing the looks people were giving us as we jogged in a line abreast across the hard flat sand, picking our way between the sunbathers! Naturally as we got to the steps for the CP at the end of the beach, myself and the other gent in our quartet allowed the ladies to go first!

A couple of miles along the coast and we came across a beast of a hill and I was dropped by all the others - and rightly so. The contours to mark the gradient on the OS map seemed to have it as vertical - and it damned well felt like it! I had to stop 3 times just trying to walk up it. I honestly think it was worse than the hill in South Devon that was making hardened ultra runners weep! With the stopping I was able to sit there and enjoy some of the sun and the stunning view back towards Burgh Island that was in front of me.

The view from on the beast of a hill.

Eventually I summitted it and was able to to resume running, or jogging, or staggering - whatever you feel is the most appropriate term for my running style, towards the finish through a flock of judgemental sheep.

You must be baa-rmy trying to get up here on 2 legs, its hard enough on 4!

Soon I rounded a headland and could see on the other side of the estuary the flags of the event marquee, and I knew that it was only going to be 2-3 miles left till I was finished.

The path worked its way inland and down to the water's edge before we forded the estuary and the final ascent to the finish.

Crossing the line I qualified for the 7x t-shirt that is earned after finishing 7 of the CTS runs in a season. The limited edition black shirt cannot be bought and is only supplied to those that qualify to wear it once they have double checked on everything to make sure only those who truly earn it get it, so I can look forward to it in the post some time in the summer!

My time was a slight disappointment to me, however it turns out that my time goal would have put me 14th in the race so it was neither realistic nor obtainable for me with my level of fitness! I had set this goal based on the 2/5 difficulty factor assigned to the race by Endurancelife. In reality I found this course on a par with South Devon and Exmoor, and certainly harder than the 3/5 North Yorkshire Moors that I had run the other week. Chatting with others at the finish they all seem to be of a similar opinion that it certainly is a lot harder than the 'official' rating, especially when there were a lot there who have run the Exmoor course 6 weeks ago so can compare quite easily.

With the sun still high in the sky and a decent warmth I chilled-out on the grass after changing out of my running gear before making the drive home.

I've thoroughly enjoyed running these 7 CTS marathons and I have already made up my mind to go back for more - my preference is to run those that I have not yet done so as a priority and to revisit some of these 7 to card a second time to establish if I am improving as a cross country marathoner… I may even be tempted to run some of them as ultras to really put myself through the rinser!

Here's a shot of me crossing the estuary waving the piece of litter I picked up - a frayed piece of fisherman's rope, which LSS has pointed out looks like Ken Dodd's tickling stick and thinks I should be off to the jam-butty mines!