11th August: 54321

When I was growing up a 54321 was a wafery chocolatey biscuit, but these days it's also a marathon organised by Salisbury fire station as a charity fund raiser for them and as such it has grown as the years have progressed into a decent-sized event with a variety of distances on offer to run with very good write-ups on Runners World.

Salisbury is only an hour's drive away from the homestead, so a not too early start got me down to Sarum, centre-piece to Thomas Hardy's master-piece 'Jude the Obscure', (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jude_the_Obscure) in good time for the start, although this time I made sure the trainers were the first thing to go in to the van!

The green/ car park with the start/ finish to the right.

Parking on the green outside the fire station with marshals co-ordinating the parking in a well-organised fashion, everyone was gathering for the variety of different distances over which the run is held, with the registration being carried out within the station itself beneath a light drizzling overcast sky. On the way there it had thrown it down with rain, so the hope was for a cool overcast sky for the run, although the forecast was for this at the start and then a roasting-hot mid 20's centigrade midday onwards - so it was a case of wearing the cap for the race and hedging my bets that sunscreen would not be required.

The fire-station hosting the event

This race had a map for the route available for perusal and for people to carry, but I had been advised by those organising and previous runners that it was a well marked-out route, unlike the previous race and there seemed to be plenty of marshals on mountain bikes which seemed like a very good idea for getting out to the various points on the course.

They call it the 54321 because of the features of the route:

5 rivers
4 hills
3 country estates
2 castles
1 cathedral

So in theory they say you can count your way down through the route - although, what counts as a hill to qualify as only being 1 of the 4 is open to interpretation!

My van was parked on the very far edge of the green, so with the changing facilities being limited to pretty much one of the many portaloos I was grateful for the space I had afforded myself with my mobile changing facility! Parked behind me was a battered early 1980's VW camper, which made me kind of envious as I can't wait to get my van fully tricked-out in to one and give myself a bit more luxury for these running trips… Namely a place for cooking a bacon sarnie and a comfortable kip afterwards.

My customary 'milling around at the start' photo.

As the start approached Everyone began to muster by the start line. The timing mechanism for this run was a bit different. I have had ankle bands with dongles, wrist bands with dongles, tape with a chip through laces, but this one was one of the better ideas I have come across: The race number had the chip taped to the back of it, so there was no forgetting or losing it in advance as they gave you the number on the day. I had a chat with a couple of fellow marathoners at the start - both seemed to be a bit nervous about finishing and their times - till I pointed out how slow I normally am and the distinct lack of training I do and their confidence took a leap!

The race started by doing a lap of the green in which the cars were parked and headed off to Old Sarum and the climb to the castle - so one thing ticked off the 54321 list within the first mile or so! With the field being quite bunched at this point and the track being very narrow it was an Indian file walk ascending the hill. As we traipsed upwards we were treated to the spectacle of a plane disgorging its load of sky divers and watch them slowly descend to the earth, which took the mind off the frustratingly slow progress - that and the fact we had to battle our way through some people who decided in their infinite wisdom to descend the path at the same time as several hundred runners were ascending it - you do wonder about some people's common sense!

Indian file up the hill to the castle.

Once up on top it was around the battlements and then down on to the road heading off in to the countryside, with the impression that this is the high point so it's all down-hill from here (yeah right!). The route is essentially a clockwise circuit starting at 12 and, well, you can go figure the rest!

Onto the ramparts.

Skirting the moat.

Out in to the rolling hills and countryside it was, across fields an woodlands, under a viaduct carrying part of Brunel's 'God's Wonderful Railway' with the cloud burning away to reveal the clear skies with rising temperatures into the twenties centigrade.

Underneath the arches.

The detail of the brickwork.

A pleasure I find in these runs through the countryside in new places is you do not know what kind of building you will stumble across next, from ruinous castles to converted station-houses, to this little gem: a wooden swiss-style chalet in the middle of nowhere.

Chalet.

And soon after we rounded a corner onto a track to be confronted by the wonderful sight of Longford Castle.

The approach to Longford Castle

We ran up the driveway to it, with the road straddling the river Avon, to the left the castle

and the right the mill house.

It was a spectacular sight with its ornamental garden that made it seem like a French chateau rather than an English castle (of a Swedish design). As I crossed the river I could see the river was teeming with trout, which shouldn't be too surprising seeing as the river Avon is renowned globally for the quality of its trout fishing.

Coupla fishies!

Jogging past the castle, a couple of South African runners who were equally impressed by the building asked me "what is it?"… I couldn't help myself and said "its a castle", before bursting into laughter and apologising for being flippant!

Leaving it all behind.

Running along the side of some fields I bumped into a gent called Andy who had driven up from Soton to run the race. Andy's a little older than me and has got in to the running malarky with his girlfriend Sunny, who is one of the quicker female marathoners on the XC circuit, and also a personal trainer so is good at keeping him motivated! The two of them race all over the UK and Europe, with these events being a great way to see different parts of the UK (and beyond) up close. Andy is on his way back from injury and has definitely got the marathon bug, with him being in the late teens by numbers. It turned-out that he was in the Fairlands Valley a few weeks before and like me thought it was a bit of a joke; a poorly organised route that was an exercise in compass-less orienteering and guess-work. He has been marathoning for just over a year himself and enjoys the challenge of putting his body through them and meeting a bunch of like-minded masochists. As we jogged and chatted he recommended a book to me: Running Crazy by Helen Summer it features interviews with members of the 100 Marathon club, including a few I've chatted with on the various races and Andy was very taken by it saying it is truly inspirational reading all about those who are truly remarkable in their marathon running endeavours. That blue and yellow jersey and the honour of wearing it is now teasing me having gone into double figures myself! So I've stuck it on my Amazon list as something to buy and hopefully get a read of sometime when I have spare time - if ever! After a while I dropped Andy and carried on ploughing my own furrow through the heat and the farmland.

After one of the aid stations the route afforded the opportunity for some respite from the sun with a run through a thousand year old yew forest. The trees are naturally at their full height with their age, which is not anything near gigantic, but they just expand outwards to a massive girth with many over several hundred years in age. On entering we were told to follow the string and to keep the cord on our left, so we were able to jog through on the marked-path under the low canopy shading us from the oppressive heat in a very pleasant way. It was all very still and the fine carpet on the woodland floor of shed needles muffled our steps, so the whole atmosphere was one of silence, stillness and very other-worldy. It was almost like venturing through something you would expect to see in one of the Lord of the Rings films.

Follow the cord round the seriously old trees.

The dappled sunshine.

Soon enough we were on our way back on the last section of the run, heading on to the roads as we wended our way back into the town centre. These last few miles were getting a bit tough with the sun beating down. As I began to flag I was caught-up by Andy and we resumed our chatting for the next mile or so before I could no longer maintain his pace and had to let him gallop off in to the distance.

My target for the race, as the South Downs before it, was for a sub 5 hour time. The hill after the final water-station there had done-for me then with the heat and the sunshine causing me to feel like I was burning-up and my heartbeat racing out of control necessitating in total stoppage twice to calm and cool down. The final exposed sun-baked tarmac section here as we headed onwards over the streets of the outskirts of Salisbury just sapped my energy from me, causing me to run-walk and realise that my goal would not be achievable, although a pb was still doable, so my goal was re-set for this secondary target… I also decided to let it slip by as with Reykjavik coming-up in a mere 2 weeks time, that race is a nailed-on cert to beat the 5h barrier, so no point in pushing too hard here to narrowly miss it and doing myself a mischief that impedes my performance in a couple of weeks.

Soon the route took us right in to the heart of Salisbury and a run through the grounds and past the cathedral, the owner of the tallest spire in the country.

The 'inspiring' cthedral

Upon passing this wonderful building we were off through the town-centre itself, over the cobbled pedestrianised heart - and being helped by passers-by saying that the sign telling us to turn left at a junction had been tampered with and we were to continue straight on. Around a corner we picked-up the river and followed the path of this until we made it back to the green and the finish-line.

Through the old town

The cobbled high-street

Follow the water back to the finish.

I crossed the line with a new pb for a marathon, although outside the 5 hours, but hey, running a pb is always a great achievement, especially in the sapping heat of the second half of the race… After collecting my medal it was off to the van and a cool-down. I looked at scrambling down the bank of the river to cool-off in there, but the river-bed was just silt, so would not have been pleasant, so using the van as a shade I settled down behind it and opened my scotch-eggs ready for my post-race protein boost. No sooner had I settled down and drunk some water, then the head of a hulking-great husky appeared around the side of the open van door and grabbed my scotch-egg, followed by a second head and some very excited woofing. As it happened I saw the owner of the huskies, of which there were 4, appear beyond the side of the door. He realised what had happened and was very apologetic, disciplining the thieving hound and offering to buy me some more scotch eggs… I told him not to worry as dogs will be dogs - living with 3 myself I know what they are like with food even when it is guarded sometimes! He seemed mortified that the dogs had done this, apologised again, then told them they were going home, and off they went from whence they came.

My drink finished, I went to drive home thinking I would be able to munch on my opened bag of jelly-babies en-route, only to find they had melted into one gelatinous mass whilst I was running… At least this is a problem I won't be having in Iceland!

21st July: Spartan

The Fairlands Valley Challenge is an event held annually by the Fairlands Valley Spartans - possibly one of the coolest names for a running club you'll ever come across. I had planned on running this last year but with the whole Bernard thing it was one of the runs that fell by the way-side.

Unfortunately this 10th marathon is the first that I can say was one I did not enjoy as a running experience... I'll not beat around the bush, but I'll try and be positive as I can!

The day started off inauspiciously... I woke up and left on time, the van was driving fine as I sped along the motorway towards Stevenage. Having just merged on to the M25 from the M3 I had the sudden realisation... My trainers were still in the hallway! A quick glance at the time and to return for them would cost an hour without allowing for any traffic so this was not an option. I was going to have to run the marathon in the footwear I was sporting at the time: walking shoes. Still I've been told of one guy (from a finisher at the South Downs) who runs marathons in flip-flops and board-shorts, so if he can manage that then running in a clumpy pair of stiff walking treads shouldn't be too tricky.

The perfect trainers for a marathon.

After this awesome start, things just seemed to get better from there. Driving round the M25 in the fast lane just before my turning, I overtook an HGV which was in the slow lane. As I pulled level with the trailer, I watched the cab bounce over a piece of paving slab that was lying in the carriageway. As several tons of metal rolled over it at 60mph, the wheel of the cab then shot the piece up and backwards straight towards me. There was nothing I could do. I just sat there carrying on driving as I watched it spin through the air towards me… And straight in to the passenger light cluster of the van. Unsurprisingly there was an almighty bang as the light exploded with the impact spreading glass out in to the slipstream and over the top of the van. Fortunately no lights came on the dashboard warning of imminent breakdown so I continued with the drive to the event base.

Parking up at the school in Stevenage where the run is staged I emerged from the van to inspect the damage. Expecting to see some broken glass I was confronted with the following: Nothingness. Where the light had been there was now a gaping hole with loose cables and bulb holders dangling. Fortunately it seemed the light took all the impact and the fuse box behind it was totally unscathed, as was the radiator just to the left, and the flapping sound I could hear after the impact was just the cables being buffeted in the slipstream.

Something's missing I think.

Just as well I was driving a van as if it was an ordinary car then that paving slab would have gone straight through the windscreen! so on to Ebay it was when I returned to order-up the parts to repair it myself! After all it was only 2 lights so it was a case of just unscrewing what was left of the mountings of the destroyed one and putting the new ones in and attaching the bulb holders. All the same its was another £70 I could have done without spending.

The event base was a brand new school with state-of-the-art everything, far removed from the drafty brick and plasterboard affair that I went to which lost the roof of one of the blocks in a storm, then was partially destroyed by the arson efforts of 'Jude the Dude' as well as one time sitting there watching in the middle of a French exam as the windows began to fall out of the 2nd floor classroom and had to be temporarily tied in place with the cord for the venetian blinds just to prevent a disaster!.. To walk around this building was a pleasure and made you think how fortunate the kids that go there are - not that any of them will be seeing that way as let's face it, school sucks for the vast majority of teenagers no matter how good the facilities are!

Registered and changed I went back to the van which was parked by the start line and read a little as I tucked in to some breakfast granola washed down with an energy drink. I took the time to peruse the route as laid out in the instructions: 4 sides of A4 of poorly explained directions, with a statement that there will be NO marking of the course and NO marshalling of the route so all you had was the text on the paper to decipher and translate in to what you were passing by on foot as you ran along. This was like a very poorly organised exercise in orienteering - at least if you sign up for that then you have a map and a compass and at each indicated mark you get co-ordinates for the next leg!

I sat and watched the start for those doing the ultra course and the marathon hike - they offer all standard distances from the ultra down at this event, plus the choice of hiking them rather than running, all of the routes starting the same way with the runners traipsing off back out the way we drove in.

As the start approached I wandered over to the mark and hovered around with everyone else who gathered in fits and starts. With about 5 minutes to go one of the marshals came over to give us a briefing using the smallest loud-hailer in the world that was completely ineffective even from only about 10 people back!.. The briefing consisted of a very cosy 'as you all know' etc. implying that they expected everyone to have run the race before, and advised those who hadn't to follow someone who knew the way, then he dropped the bomb-shell that the last 10k of the route from the final check-point was all-new so even those who have been along before would not be able to just follow or go on auto-pilot. This was to selective groans from those assembled.

The briefing, with loud-hailer man on the right.

And we were off… Off in to the delights of Stevenage, one of the many faceless satellite London overspill new-towns built around London to cope with the slum clearances after the Second World War when the Luftwaffe destroyed swathes of the residential parts of the east-end of London. I can't really say a great deal seeing as I live just outside one of the other ones in the form of Basingstoke. The housing is interchangeable between all of them, with the town planning being very similar: lots of underpasses and roundabouts.

Out the gate like veritable greyhounds after the hare.

As we headed out of the school the first off-road venture was across the Fairlands Valley Park, the home of the 'Spartans' club that organises the event, and past the large boating lake with its sail boats which is a terrific thing to have in the centre of a town. Soon we were jogging down past the home of Stevenage Borough FC - a club with which my team Farnborough FC has a chequered history through its former owner/ manager and now Stevenage manager: Graham 'Judas' Westley. If anyone wants to know exactly what happened, then message me and I'll fill-you in with my version of what happened from a fan's stand-point but needless to say it involves £500k of missing cash, the first team squad disappearing all a week after having lost 7-1 to Arsenal in the FA Cup!

The less said about this lot the better!

Past the footy ground and through some more rabbit-warren housing estates and after 3 miles we were out of the town and in to the countryside, crossing farmers fields full of this year's late blooming rape-seed that was pretty much at the end of flowering and in to its seeding stage.

Traversing a rapeseed field

The first of the wheat fields.

The route was pretty much a mix of footpaths across fields and country lanes from check-point to checkpoint. On the second leg I engaged in a conversation with a gent called Paul who was in the 100 marathon club, and running in his 196th overall. He was telling me about how his exploits have inspired his girlfriend to start running. So far she has gone distance wise from nothing to completing a marathon length, although she prefers to stick with the half distance and concentrate on improving her times as she feels most comfortable with this distance… Paul also pointed out to me one of the other runners in the field, who I had noticed at the South Downs due to being covered in tattoos, he was on his 912th marathon! Truly dedication on his behalf.

Another wheat field.

Now as we all traipsed through the fields and countryside, this is where it all got a bit ridiculous. Several times I jogged up on people studying their directions at forks in the path or at cross-roads wondering where the correct route was, with everyone who caught-up joining in the conflab until consensus was reached and a way chosen, or someone caught-up who had run it before and said 'this way' as they carried on past. One bunch of people I saw jogging along and joining a 'T' on the route from the right to left as I headed up from the bottom of it turned out had made a half mile detour due to dodgy directions before they realised their mistake - so a mile of distance, valuable minutes and energy was expended by them all.

Ohh, another wheat field.

Soon enough it was my turn to have my moment of map misfortune as myself, and 2 people that followed me missed a turn off of a path through some woods that cost us a mile to realise the error and tack-round to re-join the correct course which narked me somewhat. The whole experience of stopping to read the directions every couple of hundred yards at times in forest sections was a real irritant and a hindrance to making a good time in the race. To make things better at one point we were told to run along a road and go through a 'gap in the hedge', all well and good until you find the wrong gap, or just run on past because after years of growth the 'gap' was now too obscured… There were also erroneous directions as well. It seemed they had cut and pasted from the previous year but neglected to check for changes out on the route, so when a sign post indicating a right turn was mentioned, in reality it was not there!.. Now it doesn't take much to double check the route and in the process to tie a bit of tape to foliage where turns are, but something as basic as this seems to have escaped the organisers!

The instructions... P1

Pages 2&3

Page 4... All the worse for wear after running with it in my sweaty hand!

It was on the last leg in to the final checkpoint that in traversing a section of scrubland, I saw this empty snail shell on the ground. It was mahoosive for a British snail, a good 50% bigger than the normal ones you get in the garden, so I took a photo with the gel wrapper next to it to give a sense of scale.

The trail...

With the mahoosive snail!

After the last checkpoint there didn't seem to be too much point in busting to get back to the finish. I knew I was not going to post a decent time through losing the minutes to the mile detour and with the continual stopping to check directions. The sun was now out in full and at its fiery best in the mid 20's rather than the overcast skies we had had till now. To be honest, I was so disheartened with all that had gone before and combining this with the fact that I was running in walking shoes (which were not giving me any trouble at all for chaffing, so at least that was a positive), I had given-up on the race as a challenge for a good time by about mile 18.

A church we passed en-route

And its graveyard

With mature yew tree.

...And for variety, yet another wheat field!

This last section was the 'new' bit, so no-one had a Scooby-Doo about where they were supposed to be going other than from the crib sheets in our hands, so it was a bit of an exercise in the blind leading the blind with people trying to interpret the directions in the hope of making it back.

A rapeseed field, just for some variety!

Eventually I arrived on the outskirts of Stevenage and traipsing through the housing estates once more I was soon at the playing fields of the school where the post-race party was already in full swing. Grumpily I sat down, not bothering to indulge in anything from the runner's barbie. After munching on some jelly-babies I availed myself of the excellent facilities in having a shower - a rarity at these events, so at least I was fresh enough to meet-up for a pizza with my friend Claire, who lives in Stevenage, without smelling like a tramp!

The run may have been unenjoyable to say the least (although not uneventful!) and essentially a glorified club-run but at least I got a chance to meet and play with the infamous Oscar, Claire's dog-share cocker-poo, who is lovely :)

Oscar :)

I will certainly not be going back to repeat this race and I would warn anyone considering it about what they are letting themselves in for… It is a poorly laid-out club run, not a slick well-organised event like most marathons are, although the facilities were excellent.

9th June: South Downs

Today saw the closest of the marathons to where I live: The South Downs. The race takes place in the national park (from which the race takes its name) in the manner of a point to point. You arrive at the finish in Queen Elizabeth Country Park and are bussed to the start at Slindon College and you run 'home'.

My neighbour Pini was running in the race as well, so I offered to give him a lift down with me in my van, which I finally have back from the garage (2 months after it went in) as it turns out I'd been sold a lemon :( The van affords decent comfort and space in the cabin for the journey and the plan for it is to be self-converted into a camper for use on the weekend marathons and summer camping expeditions. I'm still to get beyond the planning stage through not being able to get my hands on it, but as it stands can be used as a changing room on wheels!

Driving back from the garage on the Friday night I returned to the village too late for the petrol stations to be open. With the warning light on for the fuel lit for an empty tank and the dial being firmly on zero I knew it would be an early start to Saturday with a dash to the nearest 24hr garage to put some juice in the lemon.

We needed to be parked at Queen Elizabeth Country Park a few miles north of Portsmouth and on one of the event coaches to Slindon College before 8am, so to be able to be organised and get there in time I set the alarm for 5am.

Springing in to action I jumped in the van, with my bike in the back and an empty 5L fuel can in case of running-out en-route. The nearest 24 hour garage is about 6 miles off, so I figured that in a worst case scenario I would have enough time to cycle to get 5L of fuel, cycle back, pour it in and drive to get more, drive home and still have time to leave for the race at the decided hour of 6:30.

Fortunately I made it to the garage without incident, put the fuel in and drove-off after paying… Looking down at the fuel gauge it still had the light on and was reading absolute zero… So off to the garage it will have to go for more repairs which will have meant that I would have spent as much on repairs as I did buying it!

Pini knocked on my door at 6:30 and we clambered in and drove off on the uneventful 30 mile journey to the finish line and a half mile walk to a waiting bus and embarcation for the half hour journey.

Upon arrival we walked into Slindon college and milled around with everyone else awaiting the start. Under the sun it was quite pleasant but there was quite a chilly wind blowing across the site which made it uncomfortable.

The college building.

Fortunately we noticed there was a step wall down to another tier of the grounds looking towards the start which formed an excellent wind-block, so we hopped over this and sheltered whilst we awaited the start.

Looking back over the wall.

Whilst queuing for the toilets I noticed Jagjit, the guy who was parked next to me at the CTS Flete race and finished just after me in the race, so I went over and had a chat with him and wished him all the best… It turns out he's entered the 54321 and the Fairlands Valley Challenge as well, although since booking he's off to India for the month of August so will have to bail from the 54321.

I had a good chat with a couple of other runners, one of whom was one of the many 100 marathon club members who were running the race. They were all sporting their blue and yellow tops and seemed to know each other very well as a consequence of just being around the same events as each other so often.

The relay marathon about to start.

After watching the start of the relay it was time for us all to work our way down to the start and commence our race. It was a massed start and wishing Pini the best I watched him scamper off into the distance.

Pini all smiles ready for the get-go.

All geared-up for the long-haul.

The start was once around the 400m track, then up the hill passing the school and out the front gate, along the road and on to the country paths working our way on to the South Downs Way. For the first couple of miles I was chatting with one gent who was wearing his son's Royal Marines tech tee that he had just worn the previous week in the regimental field-gun race. He was rightly very proud of his son's achievement as that race requires a squad of men dismantling a Victorian artillery piece, carrying it over an assault course, reassembling it and firing it to stop the clock!

Farm track running.

On to the Downs and we were out from any woodland shelter and exposed to the heat of the cloudless sky. After taking a tumble over one of the stones sticking out of the chalky path and barking my elbow drawing blood, topping the hill I made it to CP1 without incident and took the hairpin left on to the next section, running along the ridge of the Downs. The views up here were quite beautiful: rolling hills and fields stretching out for miles on both sides, although with the sun beating down it was quite oppressive due to the trail itself. Underfoot it is the chalk rock of the Downs, so the sun just reflects off it quite spectacularly leading to plenty of glare and thankfulness for wearing sunnies.

The long glaring chalk path.

The run to the second checkpoint included a long fast descent over a metalled road to a farm. This was an easy stretch to run, although you could see the mahoosive hill that awaited us on the other side of the checkpoint at the end of this descent. At this point I caught up with a guy who was wearing the same camel bak as me and on his first marathon. and an XC one at that. He had set himself a pace target for 5 hours and was looking good for it. He had his wife and kids waiting for him at the finish line so he knew he had a motivation to finish… The look of pride on his children's faces as they watched their dad cross the finish line and become a marathoner.

Great views as you run the ridge.

Viewing for miles off into the distance.

Between the second and third checkpoints there was one stretch that lead through some woodlands before dog-legging up on to a field that we ran up to and around the edge of. Just as I approached this I could see one of the 100 marathon club runners carry straight on instead of turning up hill and on to the field. About half a mile later the same runner appeared from the right out of the woods and in to the field having missed out all the gradient of the climb on to the field and the uneven run across it. He then proceeded to cut the corner of the field rather than do the 2 sides of a triangle from the point that he joined it. It made me wonder that whilst he may have started and finished more than 100 marathons to wear the club jersey, how many of them have been finished 'short' of the official distance?.. At the end of the day you're only cheating yourself in matters like this as you have not run the true distance.

The final ridge run looking down on the village of Buriton.

More ridge running followed until we reached the final checkpoint. Mentally I had set myself a time of sub 5 hours to improve on my pb and prove to myself that I really could get in under that marker on a marathon. At this point I was still on track to hit this after a lot of hard running. At the final checkpoint took on some water and attempted to run up the steep hill in front of me, and that's where the wheels fell off. The sun was beating down with no shelter. I could feel my heart beating like it wanted to explode out of my chest, and no amount of water over my head was seeming to cool my temperature… I had to slowly walk-stop-walk to the summit as I could feel all my banked time evaporating before me. Eventually there was some shade after the summit and I could resume running again, but I soon found I was spent when I encountered the next hill and all hope of busting the 5 hours flew away… Resetting my goal to one of just finishing as soon as I could as there was only 5 miles left, I reconciled it with myself that I run this distance for fun with no problems so finishing is a given, the trick is just to get to the finish line.

Slowly but surely, feeling every one of the short, sharp hills that made the rest of the route I managed to drag my sorry arse to the finish line. Eventually I found myself by the cafe where we had embarked on the buses earlier so the end was only a mile off back where the van was parked.

After a detour around some hedges I found myself in the field with the finish a couple of hundred metres in front of me so I mustered all I could to get to the finish line. Crossing I gratefully accepted the finishers goody-bag and the event tee, grabbed a bottle of water and collapsed in the shade in the empty half of the baggage gazebo.

Taking off my trainers, socks and ankle protectors to cool down I lay back to cool, drinking the water. A couple of minutes later I spotted Pini wandering along so called out to him. Beaming from ear to ear he came and joined me along with his partner Vics who had very kindly obtained for me a printout of my time.

A beaming Pini.

The reason for Pini's smiles were his amazing time for the race. He had finished 8th in his age group and 20th overall - a fantastic performance. Just as well I had given him the van keys, as I knew he would finish well before me, so he could chill-out and change in the back. He had torn-up the course in 3:25:02 putting my paltry time of nearly 2 hours longer into a kind of perspective!.. Although I did have the solace of knowing I have set a new pb for the distance. Sub 5 hours will have to wait for the next race (or the one after, or the one after that depending on how crap I am!) onwards and upwards and all that.