25th January: LSS Starts

With all of this running lunacy over the last couple of years, LSS has become a bit of a running widdow at times when I have disappeared off to all corners of the British Isles for the occasional day here and there… She has also seen the benefits that running stupid distances has brought to me fitness wise and with the exception of that niggling calf injury I have been entirely injury free from running 35 marathons!

When I first started on this odyssey LSS stated that the words ‘fun’ and ‘run’ are not 2 words that go together and she was firmly convinced and she would never be seen dead spatulated into lycra.

Now a couple of years down the line, just before the Christmas period LSS came out with the earth-shattering revelation she had realised that as time marches on, her long-standing ability to eat cheese, chocolate and enjoy drinking wine without consequence to her frame has begun to lessen and she now needed to find a way to keep the pounds at bay having not exercised since giving up horse riding in her late teens.

Combining the need to walk our dogs on a daily basis with exercise, LSS has decided that she will run as a canicrosser, as that way she has a companion with her, it burns-off some of our dog’s energy and it gives her a reason to be out and running… As a means to following-through on this plan she has even booked herself in to March’s CTS Sussex 10k, as with a commitment in the diary she cannot back-out!

I am in awe at her decision to go for it, as to do something so out of anyone’s comfort-zone is incredibly courageous and I have been supporting her on her first steps along the way, especially as her body (mostly her knees, shins, ankles) adjusts to running for the first time since school with all the aches and pains you endure in the process.

As part of being the supportive husband, I suggested we go down to Birling Gap and walk the 10k course with the dogs so when the big day arrives then there will be no surprises or fears of the unknown for her, so she can just concentrate on getting herself across the finish line.

This morning we took ourselves down there and had a good morning’s walk with the hounds over the running route and took in the sights above and below the Beachy Head cliff face.

Gazing over at Beachy Head

Below the cliffs you run on top of at Birling Gap.

Looking west over the 'Seven Sisters'

As we trundled along the beach, the erosion of the chalk and the flint stones revealed this to us, I think it looks like a cartoon skull smiling out at you!

Eat pies.
Drink beer.
Run far.

24th January: Training

In keeping with my resolution I have been getting out as often as possible between races to put quality miles in, something that my finish at Anglesey has also mentally encouraged me to do… I have now seen a direct result from all the hard work I put in over the Christmas period in regaining - and perhaps exceeding the fitness I had lost to the lurgy late-on last year. What’s more, I have really enjoyed getting out there and doing training.

I said ‘quality miles’ as I am wary of the theory of training just being ‘junk miles’ in other words, just going out for the sake of doing so with no real plan or goals, so you just churn out X number of miles and are done with it.

One of my goals has been to increase my pace over the shorter distances when I go out (10k) with a view to it improving my overall pace on longer runs and give me an extra gear to step in to on my marathons should I feel I need to.

To help achieve this, when it has come to running around the block on my normal 10k route I have been accompanied by Spud, our Springer Spaniel/ Border Collie cross (Sprollie?) who in his desire to run, and run as fast as he can, is akin to strapping a turbo charger to you... He has helped me to cut 7 minutes off my previous best time for the run as he makes you go as fast as you are able the whole way round, certainly faster than you thought you were capable of pacing yourself, so as far as speed-work goes, Spud certainly beats fartleks as rather than upping tempo between every second lamp-post or what have you, you go at that speed the whole time.

Running with Spud is also beneficial for him as it burns-off some energy by doing something he loves - and energy is something he has in abundance! The aim is for him to be able to accompany me on the occasional marathon, and so far he can easily cope with 10k’s and manages half marathon distance with me no problem.

I have also been keeping to my long run at least once a week regime, which is all well and good until you tread in a puddle that turns out to be a pot-hole that trips you up and you end up looking like this:

Eat pies.
Drink beer.
Run far.

18th January: Anglesey

Anglesey is one of those places that is a pain in the arse to get to… From my gaff you drive all the way on the motorway to the junction for Chester in about 3 hours, then you’ve got a similar time to head west over North Wales pretty much until you fall off the far north west corner of the known land into what would say on an ‘olde worlde’ map: “here be monsters” with an image of a kraken cavorting in the sea… The reason for this 6 hour drive is the latest leg of the Endurancelife Coastal Trail Series: a jaunt around the farthest north westerly part of Anglesey; the farthest north westerly part of Wales. With these CTS races there are 4 distances on the day’s menu: 10k, half marathon, marathon and ultra… Naturally I’m taking the marathon option as per normal.

After around 6 hours of driving I parked-up close by the event base and slept for the rest of the night. The parking in Breakwater Country Park car park was not available to us this year, so I was stopped in an area as close to the registration tent as I could.

Last year once here, the rain started and did not stop… Well it did stop eventually, that eventually being 4 hours in to the marathon the following morning. As stunning as the scenery was and the location beautiful, as a consequence the run was a bit of a miserable experience at times: akin to running through an ankle deep puddle for 27 miles whilst being rained on for those first 4 hours!

Waking up the next morning the conditions could not be more different than last year, yes it was chilly, but it was looking like it was going to be mostly bright with sunshine and a light covering of cloud.

After some granola and coffee, I was on the way in to register when I bumped in to a familiar face, calling me out from the gloom of the dawn in an easily recognisable American twang: Theresa from October’s Glencoe marathon. She was running in the ultra, her first Endurancelife event and was looking forward to seeing part of Britain she had not yet seen whilst she is over this side of the pond.

Walking back to the van after registering I could tell that the weather should be fine rain-wise, but there was a bit of a chill wind blowing, which turned my mind to a bit of a problem…

As I drove up the previous night, upon passing Brum (a good 2 hours in to my journey) I had a nagging feeling at the back of my mind: I was not sure I had packed my running jacket: my protection from wind and showers. I distinctly remember putting my charged and synced iPod in the chest pocket, gloves in the side pockets and a buff in the map pocket. I distinctly remember putting the jacket on the back of a dining room chair... What I did not distinctly remember was picking it up and putting it in the van... And upon checking when I arrived, it was nowhere to be seen.

Fortunately I keep an old snowboarding jacket in the van, one with a detachable inner jacket, so I decided to improvise. You have to have a jacket for these Coastal Trail Series races as a compulsory kit item, so my only choice was to detach the inner and wear this… It may not be much use in a downpour, but it at least had a hood, would afford a barrier against the wind, plus fastening using poppers it meant it would be good at letting the heat out.

Don't we all look thrilled to be here at stupid o'clock on a cold winter's morn!

I lined-up with everyone else ready for our getaway, and in no time we were all galloping down the former railway line towards the seashore and the first of the day’s two climbs up Holyhead Mountain.

Onto the shore.

Only one way from sea-level: upwards.

With less than a month since the winter solstice, the sun was struggling its way upwards towards its low maximum and was beginning to give a little warmth through the patchy cloud, although not enough to take your mind away from the stiff chilly breeze from the sea which seemed to increase in its feistiness as we climbed further up the side of Holyhead Mountain.

Onwards and upwards.

Successfully over the top and on the way down we rounded South Stack and the lovely lonely lighthouse perched on the promontory of rock before breezing through CP1 and descending over some grassy heathland which was mercifully nowhere near as waterlogged as last year. That said, my trainers were almost sucked from my feet a couple of times by mud, so I made the decision to avoid any more occurrences of this by stopping to re-lace them and ensure they were as tight as can be.

Looking back at Holyhead from the mountain.

The first sight of South Stack lighthouse.

Passing the lighthouse.

Leaving the lighthouse.

Whilst sitting on the grass undertaking this it seemed most of the field had passed me. I had estimated my position going over the mountain at about half way through the field and with the steady stream of people passing by over the 5 minutes I must have taken, I figured my new position to be around 3/4 or lower… Which is more reflective of a normal finish for me!

A bit of trailporn.

I now had an incentive now to try and reel-in some of those who had passed me, so I set-about doing so without over-cooking myself. Before stopping I had been running at a speed a bit faster than most of them by the nature of being in front of them, so continuing at my previous pace I bade my time as I steadily caught up a handful of them, yo-yoing with some runners and gliding past others; although by being at a different speed to those around me I could see this run developing into quite a lonely race and with my iPod sitting a good few hundred miles away it was to be just my own thoughts for company… Anyway, with the constant roar of the gusty wind in my ears I probably would not have heard a great deal even if I did have my iPod on!

Run to the sun.

In to CP2 and the following tarmac stretch through the village of Trearddur then it was back on to the coastal path, undulating our way to the caravan park and the start of the southerly loop on the course. CP3 was pretty much at the most southerly point and at a notional 15 miles, once through this you know for sure that every step is now counting down to the finish.

A couple of the many coves we passed.

Last year due to the tide times and the surge being experienced from the recent storms the trek across the beach was a thigh-high wade bracing ourselves against the sea-wall to keep balanced, so I was prepared for more of the same… As we approached, from a mile away on the cliff-top path, looking down I could see the beach where CP3 is situated - and by the fact I could see there was a beach I knew it would be different this time around!

A bit of an easier route this time round!

Dropping down on to the beach the tide was a good 100m or so away from us rather than lapping around our midriffs, so it was an easy trot along the rocks and sand to ‘dib-in’ before crossing to the other side of the beach and climbing up on to the inland section of the course.

Crossing the beach.

This inland trail saw an extended section through what looked like a nature reserve, jogging along over the duck-boards that formed the walk-way, crossing styles and fences with the occasional squelch through ankle-deep mud. It was trotting through here that I was passed in the opposite direction by some of the other marathoners who were running the course with their dogs, which surprised me no end! They must have taken a wrong turn at the start of the loop  just before CP3 to end-up running this section in reverse!

Heading inland.

As I finished the loop and rejoined the out-and-back section I was not passing anyone still doing the outward leg, so I figured that the last person was at worst an hour behind me, so it was safe to say I was towards the back of the field.

Getting in to Trearddur again at last I was catching-up with a fellow runner, whose football allegiance was easy to ascertain by the Rangers scarf around his neck - I joked with him about being a ‘Hun’, which threw him a bit in being labelled thus outside of Scotland - so I told him how I follow St. Johnstone through the family tie to the city of Perth and had once been to Ibrox, the home of Rangers in the heart of Govan, to see St. Johnstone take on Rangers in the Scottish Cup.

At this point we picked-up another runner in Dewi and the three of us continued along until Dewi and myself forged ahead.

Dewi was pretty-much running on home-ground coming from just along the north welsh coast in Colwyn Bay. We passed the next couple of miles to the checkpoint chatting a bit about his local club which are in the Conference North, the same level as my team of Farnborough (Conference South) with Colwyn Bay recently being in the news through the resignation of their manager - former Premier League player and Jamaican international Frank Sinclair due to a financial crisis at the club with the loss of their main backers.

Passing through CP2 again for the final stretch of the run inland and our second ascent of Holyhead Mountain, we noticed how we had jumped about 10 places through not stopping longer than necessary at the CP and from the steady pace we had been making over the last couple of miles; clocking-in around the 10 minute mile mark and still feeling kind of fresh.

The course now differed from last year a little bit. In previous runnings (last year included) Endurancelife had not managed to secure permission from a landowner to take the most desirable direct route back across to the mountain, necessitating in a diversion back over roads until you get to the mountain’s foot. This year after a successful negotiation we had a new section to traverse, mostly of muddy fields whilst being stared at by some bemused cows.

It was along here that Dewi and myself caught-up with Paula, who was running the ultra having returned to full fitness following injury as part of her training plan for an attempt to set a woman’s world record timed ascent of Mount Kilimanjaro… Her race CV was as impressive in its difficulty as it was long, including time as a sponsored athlete for North Face. She has also changed her lifestyle of late to become a vegan and felt that her performance was beginning to reap the benefits, although the strict nature of the diet was still a learning curve for her… All the best of luck to her and in keeping clear of injury in the future having compiled a comprehensive catalogue of misfortune in those she has suffered so far including a nasty one from a surfboard!

As the three of us trundled along together across the fields, the bottom of the mountain was almost in touching distance when we had one final mud-patch to clear. The other two decided to skirt round its edge but me being me I decided to plough straight on through it… Only to find that it was somewhat deeper than I had anticipated and after a couple of paces both my feet became glued in to the sucking cloying mud at the same time. I could feel myself falling forward, so I stuck my hands out to avoid face-planting, and my hands sunk in to halfway up my forearms.

The sight of this had Dewi and Paula in hysterics, with Paula pulling out her phone and snapping away at the ridiculous sight of me on all fours wallowing in the mud whilst laughing.

As I had toppled in, I caught a glimpse of something just in front of my face, and as I extricated my hands from the quagmire I grabbed at what I had seen: someone’s trainer. This was a fresh loss from today as the inside was still clean and dry, not covered in mud as it would be if it had lain there for days or weeks in the winter weather surrounded by a herd of cows. At the start of the race we had been urged to pick-up any rubbish we found on the way, so my mischievous side decided that this would be the perfect piece of litter to carry to the finish - and hopefully to re-unite it with its rightful owner.

Out the other side of the field and we found ourselves on the climb up Mount Holyhead and in the final mile of the marathon course. We weaved our way up still chatting, with Dewi and myself knowing that the hard work was over once we had reached the peak, but Paula still would have to do the 10k course on top of the marathon with its double climb of the mountain still to be done.

Paula & Dewi

On top of the mountain in the beautifully clear crisp sunshine it was great to be able to soak-up the 360 degree view. At least the mountain rescue staff assembled up here for our benefit were not being rained-on today and the wind, whilst gusting strongly, was not making life too difficult for them or us competitors… And the sight of me with a third shoe on one of my hands amused them no end :)

Now all that there was to face was the final descent down the other side back in to Breakwater Country Park and the teasing diversion around the ponds when the finish line is in sight.

After a rock-hopping gallop down the mountain I crossed the line, shoe in hand, whereupon I was asked how on earth I came to be in possession of a trainer? I explained how I had come by it and if anyone had reported losing one… My enquiries found that someone had indeed lost their trainer, had decided to carry-on with only the one, then had slipped and turned their ankle shortly after continuing their quest for the finish line, and had to be medivacced off the course as they were unable to continue. I left the shoe with lost property in the hope that it did get reunited with its rightful owner - although I firmly believe the shoe should get its own medal as it did complete the course!

The trainer rescued from the muddy mire.

When I had finally recovered and got my breath back, I had a look at the times for the returning ultra runners and decided I could not really hang around for them to finish as only 15 of the field of nearly 70 had crossed the line so far (sorry for not being there to clap you across the line Theresa!) so I made my way straight back to the van to change and recover for the drive home.

As I hit the pathway back to where I was parked I saw a familiar face next to me… Paula! She had taken her time through the CP and had started out again on the last loop for the ultra, so I jogged along with her, with her attempts at cajoling me in to joining her in completing the ultra falling on deaf ears, and at the van I wished her all the best and she was off.

Today I was wearing the pair of Karrimor’s that I had damaged on their first real outing in the Gower marathon, and today had taken a further toll upon them, with the uppers on both shoes now split. This was a bit frustrating considering how few miles they had done so far, as you would hope to get at least 200 miles out of a pair of trainers before destroying them, but hey, I only paid around £25 for them and would be really gutted if it was the same to be said for a pair of Salomon’s or Inov8’s.

The death of another pair of trainers?

Having had he last 2 months of '14 wiped-out with recovery from flu leading to near wooden-spoon levels of performance in 3 of my final 4 marathons of the year, as you know from a previous post on here I had set myself a goal for 2015 of finishing in the top 50% of a marathon field, with no specifics or caveat's on when or where it would happen... Yesterday I placed 59/119 :) a shade inside the 50 percentile, but inside it nonetheless and a full 20 minutes faster than last year’s time… Looks like I'm getting a little less slow after all. It’s funny what happens when you put the hours in to training: you improve!

Eat pies.
Drink beer.
Run far.

1st January: Resolutions

New year, new resolutions... My goals for this year are to:

Train more between races. By 'more' I actually mean do some training, as I have been a tad lax on this.

Drop my weight below 14 stone to help with my hill climbing in races. I currently sit at around 14 1/2 stone, which is lighter than I have previously been but the less lard I have to carry up a steep hill the better. The flip-side of this is that when I am on the downhills there will be less momentum generated by the belly to get me down quicker.

Finish in the top 50% of a marathon field. The closest I have been to this so far is around the 60% mark, with my normal performance being around the 75%, so with a bit of training I'm hoping to nail this one at least once by the year's end.

Run a sub 4 hour marathon. This means cutting 17 minutes off my PB time which I set back in April in Blackpool where it was flat and on tarmac, and with no runs on tarmac planned this year, it could prove to be the most challenging of all the resolutions.

Hit the 50 marathon marker by the year's end, which would take me to the halfway mark on the pursuit of the hundred club in just over 3 years.

Time will tell on all of these!


Eat pies.
Drink beer.
Run far.

31st December: A Festive 500

After last year’s failure in this (mechanical issues not ‘me’ issues) I managed to achieve what I wanted and completed the challenge set by Strava and Rapha to cycle 500km (320 miles) between Christmas Eve and New Years Eve.

Last year my plan had been worked out as a daily average where I was to go out and ride between 40 and 50 miles a day, but this fell apart when my bike did likewise, and having this daily set distance did not allow for much (if any) flexibility, plus trying to motivate myself to go out on 2 rides which were essentially on the same route on the same day was difficult and felt more like a chore than anything enjoyable.

This time round I decided to hit the ground hard (or hit the road hard in this case) and try to get as much done as soon as possible, especially with the weather being favourable. I also planned on not cycling the same route twice, although some stretches of road would be covered twice or in opposite directions; the whole point was not to let the cycling become a chore.

As documented on the blog previously, I went out on Christmas Eve and chalked-off 100 of those miles in the first day, so come Christmas Day the pressure was off with regards to getting out and putting down some big miles, so I went out for around 20 (with an arse that felt like concrete from the previous day’s exertion). Boxing Day saw an increase to 32 - both of these routes keeping me close to home on well-cycled routes of mine.

After the 2 day break over the weekend for the ostrich running I needed to get back into the longer rides to complete the challenge successfully, so a trio of 38, 80 and 42 miles brought me to my target with much relief to be had for my very sore backside.

Forcing myself to cycle routes I had not done so before gave me a greater idea as to where I can take myself in the future and I certainly enjoyed being out on the road with my iPod on listening to my podcasts, savouring the sights of the countryside. It also has helped me to keep very active over Christmas and minimise the potential for any weight gain as I was going to be damned if I was to cut-down on any of the good food and drink that was to be around this week.

Whilst clocking-up this mileage is impressive, and I am pretty chuffed with myself for achieving this at the second attempt, LSS was not impressed with me for doing so: She has informed me in no uncertain terms that if I am to repeat this in the future and essentially disappear for Christmas week on my bike - one of the few times when you can guarantee to be off from work at the same time as each other, then my bike will be dismantled and disposed of in various places along the canal.

The boss has spoken!


Eat pies.
Drink beer.
Cycle far.

28th December: Gut Busting an Ostrich

Today was my hat-trick of Winter Gut Busters. For this and the last two years on the Sunday after Christmas I have hooned around for 10 miles over the fields and trails around Silchester to earn a cup of mulled wine, a mince pie and a medal. This race also has the shorter option of a 5 mile route, but in the interests of physical stupidity I have gone with the longer distance as per my norm!

Like yesterday’s Brutal I was running in the ostrich costume, but unlike yesterday, which was just cold, today was absolute brass-monkey and I was glad of the extra warmth that the costume would be giving me!

This year I had been organised enough to book my place early and get a parking spot on-site, so I did not have to worry about transporting my costume on the complimentary bus transfer from the overflow parking several miles away.

Last year and this, the country roads on the way to the race were very icy and for the second year running I lost the van on some black-ice, regaining control of it before crashing, although not as spectacular as doing a 180 in the middle of the road as I did last year!.. and on both occasions I was well within the speed limit, so it goes to show you cannot be too careful!

All parked and changed I huddled in with everybody else to try and keep warm with the sun still too low to shine over the farm buildings and give us any warmth, as we listened to the safety briefing - with a few amused and plenty of scornful looks at my get-up from fellow runners… If anything those running today were more po-faced than those at yesterday’s Brutal, with lots of people in running club vests and expensive kit ready to go and ‘own’ the 10 miles in front of them so as to not waste all the training and fore-going of quality Christmas fodder and booze.

The Gut Buster course is an undulating mix of country lanes and fields - muddy fields to be precise, as well as the delights of running around the walls of one side of the ancient Roman town of Silchester, before cutting through the middle of it. Because the terrain is relatively flat, with only a few hills that are mercifully short and not too steep, the pace is quite quick and unrelenting and it is completely different to the 10 miles I ran yesterday as there is no continual changing of pace as you move from ascending to descending and back again rapidly or stand catching your breath in a queue to get in to a large wading section… That said there is one water hazard here on the Gut Buster and you encounter that after around the first mile as you run through a ford that is only about ankle deep, so certainly no challenge to get through!

After the briefing we were shepherded around the corner to await the start and following the mercifully short wait the countdown was over and off we went, both races setting off at the same time, with nobody having a clue who is running which distance so gauging your pace against those around you proves to be difficult.

As I ran along, passing some slower runners and in turn being passed by faster ones as we all found our positions in the pack I was getting a mix of comments over my attire, splitting opinion, those people who did pass pleasantry’s with me rather than harrumphing their disapproval found it inspirational for themselves, as they were damned sure they were going to try their hardest not to have been beaten to the finish by a man dressed as an ostrich!

The road sections over the first half of the course were very treacherous through the ice on the ground. With having trail shoes on my feet, like most other people, grip was at a premium as you have very little surface area of your foot in contact with the icy tarmac, so most people were attempting to run as much on the very narrow grass verges as possible, with everyone looking out for each other with shouts of ‘ice’ whenever we cam close to frozen puddles or stretches of black ice.

Through the ford and we were soon climbing up the hill towards Silchester and the section around the roman town. The sun was now rising to its near zenith and sending some warmth down from the cloudless sky to melt the ice, transforming the previously hard ground to squidgy mud, which doubled the fun as soon as we hit the field section the other side of the ruins! As we crossed the fields I could hear the serenade of gunfire from people out shooting pheasants relatively close-by, so I commented to people as to whether it really was wise to be dressed as a bird whilst there were trigger-happy men with shotguns prowling around looking to shoot at anything large and with wings!

On this second half of the run I found myself keeping a similar pace to a lady called Ruth who was sporting a ‘Grim’ t-shirt from earlier this month, so I had asked how it was to find out if the course had changed since I ran it… Over the course of the next couple of miles that we ran together, it turned out she is in training for the Paris marathon later next year. She also had her family along to cheer her at certain points, so she was looking forward to seeing their smiling faces later on.

Running with Ruth

About a couple of miles from the finish, a fair few of us took advantage of one of the water stops. Whilst we were taking a drink, a local drove-up and started to angrily berate us for being out there making a mess and instructed us to pick up all the used cups and do it NOW! It was true that some cups had been discarded a little down the road, but those running the water stop would be doing a litter sweep to get rid of them during and after the event, but the old-boy in his car was just in a bah-humbug kind of mood so us runners just did our best to ignore him and carry on with what we were doing.

Soon enough we were heading across the final fields towards the finish. The last mile or so is a right slog, a continual slight ascent through the muddy fields as you think the end is never going to come, but eventually it does and I made it across the line in a slower time than last year, placing 267/313, and I eagerly took the chance for the glass of mulled wine and a couple of mince pies.

'Flying' across the finish line.

Ah well, this was the last run for the year for me as I’m back in the saddle tomorrow to carry on with the Festive 500 challenge that I set myself to achieve.

What I have concluded having run the last 2 days whilst dressed as an ostrich:

Surprise surprise, running with a costume does slow you down, as the bulk around you tends to make a smooth flowing running style difficult to achieve (not that my normal style is in any way smooth or flowing), plus you do become aware of rubbing in certain areas and you do heat-up more than normal, so its certainly not something to be running in when chasing a pb!

Most importantly, lighten-up people! don’t take it so damned seriously, the whole thing about running should be to have a bit of fun as well as challenging yourself in getting out there and doing it - just because some random person puts a costume on to run in, does it really ruin your race or spoil the experience for you?

Eat pies.
Drink beer.
Run far.

27th December: Brutalising an Ostrich

This Saturday, the one betwixt Christmas and New Year was day 1 of my trail running double header... The Brutal 16k. Normally the Brutal runs are 10k in length, but as a special Christmas gift to us all they give us a bonus distance of 16k: 2 laps of this year's course down at Longmoor Camp, although the less (fool)hardy out there were able to opt for the single lap and a mere 8k of mud, sweat, hills and ditch-water.

I thought I would have a bit of fun with this and tomorrow's Gut Buster and run it in fancy dress. Having appeared as one of the Blues Brothers last year I decided to ramp-up the difficulty for myself and complete this Christmas’s tomfoolery dressed as an ostrich... Yes, an ostrich.

With me doing this, LSS had to come down to watch me run, just for novelty value of seeing me dressed as an ostrich more than anything else, so the 2 of us made the short drive down to the event base on the edge of the Longmoor army camp just bordering the A3 south of Bordon.

The obligatory pristine 'before' pic.

Purposely missing-out the warm-up I took my place towards the back of the starting pack, my costume already intriguing dogs and amusing some of the smaller children gathered to wave-off their mums and dads... And as soon as I was in the pack we were off onto the trail.

We ran so fast from the start that it was all a blur :)

I managed to pick my way through the pack, with mixed views from my fellow competitors: some loving the fact that an ostrich was steaming past them, others muttering about the crassness of it and how it ‘demeaned’ the whole event - an event that involves running around a military training ground, scrambling up muddy hills and through bogs, ditches and deep puddles getting soaking wet and covered in mud… Yes, a very refined spectacle we all are as we finish, whatever our time. Personally I think some people get upset by the fact this run is a very big deal for them and have been working towards this for a while, foregoing Christmas drinks and eschewing mince-pies to be at their best and run a single lap, only to have some fat fool in fancy dress drift past them and proving perhaps that maybe all the privation of the last week was not necessarily worth it and they could have enjoyed the run without enduring cutting back on the festive cheer!

Emerging from the woodland after the start stretch we found ourselves in the first clearing and I began experiencing my first problem of being an ostrich: A saggy crotch… As I was running, the body of the ostrich was falling downwards to the point the crotch of it was now between my knees, so it was almost impossible to run as it was severely restricting the length of my stride, and no amount of holding it up was achieving anything as doing this was making me just as slow, so thinking on the hoof, or on the wing in this case I figured a quick fix and stopped to enact it… I whipped my top off and crossed the braces over to opposite shoulders before replacing my top, which alleviated the problem and I was able get back to running once more with some sense of purpose and concentrate on getting my footing right rather than adjusting and holding my costume.

Up hill...

...And down dale.

The course crossed short and sharp wet sandy hills and into the next forestry section, complete with some ‘proper’ hills of the punishing variety (that you would expect on a Brutal) and some long deep wading puddles discoloured coloured yellow from the sandy mud beneath.

Descending to the first water trap marshalled by the 'Purple One'.

An ostrich's eye view of the wade ahead.

I waded through the waist deep water with no problem, with it appearing to onlookers that the ostrich was gracefully swimming across. Once out the other side it was back along the woody trail, up and down a few more fiendishly sharp hills till I came back close to the start and the smiling LSS with her camera before I was confronted by the first of what can only be described as the total immersions.

Having gone through plenty of these in the past, there’s no point in pussy-footing around trying to get in as daintily as possible, as this only costs you time and doesn’t keep you any drier in the end! So I ploughed on into it and tried to maintain my balance as my feet tried to find the bottom, and to my relief it was only really up to the top of my legs, so scrambling out was no problem… Continuing along the parapet of the ditch for about 20 metres, cheered along the way by the few gathered spectators amused that someone in fancy dress was gamely running the course, I turned to re-cross the ditch, so following my tactics I did the same and did a full-blooded leap in to the water below, only to initially find my feet were not touching the bottom and I fully submerged, almost having to swim a couple of strokes to make the other side of the ditch… And then the fun started.

I had made a SEVERE miscalculation about the costume in how well it absorbed water. Tying to get out of the water and back on to dry land, I discovered as my legs now had to bear all the weight of the water the costume had soaked up, it was at least another 25 kilos heavier than before, and this weight was pulling me -off balance back in to the water… It took all my might to haul myself up out the water and to the top of the parapet where a lot of the freezing water now poured-out. I decided that attempting to run with all this extra weight was a fool’s errand, so I took some time to wring as much water out of the ostrich’s arse as I possibly could - those spectators there killing themselves with laughter at the sight of me bending over to squeeze some very brown looking water out of a large bird’s bottom that made it look like the bird was having an attack of diarrhoea!

Having wrung-out as much of the water as I could, I continued my merry way around the last couple of miles of this first lap, but I still had the ‘handicap’ of around an extra 10kilos or more of water around me in the costume, so the effort required to drag my sorry arse around the course was considerably more than before and I was struggling to make any pace at all, with plenty of people now passing me. Up and down some more steep woodland hills and some decent slippery mud, the finish line was in sight and through one final knee-deep 10 metre long muddy wade I was in the finishing straight and veered left past it for the second lap as most people veered right to finish their single effort… And believe me I was sorely tempted to veer right and join them, but I managed to dissuade the ‘chimp’ from stopping me and carried-on for the second circuit: buaidh no bas!

Bedraggled at the halfway point... Not sure if the water is from the costume or just puddles.

Starting on this second, and mercifully final, lap it made me realise that the number of people taking this option seemed to be far less than those running just a single lap, so all on my todd I continued on my course, waving to LSS as I went past. Stopping to drink at the aid station, I caught a fellow 2 lapper and ran a bit with him. As we chatted and jogged along we came back on to the sandy hills and a father was there with his toddler who had seen the costume and was chuckling and pointing at it, so I purposely ran over to the lad and moved the head of the ostrich was level with his so he could stroke it, before he got a ‘kiss’ from the ostrich’s beak before running on leaving a very happy chappy behind.

The second lap as you would expect was the same as the first, so I knew exactly what was coming, but I was really fatigued with the carrying of the extra weight, and getting through the double ditch immersion was even harder with tired legs, but continue I did to the finish line, eventually crossing it at a near stagger in a very slow time.

Finally finishing!

Grabbing some complimentary chocolates and a cup of water I met with LSS, the two of us walking back to the van where I promptly changed-out of the cold, wet ostrich and in to something warm whilst taking the chance to reflect upon the experience of running in this get-up in anticipation of tomorrow.

I had second-guessed where chaffage might occur, so had mercifully escaped that, except from a minor amount on my neck where the braces crossed over, which was an adaptation on the fly to how the costume was initially worn. Making this change meant the costume was easy enough to run in and I also found that I did not overheat through wearing it.. Its just in the future I really need to be avoiding water that goes over the top of my legs and in to the ostrich’s body. The legs of the ostrich if anything took the edge off of the wind out there and the elastic trainer stirrups remained in place and undamaged - so all in all I was pretty happy with the performance of the costume on what was quite a work-out for something that is merely made for standing around in at office parties!

The neck of the bird has a wire running through it to help keep its shape, and with the reigns of it around my neck, the head naturally held itself to one side in an almost camelid fashion, which made it pretty easy to not worry about and run with both hands free as you would want to… And another great thing about the costume is it fitted in the washing machine to clean-off and being made of all synthetic fibres, it was pretty much dry by the time it came out of the machine after 2 spins… I put it in the airing cupboard to dry off as best as possible ready for the second leg of my double-header, the Gut Buster.

I have to say a big thanks to LSS for accompanying me to the race and standing around on a cold Saturday morning when there are far, far better things to be doing and most of them involving staying warm, and also for her taking the pics of me - although I do suspect this was partially done for schadenfreude and the amusement value of seeing what on earth I looked like in the costume and how much of a bedraggled muddy mess I would be in at the end ;)

Eat pies.
Drink beer.
Run far.