I'd agreed to enter the Gut Buster after Walshy, Stu Charles and Dan Swaine had said they intended to give it a go. Unfortunately by the time I got my finger out of my arse and went to organise my entry, they had filled-up. On closer reading of their website, it stated that they close the race based on car-parking availability at the venue, so with the race not being too far away by distance - around 10 miles, I was intending to cycle so I contacted the organisers over a place on the wait-list.
Their reply came that if I could get there by car-share or any means then I could enter on the day regardless for the standard £20 fee, so by cycling I was guaranteed a place!
On the day I was up at sparrow's fart getting ready to ride there. I had decided that I would just put an elastic bandage over the dressing on the knee to protect it and hope for the best… I knew that the wound was not scabbing properly by the amount of plasma that was leaking out and the occasional dribble of blood.
I set out and about a mile en-route I realised I had left my wallet back home, and with needing to pay the £20 I had no choice but to return, grab it, and dash off again. This had cost me 10 minutes and I was conscious about not making it on-time.
Pedalling furiously I managed to get to the event about 10 minutes before the scheduled start. After registration I sent a message to Walshy asking where he was - it turned out they had all gone to the gee-gee's at Newbury the previous day and got too wasted to even consider being up for a run… So it was me alone.
The route for the Gut Buster is about 75% cross country and the rest on the farm-tracks and country lanes, with a ford to cross. The route takes you around the walls of Calleva Atrebatum - where I had run the Real Relay torch through the middle of not 6 months previous - then off across farmers fields back to the start. The weather leading-up to it had been rainy on top of sodden ground, so a mud-fest was to be expected and I had already got wet on the ride over from the spray.
The race started about 15 minutes late, and off we went down the soaking wet farm tracks wending our way down to the ford. In the safety briefing we had been advised to go across the single-file foot bridge to the side of it rather than risking the water, but having run the Brutal a few weeks ago and the Grim in the past, a bit of water was holding no fear for me and as everyone queued to get across I ploughed on through the water, with a few hardy souls following me.
The start had been very bunched and it took a good mile to get enough room to run at my own pace rather than those in front who were noticeably slower. By the time we made Calleva Atrebatum there was ample room and there was no jostling for space.
I was wearing my trail running trainers so I was prepared for the mud, but most people weren't so fortunate - they were learning the mistake I had made at the Pembrokeshire CTS marathon: no grip is no fun! It made me chuckle with a bit of schadenfreude watching people sliding and slipping over into the mud as I ran past with not a care about my footing!
After our lap of the walls of the Roman city we went across some recently harvested fields which were ankle-deep mud with every step and sucked the life out of your limbs. The mud was pretty unrelenting from this point onwards although not as bad as on this field.
Around this part I ended up being overtaken by someone wearing an Endurancelife shirt - one of the ones they give you for running the Coastal Trail Series, so I struck-up a conversation with him before he would inevitably disappear off! It turns out that today was his 99th race of the year and tomorrow, New Years Eve, was to be his 100th! He had set himself a challenge of 100 races for the year - all varying in length from 10k to marathons. By the end of the year, tomorrow, he would have run just shy of 1,500 miles competitively. This guy was in his late 40's so there's still hope for me yet for these mad-cap schemes of physical tomfoolery! He had just run the CTS Gower marathon and recommended it, although he was disappointed about having to run it in the rain, but you have no choice over the weather!
The course was marked at every km and by the time we got to the 9th we could see the finish-line. This was a right tease!.. It was uphill over harvested muddy fields, energy sapping to say the least, but you could see the finish line and it spurred you onwards!
Once across there were glasses of mulled wine and mince-pies for us to snack on, and a chunky medal for the momento. As I stood there necking some mulled wine, one of the stewards came over and started to talk to me asking if I was ok. Bemused I said I was fine, the rest of the conversation went something like this:
No, you're bleeding, quite badly
Am I?
Er, yes your knee
Knee?.. Oh that, it's nothing (I felt like doing the Black Knight from the Holy Grail here)
But you've lost a lot of blood.
Seriously, it's not that bad I did it a few days ago, it looks worse than it is.
You should come to the medical tent and get it properly dressed.
Thanks for the offer, but I've got to cycle 10 miles home so I would just undo all your hard work, so I'll take my chances!
After changing t-shirt I clambered on to my bike and slowly rode-off home, a journey that seemed to take an eternity
In the end after the results were published, I had come-in 98/164 with a time of 1:38:04 a time with which I was happy all things considered with the knee and having cycled at speed to get there beforehand! After my shower upon my return I was still not brave enough to yank-of the dressing, so I left nature to weave its magic.
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| A good shot of the bloody knee! |
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| Approaching the finish line. |
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