6th October: Clarendon

Up and attem for another early start, and unfortunately a very unprepared one having only looked at the route the previous night.

The Clarendon Marathon is a point-to-point along the ancient Clarendon Way footpath from Salisbury to Winchester across country, a route that offers something rare: the chance to run between two ancient cities over trails at exactly a marathon distance.

You have two choices for this event for where you park your car. You can either drive to the start in Salisbury, run to Winchester and be bussed back, or do the exact opposite. I opted for the latter as driving to the car park in Winchester only takes around 20 minutes from home rather than an hour to Salisbury and it meant I could make an immediate getaway after the run.

I said how disorganised I was, well I did not manage to sort out an entry before the online registration closed the previous week, so I just made my way there for an on the day cancellation spot, which they had stated would be available for only a £3 premium over the normal race ticket price.

Parking alongside the motorway at the Winchester park & ride it was still swathed in a blanket of autumnal morning fog and I joined the queue for the transfer bus to the start. Climbing up the stairs of the double-decker I took a seat and read a copy of Outdoor Fitness as the bus took us on its 45 minute journey to the event base in Salisbury; the Wyvern school.

Foggy.

On the buses.

The sports hall was long opened and already full of the gathering masses for the marathon and the marathon relay's first leg. I managed to pick-up my cancellation entry and set-about preparing myself for the start.

I decided it would be the best plan to empty the old bladder before the start of the race, so I went to find the toilets. Unfortunately for all of us, the facilities for the event consisted of 5 portaloos for everyone to sort themselves out, and the queue with about 20 minutes to the start was getting on for 100 people deep!

The snaking queue of trotters for the trotters.

Standing in line I struck-up a conversation with the person in front of me. He was running the first leg of the marathon relay and unfortunately had drawn the short straw of having to register all 4 of his team and sort the numbers; running with them all in hand to pass on to the next person. Normally he's a cyclist who regularly rides audax events with his circle of friends, so pretty much a 100km ride before lunch on a Saturday morning, come rain or shine, with the line drawn at ice. Today he volunteered for the first leg and has left his bike at the changeover so he can enjoy a good ride home after the warm-up of a 10k run.

After making the end of the queue for the trotters with 10 minutes to spare (with an equal number behind me as had been when I joined it), it was a jaunt up the steps on to the playing fields to congregate under blue skies with everyone else for the start, and the realisation about how un prepared I was for this race; my body telling me that it did not feel too good about the thought of the distance to come. With the sun out I was now wishing I had brought my cap and sun-block as it was certain to be a fairly hot one, but foolishly I had consulted the weather forecast which had the day as overcast throughout and had not bothered with them rather than erring on the side of caution.

Up the hill to the field.

No fog anymore!

Off we jogged from the school, through a few streets and up a hill until we found the trail and a single-file run skirting field and woodland on a trail that was very reminiscent of the Pilgrim, including some more bemused llamas to stare at us as we all filed past.

Inquisitive llama's.

On this first leg I was running alongside a truly remarkable gentleman. He is in his mid 50's and in remission from leukaemia. Before the illness he was a keen runner and had embraced triathlon, but after falling ill he had to take a lengthy break and was now attempting to come back stronger than ever with a new focus on life. Through his illness he has realised you only get one life and having nearly seen it ripped from him before his time he is determined to run all those races he has always wanted to compete in before it is all too late... So far he has managed to finish the Iron Man Zurich in the summer after a lot of hard training to make the start of it and he is now looking to other extreme endurance events, with the Marathon des Sables on his ultimate list, although he realises that he may have difficulty gaining an entry as he will need a doctor's sign-off to compete in line with all the other entrants of the event, and he is naturally worried that he may not get this with the leukaemia and his dream will be denied him… Soon enough, being a far fitter specimen than me he hared-off in to the distance leaving me to plod along by myself.

Running across the rolls and undulations of the countryside, crossing field after field we eventually managed to reach the second check-point and the start point of the half marathon in Broughton and a slight relief that I was making ok time to this point. The second half continued much the same as the first, with the hills that we did face being mercifully small and short.

Runners snaking off in to the distance.

Looking back from the end of the field above.

Soon after this half-way marker I was caught by Jason & Leanne, a husband and wife both running their first marathon, and doing it together! They had put the miles in to their training so were progressing steadily, although they were now realising the scale of what they were doing and the fact that no matter how hard you are finding it, you've just got to keep on going till you cross that line at the end. They seemed to be enjoying it and I asked if they were considering more… and the same with pretty much every one on the first run, they replied that they would decide after they have survived this one. I told them how hard I found my first CTS one in Pembroke, especially with around 5 miles to go just wanting to curl up and cry like a baby as it nearly beat me, and said to them that they know they have the mileage within them to get to the end, the rest is purely psychological and they can pull each other along. Soon enough after yo-yo ing position with them, they disappeared off into the wide green yonder to finish 10 minutes ahead of me.

Jason & Leanne heading off.

You know that bit about the hills being mercifully small and short… Well it certainly changed for the worse after 16 miles where we encountered a series of steep sharp climbs and descents that stepped the elevation up by around 500 foot over 5 miles by the end of the sequence, having endured 1000 foot of total ascent to get there. The worst part by far was after the aid station at around 17 miles and we were faced with an absolute lung-burster, and that was just walking it! This section was a killer and certainly removed the chance of beating any PB as I certainly had not banked enough time to take this into account before I got here.

Another field to cover!

Whilst on the subject of hills, the photographers for this event were Sussex Sports Photography, who seem to do most of the events in Hampshire/ Surrey/ Sussex, and had been doing the Pilgrim a few weeks before. These guys always seem to station themselves at the top of hills, so its almost impossible to muster enough steam to get a good run towards them as an action shot, so mine tend to resemble 'inaction' shots. Anyway, I was pulling my 'moose' every time I passed them which caused a couple of the photographers to comment 'oh its you again'. It seems that I may be one of the few people who strike a pose on the way past them rather than trying to look like a determined pro runner chasing a win - something I definitely am not! At least its something different for them to shoot and they always seem to smile as I mount the antlers on approaching them!

At one point we ran along a track through farmland and on one side of the path across a fence was a herd of 30 cows and their calves, all of them black in colour. On the other side of the path across a fence was another herd of 30 cows and their calves, all of them fresians… And both sets of cows were facing one another bellowing as loud as they could, staring each other out in some form of sectarian bovine stand-off. It was as though both sides were calling the other out in a 'come and have a go if you think you're hard enough' kind of way, which was very surreal to run through the middle of.

At one point the trail dropped down to the river Test, which meant to me that Winchester could not be too far off.

Crossing the Test

Verdant river banks.

Crossing the narrow wooden bridge over the shallow fast flowing water I noticed a sign with the Endurancelife chevrons on it pointing back the way we had come… They must have been here for one of their races some time in the past!

Those familiar chevrons!

On this last stage I was caught and overtaken by another first-timer who was feeling the distance. She had been driven up from Pompey by her boyfriend who was awaiting her appearance to take a photo as she conquered the trails. He normally does things like this and she has driven him to and from countless events so with him suffering an injury it was her time to go running and him to be the support crew!.. She has only really started running seriously in the last year and is doing this to prove to herself that she has it within her to run a marathon, and was now wishing she had chosen a bit of a flatter easier course, although with a nagging back injury she was running the marathon on the trail to minimise any discomfort with the softer surface under foot.

More of the rolling countryside.

Soon after being left on my own once more, the trail ended and the road began as the edge of Winchester was found, and before long the Kings School and the finish was in sight. Crossing the line I collapsed to get my breath for a few minutes before picking up my back from the drop tent and wandered in to the school to find the showers - something that few of these events have so I was glad to be able to take advantage of them. We had been warned in advance that the hot water was a finite supply and it had certainly long run-out by the time I had got there. Braving the freezing blast I managed to shower-down, hopefully as an ice-bath benefit which soon had me cooled down and I emerged clean and changed in to normal clothes.

Scoffing my scotch eggs awaiting the transfer bus back to the park and ride I saw Jagjit standing there awaiting the same bus, so we had a bit of a chat as I had not seen him since the South Downs although he had run the Pilgrim a few weeks before. After a wait of around half an hour the bus arrived and off we all went.

The event was a good simple course with not too much on the road and as mentioned was quite similar to the Pilgrim. I did not manage to do justice to it in terms of a time through my poor preparation (I certainly did not abide by the British Army rule of the 7p's: Perfect Planning & Preparation Prevents Piss-Poor Performance) so I would like to run it again at some point to rectify this. The course was well signed and marshalled and the mile markers counted down to the finish rather than up from the start which was a welcome change as you certainly knew exactly where you were with this. I'd recommend the Clarendon to others as a simple and straightforward course that was not too challenging in the hill department, and consequently the scenery was not as spectacular as seen in other races, although there is never a dull sight when you are running through a rural landscape!