My first ultra since Race to the Stones a few months ago, I had been checking out the course on Google Earth for a few days. My practice runs had been supposedly about honing my race strategy in terms of pacing and nutrition. I say 'supposedly' because for some earlier races (the Stones, and Brighton Marathon), that strategy (especially the nutrition part) hadn't really worked out.
But for this race, it did, both on the food and on the pace side. Where earlier in the year I had failed to eat enough on the course, which had then contributed to a severe dropping off of my speed, during this race to the sea I had replicated a strategy that I had honed pre-lockdown, way back in my Laurentians run into northern Quebec when I spontaneously went out for a 48km run from Morin Heights on the Corridor Aerobique. I count that as (until now) my best ever run.
The run I did yesterday, down to Poole and across to Bournemouth, has just usurped that position as 'top run'. What I done earlier, I did now, which is to say, "Eat enough." As in the Laurentians, I took with me sufficient food to fuel a 50km run (and then some): 4 Peanut Clif Bars; 3 SIS gels; 3 bottles of Lucozade, spread across three bottles (one in my Kalenji trail bag/vest; one on my running belt; and another carried by hand to the first check point where the empty bottle was discarded).
I ate all of it, the final two gels being washed down with a berry flavoured Lucozade in the final three miles of the race. I still had energy, though a very faint tell-tale tingle haunted my finger tips, a sure sign of impending low-blood sugar for me.
The beginning of the race took us through dry forest-lands bordering on some swampy areas, in alternation. I had lined up with the 7:40am group and spotted a few other BFRs across the way. But second later everyone was running, grouped or clustered or single (like me), just behind the whole big cluster. I was NOT going to head out too fast. This, the second successful strategy, which was to keep the pace above 10mm the whole way. Begin the race and you intend to end it. Which I did!
It was more like 11mm+, which was even better. I ran along behind a bit group that had some jokes circulating and some big laughs, a great feeling that was infectious. As they pulled away from me I actually began to believe I might've been in last place, but then I remember all the people I'd left behind back at the toilet queue. A couple more solo runners passed me and I settled into the first leg to the checkpoint. The scenery remained haunting and beautiful with early morning fogs just beginning to lift across boggy meadows and moors.
The terrain was pretty flat throughout, with a wide gravelly pathway and lots of room to pass other runners, or be passed, or to say hi to dog-walkers and families of the earlier morning bent. At each checkpoint I ritualistically downed a Clif bar and washed it down with plenty of Lucozade. I hit the second check point having only consulted my watch a couple of times, and that to see if I was indeed on the right track, following the organiser-supplied .gpx file I'd set to 'Navigate' as a course. It was spot-on the whole way.
So, the long middle section arrived, and my pace crept up a bit. I run a lot of half-marathons, and was heading into that distance, between the 19km checkpoint 2 and the 31.5ish km checkpoint 3. During this log segment I paced myself with some 10mm runners and overheard their chat and knew I was on a fast bit and that I'd need to not get carried away if a finish was to be possible. My instinct to just finish always kicks in at some point as I fatigue during a race and adjust.
The first time I checked my distance was when navigate informed me I had 21km to go. It was nice to have this information well past the halfway point because in my mind I was only just halfway. And here I was with just a couple of kms to the next checkpoint, and already on the seafront. Once you hit that seafront you feel like you're on the home stretch, and you have a lot of support along the way. You feel a bit like you're just out for jog like everyone else, nothing special for certain stretches, but then of course there are the dedicated supporters walking along, or sitting at one of the many pub tables along the way.
A lot wobbly looking people in the heat of the final checkpoint, and we had only 8+km to go at that point. The last 5 miles felt long and a bit hot (though with cool breaths of air from the sea), and I mostly managed to run the whole thing. I think I only walked for less that one mile during the entire race. An older runner paced me for part of it: he was indefatigable and never once walked and he had an absolutely metronomic pace going. I was with him at checkpoint 4 at which point he stopped for about a minute, and then was off into the distance without me.
The last legs are the most inspiring finishing segments I've seen for a while, with grand vistas along the beach to a distant headland cliff. You push through some sand and up a knoll and you're there, and everyone's so laid back lolling on the grass like its a summer festival. Which it was, with summery weather even though only early autumn. A great day, and a very memorable race that I'll consider doing again next year.
