Go Beyond Ultra - Country to Capital 2018
Preamble
So, this year was my second attempt at the Country to Capital ultra from Wendover to Little Venice in London and I was hoping for a significant improvement over last year's under-trained, painful struggle.C2C 2017 had been my first real ultra and although I'd put in plenty of long runs in the build up, those mid-week runs that build the real conditioning had been missing and that became obvious in the second half of the race.
Up to CP3, at nearly 26 miles, everything had been going pretty well and I was keeping to my target heart rate of sub-135bpm but no more than a mile or so later I hit the wall and the next 15 miles were a hellish mix of run/walk/hobble/try not to cry. I eventually dragged my sorry carcass across the line in 8hrs 22mins. If you want see just how bad I looked by the end then enjoy the vlog I made for sixth formers at school.
Anyway, I knew 8.22 was a time that only represented my inexperience and lack of training. This year, I planned (hoped) to do a fair bit better.
Targets
1. Finish
2. Finish sub-8.22
3. Finish sub-8.00
Race morning
I'd had a bit of a bonus on the hotel front, managing to find a cheap guest house in High Wycombe that had a fridge, sink and microwave in the room which meant I could have a proper breakfast of my own making. Previously, breakfast had been catered for by petrol station sandwiches so a bowl of porridge with a large splodge of golden syrup was most welcome.
I arrived at registration about 7.30am (an hour before race start) which gave me plenty of time to get booked in and go through all the pre-race faff runners are so good at: apply race number with safety pins; stand up to discover the number's too tight/loose; re-pin the number; pack race bag; look at the size of other runners' packs; figure you're carrying too much/little; get paranoid; unpack and re-pack race bag; check your clothing choices against other competitors; get paranoid again; go back to the car and change; double-check drop bag for end of race; hand drop bag to the man in the van and immediately wonder if you've forgotten something essential. Phew! It's a surprise we have any energy left to run after all that. All I can say is that the level of paranoia I feel at running races is nothing compared to the way I used to feel packing for triathlons. So much kit!
By the time I'd got through all that it was 8.20am and time to head out into the pub car-park (a most civilised starting venue) ready for the 8.30 start.
Race start to CP1 - a bit of a blur
To be honest, this first section is a bit of blur. There was the usual nervous chit-chat amongst friends (not me, I'm Billy No-Mates at races) as we waited for the start to commence in the positively balmy 5C air temp. The race director gave a short speech as this was the 10th anniversary running of the event and then we were off for the mad dash down Wendover high street to the one-at-a-time cut-through at the bottom of the road and out onto the paths and trails leading away from the town.
The chatting continued for the first mile or so but it's at that point we hit the first major climb of the day and the chatter subsided as we naturally fell into a single-file power-trek up that first hill. After that, it was steady jog up and down the hills to CP1 with very little to report. My legs took a couple of kilometres to properly warm up and feel like they had some running in them and I could remember the track pretty well so knew which hills could be jogged up without damaging me for later in the race and the hills that needed walking up were obvious - they were dead steep and everyone else was walking as well.
Last year I had been trying the MAF technique and a high fat/low carb diet so had religiously stuck to a max heart rate of 135bpm. This had resulted in an average pace of about 6.10-20/km early in the race. This year, I jettisoned all that malarkey and was running by feel with a flat terrain pace of about 5.40/km and a heart rate of about 140-145bpm. As such, I was earlier into CP1 than last year - a trend that was to continue.
CP1 to CP2 - feeling good
CP1 was well-stocked with Go Beyond Ultra's famous fruitcake along with water and jelly-babies. I stopped briefly to re-tie my laces. I don't like tight shoes but the mud was threatening to suck my trainers off my feet so it was a necessary compromise. I still had plenty of water in my bladder so there was no need for a refill and I was able to stick to one of my key targets - don't waste time at aid stations. I grabbed some cake and walked on through the checkpoint munching as I went.
Back to running and by now I was feeling positive: my legs were running freely, my heart rate was low and I was keeping myself well-fed and hydrated. As is the case with ultras, you often fall in with someone running at the same pace and it's time to chat and enjoy the experience. Between CP1 and CP2 I fell in with a couple of runners with whom I shot the breeze, discussed everything from work to parenthood to running and training and upcoming events but something kept happening that meant I was often moving on from one runner to the next - hills. Not steep, power-walking hills but long, shallow hills that had my companions slowing their pace and occasionally walking but, very unusually for me, I just kept ploughing on and didn't really feel like it was causing any future damage to the second half of the race.
Going into the race I had been concerned that I hadn't done enough specific hill training bearing in mind that, even though the C2C is 43 miles with just under 1500ft of climbing, all the climbing is done in the first 23 miles of the race. But it seemed my fears were misplaced and even the long drag up to CP2 had me distancing my running companion of the moment.
CP2 to CP3 - the diversion
Again, I was quick through the checkpoint - grabbing some gels for later, avoiding the jelly-babies and taking another handful of fruitcake. Walking out of CP2 and it was time to look for the diversion that had been put in place for some reason.
The diversion was something I had been slightly concerned about because I was following last year's track on my Garmin watch and didn't want to get lost. Last year between these checkpoints I had taken a wrong turning adding about 500m and a ruddy great hill to my C2C so was keen not to make the same mistake again. As it happened, that mistake would play a role in this year's race as well.
Following the first of the route markers (unheard of in Go Beyond races) we were out into some open fields then an interminably long road section with squeaky-bum distances between the course signs.
It would have been easy to get lost here but I knew we were running pretty much parallel with the normal course so I ran on with relative confidence. I could have stopped to check the route map issued to all runners at registration but hey, I like to live dangerously.
At the end of the road section we crossed a main road and headed up a very long and steep hill. At the top I came across a small group of runners desperately checking maps and Garmins (other GPS devices are available) to figure out where they were. I, however, knew exactly where we were. We had just climbed the hill I had run down and then back up the year before so when I called out which way to run and set off in that direction there was some questioning of my confidence. A short recount of last year's cock-up and everyone was happy I knew what I was doing. Then the shutters started to come down.
Up to now everything had been going fine but I was a good 3.5 hours into the race and a lack of sleep from a trying week at work was doing its best to take its toll - but I was ready. Until now, all gels had come from the left side of my pack but now I went to the right-hand pocket and my first caffeine gel. I was still feeling positive so it was an easy mind-game to keep going until the caffeine kicked in and when it did it was business as usual.
By now the course was beginning to flatten off which meant we were approaching the canal and there would be no more hills (except one... near the end... which I will come to...near the end). The pack were strung out now and I would run alone from this point to the end of the course.
Onto the canal and I began looking forward to CP3. Last year this checkpoint had been a few hundred metres short of the marathon mark and I had made it there in about 4.45. I checked my watch and was somewhat disconcerted - I was past the marathon point and I knew there was still a way to go. Turns out the diversion had added about 3km to the course and it was only now I had the clarity of thought to be able to do the maths to figure that out. I was also pleased to see I had gone through the marathon in 4.13. As my flat course marathon PB is 4.02 I was chuffed to bits and still running well. I had another caffeine gel and trotted on.
CP3 to CP4 - afternoon sun: darkening skies
I arrived into CP3 in a quite astonishing 4hrs 26mins. 20 minutes ahead of last year and with an added 3km in the bank. I will admit, CP3 on this course is one of my favourites - it is past halfway so you're now running home and it's stocked with all manner of savoury foods including pork pies, cocktail sausages and mini scotch eggs. I took time to refill my now empty bladder, grabbed a handful of savouries and carried on. Last year I think I'd spent nearly 10 minutes at that checkpoint but this year I was gone in no more than three.
I'll admit, this is where last year's race began to play on my mind. I'd stayed positive so far but last year this was where the wheels had come off and I began to wonder if the same would happen again. It didn't. I continued to run at a decent pace even though my Garmin was playing up - sub 4min/km? I don't think so.
It was at this point the sun actually came out. I had joked earlier in the race that we might not notice if the sun actually came up as the skies were resolutely grey, dull and distinctly British. But here I was, in the afternoon winter sun, trotting along the Grand Union Canal and feeling pretty good about myself. I was massively ahead of any kind of schedule and sub-8 hours was definitely achievable. Oh, Andy, you fool.
CP3 to CP4 is supposed to be about 10k if you listen to the people manning CP3 but I knew this wasn't the case. It's definitely further. Maybe not by much, but by enough to play on your mind... and your legs.
At 52km, I hit the canal turn and the (in)famous 'Paddington 12.5' miles sign. You can tell yourself it's a short training run to the end; the kind of distance you don't usually get out bed for. I know you can tell yourself that because it's what I did. I did it last year as well. Didn't work then. Didn't work this year either. I might have been running between 6-6.30/km but it was hurting. My legs were stiffening up and my heart rate kept spiking. I was also beginning to feel sick.
There was nothing I could about the legs. The heart rate meant dropping the pace a little which the legs were doing of their own accord anyway so I just had to deal with the sick feeling. I'd been here before in other races so I knew what it was. It is not a need to vomit - it's actually sore abs from the prolonged effort. I could still take on gels knowing that I needed to but I had no appetite at all.
Then I realised something really rather important. I was still running. Not walking. Not employing a run/walk strategy. Not using vlogging as an excuse to walk (see the video above). I was actually running. And, with that realisation, I carried on, feeling just a little bit lighter on my feet.
CP4 to CP5 - 'It's not that far'
The checkpoint came and went in a blur: a couple of cups of water, my own gel and then onwards. Leaving the CP I allowed myself my first walking break but kept it to 500m. My Garmin was still occasionally recording weird splits and my head was tired from keeping a positive outlook (keeping the darkness at bay takes more than just a few caffeine gels) so there was no way I could figure out what kind of end time was in sight. And really, at that point, I didn't care.
But, as the title says, it's not that far from CP4 to CP5 and also knowing CP5 is the final checkpoint before the end is an added bonus. So on I trundled but now the hurt had moved. It wasn't in my legs anymore; it was in my shoulders and my back and my chest. Basically, the entirety of my upper body was sore and aching and cold (remember the sun? Yep, that had gone in and put its hat away for the day).
I was also getting p***ed off with other runners. It wasn't their fault - they were employing their late-race run/walk strategies but God it was annoying. Oh look, you've passed me going at a decent clip and gapped me by 300 or 400 metres. And now you've stopped to walk so I'm going to pass you in a couple of minutes. And I do pass you but now you've got your breath back so you start running again and I can hear you coming but we're like a couple of lorries overtaking uphill on a dual carriageway and this is the slowest passing manoeuvre on the planet but I'm in a dark place and it's doing my head in. Will you please just bog off! But they didn't and I kept running at my rather sedate 7.40ish/km.
CP5 to the finish - how far?!
At CP5 I made a massive mental mistake. From last year, I had it in my head that it was about 8km/5miles from the CP5 to the finish line so was absolutely distraught when the chirpy girl at the checkpoint told me it was 'only 10k to go'. 10k?! I wanted to curl up and cry. Everything hurt, I'd used all my caffeine gels and there was no way I could get to the finish line before the time ticked over the 8 hour mark. There was 10k to go; I was at 6.45.20 and was running at 7.30/km at best. I could do the maths and it wasn't looking good.
OK, come on, Kirky. Get your backside in gear and get going. 8 hours might have been off the cards but I could still go under last year's 8.22 so there was still something to work for.
The next 5 kilometres were torturous. The interminable game of cat and mouse with the run/walkers continued (not) apace; I had no appetite and no desire to drink and the monotony of the canal was driving me to distraction. With no way points of any note, I couldn't even break it down into manageable sections - next bridge, next corner etc etc - so it was just a step by step drag. Then I got to 67km.
At 67km something happened that had definitely not happened it last year's race. My body stopped hurting and my legs just opened up. It wasn't a conscious decision but all of a sudden my stride lengthened and my heart rate, that had been stuck at about 150bpm for the last two hours, elevated and I was off.
I snapped the pacing elastic that had tethered me to my infuriating running companions and pushed on with the finish line fast approaching. My times dropped steadily from 7.30/km to 6.42/km in the final kilometre. I went through last year's final distance of 69.3km 44 minutes ahead of last year's time. I came to the 'hill' at Sainsbury's - a short, steep rise up to the road and back down to the canal - and kept on running. No walking for me. No need to keep anything in reserve so it all got used.
The red dot for the end of the course was showing on my watch by now so I knew I was close and just kept running. I was running past landmarks that I recognised from last year and was desperately trying to remember how far they were from finish.
I looked at my watch and the red dot was getting closer. I flicked screens to check my time and all of sudden sub-8hrs was back on the cards. It was going to be close but it was doable. My legs got the hint I wanted more from them and they duly obliged though heaven knows where it came from. I hammered along the waterside and dodged through the railings there to slow down bikes as the red dot drew ever closer to the centre of my watch face.
Then the low bridge that marks the finish hove into sight and I broke into the ultra-marathon version of a sprint finish, ducking under the bridge and crossing the line in...
7:58:48
Afterwards
To say I was/am pleased with my race is something of an understatement. I achieved all my goals despite the course being 3km longer this year. I went under last year's time of 8.22. I even finished sub-8hrs. And, for the most part, I enjoyed it.
Of course, consistent training was the key which lead to consistent running with only two walk breaks of 500m each. And, I managed to remain pretty positive throughout so now I'm looking forward to my next race - the Thames Trot on 3rd February. A relatively flat 48 miles... I hope.
Stats and stuff
Age: 42
Height: 117.8cm
Weight: 79kg
Trainers: Hoka One One Challenger ATR 3
Pack: Nathan VaporAir
Nutrition: SiS Go gels
