12

London to Brighton 2009

I applied to enter the London to Brighton Trail run several months ago. I ran the event last year in 13 hours 47 minutes, not a startling performance by any means; I ran pretty well but got horribly lost and delayed by probably 2 hours. My reason for entering again was to put the North Downs Demons to rest.
Since my Forrest Gump run back in August, I had probably run a total of 20 miles. That is not a lot in 4 weeks and certainly not the way I would normally prepare. However, work had become really busy and I needed to place special focus on this. As such, I had little time to do the training I normally do and logistically things were pretty difficult also.

The week building up to race day I was feeling nervous about the whole thing. I felt unfit, unprepared and the whole prospect of running 56 miles of trail from London to Brighton was very daunting. I knew very well that the course was tough and unforgiving and ideally, I needed to be on top form to run well.
I often get a little nervous pre race and I think that on the whole, this is only natural and healthy. This can be used in a positive way and I overcome the doubts by talking myself through my training, my preparation (from clothing to logistics) and my experience from other events. My confidence is then usually restored and I can get on with preparing for the race. This time however, I did not have the comfort of having trained as well as I would have liked and so the doubts were persistently nagging me.

So much so in fact that I was really tempted to record my first ultra marathon DNS (did not start). I reasoned to myself that this would not be as bad as a much feared DNF (did not finish) and would mean that I would also preserve my 100% finish record. It was the easy way out; I could do a long training run on race day and resolve to myself that I would train really hard for my next event to make amends. In addition, 2 days before the race I had a slight cold and somebody in the office mentioned it. My immediate thought was great, another (valid) excuse not running. I was starting to plan for “failure” and I felt really confused; I was disappointed that I ever felt this way in the first place, annoyed at my weakness and self doubt, relieved at times at the prospect of not having to run and also inspired when I thought of the exhilaration taking part in such events brings.

By Thursday afternoon I had to make a decision as Mat Browne was running the race also and he stopping at ours the night before (we live just 3 miles from the start). I told Mat that I was definetly going to run, but if the truth be known, I was still undecided. It wouldn’t matter to Mat either way, he was still OK to stay at over and he would run the race much different (faster) than me and so my not taking part would not affect his race strategy. I actually made the decision myself on Saturday afternoon. In the end I just shut off my brain and started to get my rucksack ready for the race. I shut out any emotions I had and just concentrated on the task at hand, methodically laying each piece of kit out on the dining room table and checking it against my checklist.

Looking back, I think I had probably made my mind subconsciously, but I still needed to go through this process. By the end of it, I had walked and talked myself through the requirements of the day and got myself ready for it mentally.

That done, I set about figuring what I wanted to achieve from this race. My goals were to:

1) Finish…
2) quicker that last year…
3) …which needed to be under the new cut off time of 13 hours
4) Navigate the whole way by myself

I had worked out the timings I needed to reach each checkpoint in order to meet the cut off times:

Target times

Once this was settled I began to feel much better about the event and actually started to look forward to race day.Mat and I left the house at 5:10 am for a 5:30 registration and 6am start. As we pulled out of my road a late night reveller came bounding down the centre of the road with his shirt shoes and socks in hand. I made the obvious comments about his sanity but then thought that actually, out of the three of us, most folk would consider him to be the more “normal”. An hour or so later we were registered and underway. There was a much larger field than last year and it was pretty awesome heading out with 250 others through the streets of North Kent.

Going down into the Downs

About 8 miles down the road just before Keston when I encounted my first challenge of the day. A fellow runner asked me if I had packed energy powder into my bag and I knew instantly what this meant. I stopped and opened my rucksack to a plume of white powder that had covered everything inside. My immediate thought was a negative one; how could I carry on now, with all my food, spare clothing and equipment ruined? I had double bagged the powder as usual, but a rogue bic biro at the bottom of my rucksack had pierced through.

 

I eventually got my head round it and despite not having any liquid fuel for the run; I figured I had enough by way of energy bars, nuts and crisps I had also packed. Because of the sweat, the powder had stuck to my hands, face, arms and legs. A rather nasty looking sludge was also oozing out of the bottom of my rucksack. Fortunately I had no way of actually seeing how bad I looked and to be fair, I had more pressing things to worry about.

I started to feel good again as we left the roads and go onto the trails. We pushed on to the first Checkpoint at Keston and I took the opportunity to have a quick wash, as well as stock up on water and grab a few biscuits on offer.
We had been supplied with map books for the run and I must say that these were excellent. They were printed on a waxy paper, so waterproof and sturdy enough to be carried baton like throughout the whole race. I had a compass around my neck the whole race but only had to use it 3 or 4 times, and then only to get a general sense of the direction I ought to be heading in.
As I had made it my goal, I made a concerted effort to plot and map read the entire course myself.

I have previously relied on others to do this and it is so easy to hand over this responsibility. What I learned very quickly was that whilst map reading does require an extra degree of concentration, it really does add to the experience. I enjoyed interpreting the map so that I knew what was coming up ahead. I would look out for buildings, marked footpaths and other landmarks along the way and enjoy the assurance of passing this along the way. When others were stood at junctions debating over which was the correct path, there were very few occasions where I had to stop myself and half way through the way, I was 100% confident in my abilities.
I know a lot of people are put off by map reading. It has the mystique of a dark art form, like something only a select few individuals are able to do. My simplified approach served me very well;

1) Always know where you are on the map and look for known landmarks along the way. Use these as a guide to plot your position (also see 4 below).
2) If you encounter something that ought not to be there, check around the local vicinity as it may mean you have gone the wrong way (bear in mind however, that parts of the landscape can change).
3) If you are unsure whether you are on the right track, see 2 above. Then quickly work out if it is better to press; Often you are able to get back onto the right path easily enough and it’s not worth going back on yourself, sometimes just to check whether you are right or wrong. Take a compass reading and if you are heading in the right general direction, just keep going.
4) Hold your thumb at the location you are on the map and periodically move your finger along the path you are taking. You can do this pretty easily whilst running and holding a folded map (or map book) in one hand. You will soon become a fairly good judge of your speed of progress and be able to accurately update your position. This will also save time having to locate your path on the map each time you look at it.

I know this is pretty basic advice, but I was staggered at the number of people who went against these basic principles, instead choosing to go on what “felt” like the right direction and ignoring what was on the map. I subsequently developed a deeper understanding of what was going on here, but more about that later.

And so we pushed on through Downe, Tatsfield and over the M25 into Titsey Wood and on to checkpoint 2 at Swaynesland. I was filling up my water bottles when a horde of runners entered the checkpoint area, some 15 or 20 in total. There were lots of curses about lost time and extra mileage and it transpired that the group had gone about 2 miles off course. I learned from Mat afterwards that some of these runners finished very highly in the top ten, and so this was a costly error for them to make. It only takes 1 or 2 people to be “certain” of the right direction and the crowd will usually follow. If you see a crowd of 10 or so runners going off in what you believe to be the wrong direction, you have to be pretty confident you are right before taking another route (but also be willing to accept that you might be wrong).
The time between checkpoints 2 and 3 seemed to take an age. About 5 miles in I ran out of water and was getting a little worried. It had got pretty warm and it would not take long for me to get dehydrated. I made the decision to open the bag and retrieve a banana (as well as being an excellent source of carbs, a banana is 70% water).

The good thing was there was none of the fine nuclear fall out powder from earlier. Instead, everything was coasted in a semi crusty orange gel, including some funky looking bananas. It was a pretty depressing sight and I vowed to not open it again unless I had to. Luckily I had stored quite a bit of kit in separate compartments and these would see me through to the finish.
I had planned to put on fresh socks here at checkpoint 3 near Tablehurst Farm, but decided that the pair I had on were probably just fine. I must have guzzled down two litres of water before filling up my water bottle and pushing on.

We were in deep farming country now, going through Burnthouse Farm, Southpark Farm (I had the theme tune running through my head for about half an hour) Goat Farm and Warren Farm to name a few.
It was along this stretch of the route that I had my only navigational error of note. Coming up through one of the tracks to a farm, our small party continued on a south easterly track instead of bearing off and taking a south westerly one. It did not make much of a difference; probably an extra quarter mile or so, but then something rather odd happened.

Three of us realised the error and took a path leading right back onto the track we needed. The other four runners insisted on continuing in the wrong direction. It was really obvious from the map what the correct route was and it was only then that it dawned on me; that they were intentionally going the “wrong” way. Now I can accept that some people are excellent navigators and I have no problem with the advantage that this gives them over others. On this type of event, a less able runner with excellent map reading skills can come in before a good runner with little or no skills. However, I believe that this skill should only be used to navigate along the correct course as marked out, and not a faster or easier alternative route.

I realised that I had witnessed this happening on a few occasions. Some of the runners I had passed previously were mysteriously in front of me a few miles down the line. I knew I had taken the correct path and if this had happened maybe once or twice then I would think that perhaps they were fortuitous in taking a shorter (incorrect) route. I really do believe that this type of behaviour was limited to a very few runners and the vast majority played a fair game.

The climb up to Blackcap

All this said, I was not about to let anything spoil my day. The sun was out in full force by this point and the South Downs are as beautiful a place as any to spend an English autumn. I reached checkpoint 4 at Horsted Keynes well ahead of the cut off. The next section was the most wooded area of the course, taking in Bineham, Southam and Long Woods until checkpoint 5 at Lower Burrells. It felt good to run in the dappled shade of the trees and the leaves from the trees made the paths softer to run on and I made it to the checkpoint in good time.

The best was certainly left until last. Spectacular views were coupled with some killer climbs through Blackcap and Ashcombe Bottom.
The tough terrain had taken its toll on my feet and I had developed a few painful blisters. I ran this last section in a really haphazard way; At times my feet were alight and I could barely walk and others times I was able to block out the pain and run like I was doing a 10K.

I felt pretty good when I crossed the finish line, down on Brighton beach in around twelve and half hours. I had managed to rack up another ultra and although the time was not great, it was at least a new p.b by over an hour for the course.

At the finish

Already I am working on my next challenge. Sadly I did not get accepted into the Self Transcendence 24 hour Track Race (although I am on standby!) and unless something miraculous happens, I will need to find another event to do in October. Otherwise, my next event in the Pembrokeshire Coast 3 Day Ultra, my first multi stage event, but I am sure I will do something else before then.