At
5:33am I woke suddenly. What the hell was that? It sounded as though
someone had trodden on a cat. The creature cleared its throat and
tried again.
Cock
a doodle DOO.
Really?
REALLY? I ran 39 miles yesterday and now I’m being woken up by a
cockerel that can’t even tell the time? It’s not dawn and some of
us have a full day ahead of us. I pulled my jumper over my head and
tried to get back to sleep. It was no good. Now my bladder had woken
up.
Great.
Wet wellies and a torch and a hunt for the loos. Bloody cockerel.
Bloody bladder. Bloody camping.
Bladder
relieved I dragged myself back into my sleeping bag to wait for the
alarm. Sigh. Why didn’t I book a hotel? Or check for cockerels
before agreeing to camp? Camping had seemed like such a nice idea
when I’d booked this race in my nice warm house.
My
phone bleeped with a message from Angela: “I’m at breakfast.
Where are you?” I dragged myself out of the tent and helped myself
to scrambled eggs and beans for breakfast in the pub. In my pyjamas.
It appeared to be the uniform of choice for the runners at that time
of the morning.
Breakfast
eaten, we registered for day 2. Still in our pyjamas. It is only
7:15am. An unholy hour after a long day running in the rain. Surely
we could have had a bit of a lie in?
I
left Angela and another runner chatting in the pub and went to tape
my feet and de-pyjama myself. I sorted my kit and laid out my snacks
to pack and was halfway through taping my right foot when the siren
went for the race briefing. Huh?
I
hopped out of the tent half-taped and listened in. Angela was there.
I’d have to rely on her to catch any critical info. I hopped back
to the tent and started shoving things panickedly into my ultra vest.
Argh! I’d thought 45 minutes was plenty to de-tent and de-pyjama –
rookie error!!
I
started pulling out tent pegs like a loon, while trying to put
trainers on and doing half a job of everything.
Argh!!
People are leaving for the start!! Pull out tent pegs faster! Angela
came over and we started de-tenting and her husband came over. I
grovelled and he agreed to take the tent down – phew!!
Angela
and I ran and caught the tail end of the walkers leaving down the
road. She laughed at me – “Stop panicking! We have 37 miles to
catch everyone up again.”
She
was right. But I HATE being late.
We
passed the walkers and caught up to the runners. There didn’t seem
to be as many people as before. Maybe the rumours flying around of
the 50% dropout rate for day one had been correct.
My
hat and waterproof jacket were still drenched from the torrential
rain yesterday. There had been no point in bringing them as they were
sodden. I was going to have to rely on the weather forecast – which
is a gamble in this country – and run today’s race in a base
layer and run vest. Unfortunately my overpacking hadn’t included a
wind proof jacket. Sarah – you idiot. I hope this doesn’t come
back to bite you.
CP1
Checkpoint
1 was at Maylandsea but the first section of the run was back to the
sea wall so we took full advantage of being able to get lost while we
could. We took a wrong turning and saw wild peacocks in a field.
Unafraid they looked at us and carried on pecking and sauntering.
Wild peacocks ... |
This
morning was a complete contrast to yesterday. There was mist in the
fields and the sun was promising warmth. It was beautiful. A
good-to-be-alive day. I took photos – I couldn’t resist. The sun
was reflecting in the pools and everything looked so lovely. Even the
broken stiles were something to laugh at as we clambered over them
with our stiff muscles.
As
we arrived at checkpoint one, I needed a loo stop and Vaseline –
things I hadn’t been able to sort due to my late start.
Luckily the
marshals could provide a loo but I wasn’t so lucky with the
Vaseline. My previously-trusty capris, worn during other ultras had
decided they wanted to chew my legs off. Thanks then. Unfortunately
no Vaseline was available. I steeled myself for an unpleasant day 2.
I was 3 miles in ...
The
next section was on the sea wall proper. Long dew covered grass and a
rough track underneath meant our feet were soon squelching and
Angela’s calf started causing her problems. We dug out the rock
tape and she was soon good as new and ready to start onwards again.
Everything was beautiful in the morning sunshine and I couldn’t get
over the contrast to yesterday. Now if only I could convince myself
that my shorts weren’t trying to saw me in half ...
We
could see Maldon in the distance for a long time and in the sunshine,
it looked picturesque and beautiful. It always helps me to see the
destination ... even if that destination is still several miles away
on the mazelike seawall. We could tell we were getting closer now
though as we were sharing the sea wall with dog walkers and families.
Hurdling Labradors and avoiding toddlers took our minds off the sea
wall and the path improved closer to the towns and villages.
As
we came to the park, the runners in front went right. We checked the
route instructions and followed the path around the left of a park
despite a helpful elderly gent telling us to cut across – well
that’s not playing by the rules is it? As we exited, we spotted the
group of runners coming along the sea wall from our right. Looks as
though the instructions gave us the shorter route.
CP2
We
came down the promenade and spotted the now familiar Saltmarsh quill
flag waving in the slight breeze. Angela spotted a couple of her
friends, Laura and Soraya and her husband, David, cheering us in. It
was lovely to meet them and Angela’s husband yet again proved his
loveliness by handing me a massive tub of Vaseline. Angel.
Having
run approximately 50 miles in the last 24 hours I had lost all sense
of shame and grabbed a handful of the greasy gold and liberally
applied it. Relief. Blessed relief. We grabbed our jelly babies (I
did wipe the Vaseline off first!) and I dragged poor Angela away and
on towards our next destination, the road stretching onwards in front
of us.
Angela
was doing brilliantly, she was well past her longest distance run,
but she was still smiling and chatting. There are extreme highs and
lows in ultras as everything is magnified due to the distances. Small
niggles become big ones, a small chafe becomes very uncomfortable
very quickly and forgetting to eat or drink for just an hour can make
for an uncomfortable latter part of a run. However we were here,
running on a beautiful day and we were going to finish this.
As
we ran on the smooth promenade, passing the tall ships and pretty
buildings of Maldon, the church bells rang out from the church on the
hill, encouraging us forwards.
We
had been told to watch out for The Hill which was apparently a ”sharp
climb up from Hythe Quay”. Again this was from the point of view of
someone who lives at sea level. Even for me who lives in flat
Warwickshire, this wasn’t a hill. It was a bump.
View across to Maldon |
We
had a bit of a moment about which road to take but Mark from Tiptree
Runners caught us up and showed us the right way to go. We ran with
him for a short time before he disappeared then caught him back up on
a rocky footpath. He ran this route from work so was very familiar
with it.
CP3
Our
next checkpoint was just 3 miles away. It was a café next to the
water at Heybridge Basin and operated by the world renowned Wilkin &
Son jam makers. Unfortunately I didn’t get to taste any of the
goodies although the ice cream sign had me wishing for a longer stop
but we needed to keep moving.
As
we left the checkpoint, I chatted to another lady leaving ... who I
realised I recognised. It was Lucy who had run the Stour Valley
Marathon in June at the same time as Angela and I. She had pipped me
and Chris to the 2nd
lady position due to her better grasp of LDWA instructions and map
reading and I recognised her from congratulating her after that race.
It was nice to have a quick chat with a familiar face and she carried
on slightly in front of us when I stopped to add a plaster to my
growing collection of plastered sections.
The
next part was 4 miles to Goldhanger and a quiet section with views of
Osea Island and Northey Islands and an endless succession of caravan
parks. It was strange as the caravan parks were separated by massive
houses ... and then more miles of caravans. We’d had a succession
of short stops to checkpoints, with the final 2 sections being the
longest of the day and making up 18 miles between them.
CP4
We
came into the quiet checkpoint knowing that no matter what we would
finish now. There was only 18 miles between us and the finish line of
the 75 mile event. It was a hot day but we were staying hydrated and
making sure we were eating every half an hour.
I
went off to find the loo but Angela proved she could still race and
beat me in there, casually announcing on her way out that she’d
used the last of the loo roll. Thanks buddy. Huff. Luckily a search
unearthed some more and I didn’t have to ask to borrow one of her
socks.
I
came out and started sorting out vest, and daubing more Vaseline on
(it’s ALLLL glamour this ultra running) and noticed Angela had got
herself comfy with a cup of coffee and some sweets on the grass. We
started chatting to Lucy there who announced she was dropping out –
she’d had enough. We very bossily told her she hadn’t and asked
her if she could run 10 miles – the distance to the next
checkpoint. She confirmed she could, so we told her she could run it
then. Poor Lucy didn’t know what had hit her as she got caught up
in the Sarah & Angela whirlwind and we all decided we’d run
together using a 12 minute run, 3 minute walk strategy.
Angela
offered me a sip of her coffee which I gratefully accepted before
nearly spitting it out. She’d been drinking black tea and hadn’t
even realised. Sigh. She’s lucky she’d got me around as snack and
drink tester.
I
was conscious we were spending too long in the checkpoints. We were
running at a reasonable pace, but wasting time stopping and chatting
and scoffing jelly babies rather than grabbing them and carrying on.
We
set off along the sea wall, intent on running the 10 miles to
Tollesbury, the ‘village of the plough and sail’. This section
comprised mainly of sea wall, more seawall and broken stiles. It was
a warm day and I was glad to be wearing just a vest and base layer
under my back pack.
We
passed Kevin, the Stour Valley RD on this section, he’d been
running steadily but the benefit of our run 12 minutes, walk 3
minutes was that we could keep our running paces reasonably
consistent while being able to take advantage of the rest breaks. He
had been in the distance on the sea wall for about an hour (the joy
of running on a zig-zagging wall) before we passed him and had a
quick chat at the same time.
Angela
and Lucy were running together but my running pace was slightly
different to theirs so I carried on at mine and took an extra walk
break while they caught up. I hate having to run at a pace that isn’t
mine and this way I got an extra walk break. It seemed a win. Plus I
could just enjoy the running and I could keep an earphone with music
in while I listened for Angela’s bellowed ‘Walk!’, ‘Run!’
instructions. My other Garmin had died earlier today too so Angela
was on timing duty.
I
owed a debt to Angela’s patience here. The urge to push me off the
sea wall and into the marsh must have been almost overpowering as I
asked her for the 23rd
time that day how far we had to go to the next checkpoint, to run
for, how far we’d been. She restrained herself. However, I suspect
this may only because she was conserving energy.
For
the sake of not being pushed into marshes or beaten to death with my
own trainers, I think it might be time to start saving up for a new
GPS watch.
We
could see the Bradwell power station on the other side of the
estuary. I was glad I hadn’t realised that it was here we would be
running yesterday or I would definitely have called it a day.
Especially if I’d known the other side was EXACTLY THE SAME.
But
that I’d have less snacks left.
We
could see the town of Tollesbury as we came towards it and it was
exhiliarating knowing that we were nearly at the very last
checkpoint. The paths became choked with dog walkers and families and
we passed wooden houses on our left and what the instructions called
an outdoor pool, but anyone else would have called a pond. We were on
a smooth tarmac path winding down to the last checkpoint. Angela
wanted to walk it but I checked with her and she was ok with me
running into this one to get my water bladder refilled and jelly baby
stash rejellied.
Angela’s
husband had a pint which my beer radar quickly noticed. It smelled
amazing. I decided we needed to finish quickly and get our own.
CP5
The
marshals were pulling people off course and getting them checked by
the paramedics due to sunstroke and we were warned not to proceed if
we weren’t 100% as the difficulty of getting help to injured or ill
runners on these sections would be high. What did they have out
there? Bear traps?
We
picked up our final snacks and grabbed our maps for the very last
section of Saltmarsh 75. Lucy had completely overcome her down patch
at the last checkpoint and was good to run. I could sympathise as had
had the same thing on Day one. I dragged Angela and Lucy out of the
checkpoint (I swear the jelly babies are magnetic) and we were onto
our last section.
The
last section was virtually identical to the 13 miles desolate stage
on day 1. But with one difference. When we completed this 9 miles we
could sit down. And not get up. And more importantly NOT have to run
38 miles the next day.
There
were still a lot of stiles to climb over, but now Angela was making
funny noises as she climbed over these and when started running after
a break. I very kindly took a photo of her to remind her of how much
she enjoyed these stiles. I’m nice like that.
This
section also continued the 2-day theme of sea wall, more seawall and
broken stiles. It was very desolate with the grassy mound winding
between the marsh and the sea. It was difficult to see where our
final destination was and there were no signs of life. We weren’t
even seeing any other runners now and had no ideas whether we were
last or first. There had been teams of relay runners flying past on
both days early on but we hadn’t seen other runners for a long time
now.
Despite
the solitude and monotony of the surroundings, I was on a high. I
broke open the sweets and chocolate coffee beans and started
shovelling them into my mouth and dancing to my music while trotting
along.
Lucy
nudged Angela. “Is she always like this or is it the sugar?”
Angela shrugged. “Think she’s always like this.”
We
were on 70 miles and my legs had finally woken up. I had snacks, the
sun was shining, nothing hurt and in about 5 miles I’d be at the
final checkpoint and there would be coffee there.
Life
was good.
A
splash of white against the dark water and a pair of swans in the
inlet moved serenely as we trotted through the Tollesbury Wick and
Old Hall Marshes on the sea wall above them. We were nearly finished.
Less than 5 miles of the route had been on surfaced paths - the rest
had been grassed paths and across fields and it had been hard.
Despite the flatness of the route, it had been a tough run.
We
could see the sea wall winding on ahead of us, broken only by
occasional stiles and we could see some people. It was Lucy’s
family! They had come to run her into the finish. What a wonderful
thing to do. Lucy’s husband had started the run with her and would
now be finishing it with her, but as Lucy said, he just missed out
the 50 miles in the middle.
Angela
and I left her with her family and ran on towards the finish. And the
sea wall ended.
It
ENDED.
We
ran down a path through a ploughed field, my mouth was still running
too and I told Angela I would be practising my finish photo and doing
‘this’ (waving my ‘jazz hands’) and ‘this’ (‘jumping in
the air’) and while looking back and chatting, my finish photo was
taken ... 200m before the finish line.
Bugger.
Never
mind. We had seen the village hall which was the finish and I asked
Angela if she wanted to run it in together with a final push. Angela
didn’t and had spotted her husband by the finish. I left them
together and ran it in.
I
was done.
Angela
arrived shortly after and we had the biggest hug. We’d made it
through 2 tough days and come through it. Angela was smiling through
her tears. She had done so well and I was so proud to run her first
ultra with her.
Lucy
and her family came in to big cheers from us all and more hugs all
round. We’d all finished a 75 mile run, survived sideways rain,
resisted temptation of 5am cockerel murder, restrained ourselves from
pushing friends into ditches after their Garmins conked out and made
new friends.
And
now there was a massive jacket potato, a medal and multiple cups of
coffee waiting for us.
This has been a successful weekend.
Medal (Pic) |
Day 2: 37.73mi
Total: 76.69 miles
Final
distances: 38.96 & 37.73mi
Place: 3rd
lady
Ooft third lady! Impressed. Did you enjoy it in the end?
ReplyDeleteI REALLY enjoyed the finish! The marshals were fab and I had the biggest baked potato known to man with piles of cheddar - delicious!! :)
DeleteWell done Sarah, that's some distance and a tough challenge :)
ReplyDeleteThanks Paul! I definitely found it a challenge! Am never underestimating a course without hills again!! :)
DeleteLoved your honest and witty account of your Saltmarsh 75 experience! I am running it this year (my first ultra), at least I know what to expect now!
ReplyDeleteGood luck! The 2nd day really was beautiful! Are you camping? Don't forget your earplugs!! :)
Delete