I'm milling about on the start line and ready to go. There are a considerably bigger group of people here than ther were at the Suffolk event, but I see that as a good thing. More company. It was a complete mission to get here yesterday and quite stressful with missed connections and a twelve hour journey so I'm glad to finally be getting going at last and am keen for the gun.
A couple of other guys chatting to each other look at me as I walk past them and laugh. I look up, wondering why, and laugh myself. We're all wearing exactly the same jacket. Theirs look a bit nicer and less likely they've been through the wars albeit.
We listen to the briefing and it's explained that there is a gate just around the corner that is going to bottleneck things so I decide I'm going to try to get through quickly. So much for hanging back and taking it easy like I was planning on doing. The last race didn't go as successful as I'd hoped, despite giving it everything, so I'm a bit nervous about how it's going to go today.
Anyway, enough of that, we're herded over to the start line as its time to go. It looks like the weather is going to hold out for us which is great as well, but it also looks quite muddy in the field ahead of us.
After a countdown we're away and about ten people are absolutely gunning for it so despite being at the front on the line I decide not to chase as I'm not too keen on ruining myself with a sprint at the very start of the race.
I settle in behind a few others, dodging puddles and around in the next field there is indeed a small gate to get through. I'm still near enough to the front that I don't have to wait long and I'm barreling down the other side of the farm track, still trying to keep up with what to me feels close to half marathon pace ahead.
As expected, it is very muddy and slippery so is quite a challenge to stay upright when going at this speed so I'm focused pretty firmly on my every footfall. We're going steadily downhill toward the coastline but soon enough take a right turn to stay on the hill above and follow the coast north.
As the field begins to spread out a little bit more we get to our first flat and solid piece of ground so I finally afford myself a glance backward at the rolling hills on the coast. It's breathtaking and already considerably nicer than Suffolk a few weeks ago.
It stays like this, undulating, for quite a while. Whilst we're still going at what I consider to be quite a fast pace it feels like I've settled a little more and not like I'm quite as out of breath. I decide to just go with it for now and when it gets a bit much I'll slow it back and let people pass me.
For some reason I suddenly feel quite tired. I'm only a couple of kilometres into the race but inexplicably feel like I can't be bothered and should just call it a day and not bother. My legs do feel a bit sore and I think I've definitely I strained this week but I still shouldn't be feeling like this this early on. I stay with it though, knowing that this is normal with a daunting ultra ahead and that I'll come around soon enough.
Soon enough I hear some laughing from behind me and someone say that it was bound to happen. I turn around and there are the two fellows with the same jacket. I laugh and start chatting to them briefly, but we hit a hill section they seem keen on so I let them go on ahead.
We head around a corner and onto a village road and I quickly realise that we've actually done a small loop and are now back at the bottom of the town of Rhossili. I pass a pub and wonder if they might be open for dinner later. I genuinely hope so.
Yesterday I managed to miss my train to the bus station by so small a time I literally saw it leaving the platform as I ran up. This triggered a series of unfortunate events whereby I went to the coach station in the vague hope it might be running late. As I arrived I ask at the desk and it turns out that's only just left, but I can pay a fiver and get on the next one to Cardiff then make my way from there. Better than the forty five quid for a train ticket so I do that. At Cardiff I pay another nine quid for a train ticket the rest of the way to Swansea, and from there rush to catch the bus the rest of the way to Rhossili.
The problem is I was rushing so much to get there that I didn't pick up dinner and it's seven o'clock by the time I get there. Rhossili is a very tiny town so nothing is open so I desperately walk over to the next town an hour away and thankfully find something open. I walk in and it turns out the place is reserved for the local motorbike gang rally, but the pub next door is open, also filled entirely with bikers. I hide away in the corner and eat some less than tasty floury pasta then scuttle on my way as a couple of people are giving me funny looks. Definitely still a better result than the 9bar I would have had to have for dinner if I hadn't found somewhere.
Instead I had that and another protein bar for breakfast on my way this morning after a pretty good sleep in the tent with the rain hammering down on the walls. As I pass the pub today though I hope this will be open later for me to get some dinner instead of having to go back to the other town ages away.
We take a turn out of the town and a rather steep hill looms ahead. I grin, go through the gate and tackle it straight on. This is what I came here for.
It's quite a steep hill but not too muddy because of it and the locals have put some stones down and made foothold steps in the hillside so it's not too bad to climb. A few guys around me are groaning but I'm quite enjoying it as I really like hills. I push myself off each step with my hands on my thighs and it makes it a little easier each one.
In the space of a kilometre I've climbed one hundred and twenty metres so as I crest the hill it feels like I'm really getting somewhere. There is a stunning view of Rhossili bay over the other side, currently one of the top ten beaches in the world and it really is quite lovely.
It's a bit windy up here though and I still have quite a long way to go so I don't dally with admiring the view for too long. It's now a nice downhill section that's not too steep but enough to get a bit of pace up. My funk from earlier seems to have gone so I'm hoping it will stay away. Downhills always make me feel better.
We turn down a steeper section and as I pick up a bit of speed I look and notice just how steep it is. I'm looking down a gradient of, at a guess, twenty percent. All of it seems to be covered in hidden bumps, slippery rocks and deep puddles. Uh oh. I still keep ongoing down at pace, but keep an eye on those ahead and the lines they are taking. Some are gingerly edging down and others are zigzagging to try to go at a less steep pace.
I go straight down and just plant each foot as solidly as I can. It works quite well until I step on a slippery bit and slide out. My feet are suddenly horizontal to my chest, I put my hands down and slam my arse into a puddle like a really unkempt breakdancer with no rhythm. I emit a grunt from my lips and within a second am on my feet again.
Another runner asks if I'm okay. I laugh and tell him the puddle broke my fall. The next bit is incredibly slippery with small rivulets running down the hillside along with us. I keep my pace the same and luckily don't fall over again before I reach the bottom. Another runner tells me he fell over five times so it sounds like I got off lucky.
As the ground levels out again I reach checkpoint one, dib my timing chip, grab a few jelly babies and carry on my way. There's still a bit more downhill but this time on pavement which means the pace can go up as I pass Hillend caravan park.
There is an element of dodging around some sand dunes and then I'm down onto the beach proper. This is the bay that has apparently been named among the top ten in the world and it definitely is nice. Having seen it in the distance from quite far away I'd been expecting that it was going to be quite gruelling but in reality the tide is deep, meaning there is quite a lot of hard sand and it's fairly easy going although there is a brisk wind coming in off the sea, although that was the same for all the other sections so far so I guess will be a theme for the day.
The beach itself is five kilometres long but as we went the long way over the hill we only spend about one of them running on it until we reach the craggy rocks jutting out from the coast, a tiny archipelago of rocks. We reach the other end of the beach and head back up onto the dunes around to the north side of the Gower peninsula.
We stay just above the shore here and there is an undulating walkway made of wooden slats. I feel confident moving along them and try to take a quick photo but as I'm doing so slip on one of the slats and nearly end up on my backside sliding down to the beach. Luckily, I right and scold myself for being complacent. The shoes I'm wearing are American so not made for as much wet and slippery terrain as we have in Britain. which means I should pay more attention when running on slippery sticks.
It's a nice view from here down to the waves crashing below and the craggy outcrop now behind us. We slowly descend back to sea level to another bay and through another caravan park before taking a right back inland once more.
Now we begin to slowly ascend back up the hill. I've a rough idea of he route from the race briefing and know that this is the section whereby we are basically going to be crossing right over the peninsula to rejoin the coast on the other side and come all the way around again.
There are still quite a lot of people around me and I get chatting to one guy for a couple of kilometres which is good to take my mind off the running briefly. I also notice him eating a gel which reminds me I need to as well. I check my GPS and we are eleven and a half kilometres in so its definitely time I put some fuel in. My plan is one gel every ten kilometres roughly so I'm definitely due.
We keep going up some hills and across fields. The same handful of people pass then get passed by me. Some are better at uphill walking, others pick up on the flat. One guy in minimal footwear and short shorts seems to be gunning like the clappers but has passed me about five times so I wonder if he is just caning it for five or ten minutes at a time then taking a break. It's as if he's pacing an ultra like a fell runner. But hey, if it works for him then all good.
We start heading downhill again then take a sharp hill down. Suddenly everyone stops and I can see another group further down looking very confused. Slowly a line back up the hill to me get more and more confused. Now I'm confused.
Word filters back that we've ended up on the half marathon route. We're all really pissed off that none of us noticed and just followed whoever was at the front and took us the wrong way in the first place. We all start heading back up the hill and I hear someone say 'half a mile'. I'm not sure what he's basing that on though and get out my phone to check the map.
Everyone else starts to follow another line across the hillside but I don't want to just trust that's tight and end up in the same position again. Sure enough, when I get the map up I see they're not going the right way at all and the correct route is much further up the hill. I take a line up there and a couple of others follow me as they can see I'm positive it's right to rejoin the route.
The problem is, we can rejoin the route at a point not too far away, but we'll be cutting out quite a large chunk. As far as I can tell, we'll start cover roughly the same distance so aren't cutting corners (although it's obviously hard to tell exactly). If there's a checkpoint somewhere in that section then we could have problems getting our results later down the line.
I voice this concern but no one else seems all that bothered and I notice there is now a line of fifteen or twenty people all following my route, for better or worse. I figure at the absolute worst we all miss a checkpoint but there are about two groups of a similar size so it's not like thirty or forty of us are going to get disqualified for something like this. Not to mention the fact that all of us missed the signage so it can't have been as prominent as needed.
We turn down another path that I know will take us to a corner and rejoin the correct route and eventually meet some of the other group coming up a different line so it looks like whoever is leading them has had a similar idea. We rejoin the correct line and I must say its a relief, although I'm still panicky about the potential checkpoint missed.
Everyone around me is still quite chirpy and we keep chatting as we head into a downhill section back off this part of the hills until we go through some bushes and across a puddle of mud to a checkpoint. I dib my chip in, wondering if I'm about to have to go all the way back then see CP2 written on the machine and realise we've not missed one. It's a relief but sti a shame not to have done the last section as intended.
The route now carries on up undulating hills. Normally I like to try to walk hills but everyone else just seems to be going for it and it is quite a small gradient so I still keep running for a fair bit of it as well. In fact, it turns out that this hill just wants to keep on giving.
The terrain stays exactly the same for quite some time. Even ground, rough trails with mud and all uphill. I'm not actually minding it too much. It's a similar gradient to that which I'm used to from my training, so it's just a matter of continuing the plod upwards. Forty minutes later I've covered another five kilometres and climbed a hundred and sixty five metres as I finally reach the top and am rewarded with a stunning view of yet another beach.
After such a lengthy time climbing, I let my legs open up a little as I come down the other side and aim towards the beach. As it was going up, it's pretty much a steady downhill, although a fair bit shorter and steeper, which is just fine by me.
Eventually I reach the bottom of the hill, find a checkpoint where I refill my water for the first time, grab a fair few more jelly babies and a small mouthful of crisps then continue on my merry way through Oxwich down past some trees, over a bridge traversing a small inlet and onto Oxwich beach.
After a lengthy uphill, a shorter but no less fun downhill, it's now time for a steady flat section along the beach. As before, it's a bit windy although it's quite a nice breeze as the sun is now out. Sort of. I pass some police on horses parading up the beach and some kite surfers as I teadily make my way down the beach.
As I've not really got to be watching where I'm going at the moment it's a good chance to go through a mental checklist and see how I'm feeling overall. Truth be told, I actually feel alright. I'm about twenty seven kilometres into the race, so somewhere around halfway, and I still feel like I've got a lot of nice left in me. Quite a change from how I felt in Suffolk only three weeks ago, where I was shattered after only a few kilometres.
This gives me a bit of a boost as I approach the far end of the beach, go round a barrier and head back into the trees. There are a few of us bunched together here as the bush we're going through is incredibly steep. It has steps and is easy enough to go up, but it's more the fact that we're doing it after an extended spell at a faster pace that tires us all out.
We reach the top and it's straight down the other side, looking pretty much the same, with steps easy enough but a bit slippery so we still need to go a bit easy and carefully. After a while we reach the coastline again as we come out the other side of the trees of Oxwich Woods. It was nice to go back under a canopy, having been mostly out in the open today, but I'm definitely enjoying the variation today, with a lot of different sections with different types of terrain.
I carry on around the headland and pretty much hug the coast the whole way. After a kilometre or two I come out onto an open field just beside the waves. It's a really flat section, with hills to the right and the waves and rocks to the left. It also looks like it goes on for quite a while, which I'm happy with as I can just admire nature around me.
A quick detour up into the town of Slade for another checkpoint where the Marshall howls with laughter at my ridiculous shorts and I'm straight away on my way giggling as well. This time I head back down towards the beach at Port Eynon and actually go along it. The sand is still hard and I'm loving being on my third beach of the day here. The sun is still nearly threatening to come out which makes for a lovely blue sky as I plod on.
At the end there are more stones and the beach becomes a bit more pebbly, but as I round the local surf shop there is a large group of people shouting out congratulations which is great. Another one points out how much she loves my shorts so again I head on my way giggling.
I'm at another headland so take a small detour to cross to the other side and again follow the coastal path just above the beach. Soon enough I see in the distance a beautiful little bay, reminding me of Lulworth cove where the next race is to be held and I'm really looking forward to.
This one is much smaller and as I get close to it I see there are a number of other people with the same idea who are killing about and taking photos. Nearer to the other side I stop to take some myself and realise there is a couple walking so get them to take one of me here too. I have a nice little chat with them as they're quite friendly then potter along around the other side of the bay.
I'm now about forty kilometres into this thing and still feelng like I have quite a lot of energy left. My gel every ten kilometre strategy is working well so I've now got one left for around the fifth mark and a spare for a boost just before the finish.
The next five kilometres is spent just following along the coast line along the coast path of varying terrain. As we're getting close to the marathon point I keep looking to the side to see if I can see the town of Rhossili and get a gauge of how many headlands I need to cross but can't seem to see it.
At this point a group of a few others all catch up together so we all end up chatting for quite a while all the rest of the way through to Rhossili, which I realise was actually a little more inland than I was looking. I see the one mile to go sign and am a bit confused as I can see the finish flags about a hundred metres away, but then we go zigzagging around and it makes a bit more sense.
Some of the guys I recognise from various points and conversations through the day and everyone is in really good spirits. I'm still spending most of my time saying how much I'm enjoying the scenery around here. After a while we get to the sign pointing to the finish with a tub of water. Most of us fill up awkwardly and as that takes some time, we spread out as we leave again and the group is broken up.
Only ten kilometres to go. Into the business end of this and I'm feeling quite good, hoping it will stay that way. I again take the nice little detour around the rather large headland and head back up toward Rhossili, I take a left and again go past the main gravel coastal path, this time passing quite a few people wearing the same motorcycle leathers from the bar last night, which brings a grin to my face.
I go into the town again and pass the pub again and it now looks open and ready for business, which I'm definitely pleased about. Then it's through a gate and I'm staring into the maw of the big hill. The last kilometre or so have really taken quite a bit out of me and I'm finally starting to feel tired but this is quite good timing as hills definitely tire out different muscles.
Not much for it then, best get back to it. Hands on thighs I start plugging into it and hiking up the hill. I take it in fairly measured efforts so that its constant and I have the energy to see it through to the end and soon enough I'm at the top of the first part. The sun is now definitely out and shining, if not exactly warm. I pass some donkeys and stop for a photo for Jess as she likes donkeys for some reason...
Up the second section and it's that little bit steeper, but again is definitely worth it when you see the view from the top. I crest over the top and start an easy canter over the other side. It's quite nice that the downhill starts off fairly easy as it gives you a chance to catch your breath and soon enough I'm feeling good again. Much better than I did at the bottom of the hill. Not sure how I managed that but hey, I'll take it.
I cruise down and the ground is definitely less muddy than it was a few hours ago so I'm feeling more confident. I turn left and now am into the really steep and technical section again. This, unfortunately, is on the lee side so hasn't had the sun drying it out. This means it's just as muddy, if not more, than it was earlier in the day. Bugger.
I figure I'm near the end, though, so I'm going to have fun. I tackle it with probably more speed than this morning as there is no one before or behind me that I need to worry about so I can just focus on dodging puddles, landing on flat ground, not slipping and attempting to keep my feet dry.
Sadly I'm not that competent to do all those things at once. I plant my foot down into a puddle, it slips out, I'm suddenly on my arse and my arse is moving down the hill collecting mud. Hot damn. Luckily I skid to a stop about five metres down, get up curse myself and carry on my way.
Twenty seconds later I do exactly the same thing, this time scaring my shin open on a rock as I slide down on my side. I also go a little bit further with a little less control and notice myself sliding around so I'm sliding down with my body almost horizontal. Lucky I've been doing all that yoga lately, eh?
I pick myself up and have to laugh as I now gingerly go the rest of the way down to the bottom of the field and through some dead gorse bushes. Then I'm out onto a path and there's no sign. That's funny, there's usually a sign. I surmise I must have gone the wrong way down the hill after collecting myself up. Left or right? It's pot luck but I've a feeling right is correct so I head up there and find that I am correct almost straight away as I see the flags of the checkpoint.
I run up and dib my chip with a jovial joke about the slipping and they're grinning that I've come from the wrong way. I'm told it's only a couple of miles until the end which is great news as it felt like that last bit was a bit epic and that I've likely got further than halfway around the ten kilometre route.
I thank them and head off down toward the gate and they shout I'm going the wrong way and need to go off back around the base of the hill I've just come down. Lucky I hear them as I'd be doing the half marathon route otherwise...
As I'm now on the lee side of the hill it's definitely wetter here so it makes it even less of a bother that I fell over as it feels like no matter what I'm going to be getting soaked over this next section. There is a guy up ahead who doesn't seem to be too happy and taking a few walking breaks but just as I see him I'm passed by another runner who looks to be on a mission so I don't bother trying to keep up. I want to enjoy this last section whilst still keeping an okay pace up.
There is actually quite a lot of mud around here so it's quite tricky to stay upright and nigh on impossible to keep up a running pace without falling over so I follow the lead of the guy wavering ahead and just run the easier sections and fast hike the rest. It keeps my pace up fairly well and my spirits are still high as I'm climbing steadily.
Eventually we turn around to a flatter section and I decide to give it some juice. I pick up to a running pace and notice a woman running behind me looking like she is trying to catch me. I'm feeling okay and not that competitive so I decide I'll try to pass the guy ahead and not try too hard to stay ahead of the one behind as she really looks to be on a mission.
I'm feeling ace though and just after I pass him I see the one mile to go sign and decide to give it a bit more. Just after I crest the final hill and stare down into a juicy downhill.
I frigging love downhills.
Most of the time I can't really came it down them, although I have been a bit today, but when there is a hill at the end of a race I absolutely love l
hammering it down them. So I open up the choke and start to fly. It's adorably fun and just solid enough for me not to slip and to pick up a bit of pace so I really start to open up.
I'm almost disappointed when I reach a road and know I'm just about to head into the village and thus, the end of my journey. I'm still feeling jubilant though, so decide to give it some throttle. The girl who had got so close to passing me I could see her gritted teeth is now a fair bit further back and I just let my legs stretch out and enjoy the fast descent to the main village hall.
A bit of confusion on where to go and I'm going down the path next to the field, through the gate and over the mud-field to a round of applause and a quick run to the finish with a big ol' grin beaming out. My GPS ran out of battery at the last checkpoint so I collect my time and am pleased to see I was just under seven hours.
The girl finishes a minute or so behind me and the other fellow finishes in a group of three in a spring finish a couple more minutes further, which is surprisingly fast considering. As I'm washing off my shoes and chatting to others I'm told that the last section was nearly three miles according to someone else's Garmin, but he also says he clocks the whole thing at twenty seven which seems a bit too long to me [when I guesstimate later it looks closer to the thirty four or five advertised to me] but no matter what the distance it was a hell of a nice day out and congratulations all around.
I then have the worry of finding some food but luckily don't have to go back to biker heaven and instead go to the surfer's cafe up the road for a big plate of chili con carne and a panini for later. Another would be competitor joins me for a chat as he missed the race but still came down and is waiting for the bus back to Swansea.
I then have the dubious pleasure of hearing back to the tent, attempting to clean up (I sneak into the disabled bathroom and it's a damn guilty luxury) then slowly drift off to sleep before the big mission home.
I catch a taxi back to Swansea and it's only at this point that I realise I've completely booked my tickets for the wrong dates weeks ago back in October. I have no idea how best to get back but decide to try to blag my way onto the next bus. I tell the driver I'm on the later bus and ask if he has space. He does but is switching drivers at Cardiff so I may get kicked off there. Cardiff is closer so I try my luck...and end up staying on all the way to London. A lucky fluke there!
Eventually I get home and am pretty shattered from all the travelling so it's nice to finally get a night in my own bed. Now to get ready for the next one in Dorset...
The tracking is here if anyone's interested. It's missing the last section but was basically a matter of joining the dots:
