After catching an overnight Megabus on Thursday and getting zero sleep due to a woman getting on who had tactically gone to the pub and laid on the parfum eau de cheapvodka a little too strongly I was feeling nauseous when I arrived to Newcastle at four in the morning. Not quite as easy a ride as I had to the last race in South Devon. I then caught a bus to Morpeth before having a wander around and trying to keep myself awake. Next stop was Warkworth for a couple of hours to see the castle. It wasn't open so I had to make do with taking photos outside then going and sitting on the beach as a Billy Nomates. It wasn't actually that bad though as I took my headphones out, put my phone away and took half an hour to just stare out into middle distance. Do you remember that? What we used to do before we got these devices that distract us twenty four seven with utter tripe? I'd forgotten, so it was a struggle to remember how, but I managed it and blow me if I didn't enjoy it for a bit. Before long though I had to catch the final bus up to Bamburgh.
I checked into my bed and breakfast which reminded me a little of the house in the Amityville Horror. Lots of books and crannies and weird old ornaments around. The owner was of a similar disposition so I quickly paid and hid in the room determined not to speak to her again.
Instead I went up and walked around Bamburgh Castle, which I think I can safely say is the most interesting castle I've seen yet. And I bloody love a good castle so have seen a few. All the displays are on show rather than behind glass and you get a real feel for what it would have been like living here in medieval times. There's also a lot of history from the Plantagenet era here which interests me, though possibly not anybody else so I won't go on about it...
Fast forward to the next morning and I'm stood in the same spot registering for the race. I've had to get up early after a solid ten hour sleep to make up for the night before, as straight after registration we all hop on a bus and get taken to Alnwick Castle. The one where Harry Potter was filmed if you're interested in that sort of thing, which I'm not sadly.
We kill about here for a few minutes getting cold whilst the briefing is happening. There's a couple of minutes next to go for a quick wee overlooking said castle then we're off.
It straight down a field and I can't help myself from glancing back at the castle a few times as it is rather an imposing one. I then keep chatting with the girl who was sat next to me on the bus and has done a couple of similar races to me. We make our way through a few more fields and for once there's quite a bit of space so little need for everyone to jostle for places as we all set our individual rhythms. It's quite a nice start to the day. Ever so slightly downhill and a nice easy trial so the pace is set relatively quickly. After a kilometre or so the girl decides to stop for something so I carry on pottering along on my own.
I follow along the side of a stream for a while, go through some woods, across more fields and up and down a couple of bumps here or there.
There's a road crossing over a main road then I'm back into some other fields until I each another relatively busy road and this time am marshalled directly down it. It's a little uphill but then around the corner a couple of minutes later there is another marshal who directs me off down a farm road.
At the briefing we were told explicitly that part of the consent for the race is that we would walk over this road so myself and another chap do this. I make a comment about it and we get talking. He's brought his whole family up to Bamburgh from Yorkshire for the week so is hoping he'll see them on the beach later on today. It's his longest run ever but with a young family he's not sure if he'll enter that many more for a while. We carry on through some slightly undulating fields then go under a pretty impressive rail bridge. It's quite a behemoth.
We then hop along to the sleepy village of Bilton before going onto the main road and over the Aln river into the slightly bigger town of awl Alnmouth.
It's here where we hit the first checkpoint and also the coastline we'll be following for the rest of the day. I quickly grab a bit of water and a handful of jelly babies but the guy I was running with has already scooted off. I catch him again but he's really going for it up a slight incline so once I get to the top I decide to let him carry on on his own. Earlier at the rail bridge both of us mentioned it was quite warm and we hadn't expected it. We both said it would be better to wait until we're at the coast then decide based on winds whether to layer down. Now that I'm here there is no wind and the sun, believe it or not in February, is out. I stop and take off my waterproof.
There's now a decent lengthed section along the beach which is quite nice when the sun is out. We stay up on the path just above the sand too so it's not too technical.
I plod along here for a while, then as I go through a gate another fellow pops up and says hello so we get chatting. He's interested to find out about all the other races I've been doing and how this one compares. It's his first ultra so he's feeling fairly nervous but we plod along happily for a while.
This section is quite straightforward, indeed the rest of the whole way is straightforward, as it's just a matter of keeping going with the sea on our right. We dip in and out of little bays and along fields and golf courses and as before we continue keeping the pace relatively quick.
Soon enough we reach checkpoint two and again I fill up and grab a few crisps and a custard cream before we carry on along. Directly after the checkpoint is the town of Craster, where we see lines of runners walking along up to the half marathon start line. A couple of women shout out that we look too fresh and I realise that after having already done a half marathon I actually am feeling remarkably good.
We go through an English Heritage gate and pass by the race briefing going on. A couple of people turn around and cheer us on. It's a lot of open space around here but half a kilometre or so along I can see Dunstanburgh Castle.
It's pretty impressive looking with open land all around making it seem so much more unspoiled. We spent the next few minutes slowly approaching it and joke that I should get my English Heritage card out of my bag and pop in to have a look around. And yes, I'm sad enough to have an Englsh Heritage card. So what?
I decide against going into the castle though as I really am still feeling quite surprised at how fatigued I don't feel and the pace I seem to be managing to hold as it seems quite quick for me. As we go past the castle a drone pops up and flies around taking footage of us. I joke that it's the one race where I've not done my hair.
I stop a couple of times to take photos then we're off again on the other open land the opposing side of the castle. We go through a gate and my new Scottish friend tells me to feel free to carry on. I say I'm fine with the pace so it sounds like neither of us are holding each other up. We get to the next gate and he starts to look like he's really struggling so I decide the polite thing to do is move on so he doesn't feel pressured to keep a certain pace.
I do exactly that and the first of the half marathon runners then come through. They don't seem to be going terribly fast which surprises me, but there are a lot of them. Hundreds in fact. Right at this point my ITB decides to give me grief. I had wondered if this may happen as it seems to be worse with the quicker pace on flatter courses. And this one has been pretty damn flat. It starts to become quite a sharp pain.
I become really worried all of a sudden. Is this how the series is going to end for me? Am I going to hobble through the next few kilometres then drop out in misery? I stop at the side of a golf course and start doing some stretches. The one that always seems to help the most is basically crossing my legs an bending over in a diagonal direction, pointing my arse back at all and sundry.
There are a lot of golfers looking extremely confused at the runner with Hawaiian shorts and a trapper hat doing weird contortions on their green. There are also several hundred half marathon runners streaming past giving me strange glares and wondering why someone is stopping after only a kilometre or so of the race. I ignore them all and keep stretching for a couple of minutes.
I then set off gingerly running again at a fairly slow speed. The first few steps are always even more painful than before the stretches as the sore muscles have been engaged, but after a couple of minutes it seems to subside a little. Fingers crossed it stays that way. A few minutes later it is feeling better, but it could of course flare up again at any point and its that that worries me the most, as it did a moment ago. I put it out of my mind for now and hope for the best.
The stream of half marathon runners is starting to get to a point where I can keep up with them almost, which makes it a bit less of a pain in the arse to let people past all the time, though most of the path is wide enough to allow this. And I definitely ain't that keen to step aside to let several hundred of them through.
After a couple of bottlenecks I find myself bopping along down to the beach where I pass the third checkpoint and carry on my merry way. I've now settled into a pace with a few others around me, who I leapfrog back and forth with for a bit.
I start chatting to a woman next to me as we can see the ten kilometre flags up ahead and I'm wondering if I'm seeing it right as I would have thought they would have started long ago. Sure enough as we approach the flag in the distance, just before we reach them they all set off at pace.
We stay just behind them and both mention we're pleased to have been behind the start to avoid the clashing paces. She's running the half having downgraded due to injury and it turns out she was one of the people I passed right at the end of the Dorset ultra; meaning she was unfortunately about five minutes over the cut off to do the final lap. She'd recognised me from my hideous shorts. It was dark the first time she saw them. So I guess they really must have stood out.
We reach the end of the beach and go up and over some rocks book ending the beach to the town of Beadnell. We both comment on how nice and quaint the little harbour here is. This then follows along to Seahouses and I find that I'm still keeping pace with her, which is great for keeping my pace up and not letting it flag at this later point as I begin to get complacent.
That said, I'm starting to feel the fact that she's doing the half and I'm nearly a full marathon into this thing so as we're heading up a small rise on pavement into Seahouses, I tell her I'll let her carry on ahead and don't want to hold her up as I want to ease off the pace a little. We wish each other well and she carries on.
I go around a little path section up on the dunes above Seahouses, now keeping pace with a few of the ten kilometre runners nearer the back of the field. I head back down the dunes to the beach and over to the fourth checkpoint. I grab a cup of water and a few crisps but don't really feel like too much here as I know it's only five kilometres to the finish of the marathon and then a further ten until the finish of the ultra, so know I have enough in my bag if I need it rather than taking time at the aid station. I thank the marshals and head along the beach.
I look ahead and there is a very long line of runners along a very long stretch of beach. They disappear into the distance around a corner of the beach so I'm unsure how much longer this section will be, but it's all on hard packed sand so I'm okay with it. The hardest part of sections like this is seeing the beach go off into the distance and the feeling that you're getting nowhere. But I know each step takes me that little bit closer so play a mental game with myself to ignore my eyes and follow my brain telling me to just plod on and enjoy it. Plus every now and again I get a glimpse of Bamburgh Castle in the distance which helps spur me on.
So I do. It's interesting now being mixed in properly with people of all the other distances and seeing how fresh some people are looking and how decidedly I fresh others look. Hopefully I'm in the first camp and I try my best to keep a grin going; getting the odd one back from others so hopefully I think I am.
The beach continues on for what seems an interminable length of time. I pass some people, others pass me. At one point I pass a kid doing the ten kilometre race. He's feeling pretty knackered and says his Dad came up with the idea that he should run this race, as he's doing the half himself. The kid is thirteen it turns out so fair play to him. He sees my race number and that I'm doing the ultra and just keeps repeating that it's a really really long way. I laugh and tell him it's all in the head and not actually as hard as it sounds, especially if you're slow like I am.
I potter along and at a set of rocks take a step up then decide to stop to stretch for a second as I've been going quite a while nonstop. I slowly squat down to stretch my leg muscles. A look of euphoria comes over my face as all my leg muscles start to get a wonderful tingly feeling. I say a look of euphoria. It's probably more like a lol that I've wet and pants and damned if I care. Mind you, the squat I'm in would suggest more than wetting my pants.
Either way the kid passes me again, then a walker comes up behind me and asks if I'm okay. I tell her I'm just stretching then walk along with her for a minute or so. She tells me she has decided to walk due to injury, but still seems to be keeping a pretty quick pace. After letting my legs get used to moving again after the stretch, I carry on down the beach.
Another while passes by and I pass the kid again. I tell him it's just around the corner as I've just checked my map. As I move on he asks the lady behind me how far is left to go. She says not far and just as we found a corner on the beach we all get a glimpse of the castle very close by. A bit further around the corner and we see it in all its glory.
There's still quite a long line of people running up to the flags at the base of the hill up to the castle. Eventually I reach the softer sand as well and slowly trudge my way up to the castle along the dunes. I take a right turn to go past it and pass the sign for the finish.
I always love this bit as it means I've passed the marathon and am on the final little bit. It just doesn't seem that far and mentally is quite a boost. That said, the few miles directly before I'm always itching to get over with. Today that was a particularly interesting mental battle as it was so long and flat with the entire last three miles on the beach.
I carry on around the dunes at the bottom of the castle and see a couple of women ahead of me. I then see them take a wrong turn and start laughing loudly. I then approach them myself and realise they've walked in on a guy taking a leak. He's grinning away and saying he's nearly finished and they're giggling in a high pitched and embarrassed manner.
I follow them over some more dunes until we reach a paved car park and one of them nips off around a bush to go for a leak, whipping her shorts down before she's even there. I avert my eyes, cover them and tell her friend I'm not looking, which garners a laugh.
I plod on up the road down to the car park, just above the dunes now, and pass another guy who is looking rather weary. I nod and say hello as I pass by. He does the same. Up ahead I can see another group of three runners laughing their way up a slight incline. I'm not feeling too bad so push on until I've caught them as well.
About the same time I catch them, the weeing guy and the two women he has caught all catch us and they all have a happy little reunion as it becomes clear the six of them all know each other. They throw in a couple of jokes with me as well and it's nice to be included and pumps my spirits up a bit.
I fairly quickly realise their pace is a little fast for me though so let them carry on ahead without me. They slowly gain ground as we cross over a golf course with the castle as its backdrop, though we're now looking at it from the opposite side. There are a couple of undulations before we leave the golf course and cross a freshly planted field. It's a bit rutted and muddy so makes for a bit more slow going, especially as the far side of the field is quite a small but oddly angle rutted section, so I'm glad to reach the top of it.
Through a gate I find the final checkpoint at the small town of Budle where I again just grab a couple of crisps and don't need to fill my water up. Out of habit I check how far it is to go. As I'm mentally following the normal format of these races in expecting him to say about six kilometres. Instead he shouts back that it's six miles left to go. I ask him to repeat that, and he does. I didn't hear him wrong, it's six miles to go.
It dawns on me that this section isn't the ten kilometre race route so it's not necessarily going to be that distance from the first pass of the finish line. It's a bit of a blow mentally, but within an instant I remind myself I've done much longer races so if anything I'm just getting some more quality running in.
I leave a little ahead of the group of six, who then join me fifty metres later as we all head down a straight road leading up to an incline. They joke that they won't be offended if I leave them behind so they can watch me go and run up the hill. I jest back that they can also watch me fall over at the top of it. In the end we all walk it.
Over the other side the road curls around a bit and it's quite a long stretch for a mile or two along here, so as they go off into the distance I just try to focus on keeping a bit of pace going.
As I get to the end of a long stretch of road I check my phone and see I've done fifty kilometres. I've done that in just shy of five and a half hours which I click is also matching my personal best. It's not that quick especially when looking at my marathon time, but it's quite a nice little boost that I wasn't really expecting.
I've been feeling quite down on my abilities for the last couple of months as the injury had meant that I've had to pull back quite massively on pacing during both training and racing, and I've also had to skip a few sessions. There's always the hard thing to get over mentally of wondering if I'm doing enough and why I seem to be getting worse rather than better at this whole thing despite putting in so much effort. I keep meaning to do more stretches and focus more on recovery and rehab but the best intentions haven't been translating very much into actuality which I've often then chastised myself for.
The last couple of races have been relatively slow which has been playing on my mind a bit, but I've been trying to tell myself for weeks now that I have to go through a slump in order to improve. I've been stubbornly trying to stick to that, whilst not really seeming to get any improvements, so it's nice to see that today I am actually doing okay considering my abilities.
It makes me feel a bit better so I keep running rather than being lazy and taking more walking stops. Which I tend to like taking later into a race. I pass the Glororum Caravan Park though and wonder if I can nip into their toilet. Then I see it's all caravans so won't have one and decide to just push on anyway. With the running, not the toilet you filthy bugger.
I can see a couple of people behind me trying to hunt me down. Normally at this point I'd try to push ahead but I know that today I'm pushing about as hard as I can so decide not to kill myself and let them catch me if they want to. There is a nice long stretch down a country road before turning right...into another country road. A car has just passed me and pulled up at the corner and as I approach he points me down another road and tells me it's just downhill to the beach then along to the castle. He points at the castle and says it's not far. I grin back and tell him that looks can be deceptive and I know it's not exactly five minutes away until the finish.
All the same it is a nice downhill bit along the side of a field so I do up the pace a little. I've realised on checking my phone that there is a slim possibility that I may be able to finish this race in my fastest time of the series, six hours and nineteen minutes, which would be a great boost as its a few kilometres longer. It's touch and go though as there is about twenty five minutes left and three and a half kilometres so somehow I don't quite think I'm going to make it.
I go around the bottom of the field and take a short walking break. The guy of the pair behind me catches me and walks as well before offering me a mini chocolate egg, so I start chatting to him and then the woman just behind arrives as well so we join up as a trio for a few minutes. It's the usual chatting about upcoming and past races then before we know it we're on the beach again and down to the final stretch.
I'm a bit nervous about losing a lot of pace on this little section as I have a tendency to get a little bored on long flat sections. It's perfect timing to have someone with you though, so as the guy heads off ahead I stick with the woman and we keep a pretty steady pace all the way down the beach. I'm actually surprised when in only a few minutes we arrive at the turning flag up the dunes to the castle. It felt like no time at all and I was expecting that section to be a drag.
She tells me she's going to walk the hill and to go on. I feel a bit bad doing that as I'd probably be a minute or two behind if it wasn't for her company but she tells me to move ahead and I'm feeling good so I sprint (okay, hobble) up the hill to the castle behind some of the marathon runners. It's a bit steeper than expected so I'm pretty out of breath at the top but there are still quite a few supporters out which is nice. I found the corner through the gatehouse and collect my medal.
A few minutes behind is Caroline, who I caught the bus with this morning so I chat to her for a few minutes before grabbing my gear and heading into the cafe to warm up and chat to the guy who left us just at the end of the race before changing. Then I get dinner and begin the journey back on the Megabus...
I feel pretty good after this one. I didn't get the quickest time of the series, coming in in six hours, twenty three minutes, but as that's only a few minutes over and was five kilometres longer I'm pretty pleased and surprised at the improvement made. I guess it is starting to pay off. Hopefully I can carry that through to the Sussex race in three weeks.
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