Falling out of love with The Ridgeway....?

A bad thing happened this weekend. I fell out of love with The Ridgeway.

Only one year ago the very same Ridgeway helped me remember who and what I am. I owe it a lot as it saved me from a path that I am glad I did not take. I am a runner who loves to run and savour every experience that running can bring. This weekend I did not love and I did not take pleasure in a gift that medical science and “experts” tried to deny me...

My preparation for the Ridgeway Challenge 2012 had been less than ideal, due to the stresses of work and life. I know most of the route like the back of my hand and have so many memories of different little sections of it, recc'ed at various times of night and day and with different people. I was also in better physical condition than I was when I ran it in 2011.

I had been very open about my intentions for running the Ridgeway this year. It was my one “proper” target of 2012 and I wanted to run it faster than any female before me had ever done so. Perhaps that was the start of my problems, sharing this with others and putting an unnecessary pressure upon myself.

The morning of the race itself was rather interesting and a very daunting affair.... from breakfast at the B&B to meeting all the other runners during registration... I was very aware that people seemed to know who I was and what I had done last year. Assumptions were made and I felt very uncomfortable that others appeared to be confident about what I would do during the race, and yet I was feeling very scared, doubtful of my ability and certainly not confident that I would even finish the race.

I will apologise in advance of my writings today... There were many people and friends that I spoke with before, during and after the race, but I do not have their permission to write their names and for that reason I will share my experiences with them, but they will remain nameless. They will know who they are and if they want their name to appear here, I will happily edit my original version :-)

Ian I can mention as he deserves as much accolade as possible. Without him I would not have started the race, I would not have run all the way to the finish, and I certainly would not have retained a title that I feel honoured to be bestowed.

I must also mention Anthony, the race director. Without him and his volunteers such an amazing and prestigious event could not happen. I am grateful that people like him and the wonderful TRA exist in this word.

I would love to mention all my sponsors, but worry that... Wow, hang on a minute, this is my writing, if I want to mention them I jolly well shall!!

Trion:Z (for humans and for huskies); Salomon; Rehband; Sunwise; 9Bar; Zensah.. without you all and your brilliant support, I would not be able to achieve what I do. I thank you all from the bottom of my heart :-)

And so, to the actual race, and it was a race, even though I try to pretend that it was just a personal running challenge....

Immediately before the start I received some wonderful news from a friend that was also running the race. I carried this news with me for the first few miles and it helped my fly over the ground as if I had wings....

I have never led a race from the start. I have a reputation for a very slow start and then a very strong finish. To be leading from the gun was an experience and a feeling alien to me.

The Chiltern hills from Ivinghoe Beacon are quite simply inspirational. There are occasions when one can feel just like a Red Kite as they run down the slopes.... arms spread wide, feet skipping across the terrain....

Wendover Woods (or is it Tring Woods) offer a different experience of beautiful paths down tree lined routes. For some reason, I always think of Winnie the Pooh when I run through these woods. I know not why as Hundred Acre Wood was in Hampshire... Today I ran through this wood thinking a lot of little Hebe and the imminent recital of a very special poem at her christening in almost exactly one day's time....

The first checkpoint is just before Wendover town. I did not stop long as I knew Ian would be nearby. However I did not know that he would be slightly distracted by a certain Sir Jackie Stewart out walking his dogs in Wendover Town ... I wonder if it is mere coincidence that he is also affectionately known as “the Flying Scot”...

After spotting Ian in Wendover, I headed off to ascend Coombe Hill, where I had planned to eat my croissant...

Running down off Coomb Hill I remembered my last run there, a little practise on the day after the Olympic Games opening ceremony. I felt so inspired on that day, remembering the music as the “next generation” circled the stadium on their way to light the Olympic Cauldron. I will forever and a day remember the music that played on that day, music that I had specially chosen to have on my MP3 player for later in the run when I needed inspiration.

From Wendover the Ridgeway continues to pass through the Chilterns, beautiful scenery available for those that choose to enjoy. As I ran towards Princes Risborough I had the delight of running on paths that Kez and I had previously shared during one of our runs. I missed him not being beside me, his phenomenal pacing skills and instinctive behaviour to always ensure that I am okay. Running beside me when I struggle, leading the way when I am strong. Today I mostly remembered - a technique I was to use for many miles of my solo running...

I remember not when the rain and thunderstorms started, I just remember that it was very wet, very loud and there were brilliant flashes in the sky. My feet were soaking and my ankle aching. The pre race hopes that I would forget about my ankle were crumbling around me. I will not dwell on the pain that I experienced in my ankle for the duration of the race. I have written about it many times before and to be completely blunt, there is not much that changes. I accept the condition that I have and I try to manage it as best I can. I have learned to manage pain and I will continue to make the most of the time as a runner that I have. One day it will end, and one day I will accept that.

I love the checkpoint at Swyncombe (just before the church) checkpoint 3 and hosted by some brilliant people. All drinks are “made to order”, a far cry from the grab and go approach at most races. It is things like this that make The Ridgeway Challenge so very special. Last year they “mothered” me as my world was falling apart (ankle stuff and just about to pull from the race), this year they carefully measure out my orange squash and let me scoff a lot of Pringles!

Upon leaving the checkpoint I knew Grim’s Ditch was fast approaching, my favourite part of the race, also one of the reasons off road running is so much fun.....

A chance to see Ian before my favourite section lifted my spirits, as did the Red Kites that chose to appear as I trudged through a harrowed field (or two)..... It was just before this point that I ended up running with a “Facebook” friend, meeting in person for the first time. We shared some stories, running and dogs.

Did I mention that I love Grim’s Ditch? A tricky section through an exposed tree root path, it twists and bends, keeping mind and feet very active. Quick thinking and my brilliant Salomon XR Missions saw me survive and thrive on this section – it was a different story last year when my Nimbus shoes and lack of confidence resulted in me turning both my ankles....

The next section of the route heads down to the side of the Thames. A flat section with some gates to negotiate and herds of cows and flocks of geese to pass through. There is also a little church yard that one must pass through, and yet again I felt rather uncomfortable, as if somehow I was being disrespectful.

I started getting excited as I felt really strong and I was just about to meet Ian. The plan was for us to rendezvous at the Perch & Pike pub in South Stoke, quick Guinness and change into my night time clothes. I had run out of food and drink long before the Thames, but I did not worry as I had guessed that South Stoke was only a short distance away....

The distance was much longer than I had thought and by the time I reached Ian I was already suffering the effect of very low blood sugar levels. The body was struggling, the mind drifting in and out of awareness. I reached him just in time. Demolition of Coca Cola, rapidly followed by the most delightful Guinness and I started to come round and be aware of what I needed to do. A change of clothes, a plea to Ian for proper food and I started to focus.

The most delightful plate of fish and chips, with mushy peas appeared just as I exited my personal “changing room”. Table manners thrown out of the window, I scoffed the feast as if it was my last on Earth. Over the next few hours I would be punished severely for my lack of manners and glutton like greed....

Suffice to say, I will never again each such a huge amount if I actually want to run. Enforced walking was not on my plan for the early section of the second half of the Ridgeway as I exited Streatley and headed towards Didcot!

And it was from this point forth, that nothing I did made any difference to my negative state of mind. For the brief moments I did not feel sick, I had to cope with pain in ankle, toes or back. Feet slipped from underneath me, I jumped from grassy ridge to grassy ridge trying to find the most solid ground.

Briefly seeing Kirsty helped lift my mind and remind me of the dream I had left behind, somewhere along Grim’s Ditch. Her offers of food were met with a resolute no.

I forgot how to smile and I forgot how to inspire myself. My earphones were broken, no music could lift me and my Camelbak tasted of soap. My toes hurt and I wanted my bed.

Just like Mr Ben, Ian kept appearing from the darkness, worried about me, checking to see that I was making onwards progress.

I was rude to him, grumpy to him and still he kept appearing! What would I do without his support.....?

My best friend for the full duration of the run was my Salomon XA cap. It sat comfortably upon my head protecting my eyes from torrential rain. It never swayed in the high winds or extreme downpours of rain, resolutely remained in place protecting me for all 87 miles...

I saw toads, mice and owls. I heard owls and other night time creatures. The best bit was the baby badger that came trotting towards me oblivious to the human he was about to bump into..... And when he suddenly realised, froze for a second and then scampered away, accompanied by little huffy puffy noises I had to fight the urge to go chasing after him! Kez and Kroi would never forgive me if I told them I refrained from chasing him!!

Yet as my mind crumbled inside, my body kept on going, refusing to give up. It was on autopilot and very much controlling me. As darkness surrounding me I tried to remember what was beyond the darkness. Didcot in the distance reminded me of Kirsty and her running club. Swindon in the far distance reminded me of magic roundabouts and shops.

I thought a lot of Kobi. Or more accurately I thought a lot about “Kobi's Legacy” and the dream that I will make happen.... I cried silent tears as I remembered his little face and “woo,woos”, how he taught me so much about patience and trust.

As I ran towards CP4 on Bury Down, my feet “wheel spun” on the wet muddy grass, I would run a few hundred yards, get frustrated and resign myself to walking for a while. My legs felt strong and wanted to run, but my mind was wondering off the Ridgeway. It was a total disconnect. I learned at this checkpoint about the huge fallout of runners from the race. It sounded like more were pulling out that running all the way to Avebury. This made me feel really sad.

The wide tracks on the route offered several options of where to run/ walk. I know from previous experience that the right hand side is better and yet for many miles I tried to force myself down the left hand side..... Jumping between grassy islands to try and avoid the flooded tracks.

As time dragged on, I stopped “hallucinating”... The large fish that had been flapping around in front of me, mocking me for being so greedy, swam away into the darkness... My belly no longer ached and I no longer believed I would lose my fish supper.... I was able to sip small quantities of Dioralyte and nibble on small pieces of food.

The rain had subsided and the stars were twinkling brightly in the night sky. I remembered the story of the little star that could not sparkle....

“The little Star tried so hard to make himself shine, he huffed and puffed and he smiled until his face hurt, but still he could not shine.
The wise big Star told him that he would only every shine outside when he learned how to shine from inside....

One day he had a race with his little friend, tried really hard and won the race. He was so happy and bursting with pride, but still he did not shine.

He made a drink for himself and before he could drink it, his friend finished the race. His friend collapsed as he finished, completely out of breath and very thirsty. The little Star offered his drink to his little friend, who swallowed it all in one gulp.

As the little Star walked back to his home to make another drink as he too was now very thirsty, he looked at his reflection in the moonlit pond.....

The little Star was shining, brightly and strong, radiant light reflecting off every part of the little Star........”

The next checkpoint (7) at Sparsholt Firs passed in a bit of a blur, but I instantly remembered the next part of the course very well. Having run it several times, I knew how close and yet how far home was.

Checkpoint (8) at Charlbury Hill is always the most glowing of all the checkpoints. I think it is where all the little Stars gather, disguised as people...

Their campfire is like a beacon on approach and their joyful enthusiasm “almost” contagious. I tried very hard to smile, but I think a grimace was all that came out....

Heading away from this checkpoint The Ridgeway drops down a stony trail and onto a road section for over one mile. It was at this point last year that I grew wings and flew most of the way home. Not today, all that I grew were horns!! Sorry Ian and the fellow runner that heard me say a bad word...

As I considered quitting, getting in the car and being driven to the finish I thought again about all my sponsors and the people that believe in me.  I mentally "wrote" myself a letter, apologising to them all for letting them down.  For being a fraud and unable to achieve.  I never got round to signing the letter as the "La, La" song appeared by magic in my mind......

I kept on seeing a head torch light come towards me, which was rather confusing as it would then turn around and go forwards... This kept happening almost all the way to Barbury Castle and it was only then that I realised it was a fellow runner not confident that he was on the correct trail!! He knew I was close behind and when my light kept coming, he knew he as on the correct path...

We ran together for a while, most of the way to the finish. It was the same runner that I spoke to as we ran through Grim's Ditch, many hours before. We shared a few stories of dogs, running and how good Salomon clothes are.

It was not until we ran through Barbury Castle (CP9) that I finally allowed myself to consider that I was the leading female in the race and would almost definitely retain my championship title.

As the realisation dawned upon me I started to feel inside me something that had left me many hours and many miles earlier. The realisation that I had actually achieved what I had dreamed of. My time may well be nearer 18 hours this year, but it mattered not as finishing had become my only target since South Stoke, about 44 miles earlier....

My legs picked up strength as we ran towards Marlborough Downs. (It is actually Fyfield Down, but I always think of Marlborough Downs Challenge at this point and remember my first ever ultra event...) Sadly my running companion was not comfortable running on the tough terrain in the last few miles, so I kept stopping and waiting for him as I feared he would miss the last turn off The Ridgeway, when the route heads into Avebury away from Overton Hill. I am not sure if it was his tiredness or choice of footwear, but his feet slipped from underneath him at one point. Thankfully he was able to continue running.

I stood waiting for him at the final turn and tried to will him to pick up the pace, fly down the hill to the finish. I finally looked at my watch and noticed that I was actually an hour faster than I thought! As I covered the last few hundred metres I realised that not only had I managed to finish, but I finished in the third fastest ever time. Only three ladies wining times have been sub17 hours – two of them belong to me.  I am also the first female to have won the UK Trail Ultra Running Championship more than once.

I was delighted to hear that fellow Winchester & District Athletic Club member Robin Houghton had won the race, also in the third fastest ever time.

So where do I go from here? Do I return next year to try for a third title and a sub 16 time? To be honest, I do not know.

I run because I love running. I run for the feeling of freedom, inspiration, happiness and so much more. My run on The Ridgeway this year did not give me that. It gave me pain, despair, frustration and made me grumpy.

I started this piece of writing by saying that “I fell out of love with The Ridgeway”. I now know that is not true. I disconnected with a dream, that is all.

I intend to run the full Ridgeway Trail with all of the Huskies Running team. Run it in a day, for fun and for “Kobi's Legacy”. I have a sneaky feeling that when I do, I will realise that in actual fact I am very much still in love with The Ridgeway, and who knows, I may even create a new dream for 2013....

*the "La, La" song is in fact the song that was played as the Olympic Flame entered the Olympic Stadium and the "future generation" lit the Olympic Cauldron.