soulchaser

SOULCHASER - FRONTPAGE

2008-07-26T21:57:46+00:00

LATEST! Finale in 6 Marathon Challenge

"Drugged up, lubed up and revved up, I joined the familar bunch of athletes and wannabies at the starting line and waited for the gun to fire, which duly went off as I was tightening my laces. My first thought as I passed under the start/finish banner was how it was going to feel when I passed under it again..." Read on...

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<<< Go to Marathon #6 - Exmoor! >>>

NEW!: The Missions!

It is when we are pushed to our own personal limits - physical or otherwise - that we learn most about ourselves. In these pages I celebrate personal challenge by telling the tales of some of the more structured tests of character I've undertaken in the past, including the up-and-coming 6 Marathons : 6 Months: a new idea designed to get me away from computers and raising loads of cash for the WWF. Be sure to follow this as it's certain to provide some great stories gorged in blood, sweat and tears.

Jan - May 2007: Soulchaser in India

At once the most interesting and testing country I have visited. I spent 5 months here, longer than in any country other than my own, although India is known as the sub-continent for good reason. I will be adding a wealth of indispensible in-country travel tips, but for now you will have to amuse yourselves with my musings. Please have a read. I hope they inspire you to pay a visit.

Jan - Jul 2005: Soulchaser in South America

After quitting my job in a hissy fit I decided upon the nicely timed Rio Carnaval followed by a motorbike journey around the continent as a way of blowing my meagre savings and pondering my next move in life. 6 months, a lot of excessive drinking and a broken collar bone later, I still hadn't figured that part out, but I'd had a lot of fun! There's plenty of laughs and travel advice to be gleaned from these chapters, so read on!

Feb 2007: Climate Change - The Test of a Generation

"In January, the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change released its fourth report on the affects of human actions on the earth’s climate. It makes for highly disturbing reading, and the language used by the scientists is stronger than ever....." Read More

Reclaim Your Bank Charges

Love Travel? Hate Banks?

Want a way to make your bank fund your next trip without taking out a loan or an overdraft? Here's how...

Coming Soon: Distance Learning

Study a degree from the top universities, for free, from anywhere in the world! A potentially superb alternative to studying full-time at an institution. There are many pitfalls, however, and I'll share the lessons I've learned through my usual trick of falling head first into each and every of them.

Becoming a Yachtsmaster: Fastrack Yourself for Under £3k

I've toyed with the idea of sailing for a few years now, inspired by my freind's dreams of being paid ample amounts of tax-free cash to traverse the world the exciting way - windswept and salty, free of constraints and totally in control of everything you can be while at the complete and humbling mercy of the elements.

In this thread I'm going to explain:

why sailing is such a brilliant idea
my plan to navigate the extraordinary cost of learning to sail (I expect to pay less than £3000 for what many people will gladly hand over more than £10,000 to do)
what it takes to become qualified
what work is available and how to find it

I'll also keep a diary of my progress, and create a list of the best resources available on the internet.

Coming Soon: Life on the Road

What happens when you accidentally buy a 25 year old VW *M*A*S*H* Van replica on ebay, and decide to live in it? Find out here soon!

"All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find it was vanity, but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they act their dreams with open eyes to make it possible."

- TE Lawrence -

6 Marathons : 6 Months

2008-07-26T21:49:29+00:00

<<< Back to Missions! >>>

This Winter I'm running Britain's 6 hardest marathons in 6 months to raise money for the WWF. Follow my progress here

**Exmoor Marathon Race Report**

"Drugged up, lubed up, and revved up, I joined the familar bunch of athletes and wannabies at the starting line and waited for the start gun, which duly went off as I was tightening my laces. My first thought as I passed under the start/finish banner was how it was going to feel when I passed under it again." Read on...

The Rationale

"I used to pursue outlandish tests of alcoholic endurance to create a sense of achievement in my life. Ironically, that habit has left me so indebted that I can no longer afford it, so, instead, I've turned to the far more terrifying pursuit of outlandish tests of physical endurance. Hence this." Read more...

Latest News

The Curse of the Left Knee strikes again, this time on Christams eve, exactly one month before the 2nd marathon at Portland. Now, with less than 2 weeks to go, I'm just about ready to start training... Read More...

Training Diary

Last updated 2 weeks after I first injured my knee on the 6th October 2007! I was hoping to post details of my extensive training regime of comprehensive reports of my diet and nutritional program. Alas, it's been beer, wine, and biscuits from day 1! Read More...

Gear Reviews

Shoes

Bumbag

Camel Pack

Jacket

*All coming soon*

THE MARATHONS

#1 Snowdonia Marathon - 24/10/07

Runners World's 'most scenic race in the UK' is also Britain's toughest road marathon, and the first of my 6 in 6 months.

Click here for the race history, details of the route, advice on where to eat sleep and drink while you're there, and of course the pre and post-race reports from my own experience of the 2007 Snowdonia Marathon. Read on...

#2 Portland Marathon - 26/01/08

A double loop around Portland Island in Dorset makes up the 2nd race in my 6 marathon challenge this winter.

Leading up to the race my knee was in a really bad way, and I expected to struggle round, probably finishing close to, if not at, the end of the pack.

Have a look at the race intro, course info, advice on where to eat sleep and drink, and of course the post-race report from my own experience of the 2008 Portland Marathon. Read on...

#3 South Devon Marathon - 23/02/08

Just 4 weeks after running 26miles around Portland, I have to run 26 much, much harder miles round Dartmoor. Horrible. Just Horrible.

This marathon marks the point where this challenge get serious. The marathons are getting tougher, and there's no recovery time in between.

Take a look at the hardest in the challenge so far, why it's so difficult, and how I fared on the day. Read on...

#4 Cornwall Marathon - 15/03/08

Cornwall comes only 3 weeks after South Devon, and marks the beginning of the second half of the cahllenge. The first half took 5 months, meaning that this marathon will be the first of 3 in just 4 weeks!

Called as magical as it is monstrous, the weather was set to steal the show on this one, with forecasts of 20mph gales threatening to stop the runners in their tracks. In the end it proved to be the hardest of the challenge so far.

Take a look at the details of the race here. Read on...

#5 Jurassic Coast Marathon 28/03/08

My body's taking a battering now as the marathons come thick and fast. This is the replacement of the Pembrokeshire Marathon which I missed due to injury back in November. Ironically, the pressure on my body caused by overloading the second half has given my right knee the same injury that caused me to skip Pembroke when I had it in my left knee.

No excuses now though, just grit your teeth and get round... Read on...

#6 Exmoor Marathon - 12/04/08

This is it - the last one! I can't quite beleive I've run 5 marathons this winter, let alone 3 in the past 5 weeks! This, quite rightly, is the hardest of the six, and arguably the hardest marathon in Britain.

Check out the details of the race here, and read the exciting final review! Read on...

All this madness is in aid of our beautiful planet earth. By sponsoring me you'll be supporting the world's most important wildlife conservation charity - the WWF. If you respect our planet, and you're impressed by this challenge, please make a donation in recognition of them both.

<<< Back to Missions! >>>

#6 Exmoor: Britain's Toughest Marathon - Race Report

2008-07-26T22:05:41+00:00

<<< 6 Marathons : 6 Months >>>

<<< Back to Exmoor Marathon >>>

This is it! The last one! 6 of the UK's hardest marathons in 6 months!

When I decided upon the idea of running 6 marathons in 6 months to prove something to myself, I chose to make it as hard as possible by doing the six toughest marathons I could find. I made it tougher still by refusing to train or eat properly, or even organise myself before runs. The predicatable result was pain, injury, and disappointment. This is a problem I have endured since I can remember, going over the top without thought or preparation. I swing between bouts of total paralysis and overexertion. My dreams are so far fetched as to make them unattainable to the point where at times I don't even start trying, and often give up after spending more money than I have on the kit I think I'll need.

Oscar wilde said that anyone who lives within their measures suffers from a lack of imagination, so at least I can take heart from that. And I do. But nonetheless, after 5 painful lessons, I was still trying to find my campsite at 2am the night before this last and hardest marathon, after almost running out of fuel in the middle of nowhere on the north Devon coast, praying that I'd come across an open garage sooner or later.

Lady luck favours the brave, and I did find that garage and make it to bed that night. I ate a bowl of pasta before sleeping for 4 restless hours in gale force winds and torrential rain. I woke to bright skies but the usual dark, menacing clouds gathering on the horizon. I put on my running gear and began walking down an impossibly steep hill toward the start. By now I didn't even raise an eyebrow at the prospect of struggling up such a monster. Anyway, I knew that worse was to come.

The Exmoor Marathon is billed as the hardest in Britain, and I think that very few people would dispute its claim to that title. I was coming into the race utterly broken. It would be my third in just 4 weeks. The strain of that level of stress on my weak little body was too much to handle, and it broke down half way through the 5th marathon, making me walk for the first time. There was no way I could get round Exmoor alone after such a battering. I needed drugs!

So I came prepared, popping ibuprofein on a pharmacist's advice to stop the pain and reduce the swelling in my knee which had stopped me running before. 200mg every 2 hours was the plan, and 200mg before the start to be safe!

Drugged up, lubed up, and revved up, I joined the familar bunch of athletes and wannabies at the starting line and waited for the start gun, which duly went off as I was tightening my laces. My first thought as I passed under the start/finish banner was how it was going to feel when I passed under it again. I wave of emotion went through me, I could feel the finish already. This test had taken me beyond my limits already and I was still running. I wanted it to be over so badly, but I wanted to finish well.

Within two minutes of running, however, my camelpack broke! I jogged along the wooded path with the other runners, fighting with the strap, trying to tie a knot into it to fix it. That done, I got back on with the race, hoping that would be the last of the dramas.

Over a stream and round a bend and we saw the first hill, and my god it was huge. I passed a guy who was explaining to friend how it is inefficient to run up these hills, and better to walk them. I laughed to myself as I watched the leaders clambering up using their arms like fell runners, and had to stop myself asking how the hell he knew, like he'd ever be able to actually run up one of those things himself. There is no need to take yourself seriously on a run like this unless you are an athlete. The very fact that you are there at all is serious enough.

Finaly the hill leveled out onto a coastal stretch that almost immediately turned inland, and then back down again. A fast paced, joint smashing descent, back into the woods and along the stream, past the start/finish line. We had done the first 10k and it had been a sincch. I'd have felt short changed if that'd been my run. That was the warm up. Back up again, on roads now, roads that I'd been driving around all night, burning vapours on the way up and coasting the way down. No vapours here, my body was warming up, but no chance of coasting on the way down either.

We were runnng north now, slightly inland, before doubling back along the coast to the finish. The hills kept coming as I knew they would, and I was counting the massive ones as they came. I was expecting 5 monsters, but between them were hundreds of smaller ones, still giants compared to the other races. But the drugs were working, holding back the pain that was present but not debilitating, and for the first time in the whole challenge I actually felt like a runner. More than that, I was getting stronger as the race went on.

The sun was out as well, and I was enjoying every step. I was holding back, running smarter than I had before, controlling the urge to sprint on the downs, but using other people to keep pushing. I wasn't letting anyone else past me, and was aiming my sights on the person in front, racing them, convincing myself I was playing with them and would pass them as soon as they tired.

Brimming with confidence we made the turn back toward the finish. A long way to go still. A long. long way. We ran on the cliffs for a while, with the coastline stretched out before us. It helps not to be able to see that your finish is actually out of sight, but the views were spectacular. We ran down into a coastal village, along the front were people were having ice creams with their kids. That sedentry life is so easy and welcoming and I fall into it as though I were born for it, but running through it with 15 miles behind me and 11 to go, feeling stronger than ever before, I wondered just what the appeal was. When had I felt more alive? Every muscle in me was taught but moving freely, every sinew charged, every synapse firing.

On the other side of this town a parked car had obscured the waymarker, and three runners in front of me almost missed the turn up the steepest hill of the day. I rescued them but not before taking pleasure out of passing them! This hill was practically vertical, and a chain train had been built to take the rest of society up. At the top we were back to coastal paths, running round bays, wondering which headland would be the last before the home stretch. There were too many, they just kept coming. I was amazed at how well the drugs had lept me going, but was starting to wonder how long it would last. I knew from the the last checkpoint that it would only be a couple of miles to the finish once we turned inland, and so I kept pushing, my body now doing everything it could to get me to stop. Fighting that urge at this stage is crucial, because as soon as you do everything stops working, your body justs shuts down to make you stay still and stop punishing it.

Finally I rounded the last headland and made my way down into the valley that I'd run up the other side of that morning. Back into the woods, and then another checkpoint. How far to go? 4 miles! They'd done it again! This marathon would be more like 30miles than 26, which was typical of these guys at Endurance Life! I sucked it up and carried on.

It is so hard to be told you've got another hour to go when you think you're at the finish. You've pushed yourself as hard as you can for 5 hours to make it to that point, and you find out you've got to carry on beyond that. It's easy to break down. I did break down last time that happened. You're achievement has been taken away from you and you've left nothing in the tank to carry on. How can there be anything in the tank? You've just run 26 of the hardest miles in the country for gods sake, and you did it well, and now there's more!

But I was stronger this time. I took it with a wry smile and started running faster. That was a mistake, and soon I was tiring and 2 or 3 people passed me for the first time in hours. Luckily most of it was flat at this stage, with some downhills, but on and on it went. The scenery was magnificent though, and I started to imagine the finish line again, and the same sensation passed over me. Strengthened I pushed on, and an old timer walking his dog told me I was 10 minutes away.

Elated I relaxed and started to enjoy and feel every step I was taking. Scattered sunlight dappled the muddied track and the river ran in the opposite direction to me on my right. I ran against it, up small hills, over tree trunks, getting stronger again, pushing into a full blown run after jogging heavily for so long.

Soon I spotted the banner in the distance through some trees. My tiredness left me and I flew along, over a hill and then back down the path I had started up that morning. I was sprinting beautifully now, tearing through the air with butterflies churing my stomach in anticipation, and then a crowd cheers as I sprint past, on their feet spurring me on to the end, and then I'm there, and it's over, and I've done it, and I fall to my knees and cover my face and the joy and happiness and sheer and utter and beautiful relief swim through me. I had run Britain's 6 hardest marathons in 6 months, through injuries in both knees, and I had finished the hardest of them all in the kind of style I could only have dreamed of.

Thank you to everyone who followed me through this, and to all those who sponsored me. I raised around £1000 for the WWF, which is fantastic, but there is still time to give! I wanted to raise £10 per (official) mile, which is £1560 - so dig deep and make it happen!

All this madness was in aid of our beautiful planet earth. By sponsoring me you'll be supporting the world's most important wildlife conservation charity - the WWF. If you respect our planet, and you're impressed by this challenge, please make a donation in recognition of them both.

<<< Back to Exmoor Marathon >>>

<<< 6 Marathons : 6 Months >>>

#6

2008-07-26T20:47:00+00:00

<<< 6 Marathons : 6 Months >>>

<<< Back to Exmoor Marathon 2008 >>>

This is it! The last one! 6 of the UK's hardest marathons in 6 months!

Lady luck favours the brave, and I did find that garage and make it to bed that night. I ate a bowl of pasta before sleeping for 4 restless hours in gale force winds and torrential rain. I woke to bright skies but the usual dark, menacing clouds gathering on the horizon. I put on my running gear and began walking down the steepest hill in Britain toward the start. By now I didn't even raise an eyebrow at the prospect of struggling up such a monster. Anyway, I knew that worse was to come.

The Exmoor Marathon is billed as the hardest in Britain, and I think that very few people would dispute its claim to that title. I was coming into the race utterly broken. It would be my third in just 4 weeks. The starin of that level of stress on my weak little body was too much to handle, and it broke down half way through the 5th marathon, making me walk for the first time. There was no way I could get round Exmoor alone after such a battering. I needed drugs!

So I came prepared, popping ibuprofein on a pharmacist's advice, to stop the pain and reduce the swelling in my kne which had stopped me running before. 200mg every 2 hours was the plan, and 200mg before the start to be safe!

Drugged up, lubed up, and revved up, I joined the familar bunch of athletes and wannabies at the starting line and waited for the start gun, which duly went off as I was tightening my laces. My first thought as I passed under the start/finish banner was how it was going to feel when I passed under it again. I wave of emotion went through me, I could feel the finish already. This test had tested me to my limits already and I was still running. I wanted it to be over so badly, but I wanted to finish well.

Within two minutes of running, however, my camelpack broke! I jogged along the wooded path with the other runners, fighting with the strap, trying to tie a knot into it to fix it. That done, I got nack on with the race, hoping that would be the last of the dramas.

Over a stream and round a bend and we see the first hill, and my god it's huge. I pass a guy who's explaining to friend how it's inefficient to run up these hills, and better to walk them. I laughed to myself as I watched the leaders clambering up using their arms like fell runners, and had to stop myself asking how the hell he knew, like he'd ever be able to actually run up one of those things himself. There is no need to take yourself seriously on a run like this unless you are an athlete. The very fact that you are there at all is serious enough.

Finaly the hill leveled out onto a coastal stretch that almost immediately turned inland, and then back down again. A fast paced, joint smashing descent, back into the woods and along the stream, past the start/finish line. We had done the first 10k and it had been a sicnch. I'd have felt short changed if that'd been my run. That was the warm up. Back up again, on roads now, roads that I'd been driving around all night, burning vapours on the way up and coasting the way down. No vapours here, my body was warming up, but no chance of coasting on the way down either.

Exmoor: Britain's Toughest Marathon - 12 Apr 08

2008-07-26T20:04:15+00:00

<<< 6 Marathons : 6 Months >>>

This winter I'm running Britain's 6 hardest marathons in 6 months to raise money for the WWF. I've faced pain,injury, sickness, financial ruin, heaps more pain, but I'm at the last hurdle: Exmoor - the hardest marathon in Britain - will be my 4th marathon in just 7 weeks to finish the challenge on time...

Race Intro

The last one. The finale. So far I've run 131 miles and for over 30 hours over some of the biggest hills and toughest terrain in the South West; through driving winds, freezing rain and blinding snow; I've raced endurance athletes, fat amateurs, and Arnold Schwarzenegger; I've had fist clenching, teeth grinding injuries in both my knees; and I've eaten more pasta than I care to remember!

And so here we are, 24 weeks since I hobbled round Snowdon, gearing up for what is surely the hardest marathon in Britain - Exmoor!

My knee blew up round marathon #5 forcing me to walk for the first time, so I've had loads of physio in the hope of fixing it. But looking at the hills (below), I know the only way my body will hold up for this one last beasting will be if it's drugged! I plan on popping 200mg of ibuprofin for every 2 hours I run, which will hopefully keep the pain at bay until the end, stopping my brain from seizing up the muscles and tendons in my knee forcing me to walk again.

The Route

Exmoor is what you would expect as a finale from the boys at Endurance Life. It's a loop along the coast and back taking in the most diverse and challenging terrain and topography the country has to offer. By their own words:

"The course is a monster and will certainly seperate the men from the boys!"

Whoop de doo! I've lost about a stone doing this challenge, my knees are now constantly sore, I feel fatigued, my body drained of nutrients and vitamins that, being a lazy amateur, I haven't been replacing properly after these gruelling events. I've been tired for a while now, the last two runs felt more like chores during the run up than something to be excited or even frightened by. But now I'm on edge. I feel like I'm going into battle, and although my body is well and truly broken, I feel mentally prepared. I wonder how long that will last!

Elevation Data

I don't think I need to say too much really. Cast your eyes back on the last few marathons to see how this compares. These are by far the biggest hills I'll have faced, and they are neverending. There are at least 5 ascents of 500ft or more.

There is no doubt that this will challenge me beyond anything I've faced before, but hopefully the fact that it's the last one will spur me on to the finish. The thought of having to do a replacement marathon stopped me quitting the last one, so I'm hoping that not ever having to do another one of these again will get me round this one!

Race Report

*Coming after the race*

Official Website

Visit race organiser Endurance Life's offical website for more information, photography, official race results, and information on future events. They did a superb job with this one, so they have my endorsement free of charge!

<<< 6 Marathons : 6 Months >>>

Jurassic Coast Marathon Race Report

2008-04-05T13:26:58+00:00

<<< 6 Marathons : 6 Months >>>

<<< Back to Jurassic Coast Marathon 2008 >>>

The end is nigh! The 2nd of 3 marathons in 4 weeks, the 5th of 6 in 6 months, just one more after this one, but with a serious knee injury in tow, and sick from a night bivvying in the snow, I would come the closest I've been to quitting so far...

I knew this one wasn't going to go well. I was suffering from ITB syndrome in my right knee (the same problem in my left knee had stopped me running for 3 months) after the previous marathon 2 weeks earlier, which I made ten times worse by attempting to hike the 87 mile Ridgeway in 3 days a week later. I had to abandon that walk after around 15 miles because of the injury, and spent that night bivvying out on Ivinghoe beacon, waking up to an inch of snow covering my gore-tex bivvy bag. So now I was injured and sick. Great.

Injured, sick, and tired of the whole thing because of it. But then, this was exactly why running so many extreme endurance events in such short succession is so difficult - there is no recovery time, and being difficult was the point. I almost talked myself out of it. I could find another race. Get fit again and do it properly. But doing it properly didn't mean doing it well, it meant doing it right. This was the only coastal marathon that could replace the one I'd skipped because of injury back in November, so no quitting. Just get on with it, suffer it, finish it, and get ready for the last one.

On the morning of the race I couldn't find my 1000mile socks, my running pants, or my running jacket. The latter was crucial because the weather was looking nasty. I ended up joining the start line just as the gun was fired, scampering out of the public loos where I'd been trying to force out the clogged remains of the previous night's carbo-loading. I'd ordered spaghetti bolognese with more pasta, less sauce, and was instead fed a huge portion of the trademark dish which could have fed about 4 people. Not one to waste food, I ate the lot. There has been a theme running through these marathons, and bloated bowels might just sum it up!

I knew my knee would cause my problems at some point, it was just a matter of when, so I started slowly, tagging on to the back of the pack. As this was a 'challenge' and not a race (that translates to a lot of people paying £150 to be guided along the coastal path for 3 days, many of them walking), the pack seemed keen to stick together, and it made a nice change running as a part of a group, as for so much of this I've been running on my own.

The route proved to be pretty tame in comparison to what I've become accustomed to: no wellies required, no mountain goat tracks to navigate at full speed, just wide paths and country lanes, albeit up and down some pretty huge hills, some of which required some fancy snowboarding skills to slide down. The views were beautiful, the other runners had another two marathons back to back after this one, so all in all it was pretty relaxed.

As I expected my knee was hurting a lot, and after just 8 miles it blew up. I hobbled on for a little while to the second checkpoint at mile 14, but I was back to Snowdon, and this time the pain was worse and terrain more difficult. I was now walking home, with barely enough clothing on to keep my body temp up at walking pace, with a cruel wind taking the heat away from the sun, I faced a long, lonely, painful walk to the finish line.

By this time there were still runners around me. Amazingly it seems that no matter how injured and unfit I am, there are other people who are slower than me! I take great pride in that fact, and it helps to keep you motivated when you can see other people and you know you're not last and dropping ever further behind as you make your slow progress.

Eventually I limped up to the third and final checkpoint at mile 19. They saw me coming and I readied myself for a fight. I was sure they were planning to kidnap me, to bundle me into the back of their van and drive me back. I was fighting the urge to quit with the only way I knew - utter defiance and total denial. I got to within shouting range and yelled "I'm carrying on!" If I coud just break through their barricade they'd probably let me finish. I clenched my fists and planned my first flurry, two men and an old woman, I didn't stand a chance!

I'd obviously scared them enough though, because by the time I reahed them they were handing me a cup of tea and pointing out where to head. I slurped that tea down and strode off onto a pebbly beach with a foul looking weather system chasing me. The wind built up and started pushhing me about, while hail battered me from above. I very nearly turned back and got into the van, but I pressed on.

By now I didn't care how long it was going to take. I had been forced to walk, so it didn't matter if it was 6 hours or 12 hours, as long as I finished. This took the pressure off a little and I started to enjoy myself, singing at the top of my voice into the wind while strolling across ridgeways at the top of hills I'd struggled up, telling stories of courage and honour as I wandered by myself toward the finish.

After many hours I came to the finish, unable to bend my right knee at all, but satisfied. I'd finished what was one of the more easy routes, but the most difficult mental challenge I'd faced so far. Only two weeks to go until the last one - I just hope my knees hold up so I can actually run it!

<<< Back to Jurassic Coast Marathon 2008 >>>

<<< 6 Marathons : 6 Months >>>

Jurassic Coast Marathon - 28/03/08

2008-04-05T13:08:56+00:00

<<< 6 Marathons : 6 Months >>>

This winter I'm running Britain's 6 hardest marathons in 6 months to raise money for the WWF. The finish line is close with just two more to go, but they're getting harder and closer together everytime. Number 5 takes me back down to Dorset, next door to the Portland Marathon.

Race Intro

They're coming thick and fast now! This marathon is just 2 weeks after Cornwall, which saw me horrible round in 7 hours and 3 seconds, amazingly only 2 hours behind the winner!

But my knee took a battering and I know it won't have recovered in time for this one. My right knee this time, but the same problem - Illiotibial Band Syndrome - a massive band of ligament that runs from your hip felxors down the side of your thigh, over the outside of your knee, connecting to your tibia. It's common among runners, and incredibly painful!

This one is part of a bigger event where some nutters are doing 3 marathons in 3 days - some running, others walking. I'm joining the first, and toughest, of those days.

The Route

Back down to Weymouth and the Dorset coastline, this one runs East from Lyme Regis back towards Portland where I struggled rund all those months ago to finish number 2.

Following the coastline almost all the way, with only 3 checkpoints and no markers - runners must rely on a map, compass, and their wits...

Elevation Data

Not much to say about this one really is there! The first half of the race is aboviously horrendous compared to the second half, with elevation changes of up to 700ft in a matter of metres.

Of course by now I know that what really counts is terrain - will this be massive hills of nicely maintained and well worn path, or of jagged boulders and torrents of liquid mud straight from the bowels of hell? Who can say!

Race Report

"Injured, sick, and tired of the whole thing because of it. But then, this was exactly why running so many extreme endurance events in such short succession is so difficult - there is no recovery time, and being difficult was the point. I almost talked myself out of it. I could find another race. Get fit again and do it properly. But doing it properly didn't mean doing it well, it meant doing it right." Read on...

Official Website

Visit race organiser VOTWO offical website for more information, photography, official race results, and information on future events. They did a superb job with this one, so they have my endorsement free of charge!

<<< 6 Marathons : 6 Months >>>

Cornwall Marathon Race Report

2008-03-18T19:20:46+00:00

<<< Back to 6 Marathons >>>

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The beginning of the end starts here - the first of 3 marathons in 4 weeks to complete the 6/6 Challenge on time, just 3 weeks after South Devon. It proved to be the hardest one so far. By the end of it I'd seen hell, and it was muddy, with huge boulders and large men in lycra cyring for their mums...

This marathon was a series of very real and very painful de ja vues. From the night on the town a few days before, to the over zealous race-night carbo-loading and subsequent bloated bowels that stayed with me until sunday, everything screamed a Snowdonia re-run. Before Snowdonia I was complacent because I was naive, while lining up for the Cornwall Marathon I was being plain arrogant. I had survived the last two with no real problems and expected this one to be easier. Not even the pre-race warnings about the terrain and the explicit assurances from the man who had set the course markers that whis would be the hardest one yet could provoke fear. What did he know? Had he run them? In truth I was feeling tired of the whole thing. What was the point? Who cares? Why was I bothering to destroy myself in this drawn out and really expensive way?! I wasn't sure.

A massive storm had hit Cornwall the previous weekend, and 20mph winds had been forecast for the race day, but in the event we lined up to a slight drizzle and cold wind, but nothing worse. I stood at the back. Music played while we waited for the countdown.... 10, 9, 8, 7... "Good luck everyone!" shouted a runner and the small group of proud sado-masochists that I counted myself a part of began clapping and cheering... 3, 2, 1.... a battle cry rang out, a roar of fellowship and comaraderie, and we were off the to applause of the supporters who would wait God knows how long for us to return.

My race plan was to get round. To finsih. I had accepted that it might take me longer than 6 hours because I wasn't feeling up to it, but not because the course was harder. I felt as though my body must be strong enough to get round, so I would let it. I wanted no part in it. I didnt want to enjoy it, to experience it at all, I wanted to tick it off and move on to number 5.

Foolishly, I had forgotten that marathons are run in the mind just as much as they are run in the legs, if not more so. This alone would have done for me, without the added burden of a truly hellish course. The first half was the coastal trail, up and down hills bigger and bolder than those of South Devon, but this time, instead of being rocky and jagged, they were littered with boulders the size of tractor tyres surrounded and covered by wet, glutinous mud that simpy caked your specialist trail shoes and turned them into ice skates. When I wasn't sliding uncontrollably (albeit impressively!) down mudslides and trying to stay upright, I was picking my way around these massive rocks, slipping off them whenever I dared to move at anything resembling a run. Too many times did I come too close to breaking my wrists in a fall onto these rocks, let alone my ankles, becoming more and more weary as the minutes turned into hours and the pressure to maintain speed increased.

The terrain made me forget all of my miserablness. I had passed a 6 mile marker on course for a 5 hour race and felt like I'd continued that pace after 2 hours 15 mins, assuming I'd covered around 13 miles by that time. My right knee had begun to hurt, and I recognised through the pain the same injury that had caused so many problems with my left knee. With two more marathons in such short succession I couldn't afford to push it - after all, it was that injury that meant I was doing 3 in 4 weeks as a finale.

I kept on going, the pack already too spread out for me to have any kind of companions, and wondered when the course would turn inland to loop back. Surely it would have to soon, I thought, unless the coastal trail was particularly convoluted and the inland section was much shorter than it. That must be it, I reasoned, and carried on, sure I was doing well. Eventually the path turned inland, along a wooded path that was so muddy I would have been quicker wearing snow shoes. I picked up a buddy along here. His first trail marathon. He hadn't trained off road, and couldn't believe how hard it was. I'd done two of these things already and I couldn't believe how hard it was. I was suffering badly, but my spirits were high, and I reassured him we were past half way, despite hs doubts. "We've been running for 3 hours", I told him, "of course we're past half way!".

Ten minutes later we hit the half way marker. That was it. I was finished. I'd started the race with no drive, and over 3 painful hours I'd grown some balls on the belief that I was doing better than I'd imagined I could, a false belief that was blown apart along with my new found manhood. My knee was shot. I knew that. But now so was I.

Near the start of the race I'd heard someone say that it's impossible to make other people understand what you go through during these events. 3 hours into this one, 3 hours along the hardest terrain I've ever encountered, against a cold wind driving hard rain, with an injury that you recognise as serious and debilitating, facing up to the realisation that you probably have at least another 4 hours to go is truly something quite difficult to convey to others.

I thanked the marshalls at the station for a much needed drink, called the race organisers sadistic bastards, and carried on. Now the similarites with Snowdonia were really mounting up: knee injury flaring up half way through, weather turning worse, a bleak, empty course, running alone into the fog, with no idea how long I was going to be out there. I was not happy. But unless both your legs are broken there's no stopping. I don't know what idiot invented that rule (Dan!) but it kept me moving forward while everything yelled at me to stop.

By now the course had tuned into a mudbath. A path walled in by hedges that was like something out of a WW1 trench. Similar questions too, I'm sure. Why am I here? What's the point? My God I want to go home! The terrain turned into moorland, more desolate and boggy than ever. A couple who had passed me once already passed me again. They'd got lost and had caught me once more. I congratulated them on lapping me!

Hours passed, and I was glad when they did. With each hour I knew I was closer to the end. Then came the hill at the end of the course that I knew from the elevation data. Not long now. A coupe of miles. I slogged up, unsure how far it was but by now I was unemotional. I had achieved the state of emptiness I was looking for at the start if the race. Just let it be over.

Then a corner and the flags were in sight, and the realisation that it was over filled mewith energy. Limping, I dragged myself up the hill toward the finish, I looked at my watch, 6hrs 58mins - Come On sub 7hrs! As I entered the final straight a hanfdul of supporters created a stadium atmosphere and I was running again. I checked my watch, 6:59:30. Head down and push. I wanted to cry tears of relief. The stadium roared as I crossed the line - 7hrs 8 secs!

The official time was 7hrs 6mins - I think they're wrong. But get this: the winner finished in 4hrs 59mins! I can't see how Exmoor can be harder, but I certainly won't take that for granted this time. I only hope my knee will recover in time for the Jurassic Coast Marathon between now and then...

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Cornwall Marathon - 15th March 2008

2008-03-17T22:30:14+00:00

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This winter I'm running Britain's 6 hardest marathons in 6 months to raise money for the WWF. I've passed the half way mark, but that took 5 months, so the Cornwall Marathon will be the first of 3 marathons in 4 weeks to complete the challenge on time...

Race Intro

This marathon comes just 3 weeks after South Devon, and will mark the beginning of the second half of the 6 Marathon : 6 Month Challenge - 3 marathons taking place over just 4 weeks! Bizarrely I'm not concerned. I haven't done any training for any of these runs, which is undoubtedly reflected in my times and the injury that plagued me, but I've survived nevertheless. I think it's fair to say that I'm getting complacent.

However, I've run 3 marathons in 5 months so far - 3 in one month is going to be a damn sight harder. I'm hoping that, as they're so close, this run will count as training for the last two, and by the the horrific finale around Exmoor, I'll be super fit! That's a naive dream but one I'm clinging to.

One certain positive is that it'll all be over relatively soon!

The Route

The Cornwall Marathon is billed as being "as magical as it is monstrous"! I imagine the terrain will be similar to the exhilerating but debilitating rocky trails of South Devon, but the website makes a point of emphasising that this is 'true mountain goat territory'...

Apparently it's easier than South Devon, but harder than Portland. That suits me. I feel as though I'm getting stronger and my times reflect that, so perhaps despite my lack of training my residual fitness/endurance levels are increasing. I want to go sub 5 hours on this one, but the weather forecast is for 20mph winds: the last gusts of the monster storm that hit Cornwall this week.

Elevation Data

At a glance, this course looks much less hilly than South Devon, but in actual fact the scale of these hills is much bigger than those of the previous marathon. There are fewer climbs but they're bigger: many of the climbs are greater than 200ft, and again they're incessant! There's another huge climb right in the middle of the course, but thankfully there's a nice 3 mile slope toward the end of the course, albeit followed by a nasty looking climb to finish.

Looking at this and judging by my times in previous races, I need to run the first half in around 2hrs 15mins, without destroying myself. The first half seems tougher, and is on harder terrain also, being along the coast in what will be gruelling winds. If I can manage that time, 2hrs 45min should be enough to hobble along the second half to finish in under 5 hrs. Hopefully I'll be able to make up loads of time on that big slope at the end - a section that I have typically struggled horribly on.

Race Report

"Near the start of the race I'd heard someone say that it's impossible to make other people understand what you go through during these events. 3 hours into this one, 3 hours along the hardest terrain I've ever encountered, against a cold wind driving hard rain, with an injury that you recognise as serious and debilitating, facing up to the realisation that you probably have at least another 4 hours to go is truly something quite difficult to convey to others." Read on...

Official Website

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South Devon Marathon Race Report

2008-02-26T12:00:22+00:00

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Marathon number 3 - the one that started it all, significantly harder the first two , and just 4 weeks after Portland. Read the race report that includes vomit, Arnold schwarzenegger, and a boy named Sue (well, Daniella, actually)...

Two years ago I challenged a couple of mates to run what I then thought to be the hardest marathon in Britain, along the coastal path of south Devon. Thanks to a hellish weekend in Bulgaria, only one us made it (it wasn't me) and ever since I've regretted missing it. My friend Dan finished the South Devon Coastal Marathon in an heroic 6hrs 39mins after one training run that involved cutting a chunk out of his thigh. You can read his story here

To make up for missing it I decided to go one better - well, 5 better as a matter of fact - and create the '6 Marathon : 6 Month' challenge, running the UK's toughest races back to back to raise money for the superb wildlife charity the WWF, and so here we are: 4 months, 2 marathons and a dodgy knee later, and all that matters is beating Dan's time.

Snowdonia and Portland had both taken me around 5 and a half excruciatingly painful hours to run, but looking at the South Devon course info it was easy to see that it was going to be much, much harder.

A firework exploded in the sky and the race began. I joined the rear of a pack of a hundred or so men and women plucked straight out of the royal marines - sinewy muscles bulging beneath lycra shorts and stretching skin tight t-shirts, bumbags and camelpacks loaded with energy gels and isotonic drinks - and made a conscious effort to pace myself. For the first time in this challenge I knew what to expect, and I was sober and nervous where before I had been naive and excited. Psychologically I was better prepared, but that only meant that I was aware how hard these marathons are, and it made me serious. This was not a race, it was survival, a test of physical and mental stamina, and I'd be happy so long as I got round in under 6 hours. Although I'd finished them both, Snowdonia had broken me physically, and Portland had broken my spirit, and I couldn't let either happen again if I was to beat Dan's time.

Within seconds the course began a monster ascent, setting the theme of the day, and by the time I'd reached the top the leaders were already disappearing into the distance, and I found myself running between a Kermit the frog look-a-like who was singing to herself as she ran, and, by a huge stroke of fortune, a guy who looked a lot like Dan. I immediately decided that he would be my nemesis, and I named him Daniella to help motivate myself to beat him.

The first ten miles of the course follow the coastal path west from Beesands: a torturous, muddy, rocky track that zig-zags up and down the cliff face, practically vertically at times, offering no rest, no respite. The incredible views of the dramatic coastline stretching out ahead, savagely beautiful, only serving as cruel reminders of what pain is yet to come.

Pacing yourself is impossible on terrain like this. There is only one pace on the climbs and that's whatever keeps your legs moving while Satan stabs red hot pokers into your thighs, and going down - which is just as difficult - you have a choice of two equally tiring options: either you jar your legs against the ground to slow your run to a safe and manageable jog, or you let gravity do its job and fly hell for leather by the seat of your pants over the jagged and irregular rocks that make up the path, praying to every god you've heard of that you can keep your legs moving fast enough to stop you falling and that you get each foot placement perfect so as to avoid breaking an ankle and plummeting down to the rocky sea below. One is agonising, the other terrifying with the added bonus of being utterly exhausting, since you're careering downhill at a pace you could never normally maintain, but that you must maintain because if you tried to stop you're momentum would catapult you face first into the rocks.

Somewhere along here I lost Kermit, but Daniella and I were well matched, and we traded places along this hellish section. He was stronger and caught me on the climbs, but I was opting for the terrifying option on the descents and it was working. I was nimble enough to navigate the rocks at speed and I could see he was trying to keep pace with me, but it was tiring him, and I opened up a satisfying lead.

I had no idea how fast I was running since there are no mile markers along this stretch, but eventually I reached the 10 mile marker, and my watch read 1hr:59. 12 minute miles - fantastic. I was keeping pace with Portland, the course had been much tougher so far, and I felt stronger. I juiced up and began heading inland for the 16 mile loop back to the start/finish line, up the huge hill you can see on the elevation map above. No doubt I was tired, but I passed a few people at this station, Daniella was behind me, and I had the sense that I was running a solid race.

The hill was sapping though, and by the top of it Daniella had caught me again, and now he had his dad with him, cycling next to him and giving him a huge emotional boost. He picked up his pace and I couldn't match it. My legs felt as though they were beginning to tear apart, but they were still moving and my amazement at that fact kept me willing them to keep on moving. We were road running now, which made me nervous about my knee. There was pain in it where the injury had been, but it wasn't bad, just enough to make me aware, and to make me fear the steep, joint-jarring tarmac descents that had caused the problem round Snowdon.

A loose pack of about 5 or 6 runners built up here, including a guy I called Arnie, who came out of nowhere from behind me, surging past like a steam train, a 6ft5 machine with thighs thicker than my head, powering up hills that left my legs weak at the sight of them. This kind of thing is very bad for your morale, it makes you question your race plan, your strength, your very right to be competing with these people.

Daniella turned to encourage me. I took this as mockery and swore I'd beat him. But he was flagging. He was looking for support. He was weak! He asked me if I thought we were half way yet and I knew we were beyond it. I told him and passed him. He was broken. I saw in him what I had felt around Portland - it was defeat. I gained strength from this and passed Arnie going up a hill, at the top of which was a water station and the 15 mile marker: 2:52 - 10 minute miles!

11 miles to go - if I could manage to run the sort of pace I'd maintained for the first 10 miles I could beat 5 hours! I was on top of a hill, I'd passed a whole pack of people, and now I was really in a race. But the worst was yet to come. Other runners help you run at a good pace, keep you positive, provide huge support when you feel like you can't face another hill, let alone keep going along the flats, but now I was running solo, and the terrain was sucking the life out of me. The coastal section was treacherous and tiring, but it was also exhilarating and distracting, there was no time to catch your breath, let alone think. Out here running up these long, steep, grassy hills and then down tarmac country lanes into the depth of the valley, only to be sent back up to the top of another field, it was lonely and soul-destroying.

At the top of one of these hills there was another feeding station where a hero marshal fetched a brunch bar out of his car and gave it to me. It was mile 19 and somehow I was still on track. On I went, and at mile 20 Daniella's dad -who was waiting for his son - lied to me and told me I was at mile 22. Daniella had obviously sent him here to trick me, and foolishly I believed him. False hope is the worst thing you can give a man who is sure to discover the truth, but it did spur me on and as I passed some soldiers I gleefully encouraged them to go for sub-5hrs!

And then I was on the final stretch: flat for the rest of the way, I could see the finish and it was no more than 2 miles, round a wetland and then the home straight along the coast. Arnie caught me here and I knew he wouldn't be back. He powered along with huge strides that I just couldn't match, but no matter, the end was in sight and if I just kept running I'd beat 5 hours. A feeding station appeared at what I thought must be the last mile: "23.7 miles - 2 and a half to go!"

What?! No! How could this be?! My 5 hour dream was shattered and so was I. My whole motivation had been obliterated. With no chance of beating 5 hours, no competitors to race, and no challenge to beat my previous time, I had no drive, was in serious need of a crap, and was fighting a constant urge to vomit. I limped along the home straight toward the little town where the finish line was, only to find that this wasn't the little town where the finish line was at all! I had been duped, and now I had an enormous hill to climb! How did this happen?! I slogged up the hill and stumbled down the steps on the other side and onto the real home straight.

I was pretty pissed off by now. I'd been tricked into running up another huge hill and I wasn't going to beat my previous time. Not even the encouragement from runners who were packing up as I ran through the car park could energise me. But as I turned a corner and the finish came into sight, the crowd roared. There was one man - the organiser - at the finish when I came in at Portland, so I was overwhelmed by the unexpected cheering and clapping crowd that helped me over the finishing line, and that was so loud it truly surprised me and made me feel a little unworthy of it. An incredible feeling of ecstasy that is a mixture of accomplishment of something big ,and massive relief that that something is over, washes through you as you cross the finish line. It's a feeling everyone should experience as often as possible.

I actually collapsed this time. I had run the hardest, and fastest I could, for 5hrs 31mins 14secs. 2.5 mins slower than the much easier Portland Marathon. Time I would have made up had I studied the course more closely!

I came 69th out of 102 starters - 7 did not finish. I wonder if Daniella was one of them!

The next marathon is only 3 weeks after this one, and is along the north Cornwall coast.

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