Vilamoura

OK, so you have your gear all ready for a grand all expenses paid work conference in Portugal... smart casual clothes, evening attire for the posh gala dinner, euros, shoes.... and then someone emails you and suggests your first ultra (all be it a baby one of 29.3 miles) for 5 weeks time. Well, whats a girl to do? So, along with posh frocks and killer heels went running gear, a Camelbak, weighted vest and trainers... and the promise of an early night and no alcohol at the gala dinner.

Sunday morning arrived, and after a respectable bedtime of 12.30am and only 1 glass of champagne, I walked to the lift in my running gear to get breakfast at 8am. There were people milling all over the place in ball gowns and tuxedos who hadn't gone to bed at all. In the breakfast room more people were there still in their evening attire... and the shocking thing? They thought that it was ME that was mad for being there in running gear!!!

So, after feeling very proud of myself for sticking to my guns, I went back up to the room and donned the rest of my running apparel. My room mate watched on with horror as I put on the 2 litre full Camelbak, cap, sunglasses and my weighted vest. I think her words were, "Oh my God you're like a proper athlete". Nice as those words are to hear, unfortunately I know them to be far from true... however it made me feel good all the same!

I had worked out my route the day before on the way to a wine tasting excursion (which again, I didn't drink hardly anything at). I was pleased to see that the route was very flat. We turned off on a separate route but the driver had told me to aim towards Albufera as the road went on for around 10 miles. My aim was around 14-15 miles so that was perfect on an out and back run.

So, I began at the hotel and ran for around 3 miles out to the main road. It was pretty tiring but I hadn't noticed (until the return journey) that it was ever so slightly uphill all the way. Getting onto the main road I could see my route ahead for what looked like miles. Normally I don't like to see how far I have to go, but it was a comforting feeling what with being in a strange place. I could see at the very end of the road it took a sharp incline, but I would probably be turning back by then.

The weather was lovely, very sunny and warm but not unbearable. No wind and an absolute STACK of cyclists on the road. They all looked very serious about their sport, riding very expensive looking bikes and having the full regalia. They all looked at me like I'd lost the plot... some of them actually turning around once they had past me. It was as if I had three heads or something. Maybe running isn't something that's done a lot here?

Before I know it, I'm as far I could see on the road ahead and I'm running uphill and round a sharp bend. 2 cyclists on the same side of the road as me look at me in a bemused manner! So far I've stuck with the run/walks as I'm supposed to, and as I get to the top of this hill I feel like I'm hyperventilating it's so steep. It's nice and flat now and I get another 5 minute walk break which is more than needed. All too soon I'm running again and I'm devastated to be running down a very steep and very long never ending hill... this means at some point I have to run back up this! About 20 cyclists who appear to be all out together pass me and they wave their arms in the air at me and cheer. I wave back.

I'm at the bottom of the hill now and still have about 7 minutes of running before I can turn back. I look at the steep hill a little way in front of me and think, "It's only 7 minutes, and I'll be able to run back down it". I grit my teeth and push on.

When you're running uphill, 3 minutes is a long time.(Which is how long I was running uphill). With about 5 seconds to go and breathing like a 40 fags a day smoker, I push on to try and get to the white van parked at the very top. God, I'm knackered and as I turn around to make the journey home, it even hurts to run downhill. My breathing is all over and I try to control it a little better by taking deeper breaths. It has suddenly got very hot (although only about 13 degrees, it is around 10 degrees higher than I have been used to running in lately). I'm already dreading the mahoosive hill where I waved to the cyclists!

All too soon, that hill is about to be ran. The bonus here is that my 25 minute running stint will be over about half way up, and I will get to walk the rest. I run on this hill for around 3 to 4 minutes before the walk break comes. I spent the last 2 minutes pushing myself to the next signpost... the next tree... the next signpost then there's only 30 seconds to go... etc.
I'm well and truly knackered when it comes to walk and am amazed I hadn't given up earlier, however this part of the run really took it's toll and I had to run/walk the rest of the way back (3 extra walk breaks in the next 25 minute stint and 4 in the next section).

However, I did it! I could easily have decided that it was a once a year conference and the free bar was too good to go to waste, I could have stayed up partying all night and not even considered running... but I ran 14.61 miles while everybody else went to bed. A feat in itself I think!