We woke at 1am and got dressed and all sorted. We had asked the hotel to book us a taxi for 2am and they had left us a note through the bottom of our door saying they would take us in the hotel car with their compliments. I felt a tad embarrassed by this, as a few days earlier when we had enquired where the nearest cash point was, again they got the chauffeur to take us with their compliments... a very smart looking man dressed head to toe in black with pristine white gloves who opened the door to one of the flashiest black Jaguars I have ever seen, and waited by the door until we returned so he was able to open the door again for us. I was worried the other runners would think we were royalty or something! I needn't have been concerned however, as we got there early enough that the others didn't see us get out of the car. We walked up to Jewels de Paragon where the other runners stood. It was already 21 degrees and muggy at this time of the morning... not a good omen!
Immediately you could sense the friendliness and pure camaraderie of the event as people shook hands, hugged, smiled, high fived and chatted. Arwin, one of the Runners for Life organisers asked us how we came to be there, and introduced us to Jacob, last years' winner of the 100KM race. Jacob was funny, commenting on how shit it was to be a long distance runner because you had to get up at a ridiculous time of the morning to do these races, couldn't drink beer the night before and there was nowhere to get breakfast. He said he was really looking forward to lunch.
The bus journey was a bumpy affair, and as we neared Hessarghatta the roads became even more unstable and lumpy. Arwin asked how we had trained for today, so we told him about the occasional trail run (which became an issue for us of late because of the dark mornings and nights) and Amsterdam marathon. He looked at me very worryingly, "Amsterdam is flat... this is a very technical trail" and then added, "And I'm not going to lie to you Claire, it's going to get very hot out there on the trail, you need to make sure you look after yourself". I suddenly became very nervous. It was 1 hour and 30 minutes to "Flag off". Time to take my Complan.
We finally got to Hessarghatta and I made a beeline for the toilet. The Complan had gone through me like a train! I used up all of the toilet paper in one portaloo and then moved on to the next. I was the most nervous I have ever been in my life, and after 2 Imodium tablets there seemed to be no let up.
I looked around at the start line and commented to Arjin (another Runners for Life organiser) that I had watched videos on YouTube with this very scene... dark with bright lights everywhere, music blaring out and people standing around nervously. I said it seemed surreal that I was finally here! I looked at one bloke called Mike with a Canada vest on. He looked the epitome of an ultra runner... buff tied expertly around his head with an expensive looking head torch perched on top, chiseled calves that looked like they had seen many a trail run, and that unmistakable ultra runners tan. He looked like he would eat this trail up for breakfast then pop off for a little jog later to loosen up.
I had met another Runners for Life organiser on the Friday who was sorting out a new bib for me with my name correct on it, and he shouted me over as it was ready to collect. It was the most bizarre of feelings as you just seemed to be one of the well known runners here... everybody knew every bodies name, and it was as though you had been coming to these events for years and were to spoken to as if you were a true friend. I liked it... it made me like India even more than I already did.
So, "Flag off" came, and they got all of the 100K and 75K runners in front of the start line. There weren't many of us, as a lot of people had dropped out or changed categories to a smaller distance. I believe 27 of us were competing in the 75KM with a similar number doing the 100KM. I had a head torch (as did many others) however they gave torches to those without and said to be very careful on the trail as was practically an unused trail which has not been smoothed over by previous traffic due to its lack of use and we should take it very very easy in the dark. They spoke of how Bangalore Ultra was the race that other events in India aspired to, and they were proud to have us all there. And then... bang on time...to the second...we were off.
It really was a very very slow start, everybody taking the advice that the terrain would be difficult and to take it easy quite literally. I'm used to being in races where people fly out of the pens... not here, it was ridiculously slow. However, my intention today was to start off slow and easy, so other people ahead of me dictating the pace were doing me a favour. I pulled up my arm so I could see the pace on my Garmin in the light of my head torch. 13.42 minute miles! No sooner had I seen it, I almost went head first into a tree. I best pay attention, I thought! The terrain was horrible, very rocky and irritating bumps in the trail on each step that made you feel like you were on a roller coaster. One of the hardest trail runs I have done (as I haven't done many) was Grimsthorpe Half Marathon. This made Grimsthorpe look like (and feel like) a newly laid smooth tarmac road. I thought about my friend Kerry, and how she would absolutely hate this. I wasn't too enamoured by it myself!
The trail carried on and there was a stream of tiny white lights from other runners head torches ahead of me, and a stream behind. Every time I lost my concentration I would trip on a rock, or a bump in the trail, or a tree, or something else and I would almost go headlong into the runner in front. I wasn't alone in this, as everyone was the same and all you could hear around you was, "Oops,ouch, oh...sorry". I had to concentrate or I'd be out of this race in the first loop! Already by not seeing the little bumps in the trail ahead, my muscles were jarring as a foot landed in a different place than anticipated and twisted my ankle slightly. I dreaded to think how I would feel after 6 laps of this.
When my first 5 minute walk break came, I was not embarrassed to walk at all, having previously overtaken 4 runners who were already walking. I couldn't help but be amazed at how different the atmosphere of this was, even compared to the distance of a marathon. My breathing was terrible and I felt as though all cardiovascular fitness had upped and left me. I took my inhaler as there was a lot of red dust from the trail being kicked up, and I thought that a trip to the Doctors was in order when I got home, as my asthma had been horrendous lately and maybe I need a review.
As I'm getting closer to the halfway turnaround point on the loop I see Jacob flying past me like this is a total breeze. "Hey Newcastle", he cheerily shouts as we weaves expertly across the ground. I then see another head torch coming my way and hear very loud singing... it's Mike the Canadian looking strong. So it's true what they say, some ultra runners really do sing. It made me laugh as I found the whole thing quite entertaining.
Coming back was a little easier as daybreak arrived. I looked down at my trainers and gaiters and they were a rusty red colour... and to think, had it not been for William saying I really must wear gaiters, I probably wouldn't have entertained them. Already I had seen one or two people stop to remove something from their shoe, and I was really glad I was wearing them and didn't have to do that.
I looked down at my Garmin to see it was only seconds until Graemes' 50K race started, and I knew because the organisation here was so fantastic he would certainly be starting on time. I was looking forward to seeing him and it wasn't too long as I travelled towards the start line and he travelled towards the halfway point that we saw each other. He was on a 5 minute walk break and greeted me with, "Jesus, I bet this was a right bastard in the dark". Now there lay quite an understatement.
Just before the turnaround point for the next loop was a baggage stop. This was for runners on the trail who needed stuff during the race. I know a lot of people only took gels, etc, enough for each loop, and got what they needed before each loop. I had everything in my Saloman backpack, however stopped here briefly to swap my head torch for sunglasses. I then jogged around the post clearly marked "Turn around here" to huge cheers and, "Good job Claire" from a lot of onlookers. I felt like a celebrity!
The second loop was where my main difficulty began. I couldn't breathe for some reason, and felt like I had a tight belt around my chest constricting the movement of my lungs. I loosened 2 of the 3 hooks on my sports bra which only gave a minuscule amount of relief. To make matters even worse, every time I started to run I felt like I was going to throw up. Jesus... what's wrong with me? The terrain made 15:5 run/walk not ideal so I ran the easy parts and walked the more difficult bits, trying not to be sick. It wasn't that it was hilly... far from it... it was just really tough and quite jarring if you misplaced a foot. I caught sight of Graeme and was amazed to hear him say he felt like he also was going to be sick every time he started running. I took solace that I wasn't alone, and possibly other runners were feeling the same. Maybe it was the heat, as already it was very warm. Everybody you spoke to before the race seemed highly concerned about how hot it was going to get and humidity was higher than that of late too. My right foot had the burning sensation on the heel indicating the start of a blister, but with my Compeed being all the way back at the baggage drop, that would have to wait to get sorted.
As I neared 13 miles... the show stopper... heat cramps right up both calves and hamstrings. They weren't the light cramps that can occur early on in a race, but severe shock waves warning that if you aren't careful, you'll be lying at the side of the road in agony and your race will be over. This was very alarming. I looked at a big A-Frame distance board and scanned down to the 6th loop. It seemed a long way to go with cramp. I would be devastated if I couldn't carry on, and thought that if it took walking all the way to the finish, then that's what I'd do... yes, I'd walk 33.6 miles to the end if that's what it took. Jesus... 33.6 miles of walking with cramp? I suddenly felt very daunted at the prospect. I began to walk with a strong stride... maybe the cramps will pass!
At the end of the second loop I got to the baggage point and carefully removed my trainer to reveal a huge blister traversing down from my heel on the left foot. I slapped a Compeed on it and hoped for the best. To be honest, it was the least of my worries.
At the turnaround for the third loop I jogged around to huge cheers of onlookers only to feel the huge jolt of cramps travel across my calves and hamstrings. DAMMIT!!! I'd been taking my gels religiously every 45 minutes and had sipped coconut water and plain water periodically. All but the plain water made me feel beyond sick. I was getting to the point where I was dreading taking the gels and wretched at the prospect, although I still took them. And I couldn't understand why coconut water tasted so vile... it had been like nectar in training! I had in my head an "Are you feeling shit?" list. Keeping up electrolytes was an important part of that list, and with cramp already here, I couldn't afford for it to get any worse. Lots of people were pouring water over themselves, but for now I was OK. A lot of people were now walking too. I lathered factor 50 suncream thickly on all exposed skin and carried on.
After I'd gone through the halfway turnaround point on the third loop I saw Graeme again. He told me he'd had to go to 5 minutes run and 5 minutes walk as his legs were killing him. He looked in a bad way and said, "What have you got me into here?". I have never seen him look so bad in a race before and found it quite shocking. I told him about the cramps and I would have to walk from here. The words reeled around my head. I have given up on races in the past for much less pain than this, but now, after 7 months preparation, I HAD to keep going. I had to teach my brain that it wasn't the boss, and today, strong will and true grit would get me through the race. If other people can do it, so can I!
The third turnaround for the fourth loop came and I was already unable to run for even a short time and so had to walk around there to "Yay, go Claire...all of these cheers are just for you". I smile for the multitude of clicking cameras. Despite feeling so bad, I still find myself in a very good mood at this point. All along the route people clap and say, "Good job Claire", some even shake their head in disbelief that I'm still going with such bad cramp. I also get a lot of people commenting on how strong and fast a walker I am. I've been averaging a 15mm... 4 miles an hour, however on the last loop this went up to 16 something. I'm annoyed I can't get my legs to move faster. Graeme is quite close to me now and I hope he's on a walk break when he gets to me, as I feel like I need a bit of company. He's been going well and is now on his fourth loop too.
My blister has gone from feeling like a squelchy cushioned pillow to nothing at all. It has obviously burst but feels much more comfortable. I thought ahead to getting back to the hotel that night and completely dreaded the prospect of taking that Compeed plaster off... that was gonna cause some pain! For now, it felt good though, and I was grateful.
Number 4 on the "Are you feeling shit?" list... Have you stopped sweating? Yes, I have. I sip rancid coconut water while trying not to wretch and take my gel at the allotted time. As I go through the aid station I chuck a cup of cold water over my head and one down my back. I walk on, amazed to see quite a few men in my distance category behind me, with me being around half a loop ahead. They all congratulate me on how well I'm doing and I say the same back. There's a lot of 37.5K and 25K runners on the route now. I expected it to be a crowded nightmare, but it wasn't at all. I began to sweat again after around 10 minutes. Good job Claire!
Graeme caught up with me and said he would have a 10 minute walk break with me. I felt like all of my Christmases had come at once and we chatted and laughed and talked about how we had totally underestimated how tough the terrain would be at this race. We walk up to 2 Indian men walking towards us singing the Party Rock Anthem... "Every day I'm shuffling". It was hilarious and made us laugh for ages afterwrds. Looking back it doesn't seem so funny, but it really was at the time!
As Graemes' 10 minute walk break came to an end, he switched off his Gymboss and said he would just walk the rest of his last loop with me. It was a great loop and I felt ridiculously pleased to have him there. For somebody who loves the solitude of long distance running, this was a strange emotion to have. Each loop was now taking around 2 hours to complete, so for the best part of two hours I had the best company ever. We laughed and joked and it was great. At one point (and now around 3/4 of a loop ahead of me) we had seen Mike. I asked him why he wasn't singing anymore as I needed entertaining. He laughed and carried on. He was also walking now.
As we neared the end of the 50K race for Graeme, and a turnaround for the fifth loop for me, I felt incredibly low. I wished with every fibre of my being I had only entered the 50K race and couldn't help but think I was a total idiot for attempting a bloody long distance (almost twice the amount I'd raced before) in such a hot place on my first attempt at an ultra. My brain started talking to me... "You've done an ultra now.. what difference does it make? Plenty other people have already dropped out of the 75 because it's so hard, why not you? Go on, you know you want to... Finish with Graeme and you can both go and sit down and this Hell will be over. Go on, go and sit down... you know you want to more than anything in the world. Stop now and this pain will all be over..."
FUCK OFF!!!! I was livid... why am I trying to talk myself out of this? I told my brain, "FUCK OFF FUCK OFF FUCK OFF FUCK OFF... You're not getting your own way, so you're just going to have to deal with it"
Graeme had ran on ahead so he could go through the finish line running instead of walking, and as I neared the road to the turnaround (and finish) point, my whole lower body spasmed. It was horrible. I stopped dead in my tracks and a female photographer came rushing over to me, "Are you OK?". I took a deep breath, stood up tall and without even looking at her replied, "Yes, I'm fine", and I carried on, around the turnaround point, back along the road and back out onto the trail. "Woohooo, awesome job Claire... keep going!". The words rang in my ears. This was NOT an awesome job. I was failing miserably at ultra running, in fact, I was bloody terrible at it. Two more loops... Two more loops...Two more loops... only one third of the race to do and it's over!
I'm walking up the trail and momentarily stopping as waves of cramp shoot through me. I then get the most horrendous pain in my right quad. I can only liken it to somebody giving you a dead leg. "RIGHT", I think to myself..."YOU can go and get fucked too. How dare you hurt me like this... all of those squats I've put you through, all that running in a weighted vest... well, don't think you're going to stop me either, because you can just piss right off". I push my thumb into the sore spot and press as hard as I can. "Right, that's you sorted... now fuck off and leave me alone!" I then concentrate on my brain and tell it where it can go too. For someone so driven and motivated, I have a pretty shit brain with no willpower at all. Well, it's time to sort yourself out, I thought!
As I'm coming out of my mini meltdown, I overtake Princy who is also walking due to bad heat cramps. He's been walking for the last 2 loops and is doing the 100K. Still in second place, he's joking that it's barely past noon and the heat is unbearable. He tells me to take on some salt, it may help with the cramp. I take a spoonful and lick it like it was sherbert. Urghh. It tastes vile. I chuck it away.
Not long after, Jacob catches up with me and slows to a walk. It's too hot, he says, and he can't be arsed to go balls out after lapping Princy. He says it's 32 degrees, he's just been told as he started this loop. 32 DEGREES!!! Jesus, I can't even sunbathe when it's that hot, let alone function. I chuck another cup of water over my head and one down my back. Jacob tells me to try their electrolyte drink, it might help with the heat cramps as it's very good. Graeme had said the same and had also used it. I normally don't try anything new in a race, but at this point I pretty much didn't have anything to lose. Jacob carried on, and at the next aid station I had the electrolyte drink. It didn't taste bad at all and more importantly, didn't make me feel sick.
When I got to the halfway through the loop point, I gave myself my reward I had promised myself for getting there... 2 paracetomol for the pain, which I swilled down with electrolyte drink and then did the now regular pouring of a cup of water down my back and one over my head. My next reward was to drop my Salomon backpack off with Graeme so I didn't have the extra weight for the last loop. I suddenly felt very chipper. I only had one and a half loops to go, and I was done. I will become an ultra distance runner (although using the term runner was way off the mark) and I will have done that daunting distance that this morning I set out to do. I put my iPod on and started singing loudly to all of the songs. Meeting people coming the other way, they all laughed at me. There's something special about singing "Wonderwall" at the top of your voice and causing others to smile. I felt good, in fact, I felt really good! The cramp had subsided considerably, although running now simply wasn't an option... that ship had long since sailed! I saw Mike again (also still walking, also still 3/4 of a lap ahead). He asked me had I lost my buddy, and I explained that Graeme had finished his race. He said he wished we had too.
With only 1KM left on the fifth loop, my legs spasm badly again and I bend forward at the waist to try and stretch them. They feel a little better, but for some reason this last 1KM gets me every time. I don't know if it's the rocky surface or the long slow downhill, but the cramp hits me bad every time I reach this point. I try desperately not to knock the front of my trainers on rocks or anything else, as the jolt I feel while trying to correct a mistake is very painful. It's starting to feel never ending now, and I'm wondering when the pain is going to stop and this agony is going to end. I tell myself off again with a barrage of profanities and carry on.
I go around the turnaround point for my final loop to "Way to go Claire...good job". Graeme is there, ready to collect my backpack, but I decide to keep it on so it can protect my back from the sun. He tells me I have another 3 hours left before the cut off and I'm going to finish no problem. I tell him I feel OK and I'll see him in a couple of hours. As I leave the crowds, Sabine, a 50K runner who has finished her race, shakes her head and says she can't believe I'm still going. "Come on Claire, one more loop and this Hell on Earth will all be over"
As I get out into the heat of the sun, I take my phone out to listen to some more music. I have 2 messages from Kerry and Paula wishing me well. I text them both back telling them that child birth is easier than this. (In retrospect... child birth actually IS easier!) I text my mam too but get no reply. Sunday is a busy day for her and I know she won't even look at her phone, but I constantly check to see if she's replied. No, nothing! Oh well, never mind! It's amazing what gets you down when you're emotionally and physically drained. It's also amazing what gives you a lift! I see a part of the route that lasts maybe 300 metres. It is now all in the shade. YOU BEAUTY!!! I enjoy a respite from the sun which has now become intolerable. I haven't seen many people running for a while now...everybody seems to be walking exclusively, but I see a 37.5K runner jogging towards me at a snails pace. I so want to tell him he's wasting energy and it would be quicker to walk, but he looks at me, claps his hands and tells me I'm doing an amazing job because 75K is such a long way. I ask him if it's his last lap... it is! I tell him he's doing fantastic and this agony will soon be over for us both.
The sun is now relentless and I can barely take anymore. Graeme had told me a lot of people had dropped out of the 75 and 100K, simply saying, "That's it... I'm done" I just wish I was done too! Up ahead, and to my complete amazement, I see the 2nd placed female in the 75K. She looks in a bad way and is holding her back. I thought about the deadlifts I do, and the fact that my back is probably the only thing that hasn't bothered me during this race. I started to wonder if I could catch her. Just then, the leader in my category, Sumedha, walks towards me. I clap and tell her she's done amazing and she smiles and looks relieved she's on her way back.
It doesn't take long and I've caught up with Mrs number 2 (I'm afraid I'm unable to recall her name). She chats to me for a while, telling me she normally runs 100 milers, but today everything has gone wrong for her. First her knees started, and now she has horrendous back pain. She comments on my walking ability, and says people underestimate being able to walk strong and fast. It is an acquired skill and needs to be practised, and I do it well. We stay together right up until the aid station at the halfway point, where she stays a little longer. I thank the staff there and say I won't be back as I'm nearly done and receive huge applause.
Suddenly, everything goes wrong. The awful pain in my right quad is back but has now been equally matched in pain on the left quad. I wonder if I've caused this myself by trying to speed up and catch the second placed runner. I bend forward to try and press my thumbs into the muscle, but the pain is so bad that I can't even bear to touch the skin. My walk has now slowed from a previous 17mm to a 19mm and the second placed girl catches up with me and asks if I'm OK. I tell her about the cramp and it's been here for most of the race, and I bend forward to try and stop the pain in my calves and hamstrings, and tell her I'll be fine. She powers off and looks strong. It seems only seconds later and the girl currently in fourth place walks towards me. Wow, she's walking good and strong... much better than me! At some point during this race I began to care about not being last female, however, it seemed my fate at the moment. I tried to remember how far she had to go before she could turn around, but I couldn't for the life of me remember.
As I neared the next aid station, the second placed girl was there. She left just before I did as I needed to get something to drink. Number 6 on the "Are you feeling shit?" list... Has your mouth gone dry and are you unable to spit? ... Yes.... Dehydrated!
As I leave, I am again forced to bend forward at the waist to elleviate the frighteningly sharp shock waves of cramp shooting down my hamstrings and calves. Mrs 2nd place comes back to me and gives me an orange. I thought that was lovely of her.
I carry on, and as I'm going down the only tarmac part of the course (around 100 metres) I see her running. Wow, I thought, she deserves second place. Good on her! I look back to see if I can see the girl in fourth place. Not yet!
This is just now pure hell. I know I can finish, but I don't feel cheerful at all. I reminded myself I was still doing well as I saw male 75K racers coming towards me, around 3/4 of a loop behind me, and Mike must only have finished around 3/4 in front of me..."Mr Ultrarunner"... if you'd told me this morning I would finish that close to him I'd have been ecstatic. I was too tired to be ecstatic, my mouth was dry and my legs were in the most pain they had ever endured in my life. I needed some more water and wished the aid station was a little nearer.
It was along this unbreathably scorching section of trail that Princy caught up with me... also on his last loop (of the 100K). His walking was more powerful than mine though, and he was gone pretty sharpish. Another 75K runner, Dev, was coming towards me on his last lap. I said I thought there were better ways to spend a Sunday than this, which made him laugh. The course was marked out absolutely perfectly and the KM markers matched up to my Garmin with equivalent miles perfectly. I thought that was so unusual, as I often finish marathons having done half a mile more than I should have.
I kept looking behind me for the fourth placed woman. She was nowhere in sight. I was going to finish third, and I was happy with that! I got water at the next aid station, thanked them for all of their help during the race, and carried on. I remember that last 1KM stretch of trail being the longest I have ever encountered. Peppered with having to bend forward at the waist to stretch the backs of my legs, I was having to take baby steps just to get to the finish line because my quads were in agony.
As I reached the final aid station, everybody stood up and clapped. Less than 300 metres to go and still walking, I waited until I saw the finishing clocks and pulled every bit of strength I had in me and ran the very last part. It wasn't pretty as I ran through the finish line in 12:27:52 to loads of cheering people.
I immediately went over to a soft foam area and lay down... the first rest and the first time I'd stopped moving that day! Princy was there and congratulated me on such a great effort. I returned the congratulations... cramp had not beaten us today! I looked for the girl who came second, but couldn't see her. Graeme didn't know who I was talking about...nobody had come through that he could think of, and he'd been there the whole time!
It was maybe 10 minutes later, as I dragged myself up to walk to where my bag was, the man who had sorted my bib out for me came running over. "You're not going are you?", he said. I told him I was going for my bag, but he explained it would have to wait as they were about to call my name on stage. I was first runner up! No... surely not... am I not second runner up? I thought. But no... as I stood there, they announced that the first runner up in the Female Open Category (age 45 and under) was Claire Abbey. They called me up on stage, and I joked that I wouldn't be able to get up the steps... in truth, I very nearly didn't. Graeme was very proud, even more proud than I was, I think. I do wonder what happened to Mrs number 2 though... I hope she was OK.
The bus journey home was horrendous, and having to get from bus to tuk tuk was almost impossible as I had to negotiate a tree root and couldn't make my legs move at all. I had to be supported while standing as my muscles didn't work and I can't describe the pain I felt.
However, 3 days later, I'm writing this and have come away relatively unscathed. I have a small blister on my left heel (Compeed saved the day) and a small amount of chaffing on my back from where I was stupid enough to unfasten two hooks on my bra during the race.
I can now walk perfectly well (up and down stairs also) although still feel a little stiff after sitting for a long time and not moving around.
Never once during the race did I ever think that this ultra would be my last... yes, I did think that I was absolutley useless at the whole thing (an opinion that hasn't changed) but even during the most agonising of times in the race I kept thinking what I would do to change things for my next one. And yes, there IS a next one planned, although I think my training will have to change considerably, as Bangalore was easy compared to what I want to do later next year. I do have to (of course) check with "The Bosses" and ask them do they think it's possible for me to finish and will I have it in me by then to do it, but I shall reveal all about that soon!
And the best news? William is doing an 8 day race in Monaco and was going through a tough patch. He found out how I had got on in my race and it helped him through his iffy stage. That made me so happy when I found that out. I'd like to think I cheered up a few people throughout my ultra debut. :-)
I can't even begin to imagine how you managed all that - fanfeckingtastic. "Well done" just doesn't cover it. Very very proud of you xx
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