I felt much fresher getting up on Saturday morning and was so grateful for the sleeping tablet. Graeme said I had been very snuffly all night, and quite frankly, minus a sleeping tablet I would not have been able to sleep through it. I had breakfast which was equally as shit as the meal the night before. I had forgotten my running sunglasses (which stressed me out further) so Graeme said he would find a running shop and buy me some. Kerry and Terry went to Morrisons for a few bits and bobs and said they would get me some granola so I could have something decent to eat. My plan was to go to my room and be on my own for a while and try and get my head in the right place. This isn't something I normally want to do, but today I just wanted to be left alone. I slept for another half an hour and got ready. Kerry came to the room with some muesli and almond milk and I enjoyed a big bowl of it. I felt a little nervous as I put my race kit on, but it didn't last long and I was able to distract myself with TV. Graeme came back to the room with some Adidas Adizero sunglasses and I really liked them. He'd made a good choice!
We set off to go to the race venue at about half 11 and with Terrys' navigational skills we got there relatively quickly. There weren't many people there yet, so Graeme and Terry negotiated the tent as I registered and picked up my number. I spoke briefly to a couple of other runners who both said they were 24 hour virgins. That made me feel a bit more relaxed as I expected to be the only one who didn't know what I was doing. Kerry and I got a cup of coffee and we sat in the car so I could keep warm. It wasn't a cold day, but the wind was freezing. We had found out that support runners were not limited to the 6 hours during the night and could run with us as much as we wanted. Kerry told me there and then that if I wanted her to run more than 6 hours then that was fine with her. I wondered how I would feel by midnight. I was keeping my cold at bay by using solpadeine/paracetomol/panadol (not all together... obviously) and at that moment in time I felt fine. Maybe the cold wouldn't be an issue after all? I was pleased and hopeful at the thought of that! I also met Keith from Vegan Runners before the "off". He'd seen I was entered into a local (for him) race and had come down to support me. I thought that was very nice of him, seeing as I'd never ever met him before
At the start of the challenge, Mike, the race director took a rocket and fired it off... we were to go on the 'bang'. It banged and we were off. I laughed as I went past Kerry holding a sign saying, "GO CABBEY GO". I wasn't expecting signage and it made me smile. I settled into my 3:3 run/walk and was grateful that it was now time for me to stop thinking about everything. I'd had to plan everything so diligently, and now it was time for my support crew to do that for me. It was a massive relief to know that, and I trusted the people I had with me more than I can say
The route was very pretty. There was a lot of rapeseed flowering, which is a thing that kills me with hayfever, although since becoming vegan this has not been as bad for some reason. I still took a hayfever tablet as there was so much of it in the fields. My Gymboss alarmed every 3 minutes, alerting me to the time for walking or running, and I kept passing Mike who was doing a 3000 mile challenge followed by the 3 peaks. He was a nice chap and said he was just running to how he felt and if he wanted to walk then he'd just do it as and when. People were very interested in each others run/walk strategies. Everyone looked quite interested in my 3:3 and a few commented it was something they would like to try as it sounded great. One bloke called David was running a mile and walking a mile, another girl was running 0.7 of a mile and walking the 0.3. Before coming here today I had wondered if I would be frowned upon for having such a plan in mind with so much walking, but it was quite the opposite. Derren, a really nice bloke who I got to run with for a while had to really talk himself out of changing to my 3:3 run/walk as it's just not the sort of thing you do on race day. He was running the first lap (which he said was, "showing willing") and then run/walking the rest on a sort of 'how you feel' basis, a bit like how Mike was doing it, I suppose.
The course was very pretty and I liked it. I wanted to fully enjoy it but couldn't really as there was a lot of chatter amongst runners. I don't mean that to sound antisocial, but I think at that point I wanted to savour every moment. In the back of mind I knew I'd get to savour far too many moments in the following hours. I saw a swan nesting at 2 miles which was very sweet, a scary looking barn (which I thought would probably spook me in the dark) at about 2.5 miles and as I was running up a bit of farm track, Mike told me I was about to hit "Tourettes Hill". I ran round the corner and there was a big hill in front of us. I wasn't expecting that, and said so to the cameraman when I got to the top of it. It wasn't hard to run up, but I made the decision then and there that irrelevant of how early on into the race I was, from now on I would always walk up that and save some energy.
After a long tarmac road we were back onto grass tracks again and before I knew it I was at the 4 mile marker. I was feeling really warm now and a couple of us commented to each other we needed a wardrobe change as the cold wind was only really there for a short amount of time and it was mostly very warm. I ran through the aid station (which counts as a doubler for mile 1 and mile 4) and ran back along the tracks to a big muddy section and sent a huge splash of mud up my 2XU tights. I was wearing gaiters (unlike everyone else) but was glad of them as I heard a couple of people saying they had crap in their shoes. I felt like I had crap in my shoes, but I knew it was psychological. Soon I'm at the 5 mile marker and going past another aid station. They all stand and cheer and call my name (which was on my bib) and then it was a quite lovely run back along the road into the village. I passed a pub called The Gate Inn and heard familiar voices. It was Kerry and Terry and they were cheering while holding up a pint. I hadn't expected to see them as I thought they were going back into town to get something to eat and then I thought Kerry would be relaxing before she was going to run with me. I knew they wanted to watch the Grand Prix qualifier, and I wondered when it was on.
I got back to camp and there was a lot of hustle and bustle. The plan on each loop was to ring Graeme at 5 miles and tell him what I needed. I hadn't rang as I didn't want anything other than the toilet. I went to the portaloo to hear someone in there sounding like they were either very caught up with "the runs" or they were having a baby. I decided not to wait and carried on for the second loop.
The wind was really cold again, and I realised I'd forgotten to take my long sleeved top off. Oh well, I would just have to wait until I got back again. The 3:3 was working as well in the race as it had in training and I was enjoying myself. The tablets I'd been taking were working for my cold and I was in a place where I felt very happy. I passed all of the landmarks I'd discovered on the first loop... the swan nesting, the scary barn, tourettes hill, mile 4 marker, cheery people at the mile 5 aid station, The Gate Inn and before I knew it I was back at camp. As I walked up I saw Terry, and again was surprised that they were still here. It was nice to see them. I got Graeme to help me pull my long sleeved top off and again attempted to go to the loo. A supporter moved aside so I could go before her, but knowing that someone was outside made me unable (yet again) to go. I'm afraid I'm not good with toilet stuff when in the company of others. They reckon ultra runners lose all of their inhibitions, but I couldn't see that happening to me!
It was during the third loop when something went wrong. I couldn't breathe and the 3:3 became difficult. I was totally alone now with no other runners to chat to. That didn't bother me, but what did concern me was that only 14 or so miles into this and I was feeling so horrible. I blew my nose and couldn't believe how bunged up I'd suddenly become. I felt dreadful. I considered listening to music to try and take my mind off things then disregarded it because I had such a bad headache that the thought of music didn't seem the pleasurable experience it's meant to be! I really struggled for the whole loop. I stuck to the 3:3 irrelevant of how it was making me feel and then I saw Keith from Vegan Runners UK riding along on his bike. He asked if I wanted a picture taken for the website and I said that that would be nice, thank you. He rode around the corner and took one as I ran round. I have to say that I'm good at putting on a false smile. I felt ill when this photo was taken.
At 5 miles I rang Graeme and asked him for some potatoes and some Gatorade. The potatoes have been a finely tuned recipe. Originally a Delia Smith invention, it has been tweaked for what I felt I would need during a race of this nature. It has the carbs needed and has Himalayan pink salt added which is full of electrolytes plus some finely chopped onions for inflammatory purposes. I walked back into camp and had a few of those with some Gatorade, Panadol and another hayfever tablet as Graeme said he thought the rapeseed was probably making me feel rough alongside the cold. Kerry and Terry were still there and they agreed with me when I said I was going to walk a loop and try and put myself right. Everyone else was walking full laps already, and I wasn't bothered that I felt I needed to do this already. The hope was that eating something and having some medication would put me right and I'd be all set for loop 5 on the 3:3 again. Kerry said they were off back to the hotel now and would see me later. I was sure that by then I would be back to my normal self. The tablets had really worked well for the first couple of loops so I looked forward to that better feeling returning.
The next loop (which took me toward the 26.2 mile point) went well until 22 miles. I needed to blow my nose and suddenly the thought of doing so made me retch. It came from nowhere and surprised me. I had to really concentrate on something else and breathe deeply so as not to throw up. Each blow of my nose made me gag, but I got it sorted. I started to feel really sick and wondered if I maybe needed to eat something more. I had a bag of salted popcorn in my Camelbak and ate it. It tasted lovely, but unfortunately my sore throat was returning and this seemed to make it feel worse. This really was turning out to NOT be my day. I kept getting waves of disappointment about my performance. Why did I manage so well in the short few weeks of training? I had not "negative walked", my health had been good... I shrugged it off. This wasn't me with lack of motivation today, it was me not feeling well. There was no point chastising myself, it was just making me feel worse. I rang Graeme at 5 miles and asked for potatoes and a salad wrapped in a lettuce leaf with Gatorade. Getting back to camp I ate what was put in front of me, managed to go to the toilet (eventually!!!) and told Graeme I may have to walk again. I left camp within 12 minutes and was back out into the wind. It seemed colder this time.
The next loop wasn't as bad. I walked for the first 15 or so minutes and then I ran small sections to see how it was making me feel. I found if I only ran small distances (maybe 100 metres) walked a bit and then ran again, I didn't feel sick and my breathing was OK. Every now and again however, I would misjudge it and run a little too far and feel sick which would bring on a minute or so of retching. Blowing my nose (again) made me retch uncontrollably and I dreaded every time I needed to do it. I found myself saying, "C'mon Claire... Sort yourself out" on more than one occasion. I didn't see any other runners but now and again would see 2 people running together and only one wore a bib. It turned out it was people running with supporters but I couldn't for the life of me think who they were at the time. I actually wondered if this was a popular running route in this village and local runners were out anyway. I'd seen 2 or 3 running in the wrong direction and knew they MUST have been nothing to do with the race. I rang Graeme at 5 miles and asked for soup and lemon tea. I'd take Solpadeine too. Maybe the caffeine in it would give me a little boost!
Getting back to camp I spoke to Mike, the race director. I had passed the 32.5 mile cut off with 4 hours to spare, which was good considering I wanted to die. He told me that I may be feeling bad but I genuinely didn't look it and maybe I was short of electrolytes and that was what was making me feel sick. He said he had a tablet I could take if it persisted. I felt like this was cheating, so thanked him and said I'd let him know if it didn't improve. I also considered he was being polite saying I looked well. My support crew were given strict instructions.... If I look like shit, don't tell me I look great... it won't wash! If I look like shit, just say nothing. Don't tell me I'm doing great if I'm not... I don't want to hear it. It's a bit like being told 3 miles into a marathon, "Not long to go". I don't know any runner who likes that statement! The waistband on my 2XU tights was feeling too tight because I was feeling so yukky. I got Graeme to cut the elastic for me, which meant damaging the hemming. I didn't care... I was sure this would be something that I would no doubt be gutted over later on (after all, it's a pair of £85 compression tights) but at the time I couldn't care less. Kerry and Terry turned up just as I was sat in the car tending to a big blister on my big toe on my right foot. I cut the bottom of the blister with nail scissors and got rid of the liquid inside. It really stung. I popped on a Compeed blister plaster and was told to put something warm on because the temperature had really dropped. I stood up and my big toe knacked so I sat back down and put a second plaster on top of the first. It felt no better but I said it was fine. I was back off when I heard Kerry running after me. She was carrying a high vis vest that Terry had took out of the car for me. "Get yourself seen", she said. And there it was... that song from the 80's firmly embedded in my head for the next 6.55 miles... "Make it big.. make it bold... make it bright... to be sure that you're seen... keep your lights... bright and clean... and get yourself seeeeeeeeeeeeen" I could have killed her :-)
I'm not going to repeat myself in detail here... just know that this next loop was another bad one. The first 3 miles were great and I felt good. I managed to ignore the blister pain totally (to the point I forgot it was there) and then the sickness started, the retching started, blowing my nose was torture, I couldn't breathe... yada yada yada. My headtorch was the brightest light in Herne Bay but it was too heavy for my head so I had to carry it in my hand. I kept jumping as I saw something darting across next to me and then realised it was only shadows from my head torch. I expected to feel more jumpy going past the scary barn, but I was fine. This going through the dark lark was fine once you got your head into it. I had read about people hallucinating and knew this must all be tiredness and tricks of the eyes in the dark. I wasn't that tired. If I hadn't felt sick, this would have been lovely. I blew my nose, retched and carried on. I got back to camp and had a 15 minute break. I was almost at 40 miles now. Mike told me to take ibuprofen in between the paracetomol, so I did. Half a tin of soup and a black coffee later, and now I was no longer on my own. Kerry was with me.
I was looking forward to this loop. When Kerry and I had done our training run I hadn't noticed any pain or anything because she took my mind off it. Unfortunately this loop turned out to be my worst yet. This was no reflection on Kerry, I just felt very very sick. Trying to think logically, I had taken crisps and a banana to eat en route (thinking this would ward the sickness off) but it made it worse. I retched a lot. I sniffed and struggled to breathe a lot and Kerry seemed to agree with Graeme that it was probably the rapeseed adding to how bad I was feeling anyway. I rang Graeme at 5 miles and we ordered coffee. When we got back I had some plain crisps and that along with the coffee was easy to take. I had told Kerry I needed a really long break this time. I'd been having around 15 minute breaks and getting everything done in that time, this next one I took 25 minutes. Graeme was chief fire maker in camp and there was a beautiful roaring fire with chairs all around it. I sat there mostly in slience and listened to other runners. Some had pulled out, some were sleeping in the canteen tent and David (who was walking a mile and running a mile) had suddenly become uncontrollably cold and was sleeping by the fire. Graeme kept moving the fire away from his legs so he didn't get burnt, as he was totally out of it. Barney, who had flew round the course on the afternoon said he'd come to the end of his race. He'd blown up. An easy mistake to make! He'd done 72 miles.
The retching continued on and Kerry continued to be fantastic. She patiently waited whilst I bent over and hurled up invisible sick. She would rub my back which was hurting and ask was there anything she could do. There wasn't. This was a battle only I could get through. I wished so much I wasn't ill. I'd still be running. My legs didn't hurt one bit and I really wanted to run. I think I told her a few times I wanted to run but knew the sickness wouldn't allow it. I'm normally pretty good at remembering details in a race, but it all seems to merge into one here. I can remember another camp stop and getting told off from Graeme for not ringing him. I was told next time to ring and ask for soup as he thought I needed it. I remember getting to 47 miles, which is a distance PB for me (having done 46.6 miles in Bangalore). I can remember passing 50 miles and telling Kerry that I'd read somewhere that the general opinion of some ultra runners is that you aren't an ultra runner until you've done a 50 miler. I can remember passing my sons target for me which was 53 miles. My next memory is the most unpleasant. The sickness wasn't going and I felt dreadful. I'd often stop and bend down and retch. We were between 56 and 57 miles and Kerry was telling me I was genuinely doing well. Knowing my strict instructions on not giving me bullshit, I thought she must have meant it. She said to think of later on when this was all over and we were sat in the bar with something cold and bubbly to drink. And that was it... I started to retch. I retched uncontrollably and constantly. Nothing came up but I still kept retching. I tried to stand up and take a deep breath and I was back bent over retching again. And the strangest of feelings was when my cheeks seemed to water. I had to spit because there was so much liquid in my mouth that was coming from my cheeks. I don't know how I stopped, but I controlled it eventually, and within a mile got to an aid station where the marshall had a bag of salted peanuts. I had a handful and instantly felt better. I rang Graeme and asked for my soup, and looked forward to getting back to camp so I could sit by the fire. I was tired, but I can honestly say I hadn't wanted to go to sleep. I probably couldn't have slept anyway!.
My throat was killing so after my soup I had some Beechams powders. I was willing myself to leave camp. I just wanted to stay there. The wind was at its worst in the first couple of miles so psychologically it was very tough to leave the fire. Apparently Graeme had tended to it all night for everyone. He'd looked after me so well and I felt in very safe hands. I'd asked him to write down every morsel that went into my mouth and write exact times of breaks I had. This was another break where I'd said I needed longer. I hadn't been aware until I was told later, but everyone knew it was time to go as I would start nodding to myself. I knew I was willing myself to get up and leave, but I wasn't aware I was physically gee-ing myself up for all to see. Mike said I could go onto the smaller loops now of 2.5 miles, but Kerry and I decided to do one more big loop first. It was on this loop where I suddenly needed a wee every half an hour. I'm not good, as I mentioned before, at doing this sort of thing, so the first time was difficult, the second time I was a bit better and I think by the time I needed the fourth wee it felt perfectly natural. On the way back at 5 miles Kerry tried to ring Graeme because I just couldn't be bothered anymore. She made me decide what I would eat (after earlier telling her that there may come a time when I said I didn't want anything and she was to make me have at least something). I stipulated FOUR POTATOES! If there had been one more in the bowl I don't think I'd even have managed to eat one. She couldn't get in touch with Graeme however, and I knew by now his battery must be flat. Terry was back at camp luckily, so she spoke to him instead. Terry came up and met us and walked half a mile or so and it was lovely to see him. Back at camp I was given my 4 potatoes. I said I felt minging. I thought the potatoes were minging and they gave me coffee which they insisted had to have sugar in it. I told them that was minging too. The woman who was marking laps laughed and asked was there anything that wasn't minging. I paused and thought for a second and told her literally everything was minging at this point.
The next loop was mentally a huge relief. 2.5 miles felt like a breeze. We didn't have the scary barn to go past, no tourettes hill, no 4 mile marker and no horrible big muddy puddles. I wasn't retching anymore, I was just really tired. I bend down and looked at my hands on the road. The skin on the back of my hand was moving and I told Kerry it looked well trippy. She calmly told me that I was tired, probably a little dizzy, my eyes were finding it difficult to focus therefore my hand was not moving at all. She told me to stand up. It seemed a very logical explanation, and like a school child getting instructions off her teacher, I stood up and carried on. She asked me was there a part of my body that didn't ache and I said my forearms. She would constantly tell me to think of my forearms whenever I felt incredibly tired.
We didn't stop at the next camp passing and just carried on. Kerry kept telling me she was genuinely amazed at what I'd done and that I'd been in very good humour considering how bad I'd felt. She had kept me amused along the way and although I was laughing, it sounded like a very false laugh as I only had the energy to say, "h-h-hh-h-h-h-". It wasn't false, it was just all I could manage at the time. We were almost back at camp and on Kerrys' last stint when I suddenly needed the loo. I didn't need a wee though!!! Kerry pointed out a few places I could go and suddenly all of my inhibitions came back. After 3 location rejections, I finally agreed on a place in the middle of a field. She got my high vis vest off me (doh... I hadn't given that a thought) and within seconds of bending down all I heard was Kerrys' voice cheerly shouting, "Mawwwwnniiinnngg... go straight past... nothing to seeee". I was mortified as I saw David, one of the runners jogging past, saying, "No worries, we've all been there". Then, would you believe it, again, "Morning, you're doing well", and another runner went past. I have literally cried with laughter looking back on this, but at the time I just couldn't believe it and felt so embarrassed!
So, I left Kerry and Graeme walked the last 2.5 miles with me. It was very slow and despite still having a whole hour and a half left to do more, I called it a day at 22 hours and 29 minutes and 73 miles. I got a nice medal and certificate and Kerry was given a medal as she was definitely the best support runner there, completeing 31 of the 73 miles with me. I'm pleased I did so well considering I was so poorly, but I can't help but wonder how I would have coped if I'd felt OK. I had the best support ever and couldn't have done it without them. They all continued to look after me for the next couple of days too.
On reflection, I think the horrible retching was all down to taking so many tablets to try and ward off my cold. I was in agony the next morning and could barely walk, but now, a couple of days later I'm much better. I now have the Wall ultra in 3 and a half weeks (which I'm already a little nervous about) and I'm looking to do another 24 hour race sometime in August. I'd like to get there bug free next time.
The official results show that I was second lady (5 miles behind first placed lady) and seventh overall (out of 24), although this being a challenge and not a race, positions aren't really applicable.
Great report Claire :) well done for mentally battling through it, thats the toughest part of Ulras. Kerry did a great job too, her turn next!I agree it was probably the amount of drugs v's the amount of food in your system. Should avoid ibu at all costs during distance stuff though *waves finger*
ReplyDeletegood luck for the wall xx