Race to the Stones 2018

The Race to the Stones event was to be the one that broke my mind. I had originally planned my slate of Ultras in ascending order, distance wise, so that they got tougher so as to make me stop increasing the length of my races. That did not happen, in fact I came away with more confidence for longer races, learnt how much stronger my mental game is and I even learnt to enjoy the grind.

The day started with an INCREDIBLE breakfast burrito made by myself that included sausage, hash browns, avocado and hot sauce...so delicious. From there I was picked up by a fellow runner and my long 'suffering' chauffeur. We chatted for a bit, then I fell asleep and then we were there...HURRAH!

Disembarking from the chariot, we walked into the event and my thought process was simple...COFFEEEEEE1111! As the event was fully catered I was expecting a nice, fresh, barrista made-from-the-bean americano to whoop my system into readiness mode. This was [perhaps] the only fail on the organisers side throughout the entire day, as all that was available was a pay4drink site.

Skipping this, I filled up my water bottles, hung around and took a few selfies and then began the race (a lot of things happened before then, but this is a race report not a commentary on the state of IG running personalities etc).

The first section was a swift 6.4 miles to checkpoint (CP) 1 and my average pace was just over 9 minute miles, something I was very comfortable with. Apart from the usual bottleneck right at the beginning, I had started a good stride and began to loosen up and feel just fine. To be perfectly honest, time simply flew by as the gorgeous scenery and mind-altering podcasts kept my mind busy. CP2 came and went with little fuss to how I was feeling. My pace kept up at around the 10 minute mile and I felt I was on track for a much faster time that I was planning (I had originally planned 12-16 hours was my window). However at CP3 is where I spent a good 30 minutes or so as the fatigue on my legs was considerable. I was suddenly thinking about why I thought it was ok to lead three Spin classes on the Thursday before this event!

The next section, up until the half way mark was where really the only grind occurred on the entire run. I was mentally stronger than my body would let me believe as I moved into the process of walking any incline and running everything else. It slowed my pace somewhat, but allowed me to continue racking up 4-5 miles an hour. It was also during this time that the heat kicked up.

On a side bar, I have read a bunch of peoples reports, reviews and watched insta-stories regarding their experiences and they all mention the heat. At no point during the day did I noticed the heat. In fact the first time I was away of a temperature change was at midnight when there were pockets of ice-cold sections, which I was convinced meant there were ghosts in the vicinity!

At the half way mark, I did exactly as I had at every other CP, in that I soaked my head in water, dunked my hat, filled up my water bottle and grabbed some food and went on my way. This time however, there was an issue. About 5 minutes away from the CP I developed a crippling stitch that flared up once my speed picked up above a fast walk. It was like someone had fitted me with a limiter on my engine or something. My pace dropped and dropped until I was down the 3mph. I had conversations in my mind about quitting, about maybe my training wasn't adequate or how perhaps it was the weathers fault, basically looking for any excuse under the sun (pun not intended) as to why this was happening. The lowest point of which was when I was sat at CP8 watching a beautiful sunset over the countryside, whilst drinking a coffee and flapjack.

I was physically done. The stitch had been destroying me for 20 miles, my legs were pretty much toast and there was SO long to go, I estimated at the pace I was going, I had another four hours in me, if I could just keep up a walk at my normal pace. I wandered over to the medics tent and picked up the deep heat and sprayed my legs down, throwing a few layers onto all the major running muscles, before topping up my coffee, grabbing another flapjack and hitting the trail.

12 miles, four hours to go.

CP9, the final one to visit and my legs felt great. The constant ache I had been dealing with since the third check point was completely gone. I honestly felt that, aside from a bit of foot ache, my legs had done nothing. I sat at CP9 knowing that I was going to finish as it was only another eight miles, but suddenly my confidence grew. I had some soup (it was shit, but meh) some crisps and filled my bottle with flat coke and hit the trail.

What happened next was bizzare. I was suddenly striding faster than I had since the crippling stitch had come on. I had a luscious gazelle-like bounce to my step as I took to the final section of the run. As I increased my speed I noticed there was no stitch. Slowly but surely I continued to increase my speed until I was suddenly jogging, slowly at first but soon enough my pace was suddenly as fast as my starting speed! Since I had noticed my stitch gone my speed had gone from 18 minute miles to 9 minute miles. I was smashing past every person I saw and even running the inclines again. I genuinely couldn't believe how much I had left in the tank and how much I bloody enjoyed smashing it through the countryside at midnight.

I passed the line at 16 hours and 12 minutes, 12 minutes longer than my happy-window I was aiming for. Immediately I uploaded my information from my watch and began reviewing the run and realising that without the stitch I could've been HOURS faster as it truly limited my ability to move.

I finished my brief review, grabbed some sweet potato fries and pizza and cracked open a beer and chowed down. There were bodies everywhere looking worse for wear, but I felt like I could go back out there and carry on right away! I showered (side note: this shower was perhaps the single most powerful shower I have ever had...it was A-MAZ-ZIIIING!) went back for more pizza and chilled out until my lift home came.

I sit here at the gym less than 48 hours removed and have just run a 5k on the treadmill quite comfortably in 35 minutes....so I have no problems with recovery, I just need to not get those killer stitches. This time next year I expect to knock off at least 3 hours from this time.

Tl:dr

I ran some miles, I hurted a bit, but I man up and finished strong. It is just one foot in front of another and the next is in four weeks...LETS FUCKING GO.

Strava link: https://www.strava.com/activities/1703595725

Pictures: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10156536352470148.1073741827.507720147&type=1&l=e2e6268333

Instagram story: https://instagram.com/richrunsforjessiemay