I had put kickboxing pads into the foot wells of my truck to
create a level floor with the seats, and laid down the blankets to form dog
beds. My little husky Max curled up beside me on the passenger seat. I rolled
my chair back and pulled the sleeping bag over me. My big husky Harley settled into
the rear seats and popped his head on my shoulder. Now, if only that damn owl
would stop being so noisy we could have got some sleep…
That was how I spent the night before the race. Cuddled up
in my truck with the huskies keeping me warm. At 5am the first cars started to
appear in the car park, waking everyone who were sleeping in their vehicles and
camper vans. The day had started, the race was on.
I emerged from the truck at 6am and took the huskies for a
little walk, letting them stretch their legs. More hardened racers were
starting to accumulate, the bobbing of head torches lighting up the pretty
village of Talybont. I popped the huskies into the truck, popped to the race
centre for my morning’s ‘activities’ and to brush my teeth, and then it was
final preparation time. I fed the dogs some sausages, and I had a few hard
boiled eggs. I don’t run well on food, so it was just a light snack to put
something in my stomach.
Getting changed I had my first problem. I knocked the water
bowl over on my race shorts. I laughed. Wet shorts in the cold were going to be
the least of my worries – I had 42 miles across the Brecon Beacon mountain
range to come, and the terrain is horrendous – there is a big reason why they
are used for Special Forces training!
The racers accumulated at 0715 for the race talk, but I
couldn’t hear. Max was whining with excitement. Sorry about that everyone! We
then walked towards the start and then yes! Success! I picked up the deposit
and placed it in the bin at the start line. One less weight to carry round –
yes, us canicrossers pick up after our dogs even when racing.
I had a strategy for the start. Having run this race last
year I knew my huskies would go off like a rocket, so I aligned myself to the
right side of the pack to keep clear of everyone as much as possible.
Suddenly we were off – a sharp turn to the right, and then
the first climb, a long gradual constant one. The huskies were on form and
provided the only effortless part of the race for me. Storming through on the
right side of the runners, they effortlessly pulled me up. Many commented “that’s
cheating!” as I eased effortlessly past – yet they didn’t understand what was
to come!
I was well placed for the first downhill across the fields.
My quads quickly burned on the descent as with every step I had to brake the
huskies. Everything I gained going up is lost and more going downhill as the
huskies continue to pull. Last year I was pulled over at least 50 times. I was
looking for an improvement on that! I used ‘fast feet’, short steps, and had
better footwear this year – the Vivobarefoot Neo Trails, worn straight out of the
box, were providing lovely grip and were really comfortable.
I made the first stile in a little gap between the other
runners, and quickly hoisted the huskies over. I’d trained them for robustness
on landing the other side! The stiles on the course were a pain – only a few
actually had dog access and the rest I had to lift a 30kg and 25kg pair of
huskies over. I also had to wait at times to ensure I didn’t hold up the other
runners. (Thanks have to go to the people who helped me too – especially the
lady on about mile 35 who held onto them when the stile was too high, and it
was easier to slip them under the fence.)
The weather was unseasonably warm, and the huskies had gone
off pulling with all their might. Max was starting to suffer, and started to
lag a little. This was worrying as he had a long way to go! I HAVE to put the
dog’s safety and health first. I carried on, yet Max was worrying me. Harley
was as dependable as usual, the perfect lead dog in every respect. He was going
just fine and loving it. Max just looked a little uncertain.
A little incident then happened with a farmer in his van on
a tight bit of single track. Coming up behind us he didn’t slow to let us get
to safety. The dogs jumped out of the way just in time yet my elbow bounced off
the side of the truck. A few minutes later he was parked up unloading straw
bales. As I approached I shouted “excuse me Sir, I understand you have a job to
do, but next time please wait until everyone can get out of your way.” I guess
it is lucky that I don’t speak Welsh. I got a nice little tirade of language. I
thought about asking what the Welsh was for “tosser”, yet the race was more
important.
Max continued to look and act tired and retirement for him
was a growing concern. Fortunately the lovely Claire O’Brian, running the
support vehicle for some other canicrossers, had offered to be support for mine
too if they needed it. I was seriously thinking of letting Max spend the race
curled up in her vehicle. Yet he continued to put one paw in front of the
other. We were now running at Max’s pace.
The first third of the race was out of the way, including
some punishing climbs and horrible downhills. Most of the climbs are too steep
or too boggy/treacherous/rocky for the huskies to offer any assistance. I was
feeling good. The temperature seemed to drop again and the long exposed ridge
run through the bogs was surprisingly fun. Max was hanging in there.
Powering through the bogs (Max back on form!)
The forest section I really took my time. There were several
reasons. This is the middle section of the race and I wanted to ensure that I
was fresh for Pen Y Fan and what comes beyond. I allowed Max to completely
recharge and he munched on some sausages to give him some energy. It also gave
me a chance to change my running gait because I didn’t want to get cramps –
which are a neurological ‘trip up’ from fatigue and nothing to do with the
popular myth about hydration and electrolytes. I took on board some of my
flapjacks, and like an idiot I managed to drop the entire pack somewhere
leaving me without any food – what a muppet!
Pen Y Fan soon loomed and I was ready. The race route is
straight up the steepest path. But my secret weapon was there – the café shack
at the bottom was open! I grabbed an ‘emergency’ Crunchie and got a ‘special’
cup of coffee – two heaped teaspoons of coffee, two of sugar, half of hot
water, half of milk. It. Tasted. Delicious!
As the caffeine and warmth started to spread I began the
horrible climb. Pen Y Fan is not an easy climb at the best of times. Yet try doing
a marathon distance over mountains first. It saps the legs. Harley and Max were
being pains, pulling me left and right as they were getting some smells in, and
trying to pull me after grazing sheep on the mountainside. Putting one foot in
front of the other, and being a complete moaner all the way up like an
irritable teenager, I was there. Result. Now to face my nemesis – the descent
from Pen Y Fan.
Last year I went over a good 25 times coming down. The
huskies pulling hard, me trying to brake, failing, and crashing hard. This time
I was ready. New shoes. Better grip. Faster feet and better technique. Better
strategy. Coffee inside me. Time to go for it!
IT ROCKED! What a completely awesome descent! Max was back
and rocking. Harley was excited at the sheep yet kept on task – a miracle in
itself! I only went over once on some granite, cutting my legs quite nicely to
give me some war wounds. Not enough to warrant patching up, I slowed the blood
to a trickle, and smiled. Picked myself up and back on the run. I over took
loads of runners on the way down and finally felt what it must be like to be a
fell runner at full speed. Brilliant, brilliant, fun. I charged into the
checkpoint arms wide shouting “yeeeeeeeeeeesssss!”
I knew I had it in the bag. Around 11 miles to go. Ahead of
time. Every flat stretch of terrain I eased into technique allowing my heels to
lift and my heels to turn in a circle, relaxing into it. The downhills I
started speeding up, trusting my new found technique. I know I was going around
7-minute mile pace where the terrain allowed.
The river crossing was fun, and the huskies took on more
water. I was running with a fully loaded race pack carrying all mine and their
emergency equipment and spares, and had two front-mounted 750ml water bottles
for me, that I kept regularly filled to the top. I was running with a pack that
weighed around 12kg. The huskies took water on board from mud, from puddles,
and from the rivers and mountain streams.
The last checkpoint was passed and the team powered on.
Taking the middle section easy allowed me to have lots in reserve. So did the
huskies. We were rocking. The last 6 miles passed fast, even with the head
torches on as darkness descended, and only one comical incident.
Crossing one of the stiles there were around 100 sheep the
other side. I hoisted the huskies over, told them to wait, and started to climb
over. No chance. Harley charged for the sheep and I got flipped over the top of
the stile and dragged along. I recovered, shook Harley by the scruff of his
neck to snap him out of ‘prey mode’ and with him back ‘on task’ the going was
good once more.
The course was brilliantly marked, even in the dark, and
soon the finishing line was in sight. Passing the finishing line was fantastic,
the people cheering me on taking the time out to get out in the cold and give
support. Thank you! I registered my number, bent over and turned my head torch
off, and went straight in and put my food order on. Two big fat chef’s best
burgers each for the husky and one in a bun with all the trimmings for me. I
slipped out of my race pack and collapsed against the wall. The huskies lay
down beside me with their happy faces on.
Might Contain Nuts Brecon Beacons 42miles Ultra Marathon –
DONE!
So that’s my experience, hopefully it will inspire you to
get out and put one foot in front of the other and enjoy running. I’ll follow
this blog up with some more, lessons learnt and how I knocked nearly 1.5hrs off
my previous year’s time, and an important blog on how I have been recovering. I’m
nearly there now. Just got the deep pains from my quads to ease….
