Having just read Sweder's humorous account of getting out after a non-running month, I thought I must post my Marathon journey before the fragile memories become too distant in the ether.
My month contrary to my good friend has been one of the most hectic of the year.
3 races; Lewes Downland 10 - an able, reasonably strong 81 mins, Jog shop Jog - a lethargic 3:07 and now Beachy Head a reasonable 4:18 20 miles of good, solid running but as always a tough battle with the Seven Sisters cliffs into Birling Gap and the trail in over the country park covering the last six miles .
My good friend and stalwart Soft Al chauffeured us into the Pilot car park (decent boozer, 100 yards from start) around 8:30 in plenty of time for last minute crapola, banana snaffling, vest adjustments and hydration chugging. GB Rog-air was in fine form supplying me with one of his 500 calorie energy bombs, taste like a rather stodgy cold Xmas pud. Not very appetizing Ill grant you but anything that might help with sustaining us through this tough day.
The sky was consistently grey and overcast throughout, but the temperature was nice and mild no thermals required, a superb autumnal day. The start was soon launched with a firework and air horn, no hurry here as the first few hundred yards is a steep incline. Once free of the sidelined spectators the noise level dropped, so all you could hear was earnest shuffling up the ascent, runners breathing hard. A road crossing navigated and the trail evens out, a steady flat trail for some distance, before you heard and then saw the lone Piper bellowing out a stiff quadrille or whatever it might have been on the bagpipes.
The first hour, 7 odd miles covered, incorporated another 2 stiff ascents up Willingdon Hill and the first pass through Friston forest - Windover Hill, near the Long Man of Wilmington. No mud here just a lovely scattering of autumn leaves. Me and Rog covered these together in relative conversational ease. A gel/piss stop ensued on the hour at the top of the 2nd climb and we then got separated. I pulled away - my confidence and natural ease at a higher pace at this point in the race. I felt good and little bit selfish about leaving Rog but a race is a race, if you are having a good day, you want to take advantage of it.
I consider myself a pretty good descender and stomped down the flint covered track to the first Checkpoint at 8.8 miles just above Alfriston. Espied Alan on the first photo op here, a comfortable pose complete, I sped on. Acknowledged a few spectators that I recognised with a quick Shearer. Bade the lovely village a fond farewell and prepared myself for what I consider the toughest part of the course. The ascent, Bostal hill rises out of Alfriston for a fair way, this is both the descent on the Seaford half and part of the climb over the downs on the Firle 20k. It eventually arrives at Bopeep (checkpoint 2, 12.2 miles), where the course turns left and continues for over 4 miles on a picturesque flat trail into Litlington, checkpoint 3 (16.7 miles) . I was ticking over quite nicely at this point overhauling quite a few runners, Frog Firle came and went, this area has been quite sodden and treacherous underfoot in previous years , the mild weather recently had dried out the route considerably.
Litlington village loomed once I had gotten over another road crossing. I encountered Al again here and another Photo op. ensued. I cruised by the heaving drinks table, soup, hot cross buns, mini mars supplied, with the brass band on song in the background. A short ascent out of this lovely village, I necked a gel and slugged some fluid and kept at my steady rhythm knowing that the wheels might come off soon. After a sharp descent, a second encounter with Friston forest came and went fairly rapidly, this also entails 2 nasty timbered stepped climbs. The second climb has Joe the lone piper again about two thirds of the way up, the bagpipes gave me a great lift and I applauded my benefactor - we both were inhaling great, gasping lungfuls of air to keep going.
At the top of this climb is a wall, with a kissing gate or stile I cant quite remember, but once through the Cuckmere valley opens up with the meandering river down to the sea and the Sevens Sisters country park in all its glory. This is when the real work begins! The route used to follow the tow path to the seaward end, but now they have stuck an additional climb into the equation, eventually coming back down to the towpath and beginning the climb up the first Sister, a good half mile. The hills then do become a blur, just head down and try to tough them out, no time for the fantastic view. One foot in front of the other, jogging down the steep descents, crawling up the other side. In running terms a great big rollercoaster of slopes until a welcome, gentle descent into Birling Gap.
Alan was waiting, another few shots fired off I felt good, better than some previous years, this being my fifth Beachy Head fest. I slugged out the last 3 ½ miles with steady walking up the remaining climbs and a chugging jog on the flat, picking it up into the last mile toward the finish, which is mercifully all downhill. Got a mention at the finish, which is nice as it rarely happens. Took a good while to calm the legs down and recover sufficiently to change and stretch Roger came in about 20mins after me, a big smile and another convert to this great run. We hobbled and joked to the car, medals proudly adorned, and a perfect morning over.
Another medal garnered, another sigh of relief, another marathon completed number 14, waheh! Enthusiasm for doing another undiminished, the pain and tough parts forgotten amidst the satisfaction of running another hard off-road marathon and enjoying such a great, picturesque run.
Photos
