Arc2Arch

[andywg]

Part 1 - Preparation

As many of you who are unfortunate enough to be exposed to my writings and online presence (or even worse to have faced me in real life) will be aware; this year I took part in Arc2Arch, a challenge to run from the Arc de Triomphe in Paris to Marble Arch in London. This was done to help out a friend I first met online and to raise money for Rethink Mental Health.

As you can probably expect this is going to be a monster of a “race report” and so my plan is to break it down into six parts for you. I have waited so long as I have been so busy with real life: work, study and a relationship have all massively eaten up my time. But as I am in the final stages of revision for Monday’s exam, this is a way to rest my brain for a short while this afternoon.

Initial Training

I like to think I am already a competent runner. I run with a club and have completed a handful of marathons and an ultra so I reckoned I could have a good stab at this. I understood from other ultra runners that the key is to get used to running often. With that in mind, and with the promise of saving money, I decided to save money by ditching my travelcard and running every day from Liverpool St to where I work near Euston. It’s only 2.6 miles but it means constantly running. With the races as well I ended up running every day from 24 June to 7 August, 45 days of running on the trot.

Some days the runs were longer and, after the streak had gone and infused with the Olympic spirit, I even started to run all the way to Stratford.



Enigma

I also wanted to get some more experience beyond 26.2 so booked a 30 miler at Milton Keynes to aid, the Enigma Ultra! Thus, on 7 July 2012 I was to head to Milton Keynes for just over 8 laps of Caldecotte Lake.

Regrettably, the lake was in danger of taking over as the drive there was nothing if not a monsoon. Thank god we were in the afternoon as the marathon in the morning (the event consists of a marathon Saturday morning, an ultra Saturday afternoon and then a marathon Sunday morning – who were these crazy people wanting to run so far in a couple of days, I wondered? Little did I know…).

I was running with another member of the Arc2Arch team from the Run24 the week before and as we waited in the pub before heading out to the start one of the solos from Run24 asked us how we were feeling. Apparently he had got to 100 miles and stopped the week before as he was just prepping up for a big 100 mile race coming up. His thoughts on Arc2Arch were that it would be easy. His optimism was nice, though seeing just how fast he whizzed around the 30 miles made us realise he was in a different league to us!

The race started and we had the initial run into the first lake. The laps were mildly interesting with various point of note; be they the fact you could see the start finish bit for half the lap making you yearn for it, the geese and swans that tried to make the race harder, the wet past your ankles muddy puddle just after the start that meant every lap had wet feet, or the ever increasing numbers of gnats as the evening drew in. Also of note was watching the winner fly past us a number of times (about 3:20 was his time) and there was even someone from Twitter there to wave hello to (hello Naomi!).

I never used to think I would like laps, but in this one I was quite enamoured, possibly because counting up to/down from 8 is nicer than 30 and far less daunting. The pace was gentle and solid. There was a bit of an issue at lap 17 as an injury flared up in my partner and this caused some slowing down around the marathon distance (miles 25 to 28).

After some worries at the start about timeliness and beating the dark (and hopefully not finishing last) we ran in for 6:17:14. And I had no blisters, so a win for my shoe/sock combo (even if the shoes are racing flats designed for nothing over 10k really)

The spinny medals were proper bling and I had a much nicer than my previous ultra experience at the Fairland Valley Spartans 50km (as anyone who remembers my sweary video from during the race will attest). Feeling better about it all I slept well and still managed a little recovery run the next day (after re-carbing on a Chinese takeaway that night).

Kent Challenge 50

My ‘regular’ ultra-partner found the Kent challenge about three weeks before it happened and suddenly I was signed up to what was really a double marathon (52.4 miles for those that hate maths beyond their fingers and toes). This was somewhat daunting and made harder since I had a risk of running a significant part, or even all of it, on my own since the partner was barely able to get out of bed the day before due to illness.

However, by 5:30am we were at the site and just before 6 (so early) the bearded organiser set off a firework from a welly boot and we were on our way. As with the last ultra, there were 8 laps to complete, there were some crazy fast people and there was someone from twitter (hello again Naomi!).

This race was hot, and with each lap being a little over 10k, it was nice that it was a couple of loops with a connecting part. With the aid of the amazing Thanet Road Runners there was never more than 2 miles between water stations. And Jelly Bean corner run by Thanet was glorious with everything ultra runners need from salty crisps, bacon rolls, fresh orange segments to flat full fat coke. Truly a place of wonderment.

Whilst illness was not a problem, a niggly groin injury plagued my charge and I feared the worst when she struggled by mile 14. But it went again. The nice thing about the laps here was a little walk through at which time I could remind all the spectators and anyone else about at that time just how great my fashion was!



At the marathon point some friends popped by to see us and we had a little chin wag. By now it was scorchingly hot out there and really beating down in certain areas. Thankfully we were to meet another member of Arc2Arch, whose bare chest seemed to liven up my running partner no end as she sped for him. Dave was a fantastic laugh and we stayed around the same pace as him for some time whiling away the time with stories of all our running exploits and how we all felt unprepared for the Arc2Arch.

Fatigue and some muscle issues stepped in and at the end of the sixth lap was a long break and cup of tea for Em. A change of socks helped her and we finally got going for the penultimate lap which was tough for Em but she made it to the last lap, which I hoped would be all but celebratory.

But it was to surprise me.

I got to just over 50 miles and I really hit a physical and mental wall. Not only did I drop to a walk, I basically stopped. I couldn’t carry on. All I wanted to do was sit down on the floor and cry. I knew there was less than two miles to go, after having done 50, yet I could not face it. Em talked me around to just getting to Jellybean corner and from there we would do one last little bit of the race.

I was dragged through and then, finally, after 13 hours, 37 minutes and 21 seconds, we arrived back at the start and received our medal and certificates.



We had actually run two whole marathons in one day! For this we were thankful though my body seized a fair amount and by now I had serious chafing on my arse crack. Don’t ask me how, I have no idea, but chafing there was. Emma fared worse and seized up to the point of having to be carried to the car by myself and a fortunately placed rugby player (who pulled out during lap 7 after doing the first 3 barefoot) . She spent most of the car ride laid out on the back seat to rest her legs.

But we had done it, we had managed to run a greater distance than we needed to in any one day (or so we thought) and therefore we were on our way!

The rest of the way

And so my running carried on, yes I ran the day after the double. Not long after I took part in Thunder Run 24 assisting a runners forum team and the amazing Taff as he ran himself into 4th male solo place. I think it came in at about 57km for that 24 hour period, so not too shabby!



Then there was a dinner to meet all the other runners and support staff which was great. Gradually plans were made and we set up transport and the first night’s hotel.

Before I knew it August had come, and then the bank holiday approached. On 22 August 2012 I finished work at 3pm, walked to St Pancras International and boarded the Eurostar on my way to Paris. A bit of a tube and bus journey and I was at the hotel. The next day it would all begin. Day 1 called for 42 miles. I had the route programmed into my Garmin so I could follow it. I had my running partner sorted. I felt as ready as one ever can for this sort of thing.

Shit was about to get serious, and I couldn’t wait to just get started! Obviously I had nerves, this was more than anyone I knew of had managed and once you are in an internet community the extremes are well represented (including down to sub 2:30 marathoners). But I had trained and I reckoned I was in a good place. Tomorrow was the day to find out!

[andywg]

Part 2 - Day 1

So, after not enough sleep, and feeling unprepared, we all got up, congregated in the car park and tried to work out just how to fit all the gear and us into the support vehicles (a flashy VW van and a far more flashy Porsche 4x4). I lucked out and got the Porsche seats. We were meeting two others there and, in his inimitable style, KB might have forgotten to let them know the decision last night to start about 7:30 rather than 6:30 so they may have been cold and irritable.

It was nice and quiet so the cars parked on the actual roundabout which the Arc de Triopmhe sits on. To be fair, this has been a silly dream of mine. I know how insane the traffic is there; imagine a roundabout where it is wide enough for at least 7 lanes of traffic. Now imagine said roundabout is used by Paris drivers, who believe all cars have reverse parking sensors and that sound “crunch”. It’s a truly awesome sight:



But the early morning traffic was light and so I managed to get across without dying.





We posed for the team shot before we set off, and after a bit off milling around (much of it with me jumping up and down shouting how I wanted to get started) we soon set off.



The route of Paris was quite fun if your idea of fun is dodging dog shit on the pavements and being aware of bikes on the pavement. KB started a little video blog whilst running but refused to talk to me as I looked so great (he might not have used that word). I was in a great mood and before long we were heading right out of the suburbs and into the satellite towns.



As KB and the speedsters had gotten lost, we were technically “in front” (though this was a challenge and certainly not a race). Before too long they caught up with us:



We found out how far away Sevenoaks was



And a jolly happy time was had by all!



It was around here the first issue came up.

It was hot

Like really hot

As in 32 degrees

And the drinks were meant to be every 10 miles or so.

And at 18 miles the directions went weird and sent us up a dirt track nobody was expecting (though I will just say my Garmin told us to go there, somoene made routes, I put them in the Garmin and I had a biscuit crumb trail to follow and it was awesome the whole way in France and would have been in the UK if they hadn’t changed the route…). We had by now run out of water and even stopped to buy some. Despite the smiles in the next photo, I was not that happy that I was over 22 miles in and had only seen one aid stop:



Thankfully everyone organising realised it was an issue and the stops became every 6 miles or so just to top up the camelbaks and get some food in.

I personally started to struggle. I couldn’t get the next day out of my head. Em was complaining of an injury and I was thinking how long we would be out today and then we had to get her through the next day. This injury had been with her for 8 months so it was not going to disappear. And mentally I was starting to crumble.

I did what I always do when struggling like this. I went quiet (any who have met me will know that is quite a change). Em dragged me through and after some food and drink we started to plough on. I made out Aussie support cyclist laugh by using a term she had not heard for many years (“ranga-banga”).

I felt like my calves were burning in the sun after 30 miles (they were) and after a Em reaffirmed her status as a “real ultra-runner” (something I have never managed I would hasten to add) we began to hit the last part of the day. Em was in a sorry state with her leg and many people were flaking. Very few of us had ever gone past 40 miles in a day, and any feeling of success or triumphalism was tempered with the thought that, as it stood, tomorrow as a 63 mile day. That’s 100km for those of you that follow Napoleon.

We stopped by a pizza shop and decided to have pizzas but as we wanted to make Day 2 more palatable, we would head on. Two of our number had already headed off without waiting (miscommunication). The rest of us ran knowing that before long a car would speed up and grab us and contain pizza. We managed about 3 miles and sort of paused. Most of them seemed to want to poo in the outdoors to make themselves real ultra runners, and I think KB was eyeing up his sock (a great story from the 52 marathons blog). I decided I would get some miles in and carried on.

My day was done in two bites. My Garmin tells me I did 40.3 miles before the first set of directions ended (worth clicking just for the cool map), a silly 0.01 mile bit trying to sort out where I was, a further 3.26 miles to the end of the “official” day 1 directions and a bonus 3.85 miles. Maths gurus will note that was 47.41 miles for day 1. A hefty amount of running in anyone’s book.

And so I was crammed into the van eating my pizza on the way to another dodgy Formula 1 hotel (the toilets don’t even have seats…) happy with finishing but still dreading the next day. However, tomorrow was the back of it; once tomorrow was complete (assuming we made it all the way to Dieppe) it would ‘only’ be about 60 miles in two days. Yes

I use the term only with regards to 30 miles. Doing these sorts of things has that effect on you…

We had a dinner of something, I can’t really remember what. I remember the broken look of some of the people and the steely determination of others.

Me?

Well, it might as well have been a big game. I was still joking and having a laugh (albeit hiding my dark thoughts of the next day). I knew I could do this, I had trained to do it and the training had gone well. I had my amazing Brooks shoes which I could ruin this far with no blister and once again felt fine in the lower appendage department. Even the cripple ankle was playing ball!

[andywg]

Part 3 - Day 2

Are you confused by the numbering of the parts jutting up against the Day number?

Me too, but it’s too late to change now. It’s like a series!

So, we all managed to get through day 1 and I was relatively unscathed but fearful of day 2 as it was pretty much make or break. How would day 2 pan out for me?

As mentioned in the same annoyingly repetitive manner as a Discovery Channel documentary, Day 2 held some demons for me, in my mind at least. Even after last night it must have been over 57 miles to do. That’s a double marathon with a 5 miler on top. That’s some serious mileage. The van was to take us back to where we were picked up from the day before. I had left my partner, Em, back at the 42 mile stage as her leg was gone and so we would start apart. It then transpired she was not really up to running and Tel, who had been supporting on a bike alongside Aussie Chiro Leah, wanted to run so he jumped off the bike and Em jumped on (though I think she ran a few miles in the morning just to test her leg - it’s what runners do, even after knowing and being told they can’t run, they still try a cheeky 4 miles just in case it gets better).

So, the upshot of all this was, I would be on my own at the start. Music was loaded up (loads of trance mixes and some house for the start) and I got prepared. As an idea of just how serious I took it, check out my togs:



That’s right, no (well, little) neon. This was function over form, a great tri-suit with a hospice vest and buff in support of Em’s chosen charity for the year. The best thing for me that morning in the hotel was heading out for a 20 yard jog across the car park and realising I could run, and run well!

We mounted up and got out early. And by early I mean we had driven to the last location and by 6:48 I had satellites, I had the course running, and I was on my way! I soon caught up with Rich, Dave and John. I ran with them for a bit, having a chat and a laugh, but I realised I had a bit more in my legs.

And so, in the early morning dawn light, I took to the front of the group, plugged in my headphones and simply enjoyed the feeling of running without any pressure for a few miles



Hopefully I won’t upset Ems here, but I am a bit faster than her and running at a much slower pace, whilst saving my legs wonderfully on that first day, does cause different aches; you use different muscles, muscles which you seldom use so it’s hard to sustain. Having the “freedom” (it’s not the word I want, but you get the jist) to simply run meant I was able to stretch my legs into a more natural pace for me.

And so, instead of 12 minute miles I was putting out a load of 10s, 9s and even some 8s at the start (though the faster ones were mostly downhill…).

But I was having a great time. Even when we running along a very busy road for a bit, I had some fun. I kept in touch with the rest through Ems on the bike who would come up, see me, and then head back to make sure all was right. Leah was hanging towards the back looking after some more injured souls.

I did become a little concerned as I had the best route plan to follow so never got lost, on top of this I was running well, so I was stretching out quite a lead. After ten miles I had a lead of between one and two miles and it meant we were getting a bit dragged out. I stopped for a bit in Gournay-en-Bray to point out what was left:



And what would Dieppe represent, Victory!



My running felt strong though I was reigning it in as I was already past 12 miles without an aid station and straight after Gournay we were out on a proper major road in rural France with some real pschopathic drivers. I remember watching as a lorry came past me overtaking a line of traffic despite an oncoming car… pure lunacy!

After 17 miles we had our first aid station (the supporters had to wait for the supermarkets to open, stock up and then come find us). By this time John had needed a ride as he was in a bit of a state. Nobody was getting paid for this, and it was a hugely harsh undertaking. By the end of day two, only half of the original runners would have still run every step, and of those that needed help (I refuse to say failed or dropped out, as nobody failed on this, it was a monumental undertaking and everyone still ran all of days three and four) it included multi-marathoners, ultra runners and even a 2:45 marathon runner.

And all of the above is what makes Day 2 so unbelievable for me. By the time I had gotten to the checkpoint, I had been cruising along and stopped enough that the speedsters caught me up and went past me. I had no interest in racing them so let them go. I stopped a little longer, drank some full fat coke and then set off, happy in the knowledge that just behind me as I set off, the last runners made their way in with me shouting encouragement back to them. There was no worry at the back. It was often Dave and, whilst he might have been running slower, he would have kept going as long as necessary. The man was awesome. His humour was muchly welcomed as well.

I was in such a positive frame of mind that I laughed and welcomed the first sign to Dieppe. It was followed by the numbers 7 and 9. That’s 79km to go until Dieppe. And do you know what my thoughts were on that day of all days?

“That’s not too bad at all”

Many of you will note that 84km is a double marathon. So to some that is a long way to run, but on Day 2 (or at least for most of it), I had hit a perfect union of positive mind and willing legs. I really could do this!

And things were to get better. I gradually slowed (and drank more full fat coke) and picked up Dave and Tel. At 24 miles the girls on bikes left us to get lollies and I was honoured to be alongside Dave and Tel at the moment Tel went past 26.2 miles and became an ultra runner.

By the time we hit 25 miles we were on the Avenue Verte



This is the most epic thing to run on in all France! It’s an old (disused) train line that has been tarmacked and the keep the lunatics with engines away so it’s a glorious surface to run on. Also, for the direction we ran, it’s basically downhill the whole way. NOT a horrid, my quads are burning trying to slow down downhill, oh no! An ever-so-gentle I can barely notice it, this is like running on air downhill!

As if I wasn’t running well enough already, I was now in heaven!

I left Tel and Dave, and headed on at a gentle pace and was loving it. I then caught up with the speedsters having a rest whilst one used a portaloo (they even have these in France now, no more holes in the ground).

Ems and Leah caught up with some lollies after the speedsters left and Leah took a well earned break!



That girl spent all four days on a bike, how her arse survived I don’t know!

But we all ran on, and at the next food station Kev and Scott (lunatic ex marine - on day two he was happy as he had woken up without enough sleep, he ached and was told to do something exerting, therefore it felt like normal to him!) carried on as they were finding it harder to start again, especially KB.

I stopped and had a lovely roll, lovingly prepared by Becci, Adam, H (who looks like Jamie Theakston) and Nick. I also had a can of full fat coke (can you spot an issue/recurring theme here?).

The Caffeine kicked in again, as did the sugar and I was off. The Avenue Verte was to be most of the rest of the day.
I caught up with KB and Scott at about mile 40 and passed them. Part of me wanted to stop and help KB but he ushered me on. I was in such a good groove that I am glad he said that. I really wanted to see how well I was doing.

After 41.25 miles I finished the original plan for Day 2. However, the ferry crossing being so early meant we had to press on. I am super proud to say that after the change to part 2 of day 2 I managed a sub 30 minute 5k!

For the first time ever I really felt like an ultra runner. I was running stupid distances and enjoying them, and even playing with them. Yes I know they were a bit downhill, but they were still a long way!

And I was in front! On my own! I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t care about the time, I really didn’t. For me it was seeing if I could. But the pride with not just doing it, but smiling and having a laugh the whole way! I wished my parents could see me running so freely at the head of the challenge after all their support with my marriage ending, my leg breaking and then coming to see me race. I was so proud that a certain lady could see me at the head as her belief in my running was important and it was nice to repay it. And I was so happy to receive positive overtures from KB. KB is still one of my three running heroes (none of whom are famous or elite runners) so positives from him are always special. I was still smiling as happy as could be (and drinking too much coke)



As an example of how I was doing, this is an ‘interview’ of me whilst running. Given I reference only 29 or so KM left it would suggest to me it was about 40-45 miles in.

I even tried to talk to some cows, but I got no response. I tried English (Mooo!), I tried French (Le Mooo!) and I even sang a whole chorus from a song I Was listening to out loud at them.

I got nothing.

Well, nearly nothing. One of them stared me dead on and straight in the eye.

And crapped.

Oh well. I turned the music to some Gangsta rap from the classic period of the 90s and introduced the French cattle to some NWA and Cypress Hill as rapped by a white dude from Essex!



I flew along until we came off the Avenue Verte and hit the horrid 50 mile mark.



About then I started to really struggle.

Looking back, having your major mental wall at 50 miles isn’t the worst thing in running! By now I had my running partner back with me (she did the last half marathon or so) and she talked me through the darker spots. If anything, it might have been a bit of summit fever.

Before long we were running around the outskirts of Dieppe and looking for the port. I made it there completing the last 16.56 with the last light left and finished strongly smashing out some 5:30 pace towards the virtual finish line at the docks entrance on my Garmin. Thankful, given the downpour we hid from and that kept trying to come back, I retired to the van and waited for the rest. Well, actually the van drove around Dieppe a few times as we tried to meet the Porsche and find out where the others were. We realised that two more people were in the cars and the final four (and Leah) were out on the course together.

They finished before long (no more than an hour, maybe an hour and a half after me) and looked world weary. Even I Was a bit tired now, but I knew we had a couple of stages of rest. WE would kip down tonight and then head onto the ferry where we would rest again before a later start to running (but back in England!) for Day 3.

Dinner was McDonalds I think. I know it was wolfed down and before long I Was in bed and happily snoring (though perhaps less happily for poor Scott who was in my room…).

And yes, Day 2 totalled 57.81 miles.

So that was 105.22 miles in two days. 0.42 miles more than four marathons. A quad marathon in two days!

But there was only about 60 miles left, so the rest would be easy, wouldn’t it!

Wouldn’t it?

[andywg]

Part 4 - Day 3

The back was broken, as I had proudly stated during Day 2. How then would I face a further two days of running in blighty?

Find out…

Day three started early, like really early. The alarm was set for 3:30 to get up, get ready and get on the ferry for the crossing to Newhaven (this ungodly early crossing was what required the heroic exploits from everyone yesterday).

KB was as kind as kind could be and booked cabins for 8 of us. Though this meant that Tel and Leah (cyclists originally) were left in seats. I would have had far more sympathy for them if I wasn’t so tired. I got on board, had a full English breakfast, noted that at least Dick Turpin had the decency to wear a mask after paying and then crashed asleep for some time. The crossing was a little rough, but when sleeping in a cabin, it just rocked and it was amazing! I am fortunate enough to have sea legs so I get by happily on boats anyway.

As we rolled off we found a new thing - support! Whilst we had Churchy at the start of the first day (and he was awesome to meet) suddenly there were about 8 runners and 6 cyclists! Then the radio phoned up for an interview (I had been on BBC Kent with KB and Ems and they did the follow up interview whilst I attempted to get ready).

I was still bouncing around and felt great, despite the efforts of the day before. Further pride would come as my fellow runners referred to me as ‘a machine’ and noted how I was just going on and on and on.

Eventually I donned some fabulous clothing (pink zebra shorts) and we were ready.

But mentally I wasn’t. I was only 3 miles in and I just could not get right. It was so bad I was even putting Ems off. She sent me forwards to get away from her and to sort my mind out just by running. A lass called Cathy (who was training for Chester Marathon and whom I would meet again there) came with as she tried to get some miles in. Gradually I felt better and we stayed together and chatted about running and marathons and such until the first aid station at about 10 miles in. She bowed out there and I carried on. There was another aid station about 6 miles later and by then we were all a little fatigued and somewhat dreaming of a night in a real bed rather than a Formula 1 hotel.

I started to catch up with some of the speedsters who had been confounded by a lack of toilets and seemed no longer to want to poo outdoors (I still hadn’t, I hasten to add). I then drifted back, as is my wont, as I wanted to chat to those towards the back, I had to say hello to all!

At about 18 miles Ems decided she wanted to step onto the bike to save herself for about 35 miles the day after. This was a silly mistake. The next section was about 3 miles of horrid hills.

And then it all went weird.

We were at a stop at around 19 miles.

And someone had miscounted

Today was not going to be 27 miles

It would be 22 miles if we finished in the right place.

This was very weird, and very welcome. KB had flown on with Rich, the middle order stood shocked at the car. I ran back down the hill to get Dave as Leah was suffering with the Sussex/Surrey hills. I gave him the good news and escorted him back to the checkpoint.

We all laughed and then we headed off. KB left us some messages along the way:

Firstly he mimicked Dave’s regular call that we were lions for doing this



And then , at mile 22 he took us off the official route to a nearby pub, most welcome!



Once Ems and I got there I let her go in and promptly turned around to run back and get Dave. This is not bravado, but a club thing. In my club, when the faster people get to a point on a longer run, they will turn around and run back to the slowest people and run them in. That way nobody ever feels left out or like they are dragging anyone back.

I had managed a little 0.36 miles before getting the route sorted. It was a further 21.99 miles to the pub

Once in the pub we sat down, everyone discussed what to do and everyone else decided that an extra 10k today to take it past ultra distance (And therefore help H who had got out of the van to run an ultra with us and who kept me company for a while).

I Wanted to roll over and sleep. The machine was running on empty. People even noticed which upset me a little, I had only just managed to culture a reputation in running that did not rely on my clothing, to lose it so quick would not do. So I took a gel, swigged some full fat coke (again!) and off we set. I set off with Em and took a long way around a triangle (helpful as my foot was starting to complain). We then started to get with the peeps. I asked Ems if she minded me playing with the speedsters a little as I hadn’t really spoken to them too much.

She agreed, which was nice.

They were too slow for me, which was weird.

I head off and stormed forwards. By the time I was at the 3.5 mile or so mark to see the van with Adam I couldn’t see anyone. I was running well enough so I left him there to speak to the others and I forged on. As it happened I ended up doing the 6.55 miles in 1:05:44. Not bad after having already run 127.57 miles in the preceding 56 hours or so!

That made it 134.12 miles in three days.

When I got to the finish point, it wasn’t the finish point. No firm decision was made. I suggested it was a good finish point (pub with car park at a major junction) and I stopped there before Adam had managed to get there with the van. After a stretch he had just turned up as I turned around. I settled down with a can of full fat coke (…!) and waited for the runners.

To my surprise it was Ems next in her pink vest. Excitement got the better of me so I ran the few hundred yards to her bowed won on hands and knees and then ran her in. Next came Rich, Kier, KB who were walking from the aid station to save themselves for the next day before Dave and last it was Scott (who was suffering with his ankle) and Tel who was looking to make himself a real ultra runner again until I told him there was a pub that would let him use their loos.

I had already popped into the pub, shown him my ludicrous attire and asked whether, since I had run there from Paris, he would mind letting me use his toilet. He said yes as he was a decent kind of guy, but joked I had to do so “quickly”…

And so, after a bit of trouble getting the Porsche to actually come and pick us up as well (they appeared to misunderstand how many runners there were and how many seats the van had) we were off and on our way to the nights location, the jockeys’ quarters of Lingfield Park Racecourse.

We were there so early we had time to go for a swim and sauna and steam room. I got Leah to rub my calves down a bit to try and sort that out. And then we all had a meal. To try and make up for the fact I had not poo’d outdoors I decided to drink beer at night which is also an ultra runner trait. It was lovely and we all slept well dreaming of the finish the next day.

134 miles down, surely it wouldn’t even be 30 miles tomorrow now.

[andywg]

Part 5 - Day 4

This was it, the final glory lap, the courageous runners would return successfully to London to a heroes’ welcome!
Or would they?

Well, pretty much yes, I know it’s spoilt the story, but I am bored of trying to inject fake tension to what I believe is a fairly decent job on its own!

Day 4 had us waking up in good spirits, everyone who started out running was running again, and Tel was staying off the bike as he had a bit of a bug for the ultra running. H, after finishing an ultra, returned to the van and let Adam come out to run.

Adam’s only previous piece of running on the challenge was on day 2 when he ran with KB when KB was it his worst and suggested to KB that he felt KB was holding him back. I admired Adam for both his humour and cajones for doing that.

We started off (as was traditional) with a team talk from Dave:



When Dave saw KB chatting to an old man he asked if it was KB’s dad. KB was initially shocked then smiled and reminded Dave that the reason we were all there was because KB’s dad committed suicide.

I knew that people were turning up to help Ems, so I went off on my own and before long took to the front. About 2 or so miles later I realised someone was catching up. I presumed it would be Kier or KB. But no, it was Scott.

We had worried that Scott might have had to walk loads of this as his leg was so swollen words like stress fracture were bandied about. But he was flying. I shouted he was mental at him, he responded “the painkillers are working, so I figure smash through it whilst I can” and off he went. As an idea, I was hovering between 6:20 and 9:30 per mile at this point, and at the low end when he went past. He just flew past me. He must have been well under 8 minutes per mile. And he had never run more than 16 miles in one go before this trip. Truly awesome!

I then managed to upset Kier a bit. Kier is an awesome runner and had battled against losing his lunch a lot on the trip as well as some truly awful blisters (I was unfortunate enough on day 2 to get a single blister which, with a piercing by thorn at an aid station and vaseline afterwards was no bother thereafter). Kie was behind me a way whilst I had my music on. Kier was having to put some effort in after all these miles to reel me in. Kier did not appreciate me breaking out into a boogy as I walked the harder hills

The first aid station was at 8 miles and got a bit messy as we were all in the wrong starting place so the planned rests were also incorrect. I wanted to hang back to run with Ems, even if she did have others joining her but I was told I Was too far ahead, so I did the only other thing available, I grabbed some chalk and started writing the directions for those behind me.

I tried to stay in contact with the people towards the back and passed messages backwards and forwards with other runners. One very fast runner caught me at the second place (once I was inside the M25) and told me she was fine and just before he blasted off to meet KB he noticed my Brooks Green Silence (union jack) racing shoes and asked whether I had run the whole way in them. Why yes, I replied. He commented that I must have a very economical running style since he can barely run 5 miles in his (not the first person to say that to me). For me they just work, further proof that in running, there is no right or wrong, only what works for you.

I forgot my directions so went back for them and as I ran through the park at 16 miles I was picking off the amazing sights of the run in towards the finish. I had already crossed the M25 and mounted some of the tallest peaks on the North Downs Way (and wrote to my followers that the height of the hill was nothing compared to the height of their achievement - better than KB’s “big hill, eh?” but KB is from up north in Melton, so he can’t be blessed with looks or lioterary grateness like your author). Next, as I looked right I saw the shard, so I wrote on the floor to look and pointed it out with an arrow. And now I really had the bug.

I put down some thoughts next:

It is not the finishing
It’s not even the challenge
It’s the company along the way that make the challenge worthwhile

And I meant it.

I was joined by Barry a friend of Ems who had travelled from Kent (she was running with someone else from Milton Keynes). And as for Dave, he truly was Forest Gump. It seemed like every mile you met someone who asked if you were Arc2Arch. Proudly I shouted yes to which they would enquire for Dave and I would gesture behind me. He must have had over 12 when he caught me up at mile 27 and had between 20 and 30 see him at different points in the day.

Then there were the TFL signs, then red London buses and before long, there was the final great roadside, point: a tube station! I got a few odd looks both for my outfit and for my stopping to write (especially in Tooting when I got lost so had to go back and cross some arrows out!).

We had a great last stop at 20 miles where I said hello to everyone, then I was caught up by Ems, Tel, John and enjoyed running with them again. Ems and I had some fun



We even got the Po-Po in on the act! The cop on the right was initially dumbfounded by the prospect of having run from Paris!



There was some hard times as we weren’t sure how long it would be and the over ten mile stretch for the last bit was hard in renewed heat requiring a drinks run.

But soon, we were on Chelsea Bridge



And yes, I looked that amazing in Tooting and Streatham and didn’t get shot!



And so we had 2.5 miles left. We soon mad it to the meet up point at Hyde Park Corner. This would now be a mass “run” to Marble Arch to all arrive at one time. We were really going to do this!

And so we got there



There loads of people there and there was even a finish line! As one we stepped across it!



The last day was 30.29 miles. That made it a total of 164.41 miles by my Garmin (and meant Adam got his ultra).

Naturally, there were some joyous scenes!



And, despite all the miles, all the hours on my feet and (perhaps because of) all the full fat coke, I still had huge amounts of energy. I was bouncing around!

Hence, after the group photos:



When we had to jump, I still had some energy



There then came the celebratory drink (which I pinched from someone, and I apologise to them for monopolising it for 5 minutes)



I helped Ems drink some



And when it spilled out of her mouth I was gentlemanly and did not laugh at her at all…



Ummm….

I even ran to touch the arch with ‘my’ wine



And I even got a photo with my proud parents and the torch!



And so the challenge was done. I had run all the way from Arc2Arch and we raised a shedload of cash along the way. Indeed, I hear that today, as I write this, KB has secured the donations that take the year long total to over £10,000, the target for the year. I feel proud to have been (albeit a small) part of that.

And so there only remain my thoughts on the challenge which will be the final part.

[andywg]

Part 6 - After the Running

And so it is now October, I have finished the run some time ago and can now reflect on the run.
And how does it reflect?



It reflects much better in the pub afterwards!



But seriously, first I want to consider all those I ran with, both from the point of view of how they impressed me. As an overview, I felt I got on with everyone, whether they would still say that now I don’t know, but there were no factions and the bonhomie helped massively with the trip.

First up should probably be the man who made it all happen, the great KB!



Despite being a blatant attention whore, he is also a great guy. The thing that impressed me most was that he was in serious ache after Day 2 and still managed to smash it out on Day 3 just to get it over with as quick as possible.
And for me, it was very rare to get a compliment off of him, even if “you run well for a fatty” is a little bit back-handed…

And so to KB’s partner in crime, Rich May



You have to feel sorry for Rich, his life would be so much easier if it wasn’t for KB dragging him into all sorts of stupid challenges! He always impresses me. He had injury problems leading up, and was in a really bad state half way through Day one, yet he just sucked it up and got on with it. Truly awesome!

Next we have John



Unashamedly northern yet still with a sunny disposition. When he fell into a bit of bother on Day2 he jumped into helping everyone else, possibly because he had some idea of what we were going through. And he still got out there on days three and four. That’s some grit!

And so to Kier



Kier seemed to spend a lot of the time I saw him around aid stations to be doing his best to either keep or lose his lunch, it was difficult to tell which! But he stuck at it. Perhaps the best compliment from him was his disdain for my dancing up the hills when I was meant to be tired like everyone else!

But what of Dave?



Dave likes to run topless when it’s warm, he was also in the Olympics opening ceremony. And he is the last mofo you would want chasing you ever. He simply never stops! He gets going at his own pace, will vocally shout his plan (well, I think it’s shouting, northerners are gruff and may consider it merely talking) at you and then he will stick to it. Every day Dave impressed me, he simply had not an ounce of give in him at all. The praise he sung for me (including to his dad on the phone after a few beers) was heart warming. Without a doubt, Dave is a good guy.

Speaking of who might be a good guy seems appropriate to bring in Scott, the former Marine.



Scott was so modest as to almost make you believe he had no idea what he was doing or how he might do this, but once he was told what had to be done he just set out. His last day performance had me laughing in disbelief for a few minutes after he had run past me! He simply got out there and did it. And by the end? He had said two things that really warmed me.

Firstly, he said if he ever writes his memoirs there will be a chapter about this ludicrous dude who wore stupid clothes and not only completed this challenge, but was happy, smiling and all but bounced along the whole way.
Secondly, he said that he thinks he might “take up” long distance running… I suggested it’s a bit late for that!

And what of Tel?



As well as converting to my church of full fat coke ultra-running, Tel had done no training for this as he was meant to be on the bike. He had never run past 26.2. So he run 57 miles on day 2, 29 on day 3 and 30 on day 4. And he was never complaining, always had a grin and showed just how much ultra-running is a mental matter.

And the amazingly arsed Leah?



She must have ridden close to 200 miles by going back and forth along the column of runners, and when we were done for the day, she then started treatment (usually heavily weighted with sticking needles into Ems). A true angel on the trip and made the journey a lot of fun, even if it was the look of shock when she realised she could even see how tight my ITBs were whilst running

H



No, not the one from steps, this one just looks passably like Jamie Theakston. As with a fair few of the supporters who stepped up, H had never run beyond a marathon (and never beyond about 15 miles in 3 years) and smashed out 29 miles on Day 3, was happy the entire time and worked some wonders with the camera by both getting decent shots and managing not to catch us at our worst!

Adam



Adam was in training for a half marathon, so naturally needed a 30 mile run! He was awesome at making sandwiches and setting up his van of delights when needed. His slating of KB when he was suffering kept me laughing for some time (but then I was gradually going mad!). As with H, to just step out and smash the distance is impressive, but better was their help for us at the aid stations.

Becci and Nick



These were the corporates of our trip, they had schmoozed us into deals and freebies, and on top of that they were (sometimes…) about to help us including with some amazing ham and cheese rolls (I have often said that ultra running is all about how much you can eat along the way!).

And so finally, to my partner, Ems!



She ran the vast majority of it and cycled more than enough to make up the mileage. This was despite injuries reaching all the way back to when she ran London Marathon in April but she just kept at it. If I had her mental strength then I now I would be an even more awesome runner. Seeing her break down after finishing, and to see what it meant to her was touching.

And does that leave anyone else?

Well I suppose it does…



andywg, the neon running god, Cap’n Dulux and now, finally, considered for his running ability rather than what he wears (or perhaps even, in spite of).

In many ways, this is part of what I truly want to achieve from running. Whilst the fun loving looking silly but always smiling andywg persona is great fun to live, those that know me really well know that I didn’t just dress my way into taking an hour off my marathon PB, or getting a sub 2:25 20 mile PB. There’s a lot of work in there that goes unseen and there’s also a lot of disappointment when things outside my control (and inside) prevent me doing what I think I should be able to do. Those that knew me after Brighton saw me in a dark place.

But for a long time, I wan’t sure how I felt about this. It was great that we were stopped in Gatwick airport on our way to Ibiza by a (or yet another) friend of Dave’s!



The rest was well earned, though Arc2Arch has knocked out my aims for faster times in the latter half of the year.

I did suffer from my worst condition after it, that of “what next?”. When I finished my first marathon I Wanted more. Even when I got to 3:34, I wanted more. I was not happy with the 1:31:30 half best. Even the 2:24 20 miles time was a work in progress. I still want to go back and do Arc2Arch again but take it on for time. Similarly I have dreams of that Kent Challenge 50. I reckon I can go sub 10 and even sub 9 for a double marathon. But all the way along, every achievement just sets more goals.

However, today was the day of my law exam that marks the end of 2.5 years constant study and I have no target race until next April. And so I find myself finally able to properly reflect. Especially as today KB announced he managed to raise the target 10k for Rethink Mental Illness this year. And I Was a small part of that.

And you know what?

I can say this without abashment, fear, or feeling I should qualify it…

I AM FUCKING PROUD OF WHAT I ACHIEVED!

I ran from Paris to London

And conversely, it’s the one thing so many people can’t even start to comprehend so they don’t realise quite what an achievement it is until I meet a group of runners (like the Tweet up before Chester).

Seriously, though:

One Hundred
Six Tens
Four Units
Four Tenths
One Hundredth

I’d say that’s worthy of a little rest before I return to training hard and studying. For now, I will unashamedly raise a glass to myself and my co-runners. We smashed the fuck out of Arc2Arch and whatever challenge KB has next, I will be more than prepared to stand and run with him. He has a worthy aim (to raise awareness of mental illness) and I have so much to thank him for, both directly and indirectly.

And you know what, I haven’t gone back to check, but I think right now is the first time in ages I will point something else out. Despite all the above, all the miles and everything, this is finally something of which I can truly be proud of for my running without needing to even start to point out the metal holding my foot onto my ankle.

So if I can do this, can you really question whether you can reach your running goals?

NEVER DIE WONDERING

A

[I am Leg End]

AMAZE BALLS!

[sheriff]

A bloody well done from me! I loved this part:

I even tried to talk to some cows, but I got no response. I tried English (Mooo!), I tried French (Le Mooo!) and I even sang a whole chorus from a song I Was listening to out loud at them.

I got nothing.

Well, nearly nothing. One of them stared me dead on and straight in the eye.

And crapped.

[snakeysam]

Epic report from an epic run. Inspirational stuff! I'm planning to do the Leeds to Liverpool Canal (127 miles) over 4 days in 2014, so I know where to come for advice