It has taken forever for me to get around to writing this, partly because my enjoyment of it was tarnished a bit by the fact that it made me horrendously ill.  The day after the race I went to London to watch the Marathon in person – and I got dizzy, nauseous – then vomited, then kind of sat down and passed out a bit, until I ended up in London Undergrounds’ version of a school sick bay.  There was more vomiting to follow and a week off work.  Andreas had to collect me from Liverpool Street Station like some diseased toddler from nursery and my friend had to sit with me for hours until Andreas could make it.  It was that bad.  Presumably, in combination with general post-race exhaustion and accidentally ingesting the wrong bit of field at some point during the run, it had mixed inside me and my body must have generally had enough and decided to switch off.  Note to self: No more ridiculously muddy obstacle races! And many thanks to the London Underground staff for scooping me up off the floor!

So what am I talking about?!

The race! A 20 K obstacle course called W.A.R. – Warrior Adrenaline Race – which tells you a lot about the mentality of the race organisers (Regiment Fitness).  The pre-race pep talk consisted of being yelled at like army recruits to run around in circles and to do burpees.  I was not impressed and ignored their burpee requests.

Why would I subject myself to this?

The idea of doing an obstacle course was planted earlier on this year at a friend’s 30^th birthday party.  Said friend’s cousin regaled me with tales of heroic conquests of muddy hills, electric fences, cargo nets and swimming across rivers.  She was tall, unapologetically athletic, and fiercely beautiful with a face that looked years younger than she was claiming to be.  Obviously she was someone who knew just a bit about healthy living and keeping fitness interesting.  “So long as you can run, you’ll be alright” She told me.  “It’s loads of fun!”  I looked over at Andreas who with a raised eyebrow let me know there was no way he would be participating in any such madness.  But still the seed was planted.

A couple of weeks later whilst perusing the race pages of Runner’s World I found an obstacle race conveniently located near family and whilst Andreas was away.  Awesome, I thought, I had been wanting to mix up my training a little. Since entry costs were the same for all the distances I picked the longest figuring I would get more adventure for my money!

Which is how I came to find myself one freezing April Saturday morning at the Woodhall Estate, in the Hertfordshire wilderness, wondering if short sleeves and shorts were a mistake and if I would still be able to climb rope bridges if I lost circulation to my fingers as was already happening whilst queuing for registration.  During this time, Mum and I (whom I had roped into taxi service) chatted in the queue to fellow runners, where I met my saviour – Gustav.

How to enjoy madness!

Gustav. Everyone needs a Gustav. He was an absolute legend.  He runs half marathons and obstacle courses once a month for fun, so apart from being very knowledgeable on what to expect, he was also happy to slum it around the course with me and a great conversationalist to boot!  I am so grateful!  Without him I would have been entirely miserable.  With him, I actually had fun in spite of the cold, wet, mud and high things.

So how does a 20 K obstacle course turn out?

Turns out there are some obstacles!  The basic format was a very obstacle heavy first 5 K, with a stretch in the middle of about 10 K which was mostly trail running, then the final 5 K which was also very obstacle and people heavy (10 K and 5 K route reconnected with the 20 K).  Obstacles ranged from piles of hay bales, wooden A-frames, wire bridges over water, cargo nets, tyres in various arrangements, tunnels and tubes, to more substantial wooden climbing frames, a rope climb, vertical walls to run up and a skip at the end filled with cold water for full body immersion.  Additionally, the course organisers took full advantage of any natural bodies of water and hills and mud and deliberately funnelled you regularly into rivers, bogs etc. and up the steepest hills. Plus, at one point it hailed (as in, ice, from the sky) and some dickhead marshal made you go face first in mud when it was entirely unnecessary (yes, I am bitter about that).

The first thing I learned was that hay bales are actually quite imposing close up.  I ran towards the first one excited to be getting on with it and embarrassingly stopped short.  It was like a short circuit.  Brain said, let’s jump, Body averted.  So I climbed over instead.  Less graceful than some of the other participants but I got there.

The second thing I learned was that 300 metres from the start of the race we already had to queue.  No point in racing Gustav had imparted before we set off, queuing is half of it.

The third thing I learned was that the course liked to get you wet and keep you that way, and that keeping my gloves on (despite being soaked through) was an excellent decision!

Despite the cold, chronic wetness and overzealous race marshals, I wasn’t going to wimp out.  And actually since I had yet to stop talking to Gustav I was pretty distracted and making good progress. Excellent progress in fact.  With Gustav on hand to literally throw me over obstacles and secure shoes (triple knotted) which proved surprisingly resilient to bogs and slipping we easily ticked off the obstacles.  I may have freaked out once – at the top of a cargo net climb – because, heights and smash-able skulls etc. but Gustav saved me, with calm reassuring advice (and moving my feet into the rungs)! About 5 K in, there was a near vertical muddy slope which we had to climb up with help from a rope.  My fingers were entirely numb (and had been since registering!) but I didn’t think about that (or how far I had to fall) I just persevered onwards.  The race marshals here were really encouraging and friendly and I could have hugged them when upon reaching the top they told us there were no more obstacles for a while.

Here is where I discovered an entirely new love. Forget pounding the pavements, trail running was immense, and I am entirely smitten.  It turns out I can enjoy hills if there is a good view and if the terrain is more interesting.  The 10 K that followed was easily some of the most enjoyable, scenic countryside I’d seen in a while.  The forest was covered in bluebells like some whimsical fairy tale and the hail that slammed us only added to surreal feel of the place.  The crowds were long gone and Gustav and I ripped up the kilometres, all the while having a pleasant chat. I didn’t even mind when the course deliberately snaked towards a massive dip or through a stream, it was all an adventure.  At some point a marshal on a bike joined us and he was also very friendly and encouraging (just the one dickhead then!). And, amazingly, I got the feeling back in my fingers – at least for a little while!

Too soon though we end up back with the obstacles.  Forth lesson: mud and contact lenses do not mix.  Higher walls to climb, more rivers to traverse, more people again including the occasional group of spectators.  It was around here Gustav pointed out he hadn’t had breakfast! So I shared some Cliff energy cubes which had miraculously survived in my pocket.  We kept going, Gustav bounding 10 foot fences with minimal effort and me getting thrown over by Gustav (also with minimal effort!).  At some point we had to cross above a bog by a wire bridge and in all seriousness, I very nearly fell in.  As more people climbed onto the bridge the lower wire got weighed down increasing the distance between it and the one above it (for balance and support).  This is okay if you are 6 foot something, it is not okay if you are 5ft 4in like me and you can’t feel your fingers again.  Gustav saved me. Again.  He got everyone (yes everyone) to stop and pull the two wires closer together so I could actually make it across without nose diving into yet more cold water.  I honestly don’t know what I would have done without him, so thank you Gustav for that!

Final stretch now; loads of obstacles monkey bars (which I had to skip because I simply cannot do the damned things), a vertical wall (which you are meant to sprint up which I lacked speed to complete – Gustav did it in one take!) and… The Skip.  I saw people faffing and taking their time but I knew the only way I would survive was to get it over and done with.  In, under, breath, under, breath, under, out.  During this time, I heard my Mum cheering (in and out of focus as I went underwater) so we were definitely near the end! The last obstacle, a leap of faith.  Gustav waited for me at the top so we got to jump together. Then 100 m to the finish.  20 K and a whole bunch of obstacles complete in 2:48!  Not only that but we finished in like joint 35^th place! I was the 6^th female!

This is why I am so annoyed and conflicted about the race, if it had ended there – a good solid effort, a new running buddy, a new love for trail running and some warm clothes/hot drink I would have written this up months ago and been raving about it.  But the following day I was so ill (and not just me I learnt later, at least 2 others too, which implies it was something on the course!) and disillusioned about the run that I simply could not easily write about it, hence the long hiatus (although since I have back dated the blog you can’t automatically see that).  Lots of other races and things have happened since the 23^rd of April on that bitterly cold morning but I couldn’t write about those until I got this race out of my system mentally as well as physically.  Suffice to say, I won’t be doing anymore muddy races! And I hope to fill in the blanks on this blog soon!

This weekend I ran the Sheffield Half Marathon (part of the PlusNet Yorkshire Marathon Series) with my bother Kyle and discovered three important things.

1) Sheffield is hilly.

2) You shouldn’t eat three breakfasts before running a half marathon.

3) Never underestimate the distracting power of a good view.

Okay – of course I had an idea Sheffield was hilly before.  I checked out the route elevation and quickly realised this was no short undulation.  It was 5.27 miles of hill.  Yes, you read correctly.  5.27 miles of hill.  Right at the start.  Just a 958 ft climb into the Peak District, some parts fundamentally steep!  Yikes.  Good job I have been hitting Oxford’s only hill each week in preparation.

Other preparation included a Slimming World friendly butternut squash and wholemeal pasta bake for dinner the day before (and maybe a slice of pizza – less Slimming World friendly but hey, if you can’t indulge before a race when can you?) and getting up early enough to eat breakfast.  Mum and I stayed in a hotel with a buffet breakfast which was nearly my undoing.

Faced with a spread of yummy pre-paid for food choices and I enter a kind of feeding frenzy which may even put piranhas to shame.  Damage limitation in this event was ensured by a restricted feeding window – I had to stop eating at 7:30 am to allow enough time for the food to digest before race start at 9:30 am.  Still even with only 15 minutes available I managed to eat, in no particular order, 2 slices of wholemeal toast (with jam), a sausage, some baked beans and scrambled egg, 3 mini pastries (the kind with custard and sultanas), a bowl of muesli with 0% fat Yeo Valley strawberry yoghurt and a banana, all chased down with a cappuccino and half a can of diet coke.  I am weirdly impressed at myself – but I regret these choices later!

Race start and perhaps unsurprisingly, 2 hours was not enough time to finish digesting the morning’s breakfasts.  I can run, but it is uncomfortable.  I can’t waste oxygen chatting to Kyle as I need it to break down sausage and bread.  I am feeling as if I am a step or two away from getting a stitch.  It lurks sinisterly under my ribcage, a tightness which cannot be alleviated by pressure or deep breaths.

We haven’t even gone 2 K and I think I may vomit.  On the plus side – my internal battle for blood flow (Stomach or legs? Legs or stomach? – Forget the fingers and toes altogether we have more important things going on!) – has made the start of the hill unnoticeable.  Of course, this gentle incline doesn’t last long and too soon Kyle is really in his element.  Between scrambled eggs and scrambling for breath I can’t keep up.

This.  Will.  Not.  Do.

Ego overrides basic physiological responses – by will power alone, I am not sick and I am not left behind.  Still it takes about 6 K for me to really get into the groove and have my circulation return to my extremities (why didn’t I wear gloves? I curse myself).  Which is just as well because between miles 4 and 5 is the steepest part of the course lovingly labelled as King (or Queen) of the Hill.  Kyle absolutely smashes it – his constant, steady determination leads us both up.  I tell myself I love this hill and weirdly enough it is working.  Now my stomach has finally digested everything I feel good.  Great even.  When the views emerge I am positively exuberant.

“Best run ever!” I tell Kyle, giddy with excitement.  All around us is green and hills and miles of extraordinary countryside in dazzling, splendiferous sunlight.  What makes the route all the more endearing is that literally every inch of this course is smothered with supporters and spectators.  We have our names yelled out constantly, hi fives offered on a steady stream and had I not already eaten so much I could easily have consumed my body weight in jelly babies.  I feel like a superhero – albeit one that cannot eat or drink anything for at least another few hours!

This race was so good.  Heading back into town, downhill and powered by a variety of foodstuffs I am invincible.  The little uphill sections thrown in which derail the other runners Kyle and I seem to glide effortlessly to the top.  Gotta love me some hills.  If anything Kyle is slower downhill, something which takes its toll by 18 K.  There is just 2 K to go but I can see Kyle is at his threshold.  Even so, he hasn’t realised it yet but he is going to destroy his previous record.  In fact it is even going to be close to my personal best.  The final push then, a suicidal sprint to the finish – and I am sadly disappointed it is over.  So soon?  I think.  Once I’d gotten over my indigestion this run was everything a great run should be.  Definitely one to repeat!  Massive thanks to the organisers and the city folk for making it such an incredible day.

Our official finishing times, 2:28:59 (Kyle) and 2:29:00 (Me) – which you have got to hand it to him.  As our finishers medals and t-shirts proclaim – Conquered the Hill!

You may or may not be aware dear reader but Oxfordshire is flat, flat, flat.  So much so that hills actually obtain their own names (The Wittenham Clumps, The Didcot Mounds, Headington Hill etc.).  So when I say I am not used to running up or down hill I genuinely mean it.

When I first started running I noticed every little incline around the Didcot Ladygrove Loop, the torturous lip by the chip shop, the bulge of girth by the school – all these slight deviations from flat I noticed them and they had the power to drain me, strain me, make me ache.  I am better than that now, I can’t say I even notice these little bumps anymore, but my point remains the same – my training has a distinct lack of vantage points acquired via hard graft up a gradient.

Lack of hills is generally not a problem, except, I have signed up to a few races which do include more generous amount of inclines.  Primary concern on this list of races is the Sheffield Half Marathon on the 10^th of April.  I am running this with my brother, Kyle, who lives in Sheffield (as previously mentioned) and whom generally considers anything with an incline of less than 10% not a hill.  Seriously – he asked how to adjust the incline on our Mum’s treadmill but it turned out that he had already MAXED it out (12%! And he wanted more).  To further disadvantage me in this race, Kyle runs the actual ROUTE 2-3 times a week.  My Mum told him it was cheating, but what else can you do?  In Kyle’s position I would do the exact same thing.  Of course it does leave me wondering if I will be able to keep up with him on the race day and whether my ego could handle the repercussions.

Egos aside, Kyle, loyal as he is, would not abandon me mid hill – so I mostly just don’t want to disappoint him, hold him back or have him wait for me. If that wasn’t enough of an incentive to find a hill to run on in Oxfordshire a visit to my brother in January certainly galvanised my plans.  Even a short visit to Sheffield – like overnight to see my favourite band InMe play – and you can see the streets go up and down with vigour.  Most of the preparation for this half was therefore not attempting to increase my speed or distance then, but rather to get used to hills – which in a place as notoriously flat as Oxfordshire is kind of a challenge in itself.

For example – Andreas and I had to run 7.5 K to get to the closest hill in Didcot.  The hill (in Little Wittenham – by the clumps) lasted only 500 m.  By the time we had gone up and down once we needed to head back or risk nightfall eclipsing us again.

Suffice to say there is one hill in Oxford and between early March and now we have been getting well acquainted.  Introducing Headington Hill.  It’s about 800 m long but quite steep.  Once a week I go out and run repeats on it.  Thankfully I can do a bit of variation, snaking up more slowly and gradually using the more scenic park route or just heading straight up to the apex via the footpath next to the road.  Up and down I go like a yoyo.  I count off the reps until I have done nearly 8-10 K then I head back.  I have no idea if this will prepare me for the relentless monster of a hill that I will face in Sheffield – but I don’t exactly have many other options.

Fortuitously for me, Runner’s World recently did a feature on Fears of Running and hills were included.  The advice was to convince yourself that you love them.  And distract yourself with music.  So if you can imagine I am running up and down Headington Hill with a new electronic album blaring, maintaining a positive monologue in my head such as; I love this hill, I am really enjoying this, oh look more lovely hill, third times the charm, once more with feeling, keep the hills coming…  Only time will tell if this is enough for me to be able to keep up with my brother Kyle – but as the weeks have gone by I find myself more excited than nervous to find out!