Thames Ring 2011
9 am on Wednesday 22 June, 33 runners gathered for the start of the Thames Ring race. In the Morrell Rooms where we registered and did the final bit of kit adjusting, there had been a lot of chat between the runners but with about 10 minutes to go, it got quite a bit quieter; everyone contemplating what we were about to take on. 250 miles in a maximum of 100 hours.
Outside, the sun was shining and the race started with the minimum fuss. Over the bridge between Streatley and Goring and then downto the side of the Thames. Pretty soon we were out in the countryside, running through a field of cows. Red kites circling low overhead and a light breeze made it all very pleasant. Then the first surprise; I knew we would be away from the river at points but I had not expected to be going up hills (canal maps don’t have contour lines)! Still, the trail was good and being wooded it was well shaded. Atthis point I ran with Bob L who had completed the Race in 2009 and spent a bit of time getting advice about the route ahead as well as some insight into how it differs from the GUCR in terms of effects on the runners. We carried on together for some time, meeting up with Ernie as well then at some point I stopped to re-arrange kit and they carried on. This was to be the pattern for most of the first day, running along with someone for a while then splitting up as one stopped for some reason. Always there was chatting, no one wearing headphones or cutting themselves off – truly a fellowship of the ring!
Somewhere around Caversham (there are going to be a few vague bits in this report), it started to cloud over and then the rain started. Light atfirst, we were soon running through a downpour. The trail became a river and there was no way to avoid getting your feet wet. With the race barely an hour old, this did not augur well for keeping blister-free very long. Still, it was bound to dry up soon?
On through the rain, through Henley and the preparations for the regatta next week. I joined up with another group of runners and we followed some police officers checking out security along the banks of the regatta course – they did not seem to consider us a threat. A kingfisher provided a brilliant splash of blue in an otherwise grey and green scene then it was away from the river again at Aston for another slight climb up a road flowing with water. I ran a bit with Hazel from South Africa here, one of the many who had travelled specifically for the race (fromItaly, Norway, Sweden and France too). As the trail returned to the river, it finally stopped raining and the sun came out. The water got squashed out of my socks pretty quickly and by the time I came into the first checkpoint at Hurley, they seemed dry enough to continue wearing.
The first of the checkpoints was typical for the race; groups of volunteers providing food, fetching bags, helping with any issues (including treating feet) and generally providing a very welcoming and understanding atmosphere. I’m afraid I have not been good at remembering everyone’s names (only the runners had theirs written under their race number) but all made you feel they were particularly interested in you and followed your progress through the race. Unfortunately, despite all the care, my stomach rebelled and I was not able to keep down any of the soup or snacks on offer. This has been a problem for me before and caused me to retire from the West Highland Way race last year. From the GEDM this year, I knew it would pass eventually so was prepared for a little early discomfort expecting it to clear up in a few hours. Took some high energy drink to compensate and left the checkpoint.
For the next few miles, each field was separated by a “kissing gate”. These irritating structures concentrate people following the path so much that a depression is worn down in the gate and all of these were filled with water. For each one I balanced round the edge to try to keep my feet dry and then at one particularly large one, I tried jumping. Single foot landing, no grip, flat on my backside in the mud. Still, managed to preserve the tops of my water bottles from getting covered in mud or other countryside matter so it was not too bad. I heard later that Hazel had not been so lucky; a similar slip had caused her to break her arm and her first trip to the UK was going to include a hospital visit.
Once out of the fields, this section seemed to go by pretty quickly. I remember going through Maidenhead and recognising places from visiting my sister-in-law when her family lived there a few years ago. The sickness had still not cleared and it was taking two goes to get anything to stay down but I still felt I had enough energy. Windsor followed and then it was an end to the grand riverside properties with their rolling lawns and boathouses as we entered Staines. No more fields, the path was now mainly tarmac or gravel but it meant the puddles were smaller and easier to avoid. Came into checkpoint 2 at Chertsey a bit later than I had targeted but 55 miles done and time for another breather.
This time we were in a large tent and the cooker was busy providing beans and spaghetti. Again I could not keep anything down on the first try, despite waiting 20 minutes. I decided to leave the checkpoint with company and fortunately Neil and Ian were prepared to put up with me.
We set off at a good walking pace then mixed in some jogging and had got a few miles down the path to Hampton before I had to make another forced stop and let the others carry on. I kept on thinking I would catch them up again and this made the long curve through Hampton Court Park then the more built up Kingston pass quite quickly. However, I did not catch them and by the time I reached Teddington, was resolved to completing the section on my own. The directions we had for the section suggested there were going to be a few points which might be difficult to follow when not too alert so I was starting to look forward to being on the Grand Union Canal again, a path I know from previous races. At Teddington lock the route went through what seemed in the dark to be a complete wilderness for several miles. Surely this was not still in London? This was the worst bit of the race so far for me – approaching dawn in a wet wood, not too convinced I was on the right path. Just as it was getting light, the path improved and opened up to parkland so I took a few minutes on a park bench to get some more energy drink down ready for the convoluted route through Richmond. From then on, all my decisions were poor; I remember turning too early after the Richmond lock and getting on to roads outside the width of our maps, I missed the pathway signs at the London Apprentice pub and walked up and down the same street several times. And this was in daylight! OK, so it was also about 20 hours into the race. The next potential challenge was crossing Syon Park to pick up the Grand Union Canal – this I managed first go and started feeling pleased with myself again. From there it was pretty straightforward, if not very pretty, territory up the canal to checkpoint 3 at Yiewsley. 82 miles done and the first section of the Thames complete. Just to make things better, there was even IrnBru at the checkpoint!
Left Yiewsley feeling distinctly better than when I had arrived. Twenty minutes lying down for a sleep then some food and drink and the usual excellent banter from the checkpoint crew had raised my spirits and my energy levels quite a bit so I set off with more purpose and a faster pace. It was soon warm, though windy, so when clouds blocked the sun the temperature dropped quite quickly. I wanted to be careful about getting too hot or cold so my running/walking was frequently broken up by swapping layers. Each stop prompted me to take a drink as well which helped too and I continued through this leg feeling quite good. There were no navigational challenges to this section either and all was familiar from the GUCR; almost felt like being on home turf. Paths were all pretty reasonable and the surroundings varied.
My Garmin repeatedly stopped during this section, despite having sufficient battery power, and when it came to the next checkpoint, I did not bother trying to sort it. We were being given laminated copies of the canal maps for each section at the checkpoints and looking at these to gauge distance was far more interesting. All bridges and locks are numbered and there are little dots to mark each mile. As I now had my glasses on, I could actually read them – earlier when running with Hazel, she could not see any distance due to wearing prescription sunglasses in the rain, and I could not read the map with my contacts in so we worked on a system of descriptions! Came into the checkpoint still feeling reasonably good and tucked straight into some food.
Chaffing became quite a problem on this stage; I won’t go into details (though they were sufficiently gruesome to get me into the inaugural Piece of String Race) but would advise anyone running this race to add a small tub of lubricant to the compulsory kit list to carry at all times!
Checkpoint 4 at Berkhamsted was quite lively, being next to a pub probably helped! Chatted a bit with Stefan and introduced Neil to the delights of IrnBru – can’t say he was overly impressed. Got a much better reaction from making the Italians try some jelly. Everyone’s race pace had settled down now so you were getting to know those around you on the course. A few people were having a sleep at this checkpoint but I still felt OK to carry on. Over a hundred miles done now in somewhere round about 32 hours.
Left the checkpoint in good spirits and headed off for the Tring cutting. This section of the canal is well sheltered from the wind and the water was almost static. As a result, all the drowned animals for miles around seemed to have collected here and it became best not too look too closely (when I mentioned this at the next checkpoint, it initiated an almost Monty Python style competition of what dead things people have seen in canals “rabbits and badgers, nae ‘t were cows in ma day” etc). The path continued to be good and I was happy with progress and how my legs were bearing up – no sign of any strains yet. I’d had to deal with some small blisters at the last checkpoint but the compeed and fresh socks were working so it was almost comfortable. I can’t remember seeing other runners during this section, despite there having been some leaving around the same time from the checkpoint. Quite a few canal boats moored up for the evening and people on the towpath; always a quick hello and occasionally some questions about what I was doing . . . . followed by laughter.
Down towards Leighton Buzzard I picked up a bit of speed in anticipation of stopping at the 24 hr Tesco I knew to be right next to the towpath, and actually open during the week unlike during the GUCR. Felt a little scruffy going in but they seemed happy to serve me a wrap, some coke and crisps. Sat on a bollard by the canal to eat expecting to see some other runners go past but no sign of anyone other than normal people. Well-refreshed and with dusk approaching, I set off again. After half-an-hour for digestion, I was running again for 10 minutes at a time and feeling good. I still had not seen any other runners on this leg until I came round the lock at Stoke Hammond and found Robert C sitting on a step. I stopped for a chat and to see if he needed anything and it became clear to me that he was not in a good state. I decided the best thing would be to walk him into the next checkpoint where I was planning to have a sleep. It took a long time to get in; Robert was adamant he would be OK after a little rest whilst I thought he looked pretty far gone (Robert proved to be right and finished in 86 hours, just shows what recovery is possible with a bit of sleep and food). When he started weaving I got canal side and had to prod him back onto the path occasionally and it was quite a relief to get into the checkpoint and hand him over to the marshals. Tiredness then seemed to sweep over me and I headed straight for the tents having asked to be woken up in one and a half hours.
A deep sleep later, I was up for soup and some bread before getting ready to head off again. I’d slipped quite far behind my original estimated schedule but was still leaving an hour or so ahead of the checkpoint cut-off. With the sections now having longer time limits, I expected to maintain or improve this gap without too much trouble so was not too bothered. Still, feeling OK and able to continue were the important things. Throughout the race I cannot really remember being aware of position or how many had dropped out – unless you actually met someone at a checkpoint who had stopped. Started off on my own again and headed out into the glimmerings of dawn.
Before it was really light, I was suffering quite a bit of tiredness and felt the need to lie down on a bench for 10 minutes. Got going and managed another few miles before it hit me again. I pushed on a bit (mainly because I could not find anything to lie down on as the grass was wet) before succumbing and taking another 10 minutes by the side of the path. This time it seemed to work and I woke up feeling more alert. Pressed on to the Blisworth tunnel and had to be pretty alert climbing on and off the verge as cars came along the road we had to follow before getting back down to the relative safety of the canal. Another reasonable stretch of canal then it was into checkpoint 6 at Nether Heyford.
With hindsight I must still have been quite dopey at this point because I cannot really recall much about the checkpoint or the initial miles to the Leicester arm of the canal. Just past the arm I do remember stopping for a highly calorific ice-cream and from then on things must have picked up! The Braunston tunnel could have been a challenge if you did not know the route as it would be very easy to think you were going the wrong way. From the GUCR, it was relatively simple for me and by the time I’d got past all the Braunston locks, I was ready to stop for an ice cold drink from the canal shop. Sat on a bench and called home; having been texting from the checkpoints, this was my first real contact with my family and it was good to hear everyone’s voices. Braunston was absolutely heaving with canal-types gathered for some sort of boating fair but all were very helpful stepping off the path and letting me carry on my way (probably did not want to come near me) and in no time I had made the turning onto the Oxford canal (and avoided going to Birmingham on auto pilot).
It was sunny and reasonably warm at this point but as I carried on down the Oxford canal, it started to cloud over. The footpath got steadily worse – narrow and overgrown – and there seemed to be fewer and fewer signs of habitation or canal boats. By Napton junction the sky was grey and a little bit further on it started to rain. I stood under a bridge for a bit to see if it would pass but it became evident that this was no shower. Off into the rain I trudged, trees on the bank protecting from the rain at first but then the vegetation adding to the soaking as brushing through long grass dumped water all over you. The light started to go and I was getting more and more wet until everything was absolutely soaked through. The path was really convoluted here too; almost doubling back on itself as it meandered round the hills. This added to the general feeling of gloom as even though the distance was being done, you felt it could have been so much more efficient. I stopped under a bridge and put my headphones on for the only time in the race. Head down and loud music on, I stalked on with a bit more purpose; let’s get this section finished! This went on for between 2 and 3 hours before checkpoint 7 came into view. A nice warm pub! I walked down the front, unable to find the checkpoint crew and stared in at the light and warmth. Back up to the path and round the back, I found the orange cones marking the checkpoint and almost stumbled into the tent. Quick discussion with the checkpoint crew then I headed for one of the camper vans to strip off my wet gear and get some sleep. Another example of the terrific dedication and resourcefulness of the checkpoint crews; keeping all the kit and the sleeping places dry in this rain and with all the soaked runners dropping wet stuff all over the place. I settled down in my sleeping bag with the intention of getting a couple of hours sleep after 183 miles in about 60 hours. Listening to the rain as I fell asleep, it did occur to me to just stay there until it stopped.