My second attempt at this race and what can I say….I will be entering next year!
The race morning was typical, up early (3:30), breakfast, final kit checks and go go go.
We arrived at gas street with plenty of time to spare. Registration was a breeze and after what felt like a few minutes we were stood toeing the start line. The nerves were in full swing. After last years DNF at 93 miles would I get to that point again and have to drop out, would I drop before that, anything is possible over these distances. But something I have come to realise is don’t trust or take much notice of your legs (use common sense here) until you are way passed 30 miles because they always feel heavy at this point.
The start of the race was typical, race brief by Dick (the canal races Lazarus Lake) and 6am you are off on what seems like a run that has no end.
However, this time round was different. I knew the training had been done, I knew my nutrition and I knew my crew. Headed up by an ultra-marathon runner I knew I was in good hands. I was also running the entire way with a friend which mentally was a huge support.
The miles and time ticked by quite fast, and I was remembering places from the previous year, where certain things had happened and where the wheels started to fall off.
I was using my own crew, Chris who I was running with was using the checkpoints. we came up with a plan before the race that when he stopped id carry on to the crew car which at most was 4 miles further id get there and by the time I was done he would be caught up. Well, it worked pretty much how we had planned. The canal path to London Is beautiful. It dips in and out of towns, countryside, old industrial areas and there are some quite welcomed road and park crossings. We had different crew dropping in with crew master Rich for a lot of the race. Different faces and smiles really do work wonders for lifting your spirits and I thank all those that came out at points of the race and who ran with us for parts of the second day.
I’d like to say for this write up that things were going wrong and we had to adapt, but this time round we just kept moving. We got to Leighton buzzard, the Tesco there to be precise this is where I DNF’d in 2021. This was where everything had fallen apart and I was done. Only this time round I stuck my middle fingers up and we kept going.
The night was short, a gift of having the race pushed back to coincide with the jubilee weekend, in 2021 I walked the whole night. I couldn’t bring myself to run any more. This time we ran until the tiredness caught us and then we ran half a mile and walked half a mile, this would take us through to sun rise and the birds were out in full force with their dawn chorus. The weather had been a bit hit and miss through the night with some slight rain showers and high winds.
The next day the sun was blazing and it was a whole new ball game.
Ice lollies on route were a godsend and ice cold coke always tastes better after 100 miles.
And the 100 miles were ticked off in 23 hours my first 100 and it was an emotional one but we still had a long way to go.
Tired eyes that could only be opened by running was the order of the next day so we would run until we needed a rest, walk until our eyes got too heavy and the repeat.
By around 120 miles I could no longer keep up when walking id got an extremely sore left lower leg and every walking step was a painful limp which was just cutting my pace. However, I could run, running was not causing me any discomfort, so I got into the rhythm of running until I could no longer see Chris behind then id walk until he had caught me id leave him to go on then id start running. We would leapfrog each other like this for the majority of the final section of the race. We hit the Paddington junction 13 miles to go.
This has to be the hardest part of the run. While the end is insight the mind Is already telling the body its done. With two diversions this year was 149 miles. When the 145 showed on the watch but the finish line was still nowhere to be seen the mind starts to wonder.
What if I just sit down and stop.
What if I just go home, I’ve ran 145 miles.
These questions are easy to answer with one foot in front of the other. We keep moving.
4 miles seemed like a lifetime, the most difficult 4 miles I have ever ran. But damn that finish line was a sweet sight. Our wives and crew at the finish to welcome us in and that medal around our necks, the weight of which almost floored us.
The end, like the start Is a thing of lowkey beauty. I true testament that its not inflatable finish lines and glitter that make a race, it is however the people that make the race possible. The check point marshals, the finish line marshals all these people make the race feel that little bit easier. And to come into fresh hot coffee and Jaffa cakes well I ask you this, what could be better.
This race was emotional, but the smiles never stopped. its one thing to run just to get out for some fresh air, but to see where a simple sport can take you mentally and physically is something to cherish its something that you cant help but smile about no matter how tough the race.
For those that know me know how much this race means to me, it is this race that the thought of running turned my mental health around. It is this race that gave me a little purpose and something through bad times to focus on. And it was this year that I got to the finish line. The idea was to go all in this year with the canal slam but with a soon to grow family I have had to postpone this until 2023. So, with all luck I will be toeing that start line but from London to Birmingham and I can relive this race all over again because I couldn’t think of another race id rather do than the GUCR. So, to Keith, Dick and everyone involved and to all those that stood on that start line thank you! It’s been an honour.
