The Beachy Head report

"Are you Tracy?"
"Susie says she's really sorry, but she's running on without you, to try to get under 6 hours"

This is what greeted Tracy at the 3rd checkpoint, about 16 miles into our little stroll around the Beachy Head marathon. After promising to walk round with her, I'd left a message with a marshal, to try to ease my guilt, and run on without her, the red mist clouding my judgement. My final attempt at absolution would later see me adding an extra 4 miles on to the end of the marathon: well I'm not scared of ultras anymore!

It always happens! I learnt a while back to exercise extreme caution when tempted to use races as training runs. I always have to create little targets for myself. I run PBs instead of steady pace. I try to out-sprint the finishers in 10-mile races, while I still have another lap to go to do my 20-mile 2-lapper. I decide I have to beat my team mentor up ahead and score points for the team, when I have a marathon in a few weeks. No matter how level-headed I am on the start line, a change always happens in me and the red mist descends. Races for training really don't work for me.

The first 13 miles or so had gone well. Brendan Foster could, as usual, have said "Perfect weather for distance running", and incredibly, have been correct. Cool, cloudy and very little wind. I'd walked most of the way with Tracy, and she'd even got ahead of me a short way after I walked a few miles with the awesome Plodding Hippo. PH was struggling somewhat, on her 27th marathon in 3 years, and the 4th in the last 2 months. She got round OK, but today she was Strolling Hippo.

I left 'Hipps' and caught Tracy back up to be greeted by the gurning mugs of my support angels Gill and Margaret at checkpoint 2 (thanks girls!). I walked on with Tracy along the ridge and we were soon at half way in just over a respectable 15 minutes/mile pace. 6 hours 30 minutes seemed a reasonable target at this stage.

Tracy seemed OK so far, but my heel ached a bit and the side of my leg felt a bit stiff. I felt I needed a rest, and so started to run for a bit (for any non-runners reading this, you might have to get a distance runner to explain that to you). I felt good, much better in fact, so carried on for a bit.

I'd soon reached checkpoint 3, and realised that my average pace had speeded up considerably. I'd made up 15 minutes in only a few miles. I'd intended to wait for Tracy, but I realised I'd now have to wait 15 minutes! The cogs started to whirr and the plan formulate.

I'd made 15 minutes on 6:30 in the last 3 miles (mostly downhill), so surely in the last 9 miles I could make up another 15 to 20 minutes and finish inside 6 hours? In order to get my name on the results sheet I'd have to be inside 6 hours. As club statistician, this seemed to matter. It might also help if I ever have the opportunity to join the 100 marathon club. Don't laugh - I've only done 5 marathons and already these thoughts are entering my head.

So the plan was made. What about Tracy though? I'd promised to get her round. Oh the pangs of guilt! I explained my hesitation to a nearby marshal, and this, dear reader, is where we came in.

I decided to press on with my plan, but after a steep hill and 2 flights of stairs realised that this might not be as straightforward as it had seemed.

Apart from regular clouds of red mist, another thing that happens to me during distance races is mental gymnastics. I've become quite practised at my 26.2 times table. By various means I worked out that an average pace of around 13:30/mile would bring me in under 6 hours.

So I've done the first 17 miles at an average of 14:30 so I need to knock off another minute by the finish, but that's a minute spread over 26 miles, so 26 minutes gained over the last 9 so 3 minutes per mile better than 14:30 so 11:30 from here on in. Have I got that right?

Sometimes the sums can get a little tricky.

I was soon being greeted by Gill and Margaret at Cuckmere Haven, and quickly explaining my 6 hour deadline plan to them, pressed on.

7 miles in 90 minutes. Just under 13 minute miling. That's easy! Then came the Seven Sisters.

I was now on a mission. Mere hills were not going to stop me. I think some of the others I was passing, including Nicola, were a little surprised to see me running up the hills. I think my heart was a little surprised too! Any thoughts of a nice gentle stroll around the South Downs had now truly evaporated.

I managed to run over a few sisters, but 13 mins/mile was feeling a lot tougher than it sounded. Why do I always put pressure on myself in events? By Birling Gap, and the final checkpoint, time was tight, and then there was the small matter of Beachy Head to get over. I dashed past Gill and Margaret, dumping my tee-shirt and camera with them, shouted encouragement at Bob, whom I passed at the checkpoint, and raced on.

My GPS was counting down the miles for me. It wasn't until I reached the top of Beachy Head, with 1 mile to go, that I was finally convinced that I would make it and could relax. It was somewhere around here that the solution to my guilt feelings for Tracy began to take shape.

I ran down the last section, crossed the line, 5:55, quick celebration, quick drink, and to Gill who had just arrived at the finish:
"Let's get back to Birling Gap - quick!"

I walked the last leg again, with Tracy. I hope it helped her. It seemed like a good idea at the time. I confused RichK, taking photos at Beachy Head, who thought I had a twin. I ended up doing 30 miles. It was fun! Anyone for an ultra?


Will you forgive me Tracy?


Well done to all the Victory AC runners. Well done to Dave J in 29th place - only one girl passed you Dave! Well done to Dave W on his first marathon, finishing with Paul who, like Dave J, did the Clarendon Marathon 4 weeks ago. Well done Ian, Malcolm, Marilyn, Nicola and Bob. Finally, major commiserations to Pete, who for the second year running (or not!) retired with a dodgy ankle. Ooh!