Ultra_Tales_Issue_13

EVENT REPORTROSELAND AUGUST TRAIL - THE PLAGUEthe demons of the previous year's DNF despite alack of training.I stuck to my promise at the checkpoint. Ben andDoug had long gone and chase was not an option.First up another cup of soup and roll. Then Ichanged over my socks, packed away my head wragand donned a visor. Wired up my iPod and just asthe next runner arrived I was on my way. A tenminute turn around but I felt better and the legsseemed appreciative of a break. Neil Young rangthrough my ears, the morning skyline unfettered bycloud, the sun radiating early morning warmth, thesea tranquil. Nare Head didn’t look such animposing proposition now and I promised myself atreat if I could make the Nare Hotel in eight hours(3.5 miles in 40 minutes).There were still a few runners at the back of thefield making their way out and the rallyingcontinued. Near Creek Stephen I passed anotherBosvigo dad, Paul, who I had finally met at the teatent. He was pushing tight to the cut-off on tiredlegs having run Race to the Stones the previousweek. He was shortly followed by the sweepers.Determined to get my treat I ran quite hard throughthe overgrown fields to the Nare Hotel arrivingfifteen seconds late! Still worthy of a bite of ChiaCharge flapjack. Nare Head beckoned and I wasactually quite relieved to get back into somesteeper climbing although my butt soon remindedme of the overnight fall. I developed a ratherawkward gait on the climbs to minimise the pain. Itwas effective. Above Sharnack Point I looked backfor the first time since leaving Portscatho. The coastpath wound around the low lying cliffs behind me.It appeared empty.Portloe was quiet and I had no intention to stickaround. I topped up my water, munched a fewtortilla, thanked the staff and left. Looking acrossthe harbour I caught sight of a runner in red - thesame guy who had entered Portscatho as I left. Ireckoned I had five minutes on him. Exposed on thesteep rocky headlands the sun was baking. What Iwould give for an ice cold drink. I buried thatthought. Fatigue was a constant battle on even thesmallest climbs but my legs were working well onthe descents still.At Portholland, Andy Goundry had set up a surprisecheckpoint. I filled my bottle and grabbed a fewbrazil nuts which, unfortunately, were way too dryto swallow. I stopped to photograph the cliff I hadfallen from. In the light of day it didn't look sodramatic but still sent a shiver through me seeingthe boulders my head so fortunately missed.Next target was the Dodman about 3 miles distant,followed by a long downhill to Gorran Haven.Without the comfort of inners, my feet were finallysuccumbing to hot spots and there was no optionbut to stop at Porthluney beach and slap on someVaseline. A chance to take in the impressiveCaerhays Castle, radiant in the morning light. Thefield beyond the beach was full of highland cattle.Timid they might be, but with calves amongst them,I took a very wide berth as they looked quiteuncomfortable with my presence. At Hemmickbeach I noticed a runner bearing down on me atspeed. It was not the red runner, but Jeremy Warrenfrom SARC. He mumbled something about runningthe first half too slow as he sped past me on thesteep scramble to Gell Point.On the final push to the Dodman my trance wasbroken by the ringing of my phone. It was Nadia.The girls and her planned on driving up to greet meat the finish. I was surprised my pace was stillfloating around 13:30 but reckoned with thecondensed ascent over the last miles to still finish at15:00. Pace was slowing rapidly, my back was verypainful and I was repeatedly thinking about walkingin. Nad offered encouragement and from nowhere Iwelled up. Thinking of my family and that fallperhaps. Or just the emotional high of 30 hourswithout sleep. We said our farewells and withrenewed ardour I strode on to the Dodman.Again the high was rapidly quashed. For the firsttime I couldn't generate the speed I had hoped onthe descent. My legs were aching from top tobottom. Following a scramble over the rocks thetranquil beach of Gorran came into view. I promisedmyself a chair and a long rest at the checkpoint anddid just that. Duncan and James (Turner) fed mewatermelon as we chatted about the Exmoor Ultrawe had all run in the spring. It was great to finallyintroduce myself and the guys were so friendly. Icould have sat and chatted all day but soon enough90 ULTRA TALES | OCTOBER 2014Sponsored by thehttp://