Clarendon marathon 2017

This was it - the big running event of 2017. Over the last 8 weeks I've done 10 running commutes (of 18 miles per day) and 3 long weekend runs. I've floundered in more mud than I want to remember and had miserable nights from stinging nettles. When I woke up yesterday morning I was nervous and excited in equal measure because irrespective of training, the Clrendon Marathon is a big deal.

This was my seventh Clarendon and it was the most sociable start so far with a solid Romsey contingent - me, Ian Ralph, Matt Hammerton, Neil Jennings, Tam Ryan, Sue Sleath were all doing the marathon, with the Lovely Mrs S and Penny J in support before they headed off to Broughton for the start.

The Romsey team

It was a cool, overcast day with the going wet and muddy.  We set off and were quickly into narrow trails.  After a few minutes David Currie caught me up and we chatted briefly before he edged ahead and I lost sight of him.  Shortly afterwards, I started to become aware of an unpleasant wet feeling on the back of my shorts.  It was my water backpack leaking.  I spent the next hour with water dripping off my shorts, with me trying to drink as much as I could before it all seeped away. I must have been a delightful sight for the marshals.

One of the pleasures of this race is re-familiarising yourself with the route after a year has gone by.  The countryside was tremendous, and there were some really excitingly muddy sections. As ever, we spent ages going in circles around Winterslow before heading east to Broughton Down.

At the top of the downs there were more ruts and slippery chalk sections with the added excitement of guys on motorbikes coming the other way, who called out muffled shouts of encouragement as we passed each other.  Accelerating on to the road, a guy in black came steaming up level with me, just as I recognised Mum and Dad.  We managed a brief wave and I was off, into the second half.

It was a steady slog over the hill to Houghton, an almost-disastrous slip over the river bridge and a heave up the hill to look down on Kings Somborne.  Becky Tovey was there, madly yelling 'Come on Mark, come on Neil!' I looked around and to my amazement there was Neil, who had been talking up his injuries and talking down his chances so persistently that I never expected to see this dark horse cruising past. I didn't know whether to be pleased for him or outraged at his extraordinary pace after minimal training.

Neil is lurking behind me, ready to storm ahead

Out of King's Somborne, and the usual fun and games as we started the big ascent up to Farley Mount. On the really steep bit out of Broughton I started walking but felt impelled to run when I saw a photographer.  Up, then down a bit and then the long stony trail to Farley Mount.  Twenty miles in, and I could feel it.  Somewhere around here I took out Man In Black who had passed me at Broughton, which was a boost.

Three miles to go; my fingers were tingling (a sign of proper fatigue) and I was starting to stumble.  It was a big effort to keep a decent pace. I passed David Currie and tried to hold on. There was a steep stony slope with big tree roots; I stumbled all over the place and I think I may have been groaning at this point... I remember wondering what sort of zombie I must have appeared to the poor lady marshalling at the top.

Mrs S and I had recced the final mile the evening before, and I was grateful for this as we went into the final mile and I knew what to expect.  I pushed up the final hill as fast as I could, tried to hold it together on the final approach and fell to the ground at the finishing line. Mum and Dad were there, grinning and waving madly.

It was all a bit blurry after that. I had got the M50 prize and had to spend ages getting my photo taken with the mayor. I went to find my bag with food and dry clothes to be told that the bus with them bags ahead broken down.  I waddled back to the finish area and sat on the ground next to Mum and Dad (luckily I was able to find chairs for them) shivering in a foil blanket.  I looked at my phone and it dawned on me that Mrs S was nearly home. By the time I had mobilised the oldies and we were headed for the vantage point I heard her name being called out, and she was over the line, absolutely thrilled with the race and being able to complete it despite prior knee concerns.

With the support crew

My final score was 3:15:03, 6th place, after Matt and Neil respectively. A glorious race but it had been really tough and I felt beaten up for the rest of the day. A day to remember, for sure.