Lulworth CTS half, 2018

We've been to several races in Dorset this year in the pouring rain.  As we left the house this particular morning it was the same old story - wet and windy in the half-light.  The forecast was for improvement throughout the morning, but despite saying 'I think it's brightening up' a few times, it patently wasn't.

Last year we parked in a field right next to the start line; this year we tried to park on the roadside next to a hundred other cars but were ushered off to Durdle Door campsite where we spent a miserable few minutes queueing for the ticket machine while the rain whooshed around us, and getting changed out of wet clothes into soon-to-be wet running kit.

Heading to the start in less-than-glorious conditions

Down at the race HQ there was more queueing for the complicated registration process and a crowded briefing in a marquee, where we met Keith Morris.  At the start line I said goodbye to the lovely Mrs S (who was running the 10k) and met Matt Hammerton, the only runner I could see who was wearing a singlet.  By contrast, this was my first ever race wearing a windproof coat.  

With Keith at the race briefing

I'm wearing a waterproof in a race for the first time ever

The start to this race is a bit brutal, taking you immediately up a large hill.  Lungs complaining at the unreasonableness of this, I tried to get into a rhythm, but this initial section was all over the place, being either on a slope or horribly slippery or both.  Instead of following the cliff line as advertised, we took a diagonal section inland on a tricky camber.

After the first checkpoint I started catching the marathon runners, who had left an hour earlier on an extended initial loop.  Close to Lulworth I passed Alice and (dog) Jim, and soon enough was on new ground, heading east.

Up a hill and onto a ridge, where the trail was narrow and treacherously slippery.  Passing marathon runners and staying upright was a real challenge.  But the worse was yet to come.  Steep downward steps, with a steady sensible queue… sod that… I went off-piste and ran down the muddy grass, somehow staying upright, even as faster chaps tore past me.  Steep and slightly perilous, but at least it was soft beneath me and I didn't have the 'I think I may die here' feeling I had on the jagged rocks of Snowdon.  On a wet grassy section a guy with a dog on a lead rushed past and then went sprawling over in comically spectacular fashion.  'He pulled at the wrong moment and unbalanced me', he said with a grin, getting to his feet.

And then around the bend was a monstrous hill rising from the sea.  It just disappeared into the mist.  Into mountain mode I went, pushing hands down on to thighs and getting into a rhythm, occasionally passing others as I heaved uphill.

At the top was a ridge, with more muddy tracks, followed by a huge descent and another whopping climb… it all became a bit of a blur.  Downhill again, then a split separating the marathon and half-marathon runners; and a rare flat section of gravel track before emerging at the abandoned village of Tyneham.

This was mentally useful as I knew this was as far east as we went, so we were now on the homeward straight to Lulworth.  There was a steady climb out of Tyneham, and I resolved to keep running.  I passed a couple of walkers, including a fifty-something looking bloke (Lyndon Clayson) who called out 'blimey, you're keen' and pulled ahead of me as I reached the top.  Aye aye, I thought, this could be interesting.  More sliding around on a ridge at the top, where we closed a loop and started passing runners still on their outward section, adding to the dicey game of stay-on-your-feet-if-you-can. Soon after this I was staring down at the monstrous valley… down down down and then up up up… I was starting to get just a little bit weary of this game but was comforted by the thought that there wasn't far to go.

I pressed on as hard as I could, at this point ahead of Lyndon, imagining everyone around me being more exhausted.  Downhill once more into Lulworth where I could see the finish flags.  There was a road that led straight there, but as a final little sting we were directed away from the road and up a series of steep steps.  I felt done for, and could barely move my legs.  But then I was at the create and it was downhill on grass and then gravel to the finish line, Mrs S and Anna waving and shouting as I passed.

Pushing to the finish line

I finished in 2:30:07 in 5^th place and 1^st M50, which was terrific.  Here are my stats.  A super, tough old race on a really spectacular, full-on section of Dorset coastline.  The weather gave it an edge today, but next time please can we have a clear day so we can enjoy the view?

The long walk back to the car.  I'm not really smiling, just grimacing as I get progressively colder