Hampshire Hopppit half, 2021

It was four years since I last ran this race. But unlike the blistering heatwave of 2017, the weather was damp, calm and mild. Not the most beautiful day, but pretty ideal racing conditions.

A misty moisty morning

The lovely Mrs S was doing the full marathon, and we arrived in good time to get her going on her 0900 start. I was impressed by their very efficient staggered start process. A bit of bimbling about getting sorted very quickly filled up the next hour, and I found myself in the first wave of half marathon runners.

Mrs S at her starting station

A tale of two U-shapes

This race had quite an interesting profile; essentially downhill for the first half and uphill for much of the second before a sharp U-shaped profile for the final 5k. It had a competitive field; I found myself in fifth place quite early on, but I was overtaken several times on the course by runners who were indisputably faster than I. There was a lot of fun weaving and dodging on the narrow trail sections.

The hard work began from almost exactly 10k, when I came off the Harroway and took a sharp left, beginning the long uphill drag.There was no one in sight at this point, and I had to work hard to maintain the pace, first up a stretch of road, then along a track, and finally on the edge of a field. At this point I vaguely recognised my surroundings, and quite abruptly I crested the top of a hill and was skidaddling down a monstrously steep scarp slope, with marshals urging caution. There were rabbit holes everywhere (we were right next door to Watership Down).

I was rapidly gaining on George, the bloke in front. (We had our names printed on our race numbers, and the marshals on the hill were encouraging us by name). He was balding, and he could easily have been fiftysomething, which spurred me ahead. He pursued me through a twisty trail at the bottom of the hill, and as soon as we were on open ground he accelerated past me. We were in the 2017 finish field, where I was keeling over with heat exhaustion.

We continued through a flattish mixture of road and trail, with the big scarp slope looming to our right. There was less than a km to go as I hit the steep trail ascent. It was steep enough to warrant walking, but this felt a bit feeble so close to the finish, so I ended up walking then running then walking again on the steep sections.

The top of the hill arrived quite suddenly and it was a straightforward downhill dash to the line. There was a super atmosphere and a lot of cameraderie at the finish line. The results are just in - I finished in 13th overall place in 1:34:31, and was thrilled to be 1st M50. Here are my stats.

Mrs S came storming home from her marathon outing, her system having held up after a sub-optimal preparation and grinning all over. This is a really charming, efficient and altogether splendid race, and we'lll be back.

Cheers!

 

Pacing Ian's South Downs Way 100

 

Running a 100-mile race is, I hope you'll agree, quite ambitious. Running it in a heatwave takes this to a whole new level. But here we were at Chantry Post near Storrington on a hot afternoon, waiting for Ian (AKA Ralphy) to arrive. I had been nervous all week about the responsibility of accompanying Ian between roughly miles 50 to 70. Would I get the pace right? Could I keep afloat if he was struggling? And would my heel, which had been a bit grumbly and tender all week, hold up?

Not such a bad spot to hang out and wait

Ian had crossed at the starting line at Mattingley Bowl near Winchester at 04:45 and had been abliged to run the first 50 miles solo. We'd had reports that he'd needed a calf massage and was starting show early signs of fatigue. He arrived waving and smiling, but looking like he'd been working hard. He took a few strawberries from the back of the car and he and I set off together, initially at a walk. 

Pacing duty begins

 It didn't take long to settle into a rhythm; steady running, and walking on all but the gentlest hills. From Chantry Post it was a fairly short hop to the aid station at Washington, where I caught up with the lovely Mrs S and Abi.

With Abi at Washington aid station

From here climbed out of the valley up a long long hill and we were out in the exposed heat of the South Downs. Ian was struggling with nausea and his concentration wasn't good. We kept talking, but it was evident that he was having to work hard.

Water was a bit of an issue. I poured the remnants of a bottle over the back of Ian's head, but he was overheated and really wanting to cool down. With relentless open ground for a way ahead, I checked the map and planned to grab some water from the River Adur; but I realised this was a no-go when I stared down at steep muddy and contemplated the risk of becoming a liability by getting horribly stuck. We carried on, passing a drinking water trough. We pusahed like mad on the tap button, only to see a sign saying it was out of use. But soon afterwards we reached Botolphs aid station and the problem was solved.

Another long uphill trudge, and we were back on the ridge with a stunning faraway view of Brighton and Hove. Soldier on, keep going... Ian finding it harder to talk coherently and he was getting very low on energy and enthusiasm. I was feeling fine except for two technical problems; my water bladder was leaking sticky Tailwind all over my bottom, and my shorts were causing terrible thigh chaffing.

Brighton and the sea just visible

 

Ian is putting a brave face during his toughest phase

 

The hotel at Devils Dyke slowly loomed larger, and as we reached to top we could see Mrs S and Alice waving at us. Ian sat in the chair and managed to eat a couple of roast potato chunks and stawberries, while we tried to keep him focused and positive. But in truth it felt like he had a mountain to climb to get to Eastbourne in one piece.

 

At Devil's Dyke crew station, hanging in there

 

Over the next few minutes Ian was talking about the negativity which was crowding in on him and his diminishing enthusiasm. We arrived at Saddlescombe Farm aid station for a brief stop, and I pointed out a sign saying that we'd done 66.6 miles - two thirds down, one third to go.

This stop was a bit of a turning point. When we started moving again, we tried out some mental distractions, starting with listing countries of the world from A to Z and then boys' names ending in N. Then we moved on to quiz topics (Ian was frankly rubbish at naming 10 English rivers) and riddles. The next hour went by in a flash. The heat was starting to retreat, and Ian was looking a whole lot better. The Jack and Jill Clayton Windmills suddenly came into view and we were met a combination of Ian and Tam's crews.

Clayton Windmills, handing the baton over to Matt, and Ian has perked up nicely

 

30 miles to go, Ralphy

 And that was it for my stint. Matt and Ian set off into the evening light, and Mrs S and I headed home via some very welcome fish and chips in Shoreham. One way and another we seemed to spend much of the night watching Tam and Ian's respective location trackers and celebrating the moment when Ian and Matt crossed the finish line at about 03:15, very comfortably under his 24 hour target.

Here are my stats for the day. It had been a full-on day of anticipation, excitement and pride in being part of a team supporting Ian's magnificently gutsy effort. 100 miles in under a day in a heatwave... fantastic.

The last photo before sundown

 

Slightly spaced-out Centurion