So this was an interesting one, in quite a lot of ways. The basic premise is a 50km Ultra, split down into 10 'circles', themed loosely on Dante's Inferno. Starting from 9am, run a 5km trail loop with a touch over 100m of ascent/descent, on the hour, every hour, for 10 hours. You can miss a lap by choice or if you are over the time for a lap, but if you do so you can't run the final 'Centre of Hell' lap, which unlike the previous nine, is an actual race (at least if you want it to be). Steve had spotted the event online, and sent me a the entry link in early February with a message saying "Fancy a laugh?" I decided that I did, so we both put entries in. Unfortunately, 6 weeks later he sent me a picture from a foreign hospital of his leg in a splint/moon boot, which meant I was probably flying this one solo...
I'm never going to be one to say that I'm now a pro and Ultras come easy, but I wasn't overly nervous about this one - and I probably looked over-prepared in some ways. The format meant that sitting a lap out (but still covering a respectable 40km though the day) was a viable option, the main intention was to see where my fitness and pacing was at this point in the year, and the only real aim was to hopefully complete all ten laps. The heat forecast over the weekend meant it was definitely going to be an inferno of some sort, so priority one was to stay the right way up, look after myself, and make sure I was in a fit state to keep moving, rather than wobbling around dehydrated and punch-drunk. Been there, done that, got the T-shirt and didn't particularly enjoy it, thanks very much: Would not recommend as a race strategy.
Fortunately, in the mustering area at the start you could lay out a small 'pit' with kit for between laps, food, drink etc, and you could have support crews there if you could find anyone daft enough to spend 10hrs alternating between 'feeding you' and 'waiting to feed you'. I'd set mine up with a camping table and chair, coolbox full of bottles of electrolyte, water carrier and a few varied bits of food - either stuff to eat between laps or grab bags I could shove into a running belt/bag to nibble on trail if I didn't have much downtime. Add in spare shoes, a few other tops/Buffs/hats and my headphones just in case, and I was pretty set to go.
After a quick briefing at 8:30am, we started the first lap at dead-on 9:00, headed out clockwise, with a bit of excitement and maybe a bit of trepidation since it was already pretty damn warm. The course was good, some steep descents and climbs interspersed with flatter sections of forest road, one lovely winding singletrack section through the trees and over roots and planting lanes that demanded a little bit of concentration, and some grassy sections where ruts had baked hard so tweaking an ankle was a risk. I took things steady and opted for a pace I felt like I could maintain all day, set some points around the steeper sections of "I start walking here, then I start running again there" and fixed those markers in my head - that would come in useful later in the day. A leisurely 41:29 lap later and I was back to base, with enough time to eat, drink, stretch, nip to the loo etc. No major stress.
Soon enough, we were lining up for lap two to start, and I was headed for the same strategy again: take things steady, set those marker points, chat to people and just generally enjoy the day, then use the minor interlude between laps to do the necessary bits of maintenance. Anticlockwise this time had a little bit different feel - the lowest point of the course was offset - 2km into the clockwise lap, 3km into that anticlockwise, so this way round gave a longer, more runnable descent but shorter, steeper climbs. Strangely enough, I rolled in in a very similar time - 41:14 - and feeling happy enough, so I was hopefully setting up for a nice, steady consistent day. I was determined not to dwell on my watch and just to run/walk by feel and by those markers, so while I did glance at my wrist a few times, it was curiosity and amusement rather than run-by-numbers.
I won't recap every single lap, but there were a few little moments of joy in each lap, and at no point did it ever really feel like a death-march to La-La Land, like Ultras can do sometimes. My laps times were superbly consistent throughout that day (as you should see from the pic on the left) and the run-rest-run-rest formatting meant I never felt properly dire, though my notes had a few comments that are worth flagging:
Lap 3 - "Open space ahead of you does not mean you have to accelerate into it" - said, I think, by one of last year's competitors. Only the last lap is a 'race' on here, there's no prizes for fastest on lap 2, 3, 4 etc, so just going at your own pace is fine. The guy in the pit next to me was running 30-35min laps perfectly happily all day,. 41-something seemed to suit me just fine!
Lap 5 - "Burpy, maybe too much liquid between laps" - I was understandably wary of giving myself stomach problems, but giving myself wind by necking my drinks too fast probably didn't help. I'd had a double espresso and a bottle of apple juice, plus some electrolyte. Maybe a bit too much
Lap 7 - "Starting to feel it - no surprise - bit of fatigue around hips" - I've spent a couple of months trying to get a hip flexor injury sorted out, and desperately didn't want it to creep back in - I've been unusually regimented about stretching and doing strength work. Fortunately, bar a couple of very small twinges nothing ever came of it, and this was just the cumulative effects of 35km of running.
Lap 8 - "Would be bargaining with myself if I hadn't set those non-negotiables" - One of those laps where mental conversation could easily have gone
"Well, if I just walk another 10 paces here it won't matter and I'll run the next bit a bit quicker instead..." Except I wouldn't. Those fixed points kept things honest, even though bits of me were starting to hurt. Despite all of that, I was pretty soon at the end of lap 8 and into the final couple of furlongs. I took off the calf guards and changed into my road shoes, since everything was baked hard and the extra squish and cushioning of the Hokas would be a fairly welcome change.
Lap 9 came and went and the first lady home got to choose the final lap direction - anticlockwise, so we got the longer descent and steeper climb. No worries either way, again I was still just going to trot steadily, and the changes of direction had made no difference at all to my lap times. I ran the first half of that lap with a lad called Chris who I'd chatted to a few times through the day, and through the rooty, twisty section it was the best I'd run it all day - just really flowy despite the choppy surface. Not quite a 'runner's high' but that feeling like my feet knew where they wanted to be without me thinking about it too much, which was great 46-odd km into a run. Chris dropped me towards the end of the descent, but more steady, happy running saw me in not far behind him at the finish line, and he came over to say well done, which was cool.
So yeah, all in all, a really interesting way to run an Ultra. Probably a great way to run a 'safe' first Ultra, ticking off the laps one-by-one. For me, a nice tester of the legs and the head at this point in the season, and a really lovely way to do it, with a really pleasant atmosphere and good camaraderie through the whole thing, plus as an interesting fundraiser for Scarborough & Ryedale MRT it should hopefully have chucked some pennies in the bank for a good cause. I've never needed their assistance yet but play in their patch pretty regularly, so this one might even be something I might possibly do again in future.
Cheers!
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