Monday 11 July 2022

St Cuthberts Way Ultra (By Martin Holt)





 This race has been my running obsession for the past 2.5 years. In 2020 I had trained for it but the race was cancelled due to covid, last year I half trained for it before getting injured, but this year the race was on and training had gone to plan. 3rd time lucky! Over those 2.5 years I had spent many days doing recces, and latterly had been doing a weekly training run on the course with Paul Nichol. Every twist and turn of the route had been memorised and every Storm Arwen obstruction had an optimal route round it. I'd run most sections several times and the opening 20 miles at night as part of the prep. I was prepared for anything...well almost...


With the race scheduled to start at 00:30 on Saturday morning I decided to skip the race bus leaving Wooler (the event base) at 11pm and try and get some kip at a hotel in Melrose near the start. This, I figured, would enable me to trick my body into thinking it was just an early morning rather than a whole night without sleep. Well, that was the plan. Having decided to get a cheap hotel (as I was only there for a few hours) I realised on check-in that I was in what Trip Advisor described at the 6th best hotel "in all of Melrose" (apparently there is a seventh) but I wouldn't recommend it. Whilst the bed was comfortable, the slopping floor meant my head was below my feet and this coupled with the wafer-thin curtains thwarted any attempts at sleep. At 11pm I got up and had some porridge before heading out just after midnight to walk down to the start.


Prepared for anything? I'd gone over everything in my mind so many times, but what I had never considered was the prospect of the race starting 13 minutes early! The race buses had arrived promptly and so the organisers decided to just get on with it - much to the surprise of those who were making their own way there. I arrived at the start area to hear "...that's everything, so we'll go after 5, 5-4-3-2-1 go" Panic! The race had started. Thankfully one of the first faces I saw was Paul, we ascertained we had both been in the start area OK, there were no timing mats as we were being GPS tracked and we were good to go - even if my shoelaces weren't tied properly, my mobile phone was stuffed in a pocket & I hadn't got my rear red light on. We wished each other luck & cracked on. I was particularly concerned about a stile less than 1km into the route. With some 280 entrants spread across the 100km and 45m races, less some 20 say in the "elite" wave 2 start plus the inevitable DNSs, I figured there could be 200 people in the queue for that first stile and I was keen to be near the front. We set off briskly up the road and it quickly became apparent that not everyone knew where they were going, so I was the first to turn off the road and onto the Eildon hill path.



Stile safely negotiated we continued to climb, and I reached the high point still at the front. I remembered a training run at night when I was on the Eildons at 3.30am, pitch dark and feeling a real sense of peace. I chuckled to myself at once again being up here at night, doing my first 100k and like a real novice being at the front. Madness! I decide to crack on, the route down is fiddly and with storm damage the route is less than obvious. I am joined by a chap called Jonny. We get talking. He's in the 45m race to Wooler and has aspirations of doing it 8hrs. Mindful that this is an insane time, my next question is "Have you done many ultras?". "Just the one" he replies before going on to add "I did win it but it was just a local 50km race on Skye over the hills". I've lived in Scotland long enough to know that Scotland has many hills, but Skye? No, Skye has mountains. With his credentials firmly established I knew I needed to run slower than Jonny and by the time we hit the road at Newton St Boswells, I use 'tying my shoelaces properly' as an excuse to let him crack on. The trail from St Boswells to Jedfoot was largely uneventful, save for an emerging red sky in the east. A couple of other runners pass me, but they tell me they are doing the 45m race. [NB Jonny does indeed win the 45m race in 8:15]


The first major checkpoint with a bag drop is Morebattle after 25.5 miles. Chance for a spot of "breakfast" and a change of t-shirt. I'm about to leave when one of the race marshals tells me I am leading the 100km and that second place is a mile behind. "This shouldn't be happening" I tell him. He tells me that it is and I should enjoy it!


So I set off into the middle section of the race Morebattle to Wooler. Whilst there are three big climbs here [Wide Open Hill, the Border Crossing and up onto Wooler Common] I have set this out in my mind as something of a "recovery section" - power walking up the hills & only running the downhill and flat sections. The summit of Wide Open Hill is a beautiful place to be especially first thing in the morning. There is no one else around and it feels just like a training run. I plod on contentedly. Through Kirk Yetholm and up to the Border. I reach the Border a few seconds under the 7 hour mark, and start the descent into England. Glad that the tougher ground and the night are firmly behind - still chuckling in disbelief.


At this point I should flag that some 20 or so of the quicker athletes, who are confident of sub-12 hour times have opted to start 4 hours later, this being done to enable safe crossing of the tidal causeway on to Holy Island. My family, just awakening are oblivious to this nuance and check the tracker - presumably with a passing interest in establishing that I am still alive. To their absolute amazement I am exceeding these lowly expectations by, in their eyes, leading the whole race. Thankfully my phone was in "do not disturb" mode as one WhatsApp group had over 100 messages by way of running commentary on my progress over the balance of the race.


At Wooler, I still held the "lead" but was conscious of the need to take on fluids, as I did this the chap in second place came in. Although my friends and family knew he was in MV40 (from the tracking app), the first 45 miles must have aged him because I convinced myself he must be MV50. I headed out, quickening the pace. 5 miles after Wooler is East Horton where a postman wishes me "Good Morning" - I am about to correct him, but it IS still morning even if it does feel like bedtime. As I near St Cuthbert's Cave the guy in second place has closed to within 200m. I'd stopped for more fluids and he really closed the gap. He looked to be moving wearily though so I made a point of pushing on in a quest to protect what I thought was a race for MV50. After St Cuthbert's Cave, cresting the next hill gives a first view of Holy Island. I told myself I simply couldn't lead the race to within sight of the finish and then blow it.


I figured the next mile was key. There is bad storm damage in Detchant Wood and I had recently done a recce specifically to work out optimal routes round each of the obstructed sections. To cash in on this investment I needed to be out of sight of the guy in second. This ploy works and by the time I hit the final checkpoint at the A1, the spectators, tracking on the app, tell me I am back out to a mile lead. 7 miles to go and 1 mile lead. I still can't quite believe it. I know there could be MV50 runners in the second wave, but now the possibility of being the first runner on Holy Island feels like a prize in itself. Just 7 miles and it is getting mighty warm. I break it down, first to the railway line, then it's just over a mile to the road and on to the causeway. I recall reading some race briefing about, when you get to the causeway refuge you 'just' have a Park Run left to do. I focus on that, and then getting to the island end of the causeway. A glance back down the causeway. No runners. So, 2.5 miles to go, minimum 1 mile lead. The next 2 miles were tough, just plodding away focussed on getting to the edge of the village, where I guessed there would be a few spectators. Sure enough it was a great moment being the first to reach the village - applause and cheers especially from those who had been tracking progress on the app, then round the corner to Crossman Hall and the finish. 103km in 13:47:43. Whilst there were MV50 competitors in wave 2, my time was sufficient to win the oldies race and take just over an hour off the MV50 course record from last year.


Can't quite believe it - am convinced I am about to wake up in Melrose's 6th best hotel, having overslept and had a pleasant dream!


A big shout out to Paul Nichol who has been my training buddy for many days on the route. Thwarted by a niggling injury he decided to go for it, but despite running (all but a stone's throw of) a marathon at night over the hills, ultimately that injury scuppered his run. To most, running a trail marathon at night would be cause for congratulations but for the ultra-runner not achieving the ultimate goal, those are empty words. In any event Paul, your camaraderie, as always, has been a highlight of the past 2.5 years of training - thank you!


For anyone tempted to give 100k a bash, it really is a cracking race and I would thoroughly recommend for the adventure. The next time round will be in July 2023.  












No comments: