I knew my dad would appreciate this section, the heritage of the canal with the railway tucked alongside & crossing overhead, the bridge over the North Circular (another mental milestone for me). Finally we turned the corner to climb the steepest tallest bridge on the entire route, going up was a pain, but a doodle compared to trying to control my descent.
Here are my crew and were a couple of miles from the finish. Feeling pretty emotional by now they asked if I wanted someone to walk with me and I elected to walk with Lisa, my wife, setting off down the towpath hand in hand.
Recognising landmarks which meant the finish was getting closer, I was determined and focussed but still had to fight back tears.
The finish finally came into view, Lisa threatened me with extreme violence if I dared to run off and leave her!
Approaching the finish I just didn’t know what to do with myself, I had no idea of the time but I knew it was a lot better than last year. Grinning like a sleep deprived moron and with tears streaming down my face I finally crossed the line after 37hours and 14minutes.
I perched on the picnic bench and was surrounded by race crew, my crew, my parents and others asking me questions and thrusting things at me. I totally couldn’t cope with this and took on the coffee. Did I need something warmer? Did I want someone to walk with me? I almost lost it at this point and said “I don’t know, just tell me”. I was duly issued with another fleece and send off down the canal with my dad for company knowing less than a half marathon to go.
We strode off, chatting and I was quite pleased for the company but I felt like we were going slow. It was frustrating as I really didn’t feel I could pick up the pace now but just wanted to get it over. At the checkpoint before I left I saw Jess who was crewing for Pete, I hadn’t seen her for the best part of 100miles which meant Pete was closing down on me. I suggested she might like to waylay him as much as possible but mentally wiped off another place.
My crew were now keeping a close eye on me and we met every 2 or 3 miles, even that seemed an interminably long interval and each time I stopped I was mentally exhausted, still just wanting the end.
GUCR 07 - Downhill all the way to Harnboroguh Tavern
(ed_m, July 8)
The running continued to go well for the next 5 miles or so until somewhere in West Watford. I met my crew sheltering under a bridge with some more soup & bread which I ate whilst I was there, watching the rain getting heavier out on the towpath. Just before I set off they offered me a giant chocolate cookie they’d acquired at a petrol station, unusually for me I fancied it and it went down really well! Off into the pouring rain my run/walk strategy changed to running between trees and walking under them to appreciate the shelter they provided.
I crossed the canal at a familiar bridge and the towpath for the next couple of miles was not only unrunnable but also under a continuous 2 or 3 inches of water. I had no choice but to squelch through it, soaking my feet for the umpteenth time and making me thoroughly miserable.
Once the towpath improved I was mentally in a pretty poor way, the soles of my feet were a continuous searing pain, despite being infinitely better than they had been last year. I knew however from the checkpoint sheets that I was doing ok in reality, just at this point I couldn’t quite grasp it.
I walked on as best I could resigned to walk to the finish, watching my 36hr target drift away and just hoping I could get under 40.
My parents had arrived to see me and when I saw them waiting for me I tried to look a bit less miserable. Since I was walking now I swapped to a warmer waterproof from the crew and after a brief pause set off again.
Over the next section I couldn’t stop myself yawning every 10seconds and knew my walking was getting slower and slower. Looking over my shoulder at one point I saw a runner and was soon passed. For some reason I was absolutely distraught at losing this and despite giving myself a good talking to was ready to sit down and cry. I didn’t, and kept telling myself I was doing fine.
Another crew stop, not much more to say than keep going by this stage. It was still light which meant things were still going well compared to last year. The next meeting point was the final checkpoint at 12miles to go, I walked on.
The checkpoint never seemed to arrive despite my greatest efforts, I lost another place with a long sigh. Finally the turn onto the Paddington arm arrived and I was within a mile of the checkpoint, bizarrely I had to fight my way through a film crew, actors. make-up and assorted security at this stage. After an eternity on this long straight stretch I was at the checkpoint.
After an hour or so out on my own I was met by Richard who was running out from the 120mile mark to meet me. After an initial chat I described my current run/walk regime to him and he told me Lisa wanted me back to 5mph, something I couldn’t conceive of.
Richard got on with the task in hand of dragging me along as well as possible and having had some ultra experience he clearly knew that by this stage I just needed to be told what to do. So he would tell me we’re going to run to a certain point, and then give a 2minute walking break and repeat, I knew better than to argue and it felt great to be moving along so well.
His encouragement and congratulations after each running stint, whether genuine or not did sink in, despite initially bouncing off me, and I was feeling more and more positive all the time. By now I had no idea how I was doing compared to my schedule and assumed Lisa not telling me was a bad sign, Richard did give me a few time checks which my mental arithmetic told me things were still going ok.
The 10 or 12 miles through to the Springwell Lock checkpoint at 120miles took in a couple of problem patches for me. A blister on my left foot became cripplingly painful for a few minutes, and a little later a stitch was causing some trouble, both fairly minor in the normal run of things but would have been enough to probably defeat me completely in my mentally distressed state. Richard however would have none of it and whilst allowing me an extra break or two got me moving again as soon as possible. The stitch did pass and the pain from the blister eventually eased.
In to the Springwell lock checkpoint I was still very positive, with feedback from Richard telling me the last mile had passed in just 11minutes. I remember being pleased to get out of the rain, getting some food and drink in me and checking how the people ahead of me were getting on.
Richard was kind enough to take me through the diversion which followed, it was quite short and straightforward but still better than trying to follow it myself. With some final encouragement he sent me on my merry way with less than a marathon to go. Spirits were still high despite the continuing rain.
I struggle along this next section to get going, I’m focussed on getting to Berkhamstead where I know my crew will be waiting but of course it takes forever to come. I get a call from Lisa telling me they are there and set up, finally we find them.
Rachel is there as well to pick Steve up, I manage to completely ignore this and slip as scheduled into the support car, take my shoes off and pull my hat over my eyes for 10minutes much needed kip. I’m not sure if I really sleep, I’m aware of the light and sounds around me but it still provides a refreshing break for tired eyes. I’m awoken by a coffee and a bacon sandwich (something Steve will tell you I’d been fantasising about for the last 10miles!).
My complacency doesn’t last long however as Lisa tells me I need to get moving within another 5minutes. I dry my feet & change my shoes and set off with my sandwich, leaving half my coffee. A quick photo stop and I stagger over the bridge and on my way.
I see Alicja a little ahead of me, walking, she beckons to me but I have no intention of running to catch her! Eventually I do and we have a chat, walking together for a little while. She had stomach trouble and couldn’t keep anything down, I’m sure the chat was doing her good, but I felt pretty strong and wanted to make progress whilst I could, fortunately she took a toilet break so I excused myself and tried a little running.
The running went surprisingly well and I felt confident that my pace must have been 4mph or better when running. I was setting myself goals I could see to run to, be it the next lock, a bridge or a boat before taking a walking break. Where possible I was counting my paces in 50s and allowing myself only to stop running at the end of a 50 or to force myself to start running after only 50 walking paces. This way if I didn’t feel recovered enough to run, or if I felt good to push on I had an immediate goal.
Just 3 miles later at Soulbury Three Locks we met up with Steve who was to run with me through the rest of the night. They swapped the head torch for the car keys, Rachel having finished her longest (and possibly slowest!) run to date and off for a well deserved kip.
Steve and I set off up the locks, somehow getting stuck alongside the top one when we should have been crossing the bridge beyond, not wanting to go back we carefully crossed the lock gate which felt precarious at best after 87miles!
We settled into some kind of run/walk rhythm but I couldn’t tell you what it was! Passing through Leighton Buzzard and a handful of support crews in Tesco car park, once again I remember the location in the light last year, it’s still dark, a sign things are going well. On the way out of town there’s a mist over the canal from the rain hitting it, a gentle breeze slides it across the canal where it lifts over the edge onto the towpath and over a canal boat moored up, forming surreal eddies in our torchlight.
Along to the locks at Slapton where we found a Scotsman laying on the floor, he was on the phone and acknowledged us positively so we carried on. For a good 7 or 8 miles off this next section the towpath is grassy with an uneven muddy rut, this may have been runnable in the daylight and with fresh legs but being wet and dark we settled for as fast a walk as we could muster. Still a better pace than I’d have been able to muster on my own.
Light slowly creeps into the sky, and soon the torches are off. At one point I’m sure it even stopped raining for a moment, it soon started again which was when I realised I’ve been completely unaware of the rain for hours. The towpath improves toward Marsworth, I recognise the turn and the bridges and know that checkpoint 7 at a tantalising 99.8miles is just a few steps away. Inevitably it takes longer to come than I expect, but we’re there, a significant psychological milestone and a personal best to get there comfortable under 24hrs.
We both take on some coffee & lovely chocolate cake, Alicja is tucked with her feet up in a corner of the tent being tended to. The fact I’ve caught her at all implies she’s had a bad race so far, and her look backs that up. A quick detour up to the pub to use their toilet and we’re on our way.
And so we set off from Navigation Bridge to tackle the stint through Milton Keynes, headtorches at the ready but fortunately not yet needed. Rachel did a good job of keeping my pace up when I was running, and my spirits when I wasn’t. As instructed by my crew she regularly tried to get some food down me, from mars bars to power bars I get the impression it was a little like pulling teeth at times.
I remember Milton Keynes last year being an extremely depressing place, in the dark, you’re almost always below street level so there’s nothing to see except a dozen extra bridges but with Rachel rabbiting on and the reflective tabs on her heels mesmerising me it passed much quicker. I went through a low point approaching Peartree Bridge where I had dropped to a walk, fortunately the crew were awaiting our arrival and had soup at the ready and a warmer hat since the temperature was now dropping quickly.
Re-energised we made good progress through to the next checkpoint at Fenny Stratford (84.5miles), catching and passing a runner and buddy along the way. The checkpoint wouldn’t seem to arrive but finally did, we only hung around here long enough for me to manage half my coffee and be tempted by a cheese sandwich.
Once again I find I can’t remember much about the next section, apart from my feet getting wetter and wetter. I knew this would mean the death of my feet so on meeting my crew at the start of the road section on top of Blissworth tunnel; a fresh pair of shoes & socks and a good drying and talking of the feet. This was my scheduled dinner stop so I set off walking up the road with a cup of soup and some bread. The warm soup was a hit, warming and delicious. Again I tried to keep the pace down for while to let things settle but again couldn’t hold myself back for too long.
With my hands full with bread and soup I had left the maps with my crew, figuring I’d remember the route well enough. This proved not to be the case so I had to phone the crew to check where to cross. I saw them again briefly just after Stoke Bruerne to push myself the remaining 5 miles to Navigation Bridge.
At Navigation Bridge it was still light, I was ecstatic and little to my knowledge a good hour ahead of plan. I was met by my crew where we retired to some shelter in the pub car park, my feet were soaked through again already so I repeated the drying and new socks routine this time with some waterproof socks to avoid any repeats through the night. From this point on you are allowed a buddy runner and I was joined by Rachel & Steve who were due to take me through the night.
I was much later last year but going through the night can be a psychologically as well as physically dark place on your own, so I was glad to have the company, even if we ended up walking much of it.
The next checkpoint is the Heart of England at 53miles, this takes in the grassy section along to Braunston before climbing over the tunnel and along to Norton junction. Along this section I ended up running with a few others and was quite grateful for the company, we variously slowed or stopped and met with crew but were never far apart through to the New Inn at Norton junction.
I met my crew here and got my bumbag & bottle restocked as well as grabbing a smoothie to take along with me. Whilst this was happening I spotted my father-in-law’s beer which was somehow irresistible, so I cheekily had a couple of sips, possibly the best thing I’d tasted all day! The day was wearing on now and it had been raining gently for a while, so I also took this opportunity to swap to a long sleeved base layer.
Back out on my own again through to the checkpoint with nothing much to note except one of my work colleagues and his kids coming to visit and check out some canal boats, a friendly face is welcome at any stage of the race even if you can’t stop for long to chat.
I really can’t remember the checkpoint but left still focussed and knowing the next milestone was checkpoint five at Navigation Bridge. This is the 70mile mark and the first official cut off, marking the start of the night stage through Milton Keynes and beyond. I remember getting there in the dark last year but so far things were looking good to at least get there in the twilight.
The next leg takes me to Birdingbury at 35.9miles, taking in Warwick, Leamington Spa and a number more lock flights. I can’t really recall a great deal about this section aside from it was getting rather warm and having to yell at my crew who were still milling about with the car and clearly not expecting me! I felt like I was still going fairly strong and enjoyed the discipline of walking up the inclines at the lock flights and then running between them, the distances between locks varies so it helps ease the monotony a little.
At Birdingbury it is lunch time, I took some squash just to get a bit of a different flavour to the energy drink and water I’d has so far and my crew brought me my corned beef hash. This meal had worked well for me last year, satisfying the usual savoury cravings and being stuffed with carbohydrates. This time however the warmer weather meant I really struggled to get it down, I forced myself but really had to pace myself in doing so.
After meal breaks I had planned only 3miles in the next hour to allow me to walk if necessary and let the food settle. I did this for as long as I could manage but even my walking pace was more than 3mph so I allowed myself some more easy running, might as well make some progress whilst I can.
Such an event really requires a strategy thought out in advance, especially with the logistics involved in meeting crews and refuelling. The problem is of course over this distance it’s hard to know what is feasible even if everything goes well.
My A schedule had me finishing in 36hours. When you consider this was similar to last years plan (eventual finishing time 44hrs28) or that depending on the year this would range from 2nd or 3rd position through to mid field you can see how difficult it is to judge things.
The canal winds its way out of Birmingham past the urban redevelopment of swanky bars, clubs & apartments. It takes a little over 12miles to get to the first checkpoint at Catherine-de-Barnes during this time the atmosphere amongst runners has been relaxed and I’ve chatted to several new and old faces along the way. Having managed to get some drink on and take on a gel and energy bar I top up my supplies and keep moving.
After this the canal passes under the M42 and moves into the countryside on the way to the Hatton checkpoint at 22miles. More friendly banter with the occasional runner and crew, it’s amazing how quickly the runners spread out and the varying paces and strategies mean you never stay together too long without a concerted effort. Having missed a couple of planned walk breaks in the first section I was able to be more disciplined on this section, trying to save my legs for as long as possible. Even so I was ahead of plan already.
So it was, again, I found myself rolling out of bed at the crack of dawn and getting a lift into the middle of Birmingham for a 6am start. Broad street’s is absent of it’s vibrant night at that time of day, only as you turn in to Gas street do you find the busy hum of crews, runners and marshals loading/unloading support vehicles, preparing feet and thereafter generally milling about nervously.
My nerves meant that I hadn’t been able to force myself to eat anything before the start, I don’t think I even drank much either but knowing the duration of the even I wasn’t too concerned. As any observer will tell you the start of most ultra races is rather low key as no one is in a hurry to shuffle off in the lead, this morning was no exception with the main discussion amongst the runners was ensuring someone who knew where they were going went first.
The Grand Union Canal Race is an epic annual event on the UK ultrarunning calendar. At 145 miles it claims the title of longest continuous foot race in the UK and takes competitors on a journey from central Birmingham to central London along the canal towpath within the race’s 45 hour time limit.
Having completed the race last year, albeit just inside the cut off, I was never really mentally able to relive the process in order to complete a race report. Coming back for the second time in 2007 we had the benefit of last year’s experience in building a plan for the big day.
aha.. pleased to see my little blog shaped refuge from the world is still here and active.
last weekend was my silly long race (again) and this year i'm determined to get a race report done, however just writing it seems to be a feat of endurance in itself so i thought i'd use the blog to publish sections in sequence. this way i can get comments as i go, and go back and edit things as and when.
the resulting report will be compiled with some photos for use on my ultrarunner.co.uk website.
of running and stuff 
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