I’d been looking for a short race, having decided, in true Spartan spirit, that my niggling injury wasn’t getting any worse and didn’t seem to get better even when rested for a couple of months. Time for a short test – after all “it’s only 9K” somebody had said.
As I was climbing to the top of the Wheel Stones, in the Peak District another runner passed by below, where'd he come from I wondered? Even though I find it hard to pass rock without climbing it, I still get envious when someone overtakes/gets ahead of me! It's not a race, I don't know where or how far he's come but all I know is I need to get off the top of this rock and catch him up.
By the time I get down and find my map, I'd left at the bottom I'm after him. It's not a race, I don't know where or how far he's come but all I know is I need to and catch him up.
Einstein said that the definition of insanity is doing the same things over and over again and expecting different results. He may not be on everybody's list of motivational gurus for runners, but for my second attempt at the Sandstone Trail Challenge, Al set the tone for my build up and approach to the event. Last year I didn't do enough long runs, drank too much water on the day and carried too much stuff. The result was cramp from about halfway and a time below what I felt capable of.
I am lying on my back on the forest floor. All that is missing is a circle of tweeting birds spinning above my head like a Loony Tunes cartoon. As I get back onto my feet, I look behind me for the first time in 5 hours, hoping not to see approaching hordes of runners, ready to speed past me so close to the finish.