I went for a run on Tuesday. It’s a run I’ve been thinking about for years, since it was mentioned to me by one of the strongest runners around. It’s a run I could only attempt at the end of a triathlon season because of the interruption in training and the risk of doing myself a mischief. Each year I’ve had a problem and have been unable to attempt it: calf tears, Achilles tendon issues, a fractured clavicle. This year I looked at the calendar and worked out a window when the tides would be right, I wouldn’t be racing, there would be enough daylight hours and what not. When that window approached the weather for Tuesday was perfect. Bizarre even, for October. A foggy start, little wind (and unusually from the east too), sun and light clouds all day. Oh bugger. It was unlikely that I’d get an opportunity like that again so I had to go for it.
What was the run? I live on the corner of the Gower peninsula, a Site of Special Scientific Interest with many National Trust bits, the new Wales Coastal Path and lots of prettiness. It’s world famous and parts of it are so well photographed that they figure in top 10 world lists. We spend a lot of time on it, running, cycling, swimming, walking, rock pooling, sand castling (that’s bound to be a verb), drinking coffee, body boarding, more coffee. We used to come here on holiday before we lived here to go rock climbing. The run is a run around the Gower. I guess you can start where you like (I started at my house) and you run around staying as wide as you can. Ish. Much of the running is on the coastal path, there are huge beaches to run along, and a lighthouse at Whitford Point to run around that you can only get to at low tide. And you have to get it right, because if you have to race the tide there you’ll lose. It’s too flat and too stony, so the tide moves fast and you move slow. Fun, eh? The route is a little variable but around 85km long. And hilly.
So I set off a little after 7am, giving me 3 hours to get to the Whitford Point lighthouse at low tide. It was a cool, foggy start, and I carried a rucksack with water, food and cash for some cokes along the way. In October fewer places are open, but I hoped to get a little sugary water and the day turned out to be hotter than expected.
How did it go? Bloody hell it was hard. I was very happy to get to the lighthouse, and see that I could get there with the low tide. The beaches have never felt as long as they did that day. It’s a weird distance or time dilation effect, running across a beach to the horizon on tired legs. I was very tired and sore by 3 hours, and then I ran for another 10 hours. Nuts. I really could have quit at Rhossili, and I think that was less than 30km. Ultra running is a very interesting mental challenge, as much as physical. Very interesting. I went through good periods and bad. I walked the uphills as advised. The sand dunes killed me in the end, and they pop up at many points on the way round. I underestimated the stretch between Rhossili and Port Eynon I terms of terrain, I think. But I felt better when I got to the halfway point; you can start counting down the km to your goal. With each beach I felt closer to civilisation and was able to get some coke at Port Eynon and Caswell. Eating and getting some sugar in really helped.
Stopping running to walk uphill spoiled my rhythm. When walking it was hard to get the legs running again, but when they were running I felt better. Weird. As time went on it got harder and harder to get going again. Towards the end I was probably making little involuntary noises when I lurched forward. Every 10km brought a smile. The weather was amazing, the views were incredible. The sea was flat calm and as blue as the sky. I ran out of sun just before I got to the Mumbles, and from there on the paths were good and the running was easy. I couldn’t keep up with the evening joggers on the cyclepath for love nor money. The muscles in my legs had tightend and shortened, giving me a nice old man shuffle, and the pitch black finish up the Blackpill cycle path through the woods to Dunvant and Gowerton went on for ever with just the hazy faint blue light of my LED headtorch. I stepped in invisible heaps of horse crap twice.
I was amazed by how supportive my family was of me doing this stupid, self-indulgent thing. Kim, Jack and Annabel were all really happy to see me and somewhat amazed by what I’d done. That was possibly the most surprising thing of the day for me. That, and how much the whole thing hurt.
Hey ho, what’s next? Check out the route data and photos below. Have a crack at it yourself if you fancy it.
