Pilgrim Challenge - Day 2

I awoke Sunday morning with the usual dead feeling in my legs after a restless night on a hard wooden floor following a 33 mile run. A little walk around started to restore some sort of feeling to my aching limbs. By the time I was dressed in my running kit the 7am group were already off on their way. Being in the “elite” group does allow the luxury of a very leisurely breakfast.

Talk over breakfast mostly centred around the complete lack of enthusiasm for the day ahead. I wasn’t looking forward to another 33 miles of mud, and neither were many others. Still, I couldn’t think of any good reason not to give it a go. I had two simple aims; not to fall over in the mud, and to make it to the finish line.

The time between the mass start of 8am runners and my 9am group always seems to drag. All I could do was drink another cup of tea and pack my bag. When it was time to start running it was quite noticeable that everyone held themselves back just a little, with the possible exception of the top three runners. The first 4 miles were all up hill. If I were running this section with fresh legs I would have run the whole way up, but I wasn’t, so I slowed to a walk on the steeper sections. I wanted to run at a more consistent pace than yesterday, and this meant being more conservative at the start.

After a few miles it became apparent that the ground had drained a heck of a lot over night. The transformation was amazing. It was almost as if someone had driven a machine over the route sucking up the water out of the ground. There were still the odd patch of sticky mud, which I was actually quite glad of. About 20 runners had joined us just for the Sunday run, and they had all heard us moan about the mud. At least they weren’t getting away Scot free, but they must have still thought that we were all a right bunch of exaggerating whingers.

Runners arriving at the second checkpoint.

The second checkpoint

To some extent the second day was a lot easier than the first. For a start, all the big hills came in the first half of the run, and the approaches from the east (the direction we were coming from) were not as steep as the approaches from the west. Despite this, and the fact that the ground conditions were much better, my average pace was a little slower than the previous day. I later learnt that this was something experienced by almost all runners, including the two leading men.

I spent most of the second day running by myself. It was nice to eventually catch up with people from the two earlier groups. Every now and again I slowed to exchange a few sentences with the people I passed. Mostly I was just saying hello and wishing them a good day, but it was nice to have small moments of chat with fellow competitors.

The only bit of drama to the day came on the edge of Guildford. Where we’d run through Shalford Park on the Saturday and encountered a small stream to run through, by Sunday the whole of the park was flooded. Robbie reached the park first and knowing the route well decided to wade across the field, which was chest deep in water. Danny decided not to follow and found his own way around the flood. By the time I had reached this section a couple of marshals had been put in place to direct the runners on a 1 mile detour. The detour didn’t mean maintaining dry feet, however. We were directed to a canal bridge and then had to run along a tow path for a few hundred metres. The water in the river was right at the lip of the tow path, the opposite bank was submerged under the floodwater. As we continued on the tow path we reached a section which too was submerged, so we had about 50m to cover in ankle deep water. Wet feet once again.

A short while later we were running through forest with patches of muddy puddles. I was amused by the number of runners who would try to run around the mud. As my feet were already drenched I just ploughed on through, taking the most direct line. Trying to zig-zag around puddles seemed a big waste of time and effort.

From about 8 miles to go I seemed to catch a lot of runners who had left in my start group. I was still running at a nice consistent pace, even if it was still slower than the previous day. It was reassuring to notice that others were flagging more than I was. One runner I passed seemed determined to try and stick with me. For a couple of miles I would pass him then he’d overtake me only for me to pass him again. This continued until just before the final checkpoint. I had a quick re-fill of my water bottle and headed off. I never saw the other runner again until he crossed the finish line about 7 minutes behind me.

About 7 to 8 miles from the finish.

Crossing the finish line.

At the finish I was drinking tea and eating cake when Neil, the organiser, announced he was going to do the male prize giving. Robbie Britton had won in a staggering 8 hours 8 minutes. Danny was second in 8 hours 47 minutes, and Joe was third in 9 hours 38 minutes. So there was quite a spread of times amongst the top three. To my amazement my name was also called out during the prize giving. I was first man over 40, which came as a great surprise. My time for the second day was 5 hours 47 minutes, which gave me an overall time of 11 hours 13 minutes, which was good enough for 13^th place overall out of 130 people who finished both days.

The top 3 men: Joe, Robbie & Danny

With my trophy for first man over 40