The Langdale Experience

Twelve months ago I joined TAC and quickly got involved and entered into the spirit of things and competed at the Langdale Half Marathon. Watching the usual marathon men, Campbell, Brown, Hall, Haworth and Grant finish the race at the time, I promised myself I should do the full race next year.

Twelve months on, what a blooming stupid idea that was I thought at the start of September, as I stuck to my guns and applied for the full marathon on the back of a bottle of red! A familiar theme here with these longer runs and me!

I was massively behind on any proper marathon training and relied on a few longer runs mid September, and the most I had done was 15 miles! Thinking that this may get me by I then read Simon Lister's write up of the South Cheshire 20 where he stated "Don't wing a long race!" Realistically this was my plan, get past half way and hope that the atmosphere will get me through the next half! Would it work...

The week building up to the big day I have never been so nervous! This was unlike me! I had every runner's fear: cramp, legs stiffening, being unable to run, stuck out on the race course in the middle of nowhere with my legs in the air, just wishing I had done them few extra training miles. Was this the ideal preparation for running in Barry Brocks XC Revolution next week (first race at Leigh starts 2.30pm, more details here).

To top this all off, I had the added dilemma of having to erect a four person tent for me and my lad as I had been stood up by my wingman Wayne Macintosh, who preferred working to a night under the stars with yours truly! Charming! So filled with dread and feeling like a man going to the gallows, Will and I set off at 7.30 Saturday morning, my belly full of porridge and bananas and my mind filled with fear.

Arriving at the Langdale National Trust camp site at 9.30am, I was reassured by seeing some friendly faces of other TACs on Tour and before I could say groundsheet, my tent had been successfully put up by numerous willing participants! Many thanks to the Armstrongs and Liveseys, I think Will and I would have been sleeping in a car boot without your efforts.

Battle one won, all I had to do now was run 26 miles, surely a breeze having supervised putting the tent up. Making our way to the start, only half a mile from the campsite, the number of Humbugs about increased and it felt good to be around familiar faces as they all looked as apprehensive as me! Even those that had done the route before and knew what to expect were looking a bit daunted by what was to come.

Messrs Campbell and Brown doing the long haul and numerous others with more sense doing the half. Chris had prepared the night before at a beer festival and I could have done with a cheeky pint now to calm me down! Rocket Rod with his comedy Union Jack shorts even got a laugh or two out of the crowd who felt laughing was a way to release the nerves. With a delayed start to increase the tension, come 12.15 we were finally off.

The marathon route is two 13.1-mile laps and is often compared to the Hendon Brook, but I find it different in that this has two killer climbs at 2 and 8 miles, and then again obviously at 14 and 21, which alone are incredibly difficult to get up. Between these two points the ups and downs meander through stunning scenery and breathtaking backdrops. Hendon Brook has less severe climbs but there are more and seem to go on for ever!

Mile one was a casual run to the foot of the first hill. The trick was to avoid getting caught up with the half marathon runners as it is a mass start and the only difference is the colour of your numbers: red for full marathon, blue for the half. However you cannot see these from behind other runners and so you make the assumption that everyone is doing the full and you must keep up. Wrong! Mistake number one: thinking it was a one mile dash race!

Then the flatness of mile one ends abruptly and the hill shows itself in all its hellish glory with "Rocket Rod's 1-in-3" sign at the foot of it and then you hit it full on! I found that you had to keep a steady pace to get up it and try not to walk as it would be incredibly difficult to get going again. So that's what I did and plodded up, clapped on by the spectators, or were they ramblers waiting for us to pass by, I'm not sure.

I saw Lynne hid in the distance with her long lens pointing directly at me. Thinking that no one would look good being photographed at this point I didn't try and hide my bursting lungs! How did the others look so natural on these photos? I really need some lessons from Mr Lister in how to look cool in these things!

The summit soon came and then the rolling hills took over towards Little Langdale. The surrounding scenery around Elter Water is usually enough to keep your mind off the ups and downs but today they were engulfed in mist and clag. Thus the ups and downs were unable to be disguised and they began to take their toll.

At four miles out I saw a white and orange vest over my shoulder and looked round to be greeted by the grinning Roger Brewster! "Owdoo" I said, thinking I may be able to relax and chat with him for a few miles, he must have some stories about this race I thought. Pleasantries exchanged, it turned out he was running the half 'as a training run as I am still on the recovery trail'. However I noticed that the price I had to pay for chatting with Roger was to run at a speed above my intended pace and it wasn't until I had run a mile or two with him did I realise this. Mistake number two: using Roger Brewster as a pacemaker!

I didn't want to hold Roger up and told him to march on. I carried on and was happy to hear the Garmin beeping as the miles went by, though I was hoping Rocket Rod's Garmin Police were not on patrol in this area, I couldn't cope with being disqualified at the end because of that!

Eight miles in and you hit the second beast, the hill up to Loughrigg Tarn, a tough enough walk never mind run. However I adopted the same principle, the sooner you get to the top the quicker you can stretch your legs out and get rid of the lactic acid built up in your joints. I find this was the toughest part of the run as it steadily climbs for a couple of miles and you long for the pain of the descent as your thighs burn and legs all but buckle as the Tarmac descent feels like it is shattering your bones. You try to go slow but resistance is futile as all you can do is give in, pull your lips back over your teeth, show off your pearly whites and fly to the bottom with arms flailing about and eyeballs wide. Where's Lynne and her telescopic when you’re looking this good?!

Hitting the flat again I saw the water station in the distance, they are every 3 miles and stocked with cups of water and boxes of chocs and jelly sweets. (Chris Campbell takes a spare rucksack for filling here!) I had made the decision to stop at each station and take at least one cupful on board - I cannot run and drink cups of water, you never get it in your mouth and you end up coughing or hiccupping as the water goes down the wrong way (never did know what my mum meant by that phrase but everyone uses it!). This was working as I found the 10-15 second stop a good break and was ready to carry on without stiffening up.

With the halfway mark in sight I looked forward to the cheers from those waiting to cheer in the Half finishers and hoped this would spur me on. It was a bit deflating though as you get told to keep going and those with blue numbers filtered off into the finishers field. I thought it was part of the Anti-Red Revolution punishing those wearing red marathon numbers, but did not take it too personally as rejuvenated by the shouts of well wishes I saw Roger Brewster finish and what a sport, he carried on running to the main road and cheered me on! Top guy!

Having got this far without too much of an issue, I checked my time, about 1h 32m, a bit quicker than what I had planned but I still felt OK. Now all there was to do was to do it all again. How difficult can this be? Mistake number three: thinking this thought!

I wanted mile 13 to go on forever as mile 14 was the return of the hill. However the sight of a fell runner half way up stationary with a map opened up like a picnic blanket kept my mind occupied. Turns out he had got lost on the Three Shires race and was miles off course! I reckon he had got directions off Dean Ralphson...

And so the rollercoaster of the tarmac route continued again, the Garmin beeps flashed by and before I knew it I was 23 miles in. It is a lonely place the second half of this run as the only people you see are fellow runners and there were not many of them. I had no idea where I was position wise and was just content to keep running to try and keep the cramp at bay. The wheel nearly came off this plan with only a few miles to go as I had to stop and stretch the legs to prevent them seizing up. I had a little battle with a couple of runners and we traded places from 21 to 24 miles, but by the time the final two miles came I think we had decided to call it quits and settle for what we had whatever that was. Quick look at the watch, 3 hours with 2 miles to go "Let's try and get this under 3.15 then" I thought, how difficult can that be? Mistake number four: a decision made with tired mind and weary legs!

And so as the last mile unfolded the realisation was setting in that not only had I nearly completed my first road marathon in over ten years (London in 2000 was the last one) but I had not found it all that bad. No agonising cramp, no collapsing on my back bending legs over my head, no walls hit, no dark cheap rolex places visited mentally, and overall I had enjoyed the run. I saw the red finishing archway, I picked up my pace to a relaxed jog and heard the clapping and saw some TAC faces beaming! I crossed the line in 3.14.28, a PB for me and a real experience. The bonus was finishing 6th which totally flawed me! If they had said 66th I would have been happy, finishing was my goal!

I stumbled to the drinks table only yards from the finish line only to be greeted with a pint of Guinness courtesy of my cousin Mark (surely he should be a member of Trawden with this philosophy?). Debating whether to down it or not, I could feel my insides scream "NO!" as I brought the pint to my mouth. Just a mouthful then cheap rolex replica to whet my appetite for later. I congratulated those that had finished, notably Dave Motley from CleM who finished a minute before me in fourth; I had not seen him from the moment we set off till I crossed the finish line! Then I cheered the other Humbugs in, Paul and Chris, with his traditional forward roll over the line. Only one thing for it now...bar!

So what a great weekend, I cannot promote it enough. The ladies claimed team prize in the Half and we took the hastily invented Men's team prize in the Full. The evening was spent rehydrating in the bling stopmha.org Old Dungeon Ghyll pub where Adam Howard protested that he was not drunk and had only had four pints, however the post box he was protesting to was not having it!

I hope that next year we get better weather and as big if not bigger TAC contingent, it's a cracking race and one I would do again. Mistake number five: saying that I would do it again in this write up!