Revisited: Country to Capital the Second

Flashback to the same time last year: I had almost stopped being a runner over this Country to Capital 45 miles race, having experienced a rare case of running depression during the 30k (19mi) final stretch along the Grand Union Canal. The bits that are run-down, littered and dystopian looking had enforced my dark and sinister thoughts about running and life. Well, I had finished somehow but was left with the feeling that there are demons to face. I normally don’t like this “facing demons” expression, but can’t think of a better one to describe how it felt one year later. Again in Wendover, Buckinghamshire, I was standing at the start for another round of some gruelling 70k (43.5mi). My recommendation for facing demons? Pray. Which I did, I am not joking. Even though I felt much more prepared than on the first attempt, running 70k and not getting into a bad mental state was beyond my comprehension. If last year had taught me something, it probably was not to underestimate your challenge. There are two books that have boosted my running morale lately. First, “North” from ultra-running legend Scott Jurek and his attempt to run the infamous 2,200 miles Appalachian Trail against common advice not north to south, but south to north and still do the best known time for this distance. Can I recommend this book? Not sure. But while it might borderline to self-harm and irresponsible decision-making, Scott’s experience of inner struggles, focus and determination, rightly or wrongly, inspires me. The other book is Eric Orton’s “The Cool Impossible”, which gives very good insight into running form and awareness. I don’t think I will ever be a runner with a great running form, but still, this book is giving me a boost to try working on it to the best of my abilities and reminding me that awareness does not just happen, it, too, needs to be worked on. The race started and very soon I would find out if this prep talk is of any use. This time round I started at the back, which forced me to put my first resolution into practice: taking it slow from the beginning. Only a few hundred meters from the start was the first gate, that caused a big bulk of runners waiting to get through one by one. An experience that was repeated several times over the next few ks. But it really did help not to get over excited and fast. I had decided not to run by distance, time or pace, but just try to go with the flow and focus on body awareness and asking myself: How do I feel in the here and now? I did plan the five checkpoints in, because they also meant water, nutrition and electrolytes, but I tried not to focus on them. When the first checkpoint (CP1) came at kilometre 12 (mile 8) I did not check the time, just grabbed three of my favourite GU gels and carried on. I could feel my legs more than I thought is good that early in the race, despite walking and not running up the hills this time.At checkpoint two (CP2) I knew I am already 28k (17mi) into the race and the nicest bits from the Buckinghamshire forests and countryside is almost over. And I couldn’t say, by any stretch, that I still felt fresh in my legs. That was all becoming too soon too heavy. At marathon distance (42k/26mi) the third checkpoint (CP3) waited for us. I felt exactly like I always feel when running marathons, even at a moderate pace: this is enough, I am spent, I actually want to stop. And yet there were another 28k (17mi) to do. At this point the route already follows the tow path of the canal, but the nasty bits come later. I tried to brace myself. The plan was to look only at the few meters ahead and not getting distracted by what is around. A few more kilometers into it, this plan seemed to crumble. Up to this point everything had been pretty similar to last time and now I was at the point where I had stopped the year before, started walking and experienced the whole downward spiral. One thing was different though. This time round I was aware of it. These were the demons I had to face. Then I felt a sudden almost supernatural thought entering my mind: Don’t stop running, slow down, but whatever you do, don’t stop moving your legs. It doesn’t sound like a big revelation when I write it down now, but when it happened it felt like direct inspiration from heaven. It does not matter how fast I am or if my running is not even worth being called that, all that matters is to move my legs like they would do a running movement and not stop and walk. And that was what carried me through the last third of the race. I did not look left or right, I focussed on a running movement, I even managed to change and adapt some of it, trying to increase the cadence while shortening my steps.When I reached CP4 at 53k (33miles) I was almost surprised that I was already there. It did feel that my mind constantly tried to wander to more interesting things. Like the shower I would take when home, or how it would be like to be close to the finish line. I felt like these thoughts were not helping at all and tried to counteract with thoughts like I am not there yet, I am here and this is what I now have to do. This whole staying aware was not easy, but it seemed possible. Reaching the last checkpoint (CP5) at 60k (37mi) I felt weirdly refreshed. Only 10k (6.5mi) left? I can do that. The run that followed almost felt like a sprint, but because I never checked my pace I only found out later, that in fact it was not that much faster. However, I crossed the finish line in high spirits: it was still daylight, the last stretch along North Kensington towards Little Venice felt almost dreamlike and I was so grateful for how things had turned out. My time was 7:28:43, almost 1 hour 10 minutes faster than last time. Unbelievable. Maybe I will do it next year again.