Having travelled up the night before, and found I had booked a very comfortable cottage extremely close to the race Headquarters in St David's City Hall, I was looking forward to the first day.
I had promised to run the day with Paul who I'd met at supper the previous evening. He described himself as a non runner (doing 3 offroad marathons in 3 days - mad), so wanted to take it slowly, which suited me.
We arrived at 11am at a wet and dark Dale harbour. 65 runners were counted through, and then we were off. Paul instantly disappeared with the leading pack and I found myself plodding along at the back, second from last. My plan was to run my own race, and take it at a pace that felt easy. I soon picked up with Ross, a guy who was a multiday eventing veteran, who reassured me that we would soon start to pick people off. He was right. By Check Point 1 I was beginning to pass people, even though the mud was thick underfoot. Those runners in road shoes, were already suffering, and one guy wearing Vibram 5 Toes barefoot shoes, was just plain mad.
At Checkpoint 2 I left another handful of runners behind, but by now I was cold and the weather had really closed in. Luckily I was familiar with the route having spent years holidaying in the area, so found CP 3 with no trouble. However I'd run out of water about 3 miles before CP3. but with no option but to keep running, dehydration was a real issue. With just 4 miles to go to the end a runner in front turned and waved at me. I waved back thinking how friendly the race was. It wasn't until I drew alongside I realised it was Paul! Unfortunately Paul was no longer able to raise his arms to run, or lift his legs properly, and was really struggling, so I walked alongside him for a bit, until I cajoled him to start running. With a bit of bullying and friendly banter we made fairly quick work of the next 3 miles, even the seemingly endless steep slippery ups and downs. Once Paul and I had had an inevitable moment of hysterical giggles we rounded a headland and the lights of Newgale could be seen.
For the last mile and a half with my headtorch on, we shuffle jogged down the road and completed the day with a final blast across the finish line. Job done, day 1 complete.
It wasn't until I had changed and sat down in the warm minibus with a cup of soup that I realised how rubbish I felt. Both legs had DOMs, probably exacerbated by the speed work last weekend, and the countless hills in the race. I felt light headed and not at all with it. That evening as I lay in bed, aching, I truly wondered whether my career as a multiday runner was an unobtainable dream, or whether it really was possible to feel this awful, and yet still get up and do another day.
I had promised to run the day with Paul who I'd met at supper the previous evening. He described himself as a non runner (doing 3 offroad marathons in 3 days - mad), so wanted to take it slowly, which suited me.
We arrived at 11am at a wet and dark Dale harbour. 65 runners were counted through, and then we were off. Paul instantly disappeared with the leading pack and I found myself plodding along at the back, second from last. My plan was to run my own race, and take it at a pace that felt easy. I soon picked up with Ross, a guy who was a multiday eventing veteran, who reassured me that we would soon start to pick people off. He was right. By Check Point 1 I was beginning to pass people, even though the mud was thick underfoot. Those runners in road shoes, were already suffering, and one guy wearing Vibram 5 Toes barefoot shoes, was just plain mad.
At Checkpoint 2 I left another handful of runners behind, but by now I was cold and the weather had really closed in. Luckily I was familiar with the route having spent years holidaying in the area, so found CP 3 with no trouble. However I'd run out of water about 3 miles before CP3. but with no option but to keep running, dehydration was a real issue. With just 4 miles to go to the end a runner in front turned and waved at me. I waved back thinking how friendly the race was. It wasn't until I drew alongside I realised it was Paul! Unfortunately Paul was no longer able to raise his arms to run, or lift his legs properly, and was really struggling, so I walked alongside him for a bit, until I cajoled him to start running. With a bit of bullying and friendly banter we made fairly quick work of the next 3 miles, even the seemingly endless steep slippery ups and downs. Once Paul and I had had an inevitable moment of hysterical giggles we rounded a headland and the lights of Newgale could be seen.
For the last mile and a half with my headtorch on, we shuffle jogged down the road and completed the day with a final blast across the finish line. Job done, day 1 complete.
It wasn't until I had changed and sat down in the warm minibus with a cup of soup that I realised how rubbish I felt. Both legs had DOMs, probably exacerbated by the speed work last weekend, and the countless hills in the race. I felt light headed and not at all with it. That evening as I lay in bed, aching, I truly wondered whether my career as a multiday runner was an unobtainable dream, or whether it really was possible to feel this awful, and yet still get up and do another day.
What does DOM means?
ReplyDeleteThe French Girl!