5th April: Pendine

Way back last year I entered the ballot for the London Marathon and like countless others I came-out without a place so I had an April sized hole in my marathon calendar. A few weeks ago I cast my eye around for a race to enter, not particularly wanting to run Blackpool again, and after stumbling on a few potentials that were unfortunately already fully booked I found something different:

The Pendine Ultra. The distance was only down as 32 miles so I knew it was do-able with my current levels of unfitness, so I entered and frankly I’ve been looking forward to it as something out of the ordinary to what I’ve been running of late. I’ve come-across the organisers, Ultra Running Ltd, before in the past when I found-out about their seriously nutty runs (and we’re talking full granola here) such as the Severn Challenge - where you run from the source of the eponymous river to the sea, and the running JOGLE (John O’Groats to Lands End).

Based in the village of Pendine on the Pembrokeshire coast in Wales, the course is 2 laps of a 16 mile circuit, with the first 6 or so miles being a run along the Pendine Sands, the location where they used to race in world land-speed record attempts… And somewhere along the beach for 40 years lay the remains of the race-car ‘Babs’, buried there after a crash that killed its driver, until it was exhumed and re-built to working order.

After this long flat expanse of sand there’s an inland loop taking you first up the Taff estuary a couple of miles before heading back across the country lanes to the start at Pendine and repeating to finish.

At the same time as we run the ultra, there’s a half marathon run along the sands, all of us doing the ‘out’ along the beach and where us ultras veer-off to the side, the halfers carry-on along a bit further before returning back from whence we came to get their 13.1 under their belts.

Following my normal trick I drove all the way to Pendine the night before and slept in the van, pulling in to an empty car-park at midnight, spoilt for choice for where to park, and slept for the night fully expecting to wake to find a miserable overcast day as per the forecast.

The sun rises.

Dawn broke and around me with strong morning sunshine and chill air of the earlier part of Spring… I took a wander to the beach to survey as much of the course as I could see, but all I could see was the sea as the tide was well and truly in! I had read that as if by magic about half an hour before the start the beach would clear, and its quite amazing how rapidly the tide moves out (and back in later) with the beach stretching so far out to sea. I took advantage of the strong sunshine of this ‘golden hour’ of daylight to snap some shots of Pendine with the tide in before returning back to the van to wait for the organisers to arrive and registration to commence.

Pendine at high tide.

Breakfasting I could see more of the runners beginning to arrive in the car park around me ready for the registration, so I wandered off to join them in the car park outside the beachside cafe to sign-in.

From looking at my fellow runners, it seemed that the majority were to be partaking of the half rather than the ultra, so I enquired as to how many of us were to be doing the longer run, and the reply was 13 confirmed for today and I was handed the number 16… So without even starting the race I was at least guaranteed a finish higher than my number, the holy grail of all runners!

Registering

Milling around I was asked to take a before photo against the scenic backdrop by a trio of ladies who had parked behind me in the car park. It turned out they had driven over from the Leek area on the edge of the Peak District for a bit of a run on some flat land for a change, with 2 of them doing the half and the other doing the ultra with me… Soon after I bumped in to another couple of the ultras, Ian and Will, both of them having come from not too far down the road living in south Wales Both of them had lower race numbers than me, so I joked with them that the pressure was on for them to finish before their numbers.

Will, me & Ian

Come the 9:30 start and all of us ultras and halfers were lined-up together en-masse between the flags at the bottom of the slipway, the sea having miraculously disappeared in and unbelievably short space of time and now seemed to be about half a mile away from us… And we were off, the halfers chasing the win haring away and leaving us all behind following their footprints in the sand.

And they're off!

With the water not long since vamoosed the sand was quite hard-packed under foot so you had decent traction without sinking in more than the lugs on your trainers, meaning that mercifully  it was not too heavy going. I found myself for the first few miles running with Lucinda, one of the three ladies I took the photo for, who was using the race as a training effort for the forthcoming London marathon - well with the beach being flat, I suppose its a good training run in part for the capital’s course. As we ran and chatted, Lucinda looked at her pace over the first couple of miles in horror: We were merrily pootling along at 9 minute miles on the button - a bit too fast when you have got all that distance to cover, and not fitting with her race/ training plan for today so she decided to reign it in for a bit.

The sun was shining down upon us with some strength to it and with very little wind about I was regretting having my jacket on as well as a thermal base-layer. I knew it would be 8 miles before I hit the aid station and a stop for a munch on the food, so I attempted to persuade myself that I could last till then without overheating too much, only to get hotter still and more uncomfortable. After hitting the 4 mile mark I decided that it would be foolhardy to continue so I jogged-off the trail to the side and stripped-off the jacket, stuffing it into my pack and rolled-up my sleeves - the relief was instant.

Looking back along the course through some washed-up flotsam.

After cooling down a bit and cursing the fact I had believed the weather forecast of duff weather and left my cycling cap at home, leaving me without sun protection for my head (or sun cream for any exposed skin), having watched all my fellow runners slowly snake past I rejoined the race pretty much near the back of the pack for the last couple of miles to the turn.

An Aurelia jellyfish washed up.

The closer we came to the turn the deeper the sand seemed to get. I figured that a sensible option would be to run in the compacted track left by the 4x4 support vehicle that had driven past us, but even then your feet were sinking in to the soft sand. As I navigated this stretch the first of the half marathoners began to appear in front and pass me on their return leg - some seriously quick runners at the front of that race, with one of the other 3 ladies from earlier near the front of the pack.

Me doing the 'moose' as I approach the turn off the beach.

Soon I hit the turn inland and was directed off through the dunes - striding as confidently as I could along the trail with the element of doubt as to ‘am I going the right way?’ on my mind. Checking behind me I could see one other person on the ultra course, so I waited for them to catch-up as I figured that two heads were probably better than one when it came to the navigation.

Inland!

My running partner for the next couple of miles was Judith, a veteran of 85 marathons/ ultras and gunning for the 100 club - which she hoped to join pretty much by the end of the summer. The two of us forged our way inland over the dunes and the causeway next to the estuary until we came to the sheer lump of rock in front of us that we knew we knew was standing between us and the 8 mile aid station.

The water leeching out the rock and dripping down.

Skirting around the bottom of it there were some lovely rain-like waterfalls where the water was just leaching out of the rock and trickling down all the vines that clung to the rock-face towards the ground. This refreshing sight soon gave way to a darker avenue of a path as you climbed-up on to the wooded side of the hill, mercifully sheltering you from the heat as your calves got their first taste of real work for the day with the steep gradient.

Topping-out we had a wonderful view out to the sea along the estuary with its mud-flats. There were plenty of benches along the path to act as viewing platform for anyone who wished to soak-up the wonderful sight. Aside from the view, the other good thing about getting to the top was the descent about to come, so leaning in to the gradient the two of us jogged our way at a good pace all the way down to the aid station at the foot of the hill next to the ruined Laugharne Castle. The village of Laugharne is the place Dylan Thomas last called home before he pickled himself to death, with the village itself taking centre stage in ‘Under Milkwood’ as the fictional ‘Llareggub’ - for those who know nothing of his humour, read the name backwards ;)

The aid station and its historic setting.

Stopping here to pay attention to my feet and apply some more vaseline to prevent any hot-spots and blisters I decided to break one of the cardinal rules of distance running: Upon seeing the food on the aid station I decided to ‘try something new on race-day’. They had a varied selection of 9 bars, GU gels and jam sandwiches amongst other things as well as some Red Bull. I decided to have a couple of the 9 bars and wash them down with some Red Bull, which is gently carbonated so doesn’t make you burp like an earthquake after necking it and grabbed some GU’s to take with me along the route.

I inquired how many people had gone through before us and was told we were the 6th and 7th so far - which was a bit puzzling as out on the course when looking down off the I could only spy one other runner on it… Unperturbed by this I left the aid station (Judith had long since departed) and tried to make sense of the directions through the village and head further inland… It was as the course climbed-out of the village that my navigation skills let me down, taking a left turn on a fork when it should have been a right and I found myself on a road that got narrower and narrower before I could see it was ending as someone’s drive, so I had to turn-back and re-trace my steps… It was when I was on the road again that I could see the bright orange spray painted arrow on the grass verge that indicated the direction I should have taken. Doh!

Heading out of the village.

On the climb up the hill I passed another runner, who I recognised as the one I glimpsed when I was up on the hill, so I figured that for some reason whilst I was 8th, by rights on the pace I was running I must also have been last, well last of all the people who were on the right track. Which must mean that everybody else must have taken wrong turns at the end of the beach section that had cost them time and distance if they were still behind me.

Once up on to the road above the village which seemed to be the top of the ridge that leads all the way back to Pendine you were caught in the full glare of the unforgiving sun, jogging along the tarmac avoiding the occasional car and tractor with just the sounds of the birds calling around you and the realisation that spring has certainly now arrived and the promise of summer’s warmth is just around the corner. The whole journey was spent surrounded by rolling fields and farmland that gave the impression that the last time the landscape was touched was to lay the road itself.

The route back to Pendine was 8 miles and after around 4 I caught sight of two runners ahead of me, slowly reeling them in as time progressed. When I caught them I found it was Will and Ian, who had got hopelessly lost on leaving the beach and had completely by-passed the aid station. According to their Garmins they had run the same distance as I had so they were at least relieved not to have suffered any more than they should have, or missed on distance that might lead to a disqualification. It turned out that Ian was suffering from IT band trouble, hence me reeling them in steadily, as to manage the discomfort he could only run half a mile at a time, walking for the other half. Chatting with them about the route - and how it was useful that we all had to carry an OS print-out of it so we could at least navigate ourselves if lost, they asked if possible could I stick around with them to get through there on the second lap so as not to repeat the mistake!.. I was faced with a decision - do I carry on at my own pace and no-doubt run a very lonely race, or do I stay with the two of them and the three of us can share the burden of the long run?.. I chose the latter.

Now a trio we made our way along the country lanes to the turn for Pendine by a pub, where the assembled early lunch crowd cheered us onwards and we made our way towards the beach and the climb over the cliff into the village itself and the start of the second lap.

Will & Ian relieved to be at the top.

The 'sands' in its full glory.

The slog up to the top was tough, but the view from there was stunning, affording a full uninterrupted gaze over the sands below - the beach really is huge! The descent down countless steps brought us straight into the hubbub of the village centre, with the sun out so was everybody to take advantage of it, the cafes doing a roaring trade in ice-cream and plenty of families were on the beach enjoying the first chance of the year to do so.

Back on to the beach and at the aid-station, the back of the 4x4 support vehicle, I feasted on some more 9 bars and another can of Red Bull and the 3 of us headed along the sands once more. I think for all of us this was the least favourite part - mostly because of the unrelenting nature of it. It was pretty featureless apart from an observation tower for the naval firing range that the beach forms part of.

The varied vista.

A dead Dogfish (or a 'Rock Salmon' as your chippy will call it).

Running and walking we made it to the turn and the three of us went off in the correct direction this time. It turned-out that Will and Ian had followed the road rather than taking a right into a car park and following the footpath. Thankfully this time there was to be no repetition for them and we all made the climb up the hill again, where I paused to take some more pics of the view and of the boards telling of how Dylan Thomas used to love walking up here.

One of the information boards about Dylan Thomas.

Same shot as first time around but very different colours!

The castle from afar.

Through the aid station we were onto the final quarter of the route, making steady progress with the run/ walk strategy. Passing where Ian and Will rejoined the course they were able to see how far off the track they had traversed, but now with counting down the miles, and entering in to the final 10k of the run it somehow seemed less important. Ian was very relieved as he knew now he could manage his injury to the finish line rather than having to drop-out so moral amongst the three of us was good. As we carried on the run/ walk, it was with about 3 miles remaining that I did not notice my companions had stopped for the walk and I could see I was now about 50 metres in front of them… I thought that I could stop and wait for them to catch me, or I could just carry-on seeing as they certainly knew the route back from here, so rather than disrupt my rhythm I carried on going, allowing myself to stretch out and run at my own speed for the final few miles. I could certainly say that running within my limits for so long ensured my legs were pretty fresh considering how many miles I had already completed and the last few miles seemed to fly past in no time.

Finishing back on the slipway, I posed for a photo with the race director I was presented with my t-shirt and a lovely medal that’s so big you could eat your dinner off it! I blagged a couple of cans of Red Bull for the drive home and went to walk back to the van. As I walked-off the beach I was accosted by an old lady who was asking me what on earth all the running was, so I explained to her about the two races - she said she was in admiration of all of us wanting to do such a thing, and it sounds like something she would have loved to have tried herself if such things were happening for her back when she was in her prime!

Relieved to have come-through the run unscathed and feeling pretty fresh thanks to taking it easy with Will and Ian I went to walk back to the van but could hear some shouting in my direction from the cafe next to the slipway: it was Lucinda, Kirsty and Sarah, the trio of ladies from this morning’s photo all enjoying a post-race celebratory beer, so I went round to say hello and celebrate with them only with a Red Bull as I would soon be driving. It turned out that Lucinda won the ladies ultra, although found it a pretty lonely run as once off the beach she never really saw anyone else for the next 26 miles! and Kirsty had won the ladies half, so a pretty successful day for the three of them. Chatting about what races we are all doing this year, with them all living next to it and training regularly along parts of the route: they are doing the Peak Skyrace, which I have also entered - they then proceeded to rip it out of me for doing this as a hobby whilst living in a place with no hills and nowhere to practice, bigging-up on how hard it will be to get myself up and down some big-arsed hills and being unprepared for the challenge… Thanks ladies ;) At least I’ll know 3 people when I’m at the start there come August, and no doubt 3 people who will finish in front of me!

The Leek'y Ladies (or Buxton wenches?) Lucinda, Kirsty & Sarah.

As we chatted, we spotted Ian and Will descending the hill in to the village and cheered them on as they crossed the finish line 15 minutes after me. I had pulled-out 5 minutes a mile on them over the three miles to the finish, which certainly displayed the difference in pace of the enforced run/ walk because of Ian’s injury over my normal pace… It turned-out that there was only one more runner to come, Axel, the one who had passed me when I took a wrong turn and he crossed the line 10 minutes later… Which made me 7th out of the field of 11 as 2 of the original 13 failed to make it to the start line.

Looking at the results, the two finishers above me were only half an hour faster than I was over the 32 miles, so its not inconceivable that if I had been moving at my own pace, I could have overhauled both of them for a 5th place finish as I was losing up to 5 minutes a mile on them from mile 12 to mile 29!.. But at least I had good company on the run, unlike the solitude experienced by Lucinda on her way to getting her winners trophy.

Bidding farewell I went back to the van and the drive home… I had said to LSS that I would prepare some home made burgers for dinner, so I drove back as fast as I could without stopping for my customary Whopper on the way back.

I would like to say I will return to run this again. The course challenging in a mental way rather than physical - the flat unrelenting sand and the loneliness due to the small field proving more of a challenge than the physical demands of the terrain - if anything the climbs up the two big hills either side of the course were welcome respites to the rest of it! I liked the two lap concept as whilst you were seeing the same sights twice, it was neither tedious nor repetitive in a way that running 5x10k laps would be that some ultra races would have you do… I would also like to put down a representative time for the run as well, but hey, I doubt I will have a warmer or sunnier day to enjoy it on - apparently last year it pissed it down with rain!

Eat pies.
Drink beer.
Run far.