long distance – Page 7 – My Outdoor Living Room

Readers of a certain age and disposition will remember Magnus Magnusson and his catchphrase, “I’ve started, so I’ll finish”. It’s quite motivating when taken completely out of its original context and uttered to oneself in the middle of the night, 40 miles into an ultramarathon.

As far back as I can remember in my life of outdoor pursuits, I’ve been inspired by endurance and individual achievement. During different times when I’ve been experiencing adversity myself, I have often been helped by reading about remarkable achievements by athletes and even, non-athletes. I recall a story I read which was about an older gentleman who had never ran before in his life. His son became ill and he wanted to do something to raise money so he took up running, and in particular, running marathons. Talk about ambitious. Anyway, he trained a little bit, and got impatient with training so decided to have a go at the 26.2 miles and absolutely smashed it. So he had another go a few days later. Same result. He went so far as to reveal the secret of his success, which (and if you’re a sports nutritionist, look away now) was to drive out to the Norfolk coast where he used to run, sit in the car, and have a flask of tea. Then run a marathon. This story inspired me and made me jealous all at the same time as at that moment, I was 24 and running a marathon was a far away dream. Surprisingly I didn’t suddenly start drinking copious amounts of tea.

A couple of years before, I was much more stressed. I had a job I didn’t like, a relationship I wasn’t happy in, and thought that it was what the rest of my life was going to be like. At 22, everything felt permanent. To de-stress, I started cycling on Saturday mornings on my old mountain bike. I loved the open air, the countryside, the rush of endorphins afterwards and (as I still do) the limitless freedom. Cycling the same lanes every Saturday though started to get a little predictable and for the first time, I started to imagine challenging myself further. I began to think of bigger challenges to do. I wasn’t aware of Land’s End to John O’Groats in those days so I felt I’d have to invent my own.

On my cycling route, I crossed a main A-road twice. This same A-road used to run up north past my friend’s house so I was aware it went a long way. I figured if I’d cycled a little bit of it, I might as well do the whole thing. I got home, switched on the computer and found a route planner. It turned out, the road was a long one. I enjoyed the thought of planning it and doing it. And then, my dad walked in and brought me back down to earth with a bump. He was right – it was a long way. It was a busy and dangerous road. I’d have to train. I’d need support. The plan was abandoned but it did spark something inside of me that I still have to this day. The curiosity of where the footpath goes. How long it is. Has anyone walked it all? Ran it all, even? If I see a named footpath, like the Cotswold Way, I’m online looking it up. Imagining if it’s possible. The eyes of those around me begin to roll: “He’s at it again”. I have three long distance footpaths under my belt and planning more.

A couple of weekends ago I decided I was going to run a local route that I’ve had my eye on for a while. It follows a river from mouth to source, or vice-versa. I’ve walked sections of it and ran bits of it numerous times but always wondered where it went, what it looked like and where it meandered through. I got myself together and set off, and as expected, it didn’t disappoint. It was fifteen miles, so not long distance by any stretch of the imagination, but it was an enjoyable fifteen miles in my own back garden effectively. Another curiosity satisfied. Another goal seen through to completion.

For me, as for pretty much everyone, this summer has not been normal. The strangest things I found were things like the complete inability to just jump in the car, and go and visit somewhere. Having that spark of imagination, or memory and saying, “Let’s go there”, as, in my area anyway, most places had booking systems. Furthermore, when it was possible to go somewhere, I was finding them more packed to the rafters with other tourists than normal, so things were pretty strange. I did get a good mountain walking day in over south Wales on midweek day, but it had to be an early start, which I have never minded.

On my previous post, I mentioned losing momentum over the summer, and lacked motivation. My way of dealing with this was to take a week off running. After returning to it, a couple of weeks later, I realised I’d been running on 6 consecutive days. Competitive drive activated. I thought, “Why not go 50 days running every single day?”, so that’s what I did. One of these runs was a few miles along the Worcestershire Way long distance footpath, which runs for 30 miles north to south, or vice versa of course. I have completed an organised ultra marathon along most of the path on two occasions. The light bulb of adventure pinged on and I decided to attempt to run the whole thing. A couple of weeks later, I decided to run it in both directions, in one go. 60 odd miles (or 100km, as that sounds more impressive).

I have lived in Worcestershire for my entire life, except for four agonising months when I lived in Warwickshire. The shame. In all those years, it’s amazing how little of the county I have seen and how little I know, although I probably know more than some. During the training for my solo ultra marathon, I covered miles and miles that I’ve never seen, passed through towns, villages, orchards, woodland and valleys completely new to my eyes and feet. One hidden gem was a valley that was home to a self-sufficient community, living in shepherd huts and cabins. Almost like a hidden oasis. There were steep climbs that were tackled practically on my hands and knees. While it made me wonder at my home county, it made me curious about firstly the other hundreds of places like it also in my county still to visit, as well as neighbouring counties and the rest of the country while I was as it. It’s things like that that make you realise how short our time is, and how busy we are. How many Saturdays to see all of Worcestershire? Don’t even get me started on all the books I need to read (or should read), films I need to see or albums I need to listen to. Next time someone says, “Life is short” – agree with them, cos it bloody is!

I won’t bore you with a blow-by-blow account of the run, but in a nutshell, I ran out of gas/daylight at 41 miles. Not the hallowed 60 that I had dreamt of. There was a pub at 41 miles that was too good to resist. It happened to be right at the bottom of a steep bloody hill too, so perfectly placed. I’m very pleased I did it, and it was just what I needed for motivation.

As I write, I am planning the next one, in a week’s time. Another local long distance footpath, more to discover. This desire to complete things in their entirety has been with me for years. When I was younger, I cycled a little bit of the A38 road through my home town, and wondered what it would be like to cycle the whole thing. I got home and did the research for an hour or so (pre-internet days), until I was talked out of it by my parents, with their many what if questions and parental concerns. Seven years later, they watched as I cycled the length of the UK. I’d regularly run a section of my local canal, and in 2011, I ran the whole 32 miles of it. That mentality still exists. I don’t know if I’d call it adventure, stubbornness, stupidity or what, but you can bet your life, if there’s a trail, famed road or river, someone, somewhere will have at least thought about traveling it in its entirety in one fashion or another. That quizzical curiosity of what lies past the end of your street. What is beyond that hill? Then what? Then what again. And again. In old days, people didn’t have the need to do it unless it was for trade, and besides, they were probably terrified of falling off the edge of the world. Toppling off the edge of the world is fine with me.