Trail of Herts: When a 55 miler turns to a 60

Trail of Herts: a 55 mile trail race from Berkhamsted, Hertfordshire, heading down to London via The Chilterns Way, Hertfordshire Way, Chain Walk, canal and riverside paths and where sticking to someone who knows how to read maps is the answer to finishing this race.

It's 8:20 am in Berkhamsted cricket club, Cliff King, the race director is giving the inaugural security briefing of the first edition of Trail of Herts. In front of him are about 40 trail runners anxious to hit the trail. For some it will be their first ultra, for others it will be an add-on to an already long list of ultra running accomplishments. For us, what should have been a "training" run to prepare for the Endurance Trail, 103km at the end of October and our first 55 miles will become a "survival" run where "stalking" someone (like Mick likes to call it) will be the key to see the finish line.

8:33 am, the race starts with a flat warm up section before giving us the first taste of the Chilterns Hill, there are very happy marshals guiding us through the trail and road crossing. We hit our second hill, we are quite far back and there are not many people around. In front of us is Glyn and Anna, Glyn is this cool dude with a lion crown who ran the Grand Canal Union and some other crazy races, and with Anna, they run marathons pretty much every weekend! This thou, will only be revealed after 2 long miles where 10 of us got lost twice before reaching the first checkpoint and when 5 of us decided instinctively to stick together and count on Glyn to guide us through the rest of the race with his map skills and with Anna spotting these damn markers with her eagle eyes.

 After checkpoint 1 and our not so fun lost experience, we are already having trouble finding the next path, this moment feels hostile and quite stressful for me, while Mick is so chill! We've only been on the run for 10ish miles (should have been 9) and I have a feeling that this challenge will last for God knows how long...note to myself: funny how being lost and counting on others gets me out of my comfort zone. We finally find the trail and carry somewhat steady until a junction, we all stop, not sure where to go as what's in front doesn't look like what's on the map.The worry creeps in, one wrong turn can lead you 4 miles away from the original path (which is what the lead group ended up doing).


Glyn and MapMan discussed of the road, while I find myself in a vicious spiral of negativity, this uncertainty added to the pains I'm getting all over my left leg is the right cocktail for a DNF!   I'm not feeling it at all, I need a distraction but there are no hills or rocks to play with,and we keep running and braking...you get to pass under very nice big old bridges thou, this distracts me for a while, that and Anna's conversation :)


After a while, I can't control myself any more. I need to say something but I don't want to let anyone know how maybe they feel too. So I look at Mick and he sees it, he could feel something was wrong as I was limping and making faces, but had no idea of how bad it was in my head. He listens to my pain, ignores my moody comments and tell me all of these nice things, to which my mind answers by running to the next 10 miles with better...attitude! 35 miles to go.

We are now on our way to Hoddeston, the trail is following the Chain Walk and passes on the border of Hertford, it's a mixture of typical English country side (large fields) and small forests.  We passed the half way mark of the race but still looking at the map and searching for markers. It becomes a game which Anna wins with her eagle eyes. MapMan is very good at reassuring Glyn that we are on the right track. It's a nice feeling, we feel very comfortable in the little group but wonder how others are doing hoping they are not alone. We are now in Box Wood which according to the map is close to checkpoint 4, but we are still running searching for it. Anna and I agree that this was the longest 7 miles of the race at this point! When we reach it, the volunteers are ever so welcoming with warm smile and with so much attention that it lifted the mood of everyone.
I need to pee thou! it's hard to stop for it when you are in a group and when Mick keeps telling you to keep up because who knows how we could find our own way around this route...So instead of just do my business, I know have to wait till each checkpoint, let the group there while I find a nice tree or bush, do my business and be joined back on time.How fun is that ladies heh?

We leave the checkpoint and follow the river trail to Enfield. The back pain has moved to my left foot and knee. For some reason, it's easier to run than walk, which...doesn't really help when the plan was to do 25 min running, 5 minutes walk strategy. The river path is nice, full of willow trees and so quiet and I attempt to distract myself from the little voice like Mick told me to. I'm so focused on this that I don't realise the group is splitting. Glyn and Anna stopped and tell us to carry on, they will catch up. I hope so, Anna and I had decided to finish together as we were the first 2 ladies. Funny enough, we had argued who would cross the line first, 15 miles in the race. I was convinced that she would be first, as I was debating if I was ever going to finish this not so fun training run..... I check up on Mick. He doesn't say much about his pain, but I know his feet are hurting, his knee has been bothering him for the last month. Everyone looks like they having some internal debate with themselves too. Mick tells me it's part of the deal, the longer you run, the more you get to challenge yourself both mentally and physically, welcome to the ultra world....Ick...it's not very welcoming then is it?

 ...We reach checkpoint 5 where nice chocolate cookies and cool doggies along with cheerful volunteers shows me that this is also part of the ultra world and it is actually worth the pain. I wait till I see Anna and Glyn and hear myself telling Mick to rally me,  the cookies must have hit a spot because I can actually carrying on...as long as I'm running. Mick, Anna and Glyn catch me up to follow the river which leads to the Grand Union Canal. After 2 miles in, I realised I've been wanting to pee for a while but the river path even thou is nice to run on, has bikes and people so...how do you pee?..where where where....Can't believe not finding a spot to pee can be such a "traumatic" experience. I feel bad, super bad, I want to go home and it feels so far away...
We find a small bush along the canal, and I gain my sanity again. Anna and Glyn are quite far, I'm happy to see her go, she will finish strong. With my sanity back on track, we attempt to have a discussion about the places we just ran and naturally slow down to a walk... my groin hurts,slowing down is making it worst. I hear myself moaning again, Mick whispers encouragements and stick to my side, never letting me go lower in my vicious cycle. He tells me to just run and not worry about the strategy or his own feet. He is so understanding but find it crazy that the only way for me to feel better is to run and not walk...so twisted!  I keep repeating to myself, it's only 16 miles away, just 16 miles so much so that we rally Anna and Glyn. A bike is coming towards us...I can't slow down so I pass them quickly. Something clicks in my head, I'm now on some sort of survival mode, I'm going faster, a part of me has enough and just want to go home, and this part has overcome everything else. 13 Miles to go

Mick catches me up, telling me to slow down, I try but it's stronger than me, we soon reach checkpoint 6, I barely speak, I need to go, I just need to go, I tell Mick to rally. As soon as he is at my side, I speed up, I have no clue where this is going and when I'm going to crash and he is worried that I won't last to and ask me slow down. I'm getting frustrated again because the canal path is not straight forward and I need to stop and look at the map, arrh everytime we stop it hurts me so bad...the canal is bigger, the environment more residential and industrial, we reach Hackney Marsh but we are looking for Hackney Wick. Note to myself: really need to Reece the route before a race!
I'm praying that we are on the right trail as there is no marker, we carry on running when I turn around and see no one behind. Anna is out of sight,...what have I done? 7 miles to go

Last check point, the guy says it's only 5 miles away, just go up the bridge and carry on straight...ya right, if it was that easy heh? We stop again to check the map and ask a cyclist the way...home...we follow his recommendation and just run, as fast as possible  in these conditions. Thoughts of that guy who physically crash 300 yards before the finish line in this legendary American race creep in.  I look back, hoping to see Anna, Mick tells me I'm first woman, and to just slow down that we are ok. He hasn’t get it thou, I don't care about the place in the race, I just want to go home...suddenly we see two runners in front of us, it's number 9 and 10 spots, they are running but we are flying past, where is the finish line? I get a call from Cliff wondering where I am...I'm also wondering where we are and why we are not there yet...when suddenly...out of nowhere...the end of the trail. Finally! Home is almost there....ah it's over.

In a blur, I thanked Cliff for organising the race and the marshals and just sat there. I can't believe I won...where is Anna? I so wanted to be here with her and share the joy. So much so that even thou we want to go home, we stay until they arrive, because I know that without them, we would not be here right now,... probably still lost between checkpoint 3 and 4 or else.

What a day! 12 hours, 60 miles of England sights discovery with it's country side, canals and rivers paths. 12 hours of a gruelling one to one with a body and a mind that have a "mind" of their own. 60 miles of counting on others to lead the way. What a race! what should have been a training run finished in a competition with oneself. what could have been a DNF ended up in winning a trophy. How more swirly can I be?

Trail Etendard: fuel over mind

It’s 6 am on Sunday 25/08/2013, at the edge of the canal, 45 pairs of legs are waiting, eager to stumble upon this first edition of Trail de l'Etendard: a 63 Km trail race joining Bourg d'Oisans to Saint Sorlin d'Arves in France.

The night before the small village had been drenched down and we had all wondered if today was going to be the same...but little time is left to debate. Laid in front is a flat road section offered to us as a warm-up by the river Romanche. All we can see is the dancing headlights and all we can hear is the sound of the water and chatter from runners around us. Warm-up is over as soon as we reach the forest path; in front of us is the first 1000m climb to Villard Reculars, sleepy village nested below the famous ski resort village of Alpes d'Huez.

This is a tough 5 km climb as there is already a significant gap in between runners, no one dare talking, we are sleepy zombies climbing up that mountain searching for the first rays of sun. My sleepy head is not registering anything and I feel like a turtle moving up so ever slowly that I wonder if I'm last!
The climb is never ending, no rest allowed unless you decide to hang around the first CP. No one really does thou, we all want to reach the summit as we know the 12 lakes are eagerly waiting to play. Second CP on the border of Alpes d’Huez, village is still asleep but the volunteers are trying their best to cheer anyone looking gloomy. Again,I don’t stop; I want to carry on as there is another 1000m of ascent to reach the Col Blanc CP. I haven't eaten anything for the last 2 hours, but I don't realise it until...I’m struggling to run on these darn shallow ascents made of road and tiny fields. Looking up,  I wonder where Mick is, I wanted to race with him as this is my "A" race and wanted to do a good time. Feels and looks like, I’ve made a mistake with my fuel and the motor is just not going strong…To distract me from my poor performance I decide to take pictures :) as usual in these moments I forget that this should be a race and just breathe in the grandeur of the mountain.

I finally reach the Col Blanc CP, the volunteers are so cheery but are looking at me a bit concerned…I’m not looking great, a volunteer who saw me at the first CP wonders if I’m going to make it . In my right hand one volunteer forces a cup of tea with sugar and fizzy water, in the other hand a sweet lady put a piece of Pain d’Epice, a piece of butter cake and waits for me to eat, telling me that I won’t be going anywhere unless I put this in my motor! I dutifully start eating, scared that I won’t be allowed to carry on. As soon as I finished with the tea, I’m handed a glass of cola. It all looks strange to be taken care of by unfamiliar faces, but heh, at this point I know my chances of doing great have dissipated so why not?  I finish the two pieces of cake on top of the two drinks, ask if I’m allright to go, get a tap in a back and there I go, hoping to the lakes.

At this point, we are less than half way from the finish.The path is made of different types of rocks, big ones, tiny ones, shiny ones, by then the sun is up, kissing my face and making the lakes shine so softly. I hear a voice, so I decide to follow while searching for the tiny flags put to guide us in between these rocks. But the voice is now behind me, shoot! Did I get it wrong? No here’s another small flag and the descent to the GrandMaison Barrage. The voice had it wrong and looks moody. I attempted to cheer the voice up while trying hard to slalom between rocks and high grass. We reach Col du Couard and a massive torrent. The path is now made just of high grass and funny looking floor leafs.The voice and I missed the flag leading to an “easy” passage of the torrent so we end up finding our own pass. It is quite exhilarating to be in the middle of a torrent, hoping not to fall and toboggan slide the rest of the way while trying to reassure the voice! The voice belongs to a 64 years old kind gentleman,  after we cross one, we both struggled to pass the other massive torrent and our butts are now all wet, but heh! It’s refreshing and feels so good on the legs and at least...we didn't toboggan slide!
We reach the “dangerous” passage leading to the Barrage, it is made of sliddy rocks and dirt. On one side you have your shoulders brushing the cliff, on the other side, your feets are struggling to not go down this "nice" deep slid ( I didn't take a picture, in case you suffer from vertigo!)  We decide to walk it and stay together until one of us has enough and run. It’s nice to have a bit of company. He tells me to eat, so I obediently do so as I realise that I am actually feeling better since the “forced gluttony” of LacBlanc PC.We talk about my island, about trail and soon enough we reach the road leading to the Col de la Croix de Fer. The road is a shallow ascent which everyone seemed to be walking it. Stubborn as I am, I ran it until I couldn't anymore and decided to hop/walk until the CP, leaving the gentleman behind. There I find out that we are now more than half way, 43 Km and there is only 20 kms to go. Some grumpy runners moan about it and so in an attempt to cheer them up I decide to sing a kiddy french song about kilometres, which makes everyone laugh and give me the opportunity to get ahead of them hihi! I run the piste until I see this massive ascent, its HUGE! I can’t even see the end of it! My my! I look back looking for the grumpy runners 1 &2 wondering if they feel the same, I see their face and give them a big encouraging smile and start the long ascent to Glacier de l’Etendard. The path looks like a big rock which had his heart  broken into pieces and laid there. I can feel the pain but the smiles of tourists and encouraging comments they give makes me want to just carry on. So I pass the refuge de l’Etendard after eating some nice “chouquettes” from there, and begin another dreadful shallow ascent to the Glacier. At this point, I'm running with Benoit, a cool dude from Belgium but living in Mick's hometown. From there, we can see on the other side of the lake (le Lac Blanc) other runners going towards Saint Sorlin.
It makes me think that we are almost done and so I start running thinking that soon after we reach the end of the lake, we are going to the finish line. But I'm sooooo wrong! I should have really study the profile because not only we reach the end of the lake, and there is no turning point, but we are climbing towards a glacier! This affect my poor mind, and at this point, I just don't want to run anymore!Benoit tells me to eat, that he had noticed that I haven't had any proper fuel since the HUGE ascent, so I eat half of my Cliff Bar while I let Benoit disappear in the horizon. Where is the darn turning point? By the time I finish eating, I reach a big rock in the middle of nowhere, there is a control point with a dad and kid, they are telling me that this is the turning point and I don't have much left to do. It doesn't make me feel better because we are carrying on going up and I wonder how far do I need to go on before I reach the point where I saw the other ones...why do the mind pay attention to these types of details?! Why do

I care so much about not being where I wanted to be?! I pass a cute couple and asked them if they are going to Saint Sorlin, they laugh and say that's too far away for them to consider...I smile and think, it can't be, I only had 20 kilometres to go...10 kilometres ago...right? But the energy of the bar start to kick in and because I'm not sure of where I am on this trail, I start to run and reach a pretty cool snowy path, so I do the "Mont Blanc slide"( butt slide) and feel much better. The path is now the one I had seen when I was on the other side of the lake, it's a one track going up towards l'Aiguille Rouge. I can feel the downhill to Saint Sorlin coming up, so I run towards it, passing more tourists puzzled to see me and telling me I'm the first lady. Hahaha! no I say, I'm the last one with a big smile of my face. Who cares right? the scenery is so nice and the people so great, why should we care which place we finish? So I go down on the ski slope, killing my knees with wishing-my jumps-were-gracious thoughts but knowing that I must look like an elephant trying to ballet dance. I reach another control point, the man tells me that I have 1.5 km of piste left and then I'll reach the field path to the finish line. I'm relieved, I'm almost there. I do the 1.5 km very quickly as there is nothing to see, and reach the field path  but wait! what's this?...too late, in front of me was an electrical wire for the cows, but I didn't see it and tangled myself till it broke and have my face laid flat on the ground (no cow poo) !!! Ooops sorry farmer! I get up, brush off the dirt and blood and wonder how the other runners managed to see this thing! At least the people after me won't have to worry about it! right? So I carry on the downhill, the path changes from field, to road, to forest trail, to field again in the space of 4 kilometres, it's amazing! I can't believe my eyes, my feet can't have enough of it, I want more. It's funny how knowing you are on the end of the line make running easier and your spirit high, 2 small kids start running with me to the end of a road and I'm feeling grateful to be living a moment like that. I reach another downhill cowfield wondering where is the finish line when it suddently turn and there it is: the finish line with everyone looking and the microphone blaring my name. I feel like a superstar ;) and I thank everyone for cheering up so loud. I can't believe it, 11:20 and some seconds ago I was a zombie searching for sunlight, I now feel like a soldier at the end of the battle cheering for every moment of the way. 
Writing the panic button entry had made me reflect on mind over body. Writing this one made me realise, that fuel plays such an important part and in this equation of mind over body that I'm really grateful to have had all of the volunteers and other runners around me to tell me to eat as without them, I would still be a zombie stuck in one of the CPs!
11hours 40 mins and some seconds, 63km and 4100m of ascent, not bad for a sunday run ;)