Finding 'Happy' on the Chilterns

Having run from Overton Hill to Goring at Easter I'd always intended to go back and finish off The Ridgeway at some point, though in my mind it had now moved to a weekend next year, when I'm fitter. On Wednesday this week I thought "bugger it, I need a break from the madness, I'm doing it" so I booked a room in Wendover for Saturday night and train tickets. Didn't really have time for prep, just a quick look at distances and a rough plan. 

Come Saturday morning my alarm clock got laughed at when it started it's racket at 6am. It got laughed at for a few hours, with the result that I set off to Goring much later than planned.  By the time I got off the train in G&S I realised that I might have to play it by ear with regards to where I stopped running for the night.  

Running along beside the river was pleasant enough - rivers and flat don't really rock my boat though. Then I came to a field full of cows. Right across where I had to run. Jesus wept. A man had already gone through with his dog so I was thinking 'shit they're going to be alert now'.  But there was nowhere else to go, the river was on my left and more fields of cows to the right.  So I walked through them, heart in my mouth.  Two of the bastards were over on the left right beside the river so I couldn't keep on that edge, I had to go between them.  I've never been so happy to reach a gate.  Where I stopped to take a photo and start breathing again.  

I'd had a good look at the map on the way up (and actually measured distances!) so I knew when I should be hitting South Stoke, North Stoke, turning east etc.

  

Grim's Ditch was a bit disappointing to start with, the name conjures up images that reality just didn't deliver.  Again, pleasant but not earthshattering. 

This is more like it! 

After a while it turned into the kind of terrain I was hoping for ^^^

It was surprisingly humid so I was glad to fill up my bottles at Grimsdyke Cottage, a litre gone in just 8 or so miles. I'd met a couple of dog walkers along the way but other than that it was quite deserted. 

Nuffield Golf Course was a mare!!!  I ran in, saw a sign for the Ridgeway pointing left across what looked like a practice green, so off I went. Got to the edge of that and really could not see a way through the brambles etc. Shit. So I went back to the club house.  The map seemed to indicate to take a tight left and I'd seen a couple of hikers stopping there, consulting their map and going down the path, so I went that way.

Came out on a road. Ok, now cross and look for the Ridgeway sign.  Hmmm. The two hikers were up the road a bit so I ran up to them and asked if they were going the same way.  They were.  A lovely young Dutch couple who were hiking to Watlington.  The guy asked if I had ALL my stuff for 2 days in the S-lab??!!  He had to take it to feel the weight lol.  We had a nice chat while wandering around the poxy golf course trying to find the right path. Anyway, the least said about Nuffield the better. Never trust a golfer who gives you directions, suffice it to say that much. We eventually found the way and I left them to it as I needed to get a move on.

A few nice ups and downs through crop fields ensued.  A little bit of road, some mini hills and onto Swan's Way. Pfft. Running on a trail between two ditches of bushes/trees that were so thick you couldn't see any scenery. It was pretty uninspiring.  And straggly.  Not pretty at all. I met a lady walker and I thought well I'm not going to get to Wendover before darkness falls and I sure as f*** don't want to be running through this on my own in the dark (it didn't feel very friendly) so I'll find out from her where's the best place to stop.

Jaysus. "I walked from Ivinghoe Beacon to Watlington once. It was soul destroying".  After a minute I was trying to end the conversation and politely leave!  I asked her about Chinnor, would I be able to get a cab to Wendover from there?  "The path is awful, it's horrible, there's nothing there".  Omg. Managed to get away and upped the speed!  I was very low on water by now so I decided to drop down into Watlington and get to the hotel for an early dinner and night.  On the way I asked a man if I'd be able to get a cab in Watlington. "Ohhhh, no, there's nothing there. You might get a bus. But it's a Saturday. So probably not".  He had hairs growing from the top of his nose. He wasn't old enough to have an excuse for that!  I was expecting his next line to be "we only have local shops for local people".  Fuck me they're a miserable bunch around there!

So I went back up onto the Ridgeway and decided to head for Chinnor come what may. 

Taken at one of the rare open spots along here

Looking at the map I noticed that Lewknor had a PUB symbol, woohey, civilisation.  Decision made, drop down into Lewknor and take it from there.  The landlady called a cab for me and I had a pint of cider while I waited. 20.5 miles run, longest run since June, can't complain about that!

Got to Wendover, had a pint, had a shower, had some dinner, another pint and up to bed. I was in two minds about what to do next - get a cab back to Lewknor in the morning and carry on from there, or start on Sunday from Wendover.  Working out the price per mile that going back to Lewknor would cost me made the decision fairly easy!  It had been a nice day of running and fresh air but missing out on running through a quarry and Chequers (where I'd probably get arrested for peeing in his garden) wasn't going to upset me much in the long run.

Had a nice sleep and then woke up around 8 on Sunday morning.  A full cooked vegetarian minus the sausage, boom, set me up nicely for the day.  The receptionist told me a shortcut to get onto the Ridgeway rather than strictly following the map. Jaysus. Put me in the middle of houses and alleyways and shite like that and I'm buggered, I had the compass out twice just to get out of town!  But I was going the right way after all and soon was out in the countryside again. 

I met a lovely blonde lady runner along here, in her 60s, fab pink top, cheery hellos - how else would you want to start a run on a Sunday morning :-) 

Today (Sunday) was definitely my favourite of the two. Where Saturday disappointed Sunday more than made up for it. The woods on Cock's Hill were gorgeous.  And Uphill was like running through light green gossamer threads.  Beautiful. Calming. Relaxing. 

Met a few mountain bikers speeding down this bit, it did look like good fun. I was going uphill though. It felt like being in the Lord of the Rings. Loved this part. I think the magic started to happen from here. 

Had to do a bit of road running through Hastoe but it was raining so that made it ok :-)  And Tring Park, what a lovely place.  Met lots of walkers here, and all friendly.  

A bit more running down the sides of fields now on the way to Tring station, nothing special but it was downhill so I got through quickly. 

Ran over this bridge then realised what it was so went back to take a photo. It's the only way I'll be running anywhere near it!  

Grand Union Canal 

Past Tring station and up onto one of the best sections of the entire run. More lovely uphill forests and a nature reserve. I'd seen lots of butterflies and a few rabbits but very little other wildlife until here.  

 

Then 3 deer ran across my path, so quickly and ethereally I gasped aloud.  God it was beautiful up there. Running through those woods I really started to feel the history of the Ridgeway again. I'd felt it before in Uffington, awe inspiring stuff, and now I felt how the Roman Centurions might have felt all those centuries ago marching from place to place. Didn't think it could get much better than this. 

Until I came out onto Pitstone Hill. You know when somewhere just takes your breath away? This was that place. Looking at my photos now they just don't, they can't, convey what it was like, you have to be there. It was so amazing. 

I was blown away by now, I'd had my camera in my hand for the last few miles as there was no point putting it back in my pack only to have to stop and take it out again. And then into the final couple of miles, I really didn't want it to end, but at least I was going to be running back this way to get to Tring station and there were some fab downhills through the woods to look forward to. 

Going towards Incombe Hole there were more feckin cows in a field to pass, but these guys were all lying down and looked pretty chilled. I let a walker run the gauntlet first!

   

Up Steps Hill, through some narrow trails surrounded by gorse and wildflowers and scrub. Perfect.

And finally, destination reached. I won't lie, it was emotional. I don't even care that I can't say I've run every inch of the Ridgeway, I've run 88 miles on or around it, and definitely got to see the best parts. Yesterday was nice, not a stretch I'd bother doing again in itself, but it got me to today and today has been fantastic. And when I'm feeling stressed or can't get out for a decent run I'll just look back on this and feel it all again

Robin Hood, Robin Hood, riding through the glen....

A very different race this, second time around....

May 11th 2013, first ultra, first trail race, first big race without any friends or family around. Nervously arriving at Race HQ at 7am and entering a hall full of hardened experienced ultra runners talking about the Fellsman and Hardmoors and all of these other races that I'd only read about in magazines and to me at the time seemed way beyond anything I'd ever do. 

May 11th 2014, a few races later, rocked up, looked around, loads of friendly faces, runners.  Simple as that.  Sat down, looked through the maps etc again and chatted to the runners around me.  Turned out the guy sitting beside me had read my race report from last year.  So, bearing that in mind, I'll try to watch my language on this one :-) 

We didn't have race bibs this year, which was a pity as I like to keep them, instead we got a nifty wrist tag thing which was swiped at each CP.  I wore mine till this evening (2 days later) as I didn't want to cut through it, but I eventually managed to stretch the ribbon a bit and get it over my hand.  I'll keep it in lieu of a bib.  And maybe wear it at weekends lol. 

Quick race briefing and off we went at 8am into the rain.  The first couple of miles were an out and back narrow sandy trail.  Same as last year I went out a bit too quick, but it felt ok so I went with it.

Race Prep

A few miles of trails and running through woods and fields, the rain had stopped and it was feeling quite warm so I took off my smock.  Had a real high at around the 10k mark, one of those raise your arms in the air and whoop moments.  CP1 was at 8.2 miles, I got here half an hour ahead of the time I'd estimated beforehand, but felt good so wasn't too worried. I stopped and got busy sending a text, one of the volunteers asked "are you sending an email?!".  "Nah, gotta write my blog" says I.  I think he believed me :-)  Filled the water bottles up, bemoaned a chipped nail and off I went again.  

Next CP was 10 miles away. I'd been very disappointed to hear from my wingman Ian a few days before that he was injured and would have to pull out of the race.  I realised that today was going to be a tough one mentally if I'd to run alone for the whole 40 miles but with such a small field it was more than likely and so I'd just have to MTFU and get on with it.  

  

Made my way to the infamous turn off in the vicinity of the Major Oak, where last year I'd diverted to take a photo and disoriented myself completely.  This year I just said "yeah Tree I've been there, got the photo, laters" and successfully found the right path.   

I knew that it was a pretty straightforward run for a few miles now to the next marker so my plan was to just zone out here and relax and run for a while without having to check anything.  Grand, till a spider dropped on me from the sky and shocked my bladder into overdrive.  Bastard.  Road on the other side of the hedge and a wire fence and trees to the other side.  Fuck it, I needed to go. So I went.  Luckily no-one came along. I met a dog walker shortly afterwards. He'll never know what he missed! 

Another high running through some truly lovely woods, happily going along thinking ooh how lucky am I to be here doing this.....

... Mile 15 suddenly felt sick as an effing pig. It was a bit humid but I hadn't a headache, it didn't feel like the overheating type sickness I'd had at SDW.  Just a "I'm going to puke now" feeling.  That was minging, so I decided to walk for a bit till it passed.  Took out my bag of crisps but they didn't help. Mile 16 "Wish you were here" started on the iPod and I burst into tears.  Christ Almighty. The sickness eased off a bit so I started running again.  Took a wrong turn, realised fairly quickly, luckily, and turned back. 

Arrived at CP2, which was CP1 approached from a different direction. I'd to whack more tape on the knee at this point as it was being a gimp so I asked the lady to fill my bottles while I did that.  Ate some banana and off I went, 6 miles to the next CP and the luxury of a real indoors toilet woohoo.  I think it was along here there was quite a stretch of country road, which fucked me off as I really didn't feel like bloody road running.  A man strimming a hedge or doing something grassy at the other side of the road said hello and then asked me about the race, I was quite happy to stop for a bit and take a break from running on this poxy road. His cousins are Irish. I don't remember how that came up.

So a bit more road type crap and then back on trails and I was at the halfway point :-)  and then you'd to cross a lane and go onto a track to the side of a cottage. Got there and there were a few cottages going up the side of a hill. Buggered if I could remember which cottage to go to the side of so I decided I better run up the hill and check them all. Having done that the first one seemed the most likely culprit and, as I was deciding to go that way, another runner came along and confirmed that this was the one.  

Ah, the lovely Rachel, within a few sentences she'd cursed several times and I knew we were going to get along.  She appeared at just the right time too as I was fucked off with how much the knee was already aching so the distraction of having another human being around was marvellous.  

Cresswell Crags 

So we ran and chatted and got to CP3.  Rachel's parents and husband were driving around in support, we used the luxury loos at Cresswell Crags then had a quick catch up. Rachel's Mum gave me a delicious cakepop, as I was eating it a quarter fell off onto the ground, "5 second rule!!!" shouted Rachel so I grabbed it up again. Would've been a sin to waste it.  Changed my socks here, they were pretty damp and muddy, and off we went. 

Blair Witch Tree

6 or so miles later Rachel announced she'd now done her furthest distance ever, which quite surprised me as she seemed very calm and experienced at this lark.  Underfoot was muddy, boggy and wet, in varying degrees.  I managed to sink into a few boggy bits so the change of socks was redundant quite quickly. Ah well.  Got to the start of Limetree Avenue, which I had not been looking forward to at all, and this year it was 2 miles instead of 1, so double the fucking grim. 

Limetree Avenue - looks pretty doesn't it.  Nah. It's a bastard.

And Ian yes it wasn't just us last year, it was neverending and shite this year too!  Got off it eventually thank God.  I'd another hummus wrap and very shortly afterwards felt sick again.  I do have to wonder if it was the hummus. Never been a problem before but who knows.  

At this point I was running like an automaton, just get me to the fucking CP and get me some Cola, some banana, anything to make this feeling go away.  Rachel's Mum came along the trail a bit to meet us, couldn't even talk to the poor woman, good thing Rachel was still upbeat and smiley.  Got swiped at the CP then went off into a corner to puke.  Didn't eat anything there.  Got the water bottles filled up, we crossed the road and set off again.  

We were both tiring now, "fuck the trees, fuck the mud, fuck the woods and fuck Robin Hood" was the general feeling and we did shout some of that aloud, which made us laugh.  Thank God I had company during those last 10 miles especially, because all I really wanted to do was vomit and have a nap, whereas the sight of Rachel soldiering on made me soldier on.  Got sick again in a field, sorry Rachel for subjecting you to that, and then took a bastard wrong turn or missed a turn or did something wrong anyway along here again. We got ourselves back on track after a bit of faffing through fields and eventually met up with Rachel's family at the point they'd arranged to see her, so that was pretty nice. Rachel the little angel had Kendal mint cake in her pack, which was an absolute godsend as I'd been wishing for a mint or anything to clean my mouth out with, I couldn't have been happier if she'd pulled out a toothbrush and toothpaste on the trail!  

Another 2 or was it 3 miles, and we were in the village and on the home stretch.  Ah the joy of taking that final left turn and seeing the finish!  Straight into the Ladies for another vom, ridiculous behaviour.  Then I collected my finisher's mug and sat down to have pie and peas with the gang. 

Got a lift back to the Travelodge with Rachel's parents and then proceeded to start refuelling till I had the energy to shower  :-)   I was glad to get to the end, I won't deny, it was tougher than I had expected it to be, but still a great day overall. 

Hadn't been sure what to wear shoewise as the feet have taken a battering over the last month, I went with TNF shoes pretty much straight out of the box, they'd only had 15 miles done on them the previous Monday, so I was happy with how they performed on the various surfaces.  

Still there after 5 weeks so I guess I better trim it :p 

And there you have it.  Had a good night's sleep and came back to London this afternoon. Am pretty tired and the feet are swelling now, they seem to be ok for 24 hours and then start ballooning.  Gobshites.  But hey ho.  I'll wear trousers and wide shoes to work tomorrow! 

This race has shown me I definitely need to make more of an effort get the knee fixed, even if it means rethinking my summer schedule.  It's been dragging on now since the end of November, which is just plain stupid.  Physio told me on Friday I'm delaying recovery by constantly loading and fatiguing it but she's not about to tell me to stop running completely as I'd lose my marbles, so I just have to keep on with the rehab stuff.  Nah, I can't keep on with the 'just get to the start line in one piece and then get through the race with brute determination' mentality I've adopted, I'm not doing myself any favours. I need to train a lot more and a lot harder and I know what I need to do to get there. Eurgh.   

Fuck, enough whinging, end on a high note quick lol.... 

I'd a great time overall, glad I went back to do this race on my ultra birthday, it's brought the first year round in a nice circle.   I had a lot of laughs and some very good high points, great company and even more lessons learned.  Roll on the next one!  

A Ridgeaway a Ridgeaway

So, this was going to be written on Bank Holiday Monday, full of running endorphins and the joys of Spring and love for all mankind and relatively swear free. It's Easter Sunday (well it was when I started writing), things didn't go to plan, so bollocks to that :-) 

A few weeks ago I realised I'd be at a loose end at Easter, so rather than waste the four days of freedom by sleeping and drinking and being bored in London I thought I'd see if I could go off somewhere and run for a few days.  The National Trails website was my first port of call, and The Ridgeway looked good.  A quick conversation with Mark Hines, an email from Alastair Humphreys entitled "Commit to Something. Put Your Balls on the Line. Then Figure it Out", which I took as a sign, some logistics (leg planning, booking tickets and B&Bs), getting the relevant Harveys map and I had a plan - me, 87 miles, Friday-Sunday (or Monday depending on events), job's a good un. 

It all happened and it's all true, just not necessarily in strict chronological order .....

Day 1 - Avebury to Woolstone 27.5 miles 

Friday morning I took a train to Swindon, hung around for a bit in the lovely smells-of-wee bus station, got a bus to Avebury and was so busy taking a photo of my S-lab (yep) that I almost missed my stop.  Impressed though that I got everything I needed for 3-4 days into it (spare tee, knickers, socks, sports bra, headtorch, Minimus, waterproof trousers for the forecasted miserable rain on Sunday, sunblock for the forecasted sunshine before said miserable, first aid odds n'ends, and various other things), I hereby rename her The Tardis.   

Arrived in Avebury and spent ages there walking around the circle, taking photos and generally faffing :-) Eventually set off on the Herepath, diverted after Manor Farm onto a byway and thus over to the actual start of The Ridgeway at Overton Hill.  I started at Avebury because it was easier to get to via public transport, the alternative was to come via Marlborough and then run along a busy road.   

Once I got down to the proper start I got a nice walker to take this photo, with the sole intention of having a matching one at Ivinghoe Beacon on Sunday/Monday.

The scenery around here really is beautiful. I was stopping to take so many photos it just got silly. But hey, my weekend, my mini break, my run/training/time on feet, I didn't beat myself up too much! All I had to do today was get to Woolstone, 27 or so miles, how bloody luxurious and freeing is that to say!  

I thought the Harveys SDW map was a bit meh, but their Ridgeway one is brilliant. Maybe it's because there are more 'memorable' features, it was so easy to break down the run into smaller sections according to which feature was coming up. I'm also so glad I started at this western end as I love prehistoric things and was totally spoiled on this trip.  I need to go back soon, I can feel it as I type.  But anyway...

A white horse is carved somewhere into the hillside along Hackpen Hill, it wasn't visible from where I was running however and as I'll do the White Horse trail at another point I decided to save it for then.

Barbury Castle, impressive.  More tourists here, carparks nearby. I was aiming for the water tap mentioned on the Harveys map, but when I got to said bungalow it was being demolished/rebuilt?  It was a building site anyhow so no go. Noticed this at a couple of points, another being at Ilsley Barn Farm, the stand was there but the tap had been removed.  Message - don't rely solely on the mapped water sources. The toilets were very welcome though.  There was an icecream van in the carpark so I decided to buy water from there and to stop for lunch.  Once I stopped moving it was bloody cold in that wind, the Sonic went on, as did the Salomon mitts. Feckin great things, they really proved their worth this weekend, a good buy.  Lunch was a Rice Krispie bar and a strawberry ice lolly.  Yep, wtf. Holiday brain. 

Then went on to Smeathe's Ridge.  Lots of horse gallops around here so good to see a change from sheep and cows. 

Running along the lane below was so pretty, the blossoms were blowing off the trees and with the chalk surface it looked like snow.  Only place I appreciated the surface though, the stones in other places were total fuckers.

Took a break and sat for a while when I came across this memorial bench.  We have these plaques on the Heath but coming across one in the middle of nowhere really hit me. These things floor me every time.

Passed Ogbourne St George, passed Southend, missed the tap on the cottage wall - it wasn't immediately obvious and I didn't feel comfortable gawping at someone's house. I had enough water still from the ice cream van anyhow.  Saw these fuckers though, they all turned around and stared at me as I ran past. So I took their photo and thought "ha, you'll be on a plate soon, stare then :p " 

Along from here the track split in 3, there was a sign for cycle paths but none for the Ridgeway. I'd read in a guide about an old railway abutment or something but it took a couple of goes to realise that 2 brick walls qualified as such.  Luckily I'd already gotten the compass out to decide on my direction.  Thanks to MH for the initial lessons, and then Stu for the navigation course (Contours and Cairns), best thing I've paid out for this year for sure!  There were a few times on this run where I'd have been fairly fucked without knowing how to use the map and compass.  Highly recommend learning how to use them, the freedom it gives you is amazing. 

Another pig farm!!  Have never seen one in my life and now I've seen two.  This one made me laugh aloud. I was running along a narrow path between trees, some guide book had said there'd be a pig farm somewhere but that it tended to migrate so it could be anywhere along a certain stretch.  First I knew of it was the sound of barking/snorting.  I looked through the trees and saw 2 fields full of pigs and piglets running around.  No smell though thank God. I'm sure two of them were shagging, but I think my laughter put them off. 

By the time I was approaching Waylands Smithy I was getting a bit tired and hungry.  There isn't anywhere up here to get food, unless you want to divert down a way off the path and then climb back up, so I was just eating those Rice Krispie things.  Good for a few hours but not really enough for a longer run.  But that's ok, this whole thing was an experiment.  Glad I did go to look at it though, it's lovely. Also glad it wasn't dark, it would've been properly spooky. 

Then it was just a couple of miles till I reached the back end of Uffington/Dragon Hill.  Looking at this I realised that the route I'd planned to take involved climbing up over the hill and then down and over to my B&B in Woolstone.  Bollocks to that. A quick check of the map and I realised I could hang north and get there with less hilly stuff.  All this was done with the next day's task of 36 miles in mind.  On the way I saw the White Horse of Uffington and realised that to be seen properly it does need to be seen from the air. Good decision not to bother climbing up and over it then! So, a lovely downhill and in to Woolstone, job done. Arrived at the White Horse Inn shortly thereafter. Highly recommend it.  Showered, washed my clothes in the basin, stuck them on a rad, had a few pints and a tasty dinner then off to bed. 

Day 2 - Woolstone to Watlington 36 miles*

*the intended itinerary 

In the morning the friendly Irish landlord commented on my breakfast choice "I'd say you're fairly unique then, a vegetarian Irishwoman that likes running more than drinking".  If he could see me now!  Filled my face with a full English cooked vegetarian (breakfast) and set off again.  

It was around 9.30am but there wasn't a soul around.  Saying hello to a runner and then a baby rabbit was it, and that was just grand. Went along the road for a bit then onto a footpath to make my way up onto the Ridgeway.  Took a bearing at a fence as the path wasn't marked and I couldn't see the way clearly and just felt like getting the compass out ;-)   And so then I was on Dragon Hill. This stands as one of my favourite parts of the whole thing.  The atmosphere was amazing.  And the scenery breathtaking.  The photos just can't do it justice. 

As I was climbing up that hill in the photo above I realised there was a bird of prey above me. I squealed, first bird of prey I've ever seen in the wild, how bloody awesome is that!!!  Then I realised he was hovering above me, and following me, and I thought oh f*cking hell is my cap bothering him? so I RAN.  That was funny. 

Tried to get some shots of the birds but it wasn't easy, I really wanted to get one massive guy who kept flying on from fencepost to fencepost as I got nearer, but in the end I gave up and just watched him instead. 

Did some FB posts, and then back onto the Ridgeway. In the next half hour I saw one runner, one dog walker and one horse rider.  The horse rider asked where I was going and said "Wow, good luck".  At the time I smiled, safe in my confidence that I'd get there.  

Miles 1-6ish lovely scenery, happy, a bit more mud and grass today rather than hard stony stuff, which was a relief, my feet were burning like bastards from the day before and a big sole blister from 2 weeks previous had resurfaced.   

Thanks to the Harvey map there were some things to watch out for along here. CPs break down distances in a race and features do the same in real life. And I got in great practice reading contours and doing all of that other nav stuff I was taught.  Nothing like getting out there and doing it. 

Nice to see things like this along the way, I like to think of people thinking of strangers on their journey.  No idea who Peter Wren was but I flattened down the nettles and thanked him for the water.

A bit later on I'm running along this track when suddenly my left foot felt like it was being crushed in a vice. WTF.  First reaction was to GASP, curse, gasp, curse, and then loosen my shoelaces.  You never know, sometimes it's the simplest things. Even though my shoes were already 1.5 sizes bigger - ultra 'swollen feet' size.  Made a difference for about 10 seconds then the pain was the same again. Shit, that didn't work. Didn't much help that the track now turned into one of those poxy farm concrete things so I was thinking "hmm, maybe I'm just in a bad mood and blowing this out of proportion".  Eventually found a spot in the ditch that wasn't full of nettles and went for a wee.  The thought of some poor farmer seeing my bare arse shining out at him cheered me up for a bit. 

So it went on. Wasn't mad about this bit, but I think that was largely down to the foot pain. When it was closed in and woody I wanted open spaces.  When I got open spaces I wanted trees. I was in a fucker of a mood.  Tried to distract myself with stuff, by mile 11 I thought fuck I need to do something about this, maybe I'm in a 'mile 12 slump' early and I can snap out again. So I sat on a rock, took off my shoe and sock, took out the Boots Freeze spray from the Tardis and sprayed the foot. Then went on FB for a bit.  Carried on for a bit more but really couldn't count this as running now.  More of a Quasimodo type shuffle with the pain getting worse. 

It didn't help that Didcot power station (as I've since learned) was sitting to my left hand side and just would not fuck off. For miles and miles and miles. 

This monument was funny.  A couple of teenaged mountain bikers were sitting on the steps. I walked around reading the script on the monument and then as I was walking down the steps saying "Ow" one of them had arisen and was also walking down the steps saying "Ow".  

No photos for this next part, it really was a trudge of misery and I couldn't be arsed to look around. By mile 15-16 I'd texted two of my mates to say look I've 20 miles to go to get to the end of this stage and I can barely walk, I'm thinking of dropping now. I wasn't looking for reassurance or a boost, just some kind of human contact.  They both recommended getting to civilisation, having a sit down and some food and having a look at the foot. I'd already looked at it though, there was no outward sign of anything wrong, just this feeling of being crushed. All I can think is that by avoiding landing on the heel since the day before I'd put too much impact on the forefoot.  

Goring was the nearest town,  6 miles away.  I thought "ok, I can manage that, an hour, I can cope".  Didn't think about the fact I was moving like a frickin snail though did I. After AGES I saw marshalls for a race alongside a sign saying it was 4 miles to Goring. What the fucking fuck??? I'd just walked at least 4 miles surely :p  Looked at the Garmin.  20 min/mile.  Jesus. I was never going to get there.  

I was climbing up a chalk trail at this point.  With runners coming down towards me.  This was a lovely lift, everyone smiled and said hey, just the exact time that I needed to see friendly faces.  Went on and on a bit more, eventually got to a sign saying Overton Hill was 44 miles or whatever that way, I thought yeah I know, I came from there, and a sign saying Ivinghoe Beacon that way blah blah miles and I thought fuck off don't rub it in that I can't finish what I set out to do :p  I tried running a few times but after a couple of feet it was hopeless.  

Got to a tarmac road, God forgive me but it was bloody lovely to walk on something soft and smooth. More runners here.  One guy stopped to chat, I asked what race they were doing and found out it was the Compton 40 and he was on mile 32.  We spoke a bit about Centurion, he's doing the Winter 100, I expressed admiration for that, he said well done for the half Ridgeway and bad luck for the foot, and told me how to get to the train station, and we parted ways.

That last 2 miles into Goring was fucking slow and painful and endless.  Eventually got there, waited for a train for 15 minutes or so, changed at Reading, changed at Paddington, got 3 Tubes, bought some beer and got home. 

Very disappointed to have had to stop halfway, I had every confidence I'd do it but the foot fucked it up. If my right leg was a man I'd marry it. Works hard, does what I ask of it, never lets me down, will go on forever etc etc, whereas the left is a complete and utter attention seeking twonk.  Hmmm, I'm seeing parallels.  Nevermind. When I can walk on it properly I guess I need to get down the gym and do some proper fucking rehab.  Hopefully I can run within the next week or I will be demonic. 

But, as an ending point, go and run on the Ridgeway, it is AWESOME!!! I'll be back to finish the other half, do the Race to the Stones but probably on my own time as the entry fee is ridiculous imo, do the whole thing again, and maybe in a couple/three years do the Challenge.  

Great weekend, hope the injury fucks off sharpish, next ultra is in 3 weeks so I had to be sensible and think of that rather than be a martyr for the cause and impress nobody by limping another 20 miles lol.   Get out  there and explore, it's the way forward :-)