Brighton Marathon: The Unlikely Road To The Satisfaction of Socks & Sandals

Marathon running is more of an exercise for the mind than the body. Making your body run 26.2 miles in one go without stopping is tiring work, don’t get me wrong. The real task though is how much can you endure on the day? How much can you dig deep and keep going when the sweeper bus stops to ask if you want to climb aboard the not-so-fun bus. Through the window you can see tired broken people, tears, distant stares and silver blankets prematurely adorned.

You may have seen in the media recently the upset caused by London Marathon for the 7:30 pacer and her fellow backpackers, recruits on the day to finish the route in a requested time frame – and even so, they received hurtful words, and constant goading for 26.2 miles. Like I said, a marathon is a mental game of keeping going enough as it is, so for the people who held their chins up and refused to give in – fucking well done! I was offered aboard the sweeper bus three times, on the last coming dangerously close to caving.

It has now been a while since I ran Brighton, fully recovered and got back into the swing of normality without marathon madness, and had time to reflect on what went better than last year, not so much and lessons learned. I got a 20 minute PB on London last year. Brighton is not an overall PB kind of course; it’s hilly, windy, bleak, lonely, miserable and undulating in the most undulating sense of the word undulating. Did I mention it was uncomfortably undulating? I got a PB for half marathon distance, which now stands at a 2:51:44 according to my Garmin.

When Dad and I crossed the start line we were amongst the final handful at the back of the pack, even further back than Dave the Running Samaritans Phone. The course doubles back on itself a lot, which can be motivating and soul destroying in equal capacities. Some times it gave me the illusion that people were not all that far ahead so keep running and that’ll be you on the other side of the road soon. In the same breath, seeing people running the final kilometres of the race as I was just crossing halfway was a very bitter moment for me.

For the first few miles dad and I took it in turns to over take one another, back and to back and to. I took off. (This sounds much faster than it really was.) We thought we had said our goodbyes for the rest of the course, until I stopped for a toilet break. This is all well and good except there was a few of us, and as I waited my dad caught up to me. At the time this was a relief because his phone had pocket dialled me a number of times. I had phoned him back to no answer and consequentially in true anxiety girl style, I jumped to worrisome conclusions of heart attacks, rolled ankles and muscle cramps. He catches up to me and he’s just fine. His version of events is that I keep calling him. He had no idea he’d been phoning me so all was well. Not far behind my Dad though was the sweeper vehicle.

The sweeper vehicle is not for road sweeping; it is for people sweeping. Slow people sweeping, injured people sweeping, poorly people sweeping, the sweeper bus of broken hopes and dreams chased me from that moment in the race right until the end, threatening to gobble me up in a sorry mess. This shit me up. I won’t lie. So I bloody well got a wiggle and a wriggle on to try and make some ground on the sweeper bus of broken people.

With my London Marathon experience having been such a dreamboat, I do wonder if perhaps Brighton was a bit miserable because I had a normal marathon experience. When you hear about people with Bipolar, a classic “mania story” is of someone running a marathon without training. I am by no means special, others have done it including Jedward (way to put myself down there), and I”m sure many other idiots like myself. I’m not sure everyone who commits to such an act of stupidity however has such an epic day out with it. The power station miles in particular were just horrible.

Each time I was running towards the town centre I realised that the view and sightings of Brighton pier were very much deceiving in how close I really was, or was not to the half way point, and on the way back in from the other side, from the finish line. The second half of the race has since been very much talked about as being a wind tunnel of misery amongst fellow Brighton runners on social media. The power station miles provided very little to look at and very much to overthink about, like the pain emanating from my lower half of my body. It was grey. It was cold. It felt more like the march of the hobbling zombies than a marathon at this point. Eventually, the 23 mile marker came and i could finally, finally say to myself “it’s just a park run to go”. It was around this point when i was kidding myself that I saw my Dad on course for the last time before the end. Up until this point, every time we had seen each other we high fived, did a thumbs up and beamed a smile at one another, evidently pleased with the results of our high hopes and poor training. Not this time; I needed a hug.

Just passed 23 miles I could see the pier in the distance, which signified the finish line on the horizon, much like a mirage in a desert, but it wasn’t sunny or sandy, it was grey and concrete. The joy soon wore off as the sighting became a torturous tantaliser of the end that never seemed to come. I kept going and kept going, catching up to the team pushing a dying man in a wheelchair, and eventually saw a friendly face. Jarnail from Chasing Lights was cheering and despite having not seen him for months I dramatically threw myself at him for a hug, and to snatch a brief moment of less gravity on my feet. He ran the remainder with me until he was ushered off the course. It really helped me to have that someone running with me. No amount of sugar, or electrolytes, or sports drinks could have rivalled the support of finding a friendly face in the crowd who is willing to jog along side you. Then another friendly face shouted me, my friend Maryke then joined us too, and then another, Elle. Then the finish line set up came into view, and I could not have been happier tho see the finish I’d been so patiently awaiting to arrive on the horizon since mile 23.

As soon as I sat down on the other side, having survived my second marathon, I put on my socks and sandals. I felt like a very stiff and rigid champion wearing the footwear of dreams: socks and sandals after a long race are indescribably wonderful. When I saw my Dad coming out of the finishing area we had another longer hug. I think he was a bit broken because we don’t do long hugs very often, but after gruelling distances and challenges when he admits he’d like to cry and doesn’t, we instead have a long hug.

In the end, I feel blessed to have the privilege to run a marathon for the sheer challenge of it. I felt blessed that my friends had come to support me, eat food with me, and that my dad was there too. After all the life difficulties I have had with my dad, I think running sickly distances together has really brought us closer together – and that is as good a reason as any to keep doing them. It was hard, and I probably won’t be doing Brighton again next year but never say never.

Race The Light – Pure Trail UK

This last weekend was my final race for 2018 and although there is no Medal Monday to show for it, my Garmin route and Trail Events buff serve as medals enough. As it turns out, it was the kind of running event where the other runners looked very fast; short shorts whatever the weather kind of fast runners who’s french baguette legs and strong quads make you question your decision to start running at all and consider whether maybe there’s another sport out there more suited to you.

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Where the estuary meets the Sea

The weather was everything you don’t want on race day: rain coming down in sheets so hard it bounced and winds that make standing straight a challenge not to be messed with. The start line was on the beach with a clear stretch of hard wet sand to the estuary which wound up just above my knees deep. This river crossing was what I was most apprehensive about due to the cold I anticipated (I had no idea how shit my head torch was at this point). I don’t think I need to explain the cold; it was as cold as you most likely imagine it to have been complimented with lashings of wind and pelting rain pellets trying to penetrate your skin. This was a moment for using mindfulness to zone out of some sensations and into the task in hand. I breathed through it slowly and focused on the water just ahead of me. Each time after a while, the water became more shallow again as I waded towards the other side.

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The sun going down down dowwwwnnnn

The crowd were all seemingly very friendly with numerous encouragements of “well done” more times than I can remember by other runners who were essentially lapping me on the return loop. This was all very friendly and well meaning, but with the course being a turn around loop I did feel rather inadequate and uncomfortable with my own performance. I know I often says “comparison is the thief of joy” and I stand by that statement. It really is, however after a while, and once I got to the turn around point it was just me and the woodland trail running along the estuary.

I really enjoyed the peace and quiet of the trail and it was a really nice antidote to a week of exams, excessive socializing and generally being quite busy. Even when I was alone in the pitch black with just my phone torch I was able to take this in my stride. My head torch died, although was also absolutely useless even when it was working. The only sounds were birds, the flowing water that morphed into waves and strong winds as I edged closer to the beach again, the creaking of enormous trees swaying in the wind and my feet squelching along the trail.

With this being the area I grew up in, being in the woods after dark is nothing new to me. I spent half of my teenage years deep in the woods at night with my friends in these areas. A trip down memory lane was the initial attraction of this race for me, and in bringing me some of the calm I found in woodland when I was younger it served it’s purpose well.

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Early on with the optimism that I might beat the light…..

The final stretch across the sand was the most difficult stretch despite being essentially flat and able to see the lights of the end up the hill. It was at this point that I kept imagining myself on a documentary about my life and running, and imagining how the people on Gogglebox would be cheering me on through the wind and rain. Having an imaginary cheer team from the warmth of their imaginary sofas whilst I faced the elements seemed to really help. A hot chocolate in the refurbished old school house was a good end to a grueling and good day out.

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Well and truly beaten by the sunset…

Although this won’t go down as a best performance run it is definitely a learning curve and experience under my belt kind of run. Maybe next year I won’t have the apprehension about crossing such deep cold water. To top it off, I saw some crabs in the estuary water – now there’s something you don’t so on a road race.

Santa Silliness to Festive Frolics: Christmas Running for Everyone

Last year I signed up for Run Up To Christmas and didn’t manage to qualify for a medal. This year I signed up again and I am quite confident that I can achieve what I couldn’t last year. As we approach the final stretch of 2018 it is easy to start thinking as if the year is over. December is still a full month just as any other even if it is especially hard to keep on just as you have all year with all the intention in the world to pick it all up again in January.

Having said that, I can’t help think that with all the stress and extra activities, expectations and awkward social interactions the festive season brings that running and exercising throughout the month might not be the worst idea.

Run Up To Christmas (aka RU2C) is a good challenge and way to find some peace and calm in all the madness. It’s also a good motivation to keep running through one of the darkest grizzliest month of the year. Run Up To Christmas has sold out now but that doesn’t mean you can’t do a similar challenge if you fancy it.

Here’s a list of other festive challenges to get you in the Christmas spirit whilst letting some steam off without necking all the spirits you can get your hands on to deal with in-laws, extended families and people you just don’t feel like dealing with. Some are virtual, some are free, some are social and some are just a bit of silliness.

Christmas Sloth Virtual Race
Entry: £9.99
Link Here

Choose your distance, form 1 mile to a full marathon. As the title suggests it is virtual so just record it via a free app on your phone like Strava, or with your running watch if you have one. This is super accessible to everyone from the seasoned runner to those who struggle to even get out the door. 1 mile is 1 mile, a goal set and a challenge completed is a challenge completed.

25K Advent Challenge December 2018
Entry: £12
Link Here

This is another advent inspired challenge where you cover the distance between 1st – 24th December. The distance is 25 Km, which averages out at a km a day. This is definitely achievable for most people. Pace is irrelevant and you can aim to walk it if that suits you.

Santa Dash 5-10K, Multiple Locations and Dates
Entry: ~£25 (prices vary)
Link Here

You’d be hard pushed to not have noticed the annual swarms of Santas running around parks all around the country. Many are charity events raising money for a variety of causes. The biggest dash in London has already been and gone, but there are plenty more opportunities to don your red suit and run 5-10 Km in a swarm of santas. What could be more festive than pretending to train for christmas eve like the champ himself?

Running in the Name of… CHRISTMAS 10K
Entry: Free
17th December, Threadneedle street, EC2R 8AH
Link Here

This run is not a race as such, but a social 10km festive run. Festive dress is encouraged and there will be plenty of photo opportunities. They do request you are confident running 10km at a 10 minute mile pace.

Yule Jog 10K, Multiple dates
Entry: £20
Link Here

Run a fun filled 10 Km route around London whilst experiencing many of the best lights, christmas markets and trees London has to offer. There are varied paces to sign up to, all of which can be seen on the website. The route starts at Tower Hill Tube.

Getting Active: Find Your Mind

Work On Your Mind

It is your biggest barrier and your biggest tool to self realisation and achieving fitness goals is your mind. I’ve said it a few times and I’ll say it again, physical activity and incorporating it into your life can be just as much an emotional and mental challenge as it is physical. Sometimes, you may find yourself stopping mid activity because you think you can’t push any further.

Practice pushing your own self limitations and step a little out of your comfort zone. I challenge you, and see what happens. You may shock yourself. I have certainly shocked myself a number of times.

Find Something You Enjoy


Don’t vow to run 4 times a week if the magic of running hasn’t struck you. I would encourage persevering for a month or two with any activity to see if it grows on  you, but if you’re really not feeling it, try something else. Try getting on your bike, or swimming a few lengths, or an exercise class – of which the variety just keeps on expanding.

Who knows what classes we’ll be attending in 5 years time like we’ve been needing it all our life. I don’t particularly like group exercise classes, so don’t really go or seek to go to them – but for others, they’re a staple to their weekly schedule. Dip your toes in many ponds before diving in completely, getting all the kit and making a plan that you won’t stick with because you’re not enjoying it.

Enjoy Yourself


I’ll tell you a secret – you’re allowed to have a bloody good time whilst working out. You’re allowed to laugh, smile and make friends. All of which help in keeping activity as part of your routine and daily life. Have fun – some of the best times I’ve had, and the best people I have met has been via exercising, and not getting wasted in a club or pub a few times a week: conversely to popular belief.

Do It For a Reason You Believe In


Sometimes we need a bit of external motivation. Getting up in the morning to run can be a challenge. Dragging your arse to your 6am gym class before a full work day can seem like the last thing you want to do when the alarm goes off at 5.30am, but people do it. Hundreds and thousands of people do it, and they do it regularly.

Maybe they have something that we snooze button pushers don’t have – and I think it is a purpose and belief in what they’re doing. It becomes a passion and something you couldn’t imagine not doing. Passing up a few more drinks past tipsy to get up in the morning and feel alive whilst doing sun salutations may seem a bit alien to you right now, but after a few months of reaping the benefit you may not be able to imagine starting your Monday mornings any other way.

Know Your Goals


Know what you want from you activity, and reflect on whether you’re getting it – and how to adapt your schedule and habits until you’re getting exactly what you want out of it. When you do this, you’re more likely to stick with it because it becomes important to you, as important as eating every day and sleeping every night.

In my journey I found focusing my why and purpose of exercising beyond achieving a certain body aesthetic, or fitting into a certain clothes size. With these goals, if you achieve them it can feel a bit like “what next?” or you stop once your goal has been achieved and it’s not really become a part of your lifestyle and if you don’t achieve these set goals within a time frame, it can be very disheartening.

Instead, or as well, have a goal that is immeasurable. Are you seeing your friends through your activity? Are you de-stressing from the day and your worries? Are you trying to replace less healthy coping mechanisms? Are you training for an event to raise money for a cause you care for? Take time to notice the benefit you’re gaining. This seems to cement the “I will feel much better after a run” as a solid memory to recall during times of stress or moments of lacking motivation when running feels like that last thing you want to do – or tennis, or gymnastics, or swimming: whatever your activity of choice is.


Other Posts in The Getting Active Series:

1. The Preparation Position

3. Becoming a Kinetic Energetic

I Move London Relay – The Finale 5K

This guy, Danny Bent, had this pretty cool idea to break the world record for the longest relay race. The previous record was 5639.6 Km in 2012, achieved by Keep On Running. The #IMoveLondon attempt was to hit 4000miles over the course of the month. It’s a pretty sweet idea that needed a lot of involvement from a lot of people. Perfect then, is the idea for getting people involved, inspired and encouraged to get moving, especially the party pace segments held each week, making the race really accessible to most people.

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Danny Bent with the celebratory Pale Ale and Lager

Bent teamed up with Asics, whose brand philosophy is to empower your personal movement so that you get the best out of life. Asics really believe in the power of movement to connect your body and mind even when it’s not easy and it gets tough, they really believe in the power of movement. Naturally then, these guys were the ideal sponsors for helping host, launch and support such a mammoth challenge.

All funds raised were dedicated to 3 charities in which Asics and Danny Bent believe in: The Running Charity, which helps homeless people by empowering them through running; Sported, which helps young people have safe spaces to play sports; and Laureus, another charity based around helping people through the power of sport. As of right now, £46, 981 has been raised so far to help these fantastic charities to keep empowering people through movement and sports.

The final 5k party stage happened on Sunday 29th July at 6pm. It was a riot, but in a good way. It was the kind of riot for a good cause, celebrating and not causing anything close to being considered a “violent clash” kind of riot. It was the kind of riot that gets you hyped and excited to be part of a crowd that is doing something for a good cause and all the while having fun. Starting at City Hall we ran a 5k loop along the Thames, across the Millennium bridge and back down the Thames bank to cross Tower Bridge to complete the loop.

There were some sound smash ups from multiple speakers and people dancing whilst we gathered along the route. It really did feel a bit like a flash mob of happy runners making a lot of noise via whoops, cheers and bellows of ‘I MOVE LONDON” throughout the crowd. I have to say I left feeling really great and full of smiles from the sheer fun of running as a huge crowd taking over wherever we ran. I hope for someone who saw the sea of blue t-shirts flooding the streets around the Thames that evening and felt inspired to get involved with getting moving. It really is an incredibly simple yet empowering thing this just moving malarkey.

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As a part of the Backpackers running crew we went along to be the official tail walkers and back pacers so that everyone who took part or wanted to take part could do so and feel included. We made sure no-one was left behind. This is the whole crew philosophy at Backpackers, and there’s a Facebook page if you have any questions. Come along, Thursdays at 18:45 Asics on Regent Street, London.

Cheer Dem at The British 10k 2018

The British 10k was a first for me. It wasn’t my first 10k, it wasn’t my first race and it wasn’t a first sub-60 PB. For a lot of people it has been all of these things. Instead it was the first Chasing Lights x Backpackers cheer zone I made it to and took part in. I think I enjoyed the cheer zone for this race much, much more than I would have possibly enjoyed to running it. A 10k route designed for smashing PB’s and being a sightseeing course is good and all, unless it’s 28°C. In which case I have a very strong suspicion that I would always find the cheer zone much more enjoyable than running.

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I’ve never made it to a Backpackers and Chasing Lights cheer zone before because of various reasons that are incredibly boring, from the usual anxiety to getting lost en route. Even with a smart phone and City Mapper it remains entirely plausible to take a wrong turn and wind up 3 miles away, apparently.

At the cheer zone there was music, whistles and cowbells alongside some very witty signs made by fellow crew members. With no shortage of high fives and good vibes for crew members, pacers and runners it was a real celebration of running in London. The Backpackers philosophy is to celebrate all runners who get out there and smash it regardless of times or pace.

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We are a pack at the back and we celebrate that. The pacers out representing did a great job of leading Joggier, Joggy and Walk/Jog and helping encourage people for whom time is not of the essence to keep going until the end. We believe in everyone and that they can do it. The people at the back for whom running 10K is not an easy distance to just knock out. Even more beautifully so many runners at the back of the pack have such varied and personal reasons for why they run.

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When the final pacer, Jarnail, came through the cheer zone with Helen (Hi Helen!) we all grabbed our stuff and walked the last kilometer together, as a team to celebrate her achievement. This seed of a nice idea blossomed very quickly into something that really was incredibly special. Helen was leading the pack whilst we donned our flags as super hero capes. Cheers, whistles and a megaphone siren accompanied our marching with some noise. Then we passed the marching band.

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The band took it upon themselves to join in. So there we are, Helen, Jarnail (Insta: themightysingh13) the walk/jog pacer and the cheer crew marching our way together through the final kilometer playing tunes like Rocky and Celebrate Good Times alongside Nav with the megaphone siren with cheers by onlookers and tourists who all cheered, clapped and celebrated Helen and her efforts to go out there and smash that 10K. It wasn’t fast but it was certainly done – and dare I say it, it was done in real style. Good one Helen! I’m glad we could cheer you through the final Km.

Man Vs Coast – The First Run

If you’ve ever visited the Rat Race website you’ll know what I mean when I tell you that we signed up to Man Vs Coast following a brief episode of excitement from watching the promo film. It’s the music, I’m telling you, it gets you riled up and wishing you could teleport to the start line right now. Man Vs Coast was sold as 20+ miles and closer to 20 than 30, from my understanding. My understanding could have been off, who knows? In my mind I thought “what’s 20 miles of adventure after 26.2 at the London marathon? I could definitely knock out 20 after the marathon, easy!” as I would be, here’s the cinch, trained for it as a by-product of my London Marathon training. Ah, well, things haven’t quite panned out this year as I had planned although they certainly haven’t panned out bad either. I can’t complain but I definitely do not have a season of marathon training behind me, or in my legs.

The only training I have managed for either event is a general improvement in my fitness from working on exercising more consistently. I’ve not exactly done nothing, I’ve just done nothing specific to either event. I’ll say this now, I don’t and would never recommend this approach to either event. I also wouldn’t intentionally do each event without training again.

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We registered the night before and you can either camp or stay locally. We camped. I love camping and it really is much easier to wake up at the crack of dawn because you get all the natural light induced wakefulness. There was quite an extensive kit list that was checked at registration, however having done the race the only thing I would skimp on next time if the weather was similar would be the optional extra layer I carried; I didn’t need it and there was no way I was going to get cold sitting still if my leg fell off at all, except perhaps from a shock reaction, maybe?

We got a shuttle bus to the start at Marazion Beach by St Michael’s Mount where we waited for a good while. My only complaint would be that the shuttle buses were far too early for the start time.

First things first we dumped our bags on the beach after 100m and swam out to a Rat Race float which was definitely at not-standing-depth, except for the incredibly tall, into the Channel Sea. It was good fun and great to be jumping into the sea at 9am. I found that the peer pressure of being surrounded by people just getting on with it gave me the encouragement and guts to do exactly that and suck it up: a really refreshing and great way to start a race. If it was pissing it down and blowing a gale I’m pretty sure I’d feel very differently.

We ran along the beach for a few miles. Then another swim before leaving the awkward underfoot of trying to run on sand. By trying I mean really trying! This time the swim was much further but the reward? Climbing on a rigged float and jumping off like a kid at the swimming pool. At the lido I still jump in anyway but in general swimming it’s frowned upon for a nearly 30-year-old woman on her own to bomb into the water repeatedly. It’s a shame really because it’s still fun no matter your age – so I really appreciated the chance to do exactly that before the slog back to land against the undercurrent. It was a brilliant way to get us smiling for the first few miles and really not thinking about the momentous task ahead of us. Trust me when I say this, the task ahead was mammoth.

This was the hardest physical challenge I’ve ever done, thanks to my trail shoes being too small for me on race day for some unknown reason, this was fucking hard. We cut up from the beach along a river bed. I didn’t knock my head on the bridge over the river because I was fiddling with my GoPro at all. Nope, that wasn’t me. After a while we were cutting through villages and cul de sacs until we hit the country lanes winding up to the moorland and over to the north coast.

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I honestly thought that once we hit the north coast trail we’d be grand. I thought it would be relatively undulating but not brutal all the way to Land’s End. If you ran it or know the Southwest coast trail on the north coast of Cornwall, you’ll know what a ridiculous idea this is: laughingly ridiculous. It turns out that we had severely underestimated this race, the distance, relentlessness and difficulty.

It has to be said, the scenery was absolutely phenomenal. I mean ‘are we even in the UK right now?’ phenomenal. We followed the coast up and down, up and down, for what felt like eternity. Eventually we snaked down to a boat slope leading into the sea at the end of the most enticing and beautiful beach there could have been at that moment. For miles, we were gawping at the stunning beauty of that beach and desperately pining to jump in the water. Luckily Rat Race had this figured out and that’s exactly how that leg of the race ended; with the most refreshing and welcome dip in the Atlantic Sea you’ve ever witnessed. It was bliss. I didn’t want to get out, I wanted to stay and float and bob around like an overheated seal, alas we had 14 more miles to cover and thought we were a mile out from half way. Nope. Not at all. We didn’t have a clue.

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For added excitement, because running 25 miles on coastal paths just isn’t exciting enough for Rat Race, there were scrambling activities on the rocks way off the beaten track, there was a cliff jump, more scrambling, endless brutal hills that made the genuine ‘Vertical Kilometer’ look like satire; I swear we climbed much tougher and longer hills than the one assigned official ‘Vertical Kilometer’ status. Navigating through bracken and overgrowth taller than ourselves, dipping my hat in rivers and eating my snacks definitely made for much more adventure than any road race could ever dare to imagine. Early on I had joked that I was going to eat my way around the course. That turned out to not be that much of a joke; I really did eat my way around the course.

Finally we hit the final beach, Sennen Cove, which went on for what felt like forever. After a clumsy and painful scramble across some rocks we were on our final ascent to Land’s End. The finish was in touching distance. Despite being told a number of times about how close we really were to the finish line that last mile was the slowest most painful mile of my life. I really wish I was being a drama queen here but I’m not. We trudged and we trudged. People overtook us and one woman said “that looks painful” when I was walking. It was indeed very fucking painful.

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My feet had swollen as you would expect on a 25 mile route and my shoes had felt tight as soon as I put them on in the morning. Eventually we came around the corner then finally, and it really was a finally, the finish line was in sight. We could see it, someone announced our arrival on the microphone and we were cheered in by our fellow rat racers who looked much less broken than I felt at that moment. My Dad and I hugged a long drawn out hug before getting our medals, our finishers photo and some hot soup. Finally I could allow myself to sit down because it didn’t matter now if I didn’t want to get up for ages, and I didn’t.

Finishing Man Vs Coast brought such a smile of relief, pride and absolute joy that we had conquered the coast.

“It was Man VS Coast, so she came from London and Mon Vs Coast commenced….and she wonnnnnnnnn” *crowd cheers and I hold up an imaginary huge trophy belt*

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The end wasn’t as glamorous as my imagination paints it to be but it was the most welcome finish line I’ve ever crossed in my life just above Hackney Half 2017. Despite all the pain and just plodding on I would also definitely do it again. I will wear Size 8s next time and do some training so I don’t have to pull an awkward face when the medic asks me how I was with fluid retention during my training after I’ve asked for a paracetamol for my headache.

“Did you do any training?” *shrugs with an awkward face* It’s apparently impressive that we even finished without training and I think he might be right considering there was a 30% DNF rate from the starting and finishing stats. I’m proud of myself for finishing and pleased that I didn’t give up. I will also have all the views and memories and joy from skipping through bracken on the moorland to the north coast thinking we were so much closer to the finish than we were, and the joy of swimming in the Atlantic after a scorching trek along the trail, and the shower afterwards feeling like a miracle healer on my broken self.

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It truly was an adventure. Man Vs Coast definitely didn’t fall short on delivering a real adventure exactly like I’d been hoping for. If you’ve got the guts and the grit go for it. It’s bloody brilliant and I hope to see you at the start line next year.