Becoming a Norseman – Race report – The Run

Only the run to go! ONLY!! First I had to stand up straight and change from cycle to run kit. Andy had dropped Fiona off to support one of the guys behind me so he helped me in T2. As I said before there were no change tents so 4 ladies standing close by got a full frontal as I got rid of the bike shorts and donned the runners. I apologised anyway even though I knew that they were sponsoring the free viewing. Maybe they had VIP access being that close.

I set off out of T2 with a sort of limping shuffle as I tried to free up a tight hamstring/glute combo. The first 25k is pretty flat and circles around the lake. My goal was to run @ 10kmh pace – OK racing snakes, I know this sounds slow, SO, if you haven’t already, please read the Black T shirt Strategy posting to find out more about the race plan – At this pace I’d easily make the cut off times. At this stage I still had 5 1/2 hours to get to the 32k check point. Fortunately I’d taken enough “PowerBar Ride Shots” and water to last 8k because that’s how long it took Fi & Andy to catch me up. Fi had been waiting to support one of the other riders at the top of the final climb, then had to wait for a lift to T2 to hook up with Andy.

In the meantime I focussed on running. After being passed by a  couple of “racing snakes” I actually started to catch someone. My running is usually so crap this is a novelty so I was revved up. ‘Orange T shirt’ was about 400m ahead but I could tell I was closing in on him. The increase in speed must have caused so much friction that my foot started to burn. I had to stop to put out the flames – actually the laces were too tight – and ‘Orange T’ slipped away. Then guess what. ‘Popi’ passed me while I was just getting started. Time to teach him a lesson! “I’ll draft him for a while and see how he likes it” Trouble is we had a bit of a tail wind so actually I was sheltering him…again. Doh! Never mind. he stopped for a pee and I passed him. Then ‘Orange T’ came into view – game on! I inched my way back up to him until I could read the writing on the back of his shirt. OK it was large lettering & he was a big guy, but it was a start. Then my support arrived so I eased up again to change water bottles get more Ride Shots. ‘Orange T’ lived to fight on. He didn’t know how lucky he was. I never saw him again!

Now I was 8k into the run and hitting the 6min per km markers and feeling OK. Fiona joined me to run the next 5k and then Andy came back in the car picked her up to take her further along the road so she could prepare my next lot of fuel. I started to catch ‘Orange T’ again and then ‘Popi’ passed me – must have been all the energy he saved earlier!! -”Kort & Kont!”

15k and I  was still on target when I caught up with Fi again. This time I just chucked the water bottle in the car, took the next one and we started to run together. By now my adductors were tightening up and it was becoming painful to run. I tried the 8 mins run/2 mins walk strategy for a bit and this was OK, while I was running. It was the getting started again that was more painful. The I passed another guy. He looked worse than me and so I gave him a pat on the back and said”Come on mate,this is Norseman, not effing TinMan! Keep moving”. It must have worked because he passed me 5 mins later. Bastard! Should have kept my mouth shut!

We ran alongside the lake which featured in the aforementioned film – The scene where they sink the ferry -  and slowly shuffled towards the 25k mark, which is where Zombie Hill starts. I had slowed a bit below my target time but we were still only 12hours into the race so plenty of time.

It was about this time that the EIT kicked in – Exercise Induced Tourettes! At the check point, one of the organisers, who I had been speaking to the day before, was taking photos. “How are you enjoying the race?” “Its  f*****g brilliant! I’m f*****g loving it. Got any Coke on this aid station” “No, only water” “Bollocks! OK see you at the top then” and off we went.

I’d told Craig during our pre race conversation that I’d practised running up the Chevin (10% grade) and so that was in my race plan. No wonder he fell around laughing. “No one runs up there Simon. That’s why they call it Zombie Hill, because everyone walks like a Zombie!” Oh well,if you can’t beat them join them so I walked too. It was 10% all the way to 32k. It seemed to take forever. The hairpin bends and the 2km markers provided light relief as did conversation with passing athletes – “Hi How are you? Are you enjoying the race?” “Yes, are you?” “Yes” – as you can see it wasn’t a stimulating conversation. Onwards and upwards, upwards and onwards etc, etc. I had a blister developing on the ball of each foot from the walking action. I did so want to stop but at the same time it wasn’t that painful so I kept moving. We got passed by a “speed zombie” – show off. “There’s no prizes for coming 99th” I wanted to shout but I just cursed under my breath “Kort & Kont” “F**k, why did I have to see that sign. I knew it would be bad news. EIT is very dangerous”

I felt like I was in a bit of a twilight zone. I wasn’t in any pain (apart from the blisters and I’ve had worse – MDS 2001 – 6 on each foot. Hard as nails, me!!) but I couldn’t go any faster. Maybe I had turned into a zombie and I couldn’t feel anything! The all of a sudden there it was, the 32k checkpoint. Well inside the cut off we sauntered up as if out for an afternoon stroll. Actually I lie. But that’s what I was imagining in my head – like a scene in a TV comedy where the main character wants to tell his boss where to go and actually imagines himself doing it but in reality he meekly agrees to his bosses demands.

I have to say I was expecting something a bit more grand but they just marked me off on the chart and I was free to go. By now we were on the road which passes directly under the summit. I mean that in the loosest possible way as we still had about 1000m to ascend and another 10km and it still looked an awfully long way. At this point 2 things happened. Firstly it started to rain. Normally I prefer sunshine but on this occasion i was happy because the change made it seem like a different run – a 10k run in the rain. Secondly I realised that when Henry (another member of our party) had done this race the year before he was delirious. He clearly stated that the next 5k were flat and it was possible to run it. Technically, if you’re Jos Naylor carrying a small lamb back to its mother then running maybe possible. But, I’m not and it wasn’t! And neither was anyone else.

Checkpoint cut off time at 37km was 15hrs 45mins and I had about 2hrs to make it. Plenty of time. Even walking like a zombie. So we walked and so did everyone else. It was a bit like walking in a procession to a football match. Imagine a few stragglers heading to Elland Road. No one was passing or even trying to pass. Now it was all about just getting to the top of the mountain, which still didn’t look any closer. Then the road did go down hill. I tried running…for 50 steps, then went back to the zombie walk. Fi got a lift with Andy up to 37k and I was on my own. Actually, I wasn’t but no one else was talking so it felt like it. I started on the last resort, counting footsteps. 100 left, 100 right then have a quick drink then repeat. The past the 34k marker. Only 3k left of the 10k rain race. 100 left, 100 right and so on. Still the mountain loomed over us. Everyone is in the same boat, Si, just keep moving. 100 left, 100 right then the 36k marker. OK 1.5k to go. Then  something new; a sign for the tourist information centre in 500m. Great a new game. Lets see if it really is 500m. My steps must be about 1m long so it’ll take me 500 to get there. Start counting 50, 100, 150 round the corner and some car come into view, then a car park then the tourist info place, then I see people heading up the mountain. This is it. I’ve made it! 350, 400, focus on the tourist centre. Walk straight past the checkpoint table and Andy. Then a voice shouts “Simon, STOP” Its Andy. I’ve been so focussed that I never even saw him. Wow, I wish I could get into that zone more often.

Again nothing grand. A quick tick on the list and not even the once over by the doctor. “Are you sure you don’t want me to see him? I have EIT” “No I just need to check your mountain bag and you are good to go” Andy had already done it so that was it. A quick change into some warmer clothes and we were ready for the last leg.

Heading on to Gausta

The Black T shirt strategy had worked. I was inside the cut off by a long way and now all I had to do was wander up the remaining 5k (5-600m of ascent) and it would be over. The race rules are that you either have to ascend with your support crew (Fi) or another athlete. Fi was dead keen to go as she planned to do the race in 2010. We set off. She the shepherd striding away and choosing the route and me the faithful, knackered, sheepdog trying to keep to heel. Actually the mountain path, although very rock, was a welcome change from the tarmac. I felt much better than i thought and we made good time – meaning that no one overtook us – apart from 1 cheery Norwegian girl who was running with her support team struggling to keep up. The weather had closed in quite a bit so the top was now no longer visible. I’m not sure whether this was good or bad. All of a sudden I felt a bit light-headed. Time for some food. Then I realised that I hadn’t eaten for sometime. I munched on a PowerBar as we continued to climb and then I felt sick. I resisted the urge to chuck up although it would have been something different to do. Lost of support crew were descending, having got their athlete to the top, and there were even some with race numbers

“Duurrrr, why didn’t you just get the lift down? Have I missed something? Is there a Gold T shirt for walking back down again. I don’t like gold anyway, so I’ll take the lift”

The we reached the false flat. Still not there but the top was back in view…and still some way. “Keep going. You’ve got the T black shirt but it’s not over til you reach the top” A few more steps. “Athletes to the  front, athletes to the rear, but I’m stuck in the middle with you” No one racing now, all just engaged in their own personal battle with the mountain. The some descending comedians approach. “Hey, doing well. Its only 15 minutes to the top now! Nearly There”. So I think “Does that mean it’s taken you 15 mins to get down to here or it’s going to take us 15 mins to get up there” In my tired state I could still smell a rat! We pressed on. Then more comedians “Only 10 mins now. Keep going”. Same question! Then another comedian but on with a different clock “15 minutes to go now” “Oh fffff….. Stop he’s only trying to help. The EIT seems worse at altitude! Right, getting bored and tired now, so back to counting steps. 100 then look up, no nearer, 100more then look up, a bit nearer. 100 more, I can see the sign, 100 more I  can hear clapping, 100 oops no didn’t quite get there. I’ve made it. NO we’ve made it. I couldn’t have done it without Fi or Andy or the rest of the support crew that helped me during training (I’ll write a special article about the value of a support crew later)

The end. A fantastic journey of 10 months. I’ve enjoyed every bit of it and now I’m standing on top of the world (metaphorically) with a great sunset and my best friend. Life doesn’t get much better than this. And then we had tomato soup.