LEJOG 17 - Day 1, 10th June. Land's End – Okehampton (109 miles)

I will try not to make this a tedious warts and all account of our trip, so suffice to say, we made it down to Penzance on the train without any dramas, all were fit and keen to crack on.

Day one was packed with challenges. Starting a little later than we hoped, we got our photo taken by the Lands End sign and cycled a solid 10 minutes before we had our first issue. It took just 2.1miles before Robin's bike broke (terminal gear failure). Mick, our helper for the week did well not to laugh at us, instead he set Robin up with a spare bike and charged off to hunt down a bike shop that could help.  

Apparently Cornwall is stunning - we wouldn't know as the weather was truly miserable throughout. We were all wet to the core for the whole day, and given we were in cloud all day, visibility was non existent. The only view we had was of calves and white lines on a road. All were in agreement that despite him having a rubbish bike, Robin has the best calves!

Mick was a hero and the fixed bike was returned within a couple of hours. If we have any pretence of knowing what we are doing on a bike, none of us showed it today. Azon's cleat fell off, we were forever stopping, there was no cohesion in the way we rode and the miles were covered very slow.

Despite this, it was great to get started and we covered one of the hardest days, in the most foul conditions - great fun.    

Fines for  unacceptable lack of protocol went to;

Robin - for having a rubbish bike, causing extensive faffing time, wearing white gloves and excessive Garmin chat at dinner. 

Azon - for wearing arm warmers over his shirt, his cleat falling off, and smearing chamois cream to the exterior of his shorts. 

Cormac - for being too skinny and getting cold. 

Willis - for wearing his helmet in doors and having both a Garmin and iPhone mounted on his bike. 

Jones - for wearing 'tiny women's tennis socks' and for having a pump and tri bag on my bike. 

Only Graham avoided a fine!

Happy at the start

Miserable conditions all day

The first mechanical

We saw absolutely nothing in Cornwall, but hoping for better throughout the week

Lands End to John O'Groats 2017

It has been a while since I have taken on a challenge and written about it, so given that a ride from Lands End to John O'Groats will be 9 days and nearly 1000 miles, I think this qualifies for a write up

Starting on 10th June, myself and 5 other media mamils (middle aged men in lycra) will be riding from the most southerly point in mainland Britain to the most northerly point. Our route will pass up through Cornwall, Devon, follow the Welsh border, bisect the Yorkshire Dales, the Lake District, across the Scottish Borders through the Great Glen before finally reaching John O'Groats. 

Joining me will be other media luminaries (?!!) Robin O’Neill, Simon Willis, Azon Howie, Graham Wells and Cormac Loughran. 

All 5 are very strong riders. As such I have been training hard through the winter/spring, spending lots of time on my turbo trainer at home or cycling to and from work (about 50 miles each way). In total this year I have racked up 4000+ miles, lost 1½ stone and 15% BMI, for just one purpose - to not slow the group down too much! I am now fitter than I ever have been on a bike, so even though it is a long way, I am really looking forward to it.

Our route is predictably long and hilly.  

Day	Date	Route - Provisional	Miles	Climbing (metres)
1	10th June	Land's End – Okehampton	107.6	2,363
2	11th June	Okehampton to Bath	107.8	2,151
3	12th June	Bath To Ludlow -	102.1	1,887
4	13th June	Ludlow to Haydock	109.6	1,059
5	14th June	Haydock to Penrith	102	1,524
6	15th June	Penrith to Hamilton	104.5	1,175
7	16th June	Hamilton to Fort William	128.8	2,208
8	17th June	Fort William to Bonar Bridge	110.4	1,699
9	18th June	Bonar Bridge to John O'Groats	113.8	1,831
Total			986.6	15,895

All the logistics are sorted. We know the route, where we are staying and we will have someone supporting us every day. Hopefully, all we will need to do is eat, sleep and peddle. 


I will commit to writing an update each day here. Also every ride will be recorded on my Strava page here; https://www.strava.com/athletes/1566301

This will of course be fun and a great physical test, but because I choose to do these silly things I wouldn't normally ask for any charitable donation. However the team is raising money for 3 very worthwhile charities - Great Ormond Street Hospital, the Welsh Children's Air Ambulance and the children's ward at Ysbyty Gwynedd (North Wales). Recently one of our riders needed the support from all 3 of these charities after his newborn son experienced complications. If you would like to donate then we have set up a fundraising page. http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/team/lejog2017media


Thank you, and please keep your fingers crossed for sunny days, a strong tail wind and a chafe free trip!

A few pics from training this year. 

 

South Downs Way 100

“Fair play to you, I could never do that”, are the words that I should never have said to myself.

My previous experiences of the 100 mile distance is either manning a check point or running a few short sections with friends. Seeing the effort (and pain) that they went through had convinced me never to try it, but without realising it, I had challenged myself - how could I come to that conclusion without at least trying one? 

This is the reason that I found myself in a field in Winchester at 6am on Saturday 13^th June, next to more than 250 other idiots (an affectionate term really!) and began making my way to Eastbourne 100 miles along the South Downs Way.

I love a challenge, but I am not a good runner. I like the process of training for something, and having a reason to not drink a bottle of wine and eat crisps every night on the sofa – something that I could comfortably do every day of the week. The concept of training for 100 miles was and continues to be alien to me. I still have no idea how to do it. I just ran, cycled and rowed a bit and tried to lose weight. Throughout the build-up I had issues with my feet and hips, so my attitude to the event was lets just give it a go, if the body breaks then I will stop, if I get to a point that I don’t want to carry on then at least I will have my answer and won’t need to try another one.   

There was little strategy. I hadn’t previously done a recce of the course (I just knew that it would be hard and hilly). I was going to walk every uphill, use poles to take as much weight off my feet as I could, try to eat and drink as much as possible, and just try and enjoy it. Surprisingly enough this simple approach worked well. I took it as easy as I could and was well up on the sub 24 hour pace without too much effort. I had a good chat with fellow runners (nice to meet you Barney, sorry about my boring farming story!) and I loved seeing my little family at miles 27, 35 and 40.

The body was holding up well and I made sure that I took the advice we were given and soaked in all the amazing views – the SDW is indeed stunning.

I made it into Washington at 54 miles to be greeted by a good friend of mine. Spirits were high. I was there in just over 11 hours and was still strong but there were signs that things were going to get more challenging. My hips were beginning to hurt now and I was losing my appetite. I loaded my bag with more food, changed my shirt and headed off again up another hill - standard! A specific finish time was not my primary goal. Genuinely it was to finish, but if I could sneak under 24 hours I’d be happy. I was still over an hour up on the sub 24 hour pace and I just wanted to keep going.

For some reason I had got it into my head that a check point was at 63 miles, so when I arrived at Botolphs and found that it was only 61, mentally I found that very difficult. My right hip was now giving me a lot of discomfort and my stomach was not happy, so I decided to walk, and force food down me until I started feeling better. I was meeting my friend Graham at mile 72, so I had 9 miles to ‘recover’. I tried everything that I could to sort my stomach out but I couldn’t get rid of the nausea. Was it better to make myself sick, or try and keep down whatever was in my stomach? No food appealed, and even my go-to fuel of a pepperami was revolting – trying to force that down with diluted coke near Saddlescombe Farm at mile 66 was a particular low moment.

By now my pace was very slow. Unless you have experienced it, you just can’t imagine how disheartening it is to cover just 3 miles an hour when you would normally expect to cover 5 or 6 miles. Trying to ensure that Graham wasn’t waiting too long for me kept me going. We met up at 11pm and now the head torches were turned on. I was still on for 24 hours but realistically this ‘goal’ had long gone. All I wanted to do was get through the next 28 miles. The thought of dropping though never really entered my mind – I was too preoccupied with feeling terrible and also dreaming of sudocrem!

Graham Booty is a great runner. I “helped” him on one of his 100s between mile 80-90. When he was on 86 and I was on 6, I clearly remember having to ask him to slow down a touch so that I could keep up! He is quality, so he was completely over qualified to be trudging through the night at a snail’s pace with me. He was great though. He provided the chat, opened every gate and importantly knew when not to say anything because he understood that I was often in a very dark place and just needed to tough it out. The hills kept coming, but it was definitely the downhill’s that I dreaded most. After an eternity (even that doesn’t convey how long it felt!) the daylight appeared. Whilst we had just 9 miles to go, it was still so frustrating to know that this would take more than 3 hours to cover.

Approaching the aid station at mile 96 I thought I saw a massive marquee, and wondered if Centurion had really pushed the boat out, only to find that it was just an empty field – clearly I was tired and the mind was now playing tricks. 

The stomach wasn’t accepting anything now so there was no point in stopping. The endless plod continued and eventually we headed off the SDW and into Eastbourne. (A massive thank you to the couple who stayed all night in their tent to ensure that the runners knew which way to go!!) 

Approaching the sports ground and the finish was an odd feeling. I was tired, in pain and nauseous. I wasn’t particularly euphoric. I had covered 100 miles but I was very conscious that I had kept my friends waiting for me and it was affecting their plans for that day. Graham had to extend his parking permit. My girls were waiting for me at home because it was my birthday and they had planned a nice lunch. Rowley who kindly agreed to meet me at the end and drive me home had been waiting for me at the finish line all night. He had however kept himself busy by handing out the buckles and having his photo taken with the finishers!

But enough about me. The beauty of the Centurion events is the collective, not the individual. The organisation is fantastic - the website, the registration process, the community on Facebook, the volunteers, the sponsors, the check points, the food & drink, the can-do attitude, the warm/friendly welcome, the up-all-night dedication. When you blend all this with a great attitude from your fellow runners (friendly and empathetic, not competitive), you get something special, and something that should be celebrated.

  

Back to me. “Fair play to you, I could never do that”. Well I proved to myself that I could. I did it. With a finish time of over 26 hours, I didn’t break any records, but I was never going to. It was bloody hard. I have never had to dig deeper to complete anything before. Thank you to all those that helped me. You won’t see me competing in another 100, (the body won’t allow it), but you will see me helping out at an aid station, and now I will have even more respect for those that are attempting this stupid distance.    

Devizes to Westminster Report

Having completed the DW two days ago, my body is only just showing signs of recovery. It was brutal. As I lay in bed for the first time there was not a part of me that wasn’t aching and I have only just stopped having the urge to be sick. Was it the hardest thing I have ever done? It was certainly up there.

There are 3 distinct phases of the non stop 125 mile Devizes to Westminster Canoe race. The first is a 54 mile stretch of the Avon and Kennet Canal which contains the majority of the 77 portages. The second is a 54 mile stretch of the Thames between Reading and Teddington. The final 17miles to Westminster is on the tidal part of the Thames. Crucial to the race is getting to Teddington within a certain time before the tide turns. Once it does you have to wait 6 hours before you are allowed back onto the river – if you paddle against the tide you will go nowhere.  

Knowing that we wouldn’t be able to get a huge amount of training in before the event, and being novice paddlers, George and I took the decision to use a sea kayak purchased on Ebay. She would be considerably slower and heavier but crucially more stable than any other boat taking part.

The race starts between 7am and 1pm on Saturday and it is tactical when competitors choose to leave. Having checked in the boat on the Friday night and gorged ourselves on pizza, we woke on Saturday morning with the aim of starting as close to the 7am start as we could, so we were happy to be leaving at 7.15am. The conditions were predictably cold but sunny. Despite other boats effortlessly cruising past us, having no feeling in our hands and regularly paddling through ice, our spirits were high.

You can’t complete the DW without a support crew. You depend on them entirely to provide you with the necessary food, drink and moral. With George’s Dad Steve and fiancee Emma, we couldn't have asked for more as we saw them regularly and their energy was incredible. Thank you!

Our tactic was to be slow and steady on the water (as we had no other option with HMS Ebay!) but fast through the portages. If we took an extra minute or two at each of the 77 locks and weirs then it would add a further couple of hours to the race, so we aimed to be as slick as possible through them. If our crew were there, they would hand us a fresh bottle and bag of food, and we would get paddling straight away. Whilst in the boat, one of us would eat and the other would paddle. Yes it wasn't the fastest way to do it, but it kept us moving forward. We could also see that it was working as we were keeping up with a lot of boats that were clearly faster than us, but they were faffing so much when they were out of the boat. 

A constant headwind was proving a hindrance but was certainly not dampening spirits. We were enjoying ourselves, having a laugh and generally keeping our minds off the bigger picture - the fact that we had many more uncomfortable hours left to be sat in the boat. At one stage we were looking good to complete the first 54 miles in 12 hours – a great achievement for us as we managed just 40 miles in 12 hours in training which again shows our efficiency at the locks was paying off.

When we pulled into Reading 13 hours later, we were bit confused why we had lost an hour on our predicted time, and suddenly panicked that we were running behind schedule. We had a very quick change of clothes, and said goodbye to Steve and Emma and welcomed my brother who had agreed to see us through the night. In theory, getting onto the Thames should have meant that we increased our average speed considerably above the 4mph we had been used to. However we were gutted to find that we only manged 4.5miles in the first hour on the Thames.  As mental as it sounds, at 9pm on Saturday we knew that we were massively under pressure and would need to paddle as hard as we could in order to make it to Teddington for the 8.30am cut off - our race was well and truly on. 

It is hard to describe, but the focus that we both had to make the 8.30am cut off was incredible. We had plenty of knock backs that could have broken us. I lost my phone which meant that my brother really struggled to find us without the GPS app that we had downloaded. Without our support crew we had to eat our emergency rations and were running on empty for a while. The confusion between BST and GMT (which is difficult at the best of times, and even more so during the race as the clocks changed at midnight), meant that we were getting mixed messages from everyone we asked, and for a while we genuinely didn't know if we could make the deadline. All we knew was that we had to push hard all night as it was going to be close. I can’t really speak for George, but the cold didn't really affect me as much as I had feared. At -2 degrees it was extremely cold, but because we were pushing so hard, my core temperature stayed just high enough. The boat was covered in ice so reading our mileage chart was difficult at times, and our paddle covers (pokies) were frozen solid and sounded like cardboard. Chris said that at one stage we were covered in ice too. Proper Shackleton-esq, but our focus was so fixed on the 8.30am cut off that everything else didn’t seem to matter. (I know, it is even odd typing that!).

I completely buried myself to get to Teddington and when the sun was up, and we were approaching that all important lock with 30 minutes to spare, I was so exhausted and got a bit emotional. That felt like our finish line. It was a massive achievement to have been able to haul that boat of ours to that point within the time restraint. Mentally we relaxed as from then on, all our hard work should have been worth it as our sea kayak would cope so well on the choppy tidal water and we could just sit in the fast current and let it take us all the way to the steps at Westminster without needing to paddle. Of course it wasn’t as easy as that!

We discovered that we had picked up a hole in the boat and that we were taking on a lot of water, but we had come this far that we were not going to let that cause us to DNF, we just had to stop regularly to empty her. Also the dream of the wild rapids of the Thames couldn’t have been further from the truth. It was flat, and the small paddling that we could muster was getting us nowhere. We asked another crew if there was a time limit on this stretch, they said there wasn’t as such, but we had between 90 – 120 minutes before the tide turned completely and it would be nigh on impossible to paddle to the end. With my stomach, shoulders, and back in tatters, once again we had to push hard to complete the remaining 12 miles in under 2 hours without the drag from the tide that we were relying on. 

Those final 2 hours were agony. Whilst it was great to have more support from the banks including my girls, we just wanted it over. We were done at Teddington so this effort was killing us. I just couldn’t get comfortable in the boat, so when we finally saw Parliament and our finish line, the feeling was more relief that exhilaration. Relief that we were finally getting out of the boat, and that after 28½ hours, we were finally done.

48 hours later, my hands and wrists are sore, my back is aching, lips chapped, legs bruised and I generally feel drained. A few more sleeps should sort all that out, and the feeling of a deep sense of satisfaction will remain, knowing that we had to push ourselves so hard to complete it. 

We were also lucky. Our friends JB and Graham, the 2^nd boat in Team Capital City were going so well until they hit a log and broke their rudder after 15 hours. We are gutted for them, but we know that they will come back even stronger next year.

Now for the Oscars moment. George, clearly I couldn't have done it without you and wouldn't have wanted to go through this with anyone else. I would like to say a huge thank you to everyone one that supported and sponsored us, knowing how much was at stake certainly helped us to keep moving forward and I know that Research Autism will put your generous contributions to the best of use. Chris, Steve and Emma you were amazing and again we couldn’t have done it without you.  Final thanks has to go to Cal, Bella and Charlotte, for letting me disappear for hours on end to prepare for such a challenge. I will try and leave it a little while before I think up what the next one will be!

http://www.justgiving.com/Devizes-to-Westminster-Research-Autism 

Devizes to Westminster - a Paddling Plea

I thought I would go heavy with pictures for this one

This weekend I am going to attempt the

Not wanting to big the event up too much, it is good to see that it has made the top 50 of stupid races - http://velopress.com/books/the-worlds-toughest-endurance-challenges/

The DW is a 125 mile non stop canoe race, and has 77 portages (which involves hauling the boat out of the water and carrying it around a locks etc). 

When I signed up I imagined

Instead it is going to be more like

I signed up as I wanted another challenge, and this appealed as it gives my rubbish ankle a rest, and I was motivated a little more when this guy failed to complete the event last year.

Here is a great film about his race (25 mins long though);

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=vy_smznPmb4

My friend George and I are in a 2 man kayak together and we know that we are not going to be competitive. For starters we bought our boat from

and unlike the ultra sleek racing vessels we are going to be up against, she weighs 

Our longest training paddle was for 12 hours and everything hurt. We expect the race to take us about 30 hours, and that doesn't even involve any sleep so we have barely scratched the surface.  Realistically my girls will have as much of a chance of finishing as me and they are 4 and 2!  

 But we are stubborn  determined and are doing it for a great cause

  
Some people close to me are Autistic so it will give me extra motivation knowing that George and I, and two other mates in another boat (Team Capital City) are going to be making a difference. Whilst I hate to be a Chugger as I am more than aware of the amount of worthwhile charity requests you are sent each year, suffice to say I want to try and raise as much money as possible so any help you can give, no matter how big or small would be massively appreciated.  

http://www.justgiving.com/Devizes-to-Westminster-Research-Autism

With the Easter break being dubbed 'White Easter', I am now getting genuinely nervous about the event.

Enjoy your roast lamb etc this weekend in the warm comforts of your homes - I am going to be very envious. I think I am an idiot at the best of times, but I will be taking it up to a different level this weekend, but I only have myself to blame.

Thanks for your support, particularly to my girls who are letting me do this, our crew and also to my brother who has agreed to be our support crew through the night.

Will let you know how we get on!

The Namib Desert Challenge 2011

As with any good challenge, it all started with an email.

From: Mr Jonathan Buchanan
To: George Bownes; Graham Booty, Andy Jones
Date: 8 Jun 2010
Subject: 2011 Namib Desert Challenge - http://www.kineticevents.net/ndc/
Dear All
While I have all of your attention and there is some banter flying around – I think we should definitely do The NDC next year. What I propose is that I enter as an individual runner and at the same time will enter the 3 of you as “Team Capital City”.
I shall enjoy the role as team mascot/manager.Looking at the previous years’ results I would expect you to win and for us to take away our first International Gold Medal! One day I think this event will become famous and you boys will always be able to tell your grandchildren that you won it.
Of course as I come in each evening many hours after my team have settled down for the night I expect to be looked after in a manner fit for the team manager.
Very best,JB.

And so another challenge began.

After the MDS in 2008 I thought I was done with running. I trained so hard, dedicated myself so much and achieved what I wanted, so why do it again, especially as I know that I am fully aware that I could not be classified as a natural runner. There has however been a nagging annoyance that it was not as hard as I had thought it would be. To say it was easy would be wrong, but I didn't have to dig particularly deep so when the email came for another multi stage ultra, it was difficult to say no, especially with this group involved.

JB's email came hot on the heels of the ironman in Austria, so it was a relief that Mrs J gave me the necessary sign off, and I was keen to build on the fitness that I had. After the bike leg in Austria and during the run I had an issue with my left ankle, but certainly nothing serious enough to stop me completing that race - I guess the 9 neurofen certainly helped! So when I started the running for the NDC, I thought the few weeks rest would be sufficient - how wrong I was.

I don't want to bang on about it, but my whole event centred around the peroneal brevis and the tendonitis that I had developed - My Gay Foot. Initially it wasn't a problem. I was building mileage nicely and felt good. The run to and from work was 7 miles and was getting faster and faster, but if I tried to go further, the ankle didn't want to know. David Harris and WestEnd Physio was great, but I just couldn't get better. In December I was getting extremely concerned so saw a specialist, After 3 weeks of being referred to this person and that, the diagnosis was surgery or rest and phyiso. R&P hadn't worked but there was a 3rd way - seeing the rather large South African Consultant Petrie Devilliers. He diagnosed me and quickly set to perform a small operation. Lying on the table with my foot in the air and Petrie brandishing a rather large needle, I didn't think that asking if it is going to hurt was such a stupid question. The response became the motto for the challenge; "get the man a nappy, of course it’s going to hurt!" Not for the first time, I had to zip up the man suit and endure.

After a few frustrating weeks over Christmas waiting to run I was finally able to start training again. It was clear that I would never have a chance to be as fit as I was for the MDS. The build up had been so different, but I figured that I still had 14 weeks to get as fit as I could and then leave the rest to determination. Again the running went well up to 7 miles and that was it, the ankle was still rubbish. The rowing machine was getting some good work outs, but it was absolutely gutting not doing the events that I had signed up for - the Thames Trot, the long runs with Rowley, Caesars Camp and the DIY overnight 50 milers. As crazy as it sounds, I was really missing the stupidly long build up miles and banter. It was just me and the rowing machine every other night, hoping that the hard workouts and feeling of discomfort would be good enough for the NDC. The good thing about missing all the long stuff was that I spent more time at home, but it didn't do my anxiety levels much good.

Before the MDS I calculated that I had run the equivalent London to Lagos, This time round I was lucky to have got past Leatherhead! I did however row for 2 hours and completed 30kms. That got me thinking so the next milestone was to try and row 42km. It may have taken 3 hours to complete my rowing marathon, but it felt great to achieve it; knowing that I whilst I couldn't run that far, at least I could endure the same distance and put up with a lot of discomfort - something that I knew that I would have to get used to.

It was getting to the critical stage in my training, I was 5 weeks away and yet I hadn't run further than 10 miles. The final event in the training schedule I hadn’t been following was the London Ultra - 30 miles around the Capital’s Thames Ring. It was time to man up. If my ankle couldn't take it now then I wouldn't be able to do the NDC anyway. Physio David was great and agreed to strap my foot up at his house on the Saturday and I lined up with Hovis on Sunday morning at Streatham Common. I took the first few miles as easy as possible. It was the first time running with poles, and whilst I looked a complete plonker, it took vital weight off my ankle. Running with Hovis until 20 miles, and despite being 10 miles further than I had gone in training I felt good and kicked on. The fact that my iPod only had juice for 4 songs meant that I had to suffer more than I had wanted, and I did suffer at the end, but crucially the ankle didn't swell and wasn't too uncomfortable. This had given me the confidence that the combination of the strapping, walking poles and attitude, I had a chance.

Team Capital City arrived separately at Heathrow keen and eager. Obviously the meticulous preparation had been done by all of us but it came as no surprise that George had forgotten his sleeping bag. Luckily his lovely other half took pity (rather than laugh like we were) and bought him a new one and drove back to Terminal 5 in good time.

It was an interesting trip to Namibia. The connection to Germany was fine but I really had to question my man-suit when I started to well up whilst watching a crappy chick-flick. If I got emotional about a girl falling out of love with some bloke, I didn't feel too confident about my chances of getting through the week!

We eventually arrived in Windhoek and got a cab into town to get the earlier the bus to the desert hotel. The driver confidently told us that the journey was going to take 4 hours - I can now confidently tell you that this man was clueless and a total arse! All was very promising until 20 minutes in when we got stuck in a river. You couldn't make it up but the arse ignored the clear warning signs about the road that had been washed away and ploughed straight in. The first rescue truck came and went as it was tiny, and after about 3 hours we were finally towed out and were on our way. The 4 hour journey took 8 hours so we eventually arrived tired, hungry, dehydrated and sun burnt - not ideal. After checking in, attending the briefing and sorting out our kit and having a meal, we were finally hit the hay at midnight. The build up couldn't have been worse.

Stage 1: 42 Kilometres 6hrs 9mins
Area: Private Game Farms around SesriemThe race begins with a slight and gradual incline across dry bushveld. The terrain is a mix of grassy plains, rocky hills and dry river beds. Competitors will be treated to awesome views of the landscape upon reaching the summit of a narrow mountain pass. Wildlife is regularly visible and competitors will be treated to sightings of springbok, oryx, zebras and ostrich.

D-Day had finally arrived. Still dehydrated and exhausted from the trip, the hour I gave myself to do the necessary pre-stage rituals such as eat, clean, pack up and faff just wasn't enough! George kindly gave up 5 minutes of his own prep to tape my foot and I will be forever grateful to him - it doesn't seem like much but I knew what a big ask it was.

Before I knew it we were at the start line, and we were off. As ridiculous as it sounds after 10 months of build up, I really wasn't ready. We charged off up a sandy track. Starting at 0730 I figured that the first 2 hours would be comfortable before the heat of the day kicked in. How wrong I was. Even at that early start, the humidity was oppressive. Within minutes I was drenched in sweat, struggling with my front pack, finding it difficult to get a rhythm, needing a pee and finding the others comfortably stretching away. The necessary pit stop was taken and I was alone, very alone. The first few miles were very hard work, so any minutiae of confidence that I may have tried to convince myself of having had well and truly gone - this week was certainly not going to be a hen do! "Get the man a nappy, of course it’s going to hurt". I knew that I was going to suffer; I just hadn't banked on it being before the first checkpoint of day 1.

It was as early as mile 3 on day one that I had to be very honest with myself and work out the game plan. As nice as it would have been to be competitive, I had to ignore everyone else and just do what I was capable of. If that meant coming last then so be it, it was just about finishing. I was already struggling and that was without the ankle factor.

Ignoring the pace of the others, and keeping my head down, I finally got to first check point, Treating it as a quick pause, I refilled my bottles and readily accepted a drink the support staff gave me, I nearly vomited as the rehydrate was a delightful mix of warm salt water with sugar. Hideous but effective and I learnt to rely on that stuff heavily throughout the rest of the week. Through cp 2 & 3 it had heated up nicely to 40+ degrees. In spirit I was still competitive but was slow and steady. I foolishly tried to keep up with a couple of other runners and tried my best to finish the marathon with a time beginning with 4; I pushed a little too hard, was shattered and very dehydrated. I dread to think how I would have fared if it were a few miles longer as I was very close to collapse.

I was hardly the entertainer when getting back into camp. I was nervous. It was a very tough day so I concentrated on trying to recover as much as possible and focus on day 2. The rest of Team CC nailed it, but for me the end of the NDC seem a seriously long way off.

Stage 2: 44 Kilometres 7hrs 8mins
Area: Naukluft National ParkThe course traverses dry riverbeds and then heads through scattered vegetation and then into a dry big open gravel plain. Hereafter, competitors will get a taste of running over their first dunes and the trail becomes thick red dune sand.

Day two was very similar to the first but the positive was that I was wearing the front pack correctly this time. Initially the terrain was similar to day one but we were to experience a rather nasty sting in the tail - a mere 18 km along a sand dune to the finish. Brutal.

Like Day1, I was immediately drenched with sweat, and ran as long as I could (which lets face it wasn't that long) and marched the rest. Again it was frustrating to be going so slow, but the reality was that with the sticks and lack of training, this speed was necessary and inevitable. The difference between MDS and this race couldn't have been starker. Instead of comfortably finishing each day, the reality was that I was now the slow one towards the back "enjoying" much longer days.

Again, I really struggled at the end despite being as conservative as possible. It got up to 48 degrees and I really felt it. Hydration was really difficult to manage and I only just did. After nailing day1, Buster (JB's team name due to his unfeasibly large you know whats) was absolutely firing however at the final checkpoint I passed him tending to a couple of blisters and I fully expected him to cruise past during final few Kms, It turned out that with just 2k to go, he became so dehydrated that he suffered heatstroke. Waiting at the finish line JB was dropped off by the organisers and immediately looked after. He is such a tough old sod that he recovered within minutes but the gutting reality of his race being over became to set in for the both of us. The reality also set in for me - I was so close to suffering the same fate, I was just lucky.

The day did however give us the highlight of the week. A jovial a German chap who struggled with some great blisters loved to get down to his skimpy trunks as soon as he finished a stage. This was revolting enough, but after stepping out of a plunge pool with feet too sore to walk on, he just stood there proudly for a few minutes completely unaware that a bollock was sneaking out of his briefs - I hadn't laughed so hard for ages! (A real Inbetweeners moment and thank goodness it wasn't Buster!)

That night we moved from the camp that we spent the first two nights in and went out into the scrub, it was stunning and we took a few great team shots, but I felt crap. I knew that I was still dehydrated and I found eating very difficult. After 2 long slogs I still doubted that I could finish the next day let alone the whole race. My ankle was holding and I didn't have any blisters and there was no way that I would quit, so it was a case on donning the man suit once again the next day and doing as well as I could.

Stage 3: 44 Kilometres 7hrs 2mins
Area: Private Game Farms around SesriemDay 3 offers a tougher test of the competitors’ navigation skills. The scenery is magnificent and wildlife is plentiful. Competitors will have all types of terrain thrown at them in one stage: Sandy river-beds, rocky ground and large grasslands.

Despite his incident at the foot of the dunes yesterday, JB took to the start line as chipper as ever. I thought that I would have the chance of running with him today as surely I could keep up with someone who had passed out with heat stroke and hobbling with savage blisters - I'm afraid the answer was a no as I saw Buster cruising away from me at the start with most of the rest of the field.

The conditions were much cooler and easier to run in, however it was very rocky which was a nightmare for my ankle. I went over on it at least 3 times so had to go very cautiously. Of course I was disappointed with being towards the back, I was trying to remind myself that finishing was all that mattered and the reality was that a 10 mile max training run wasn't conducive to running a marathon a day for 5 days. Resigned to running/hobbling alone, up to this point it wasn't the most social of events but that changed by the time I got to CP2 as I caught up to JB who was manfully striding along but obviously suffering with his feet. We marched the rest of the day together and it was great to spend time with him. Whilst we certainly didn't break any records, we covered the remaining miles as quickly as we could, and dare I say it, I quite enjoyed it. The ankle may have got worse, but with my stubbornness, my sticks and my lack of blisters there was still no valid excuse to stop my race so I looked forward to completing the long day together.

JB's response from his disappointment the previous day was immense. He knew that he wouldn't be classed as a finisher but he was prepared to beast himself and carry on. At the end of the day everyone was recovering in camp when a piece of paper was passed round with the days results. JB hadn't been given a time for day 3 and understandably his spirit died. He had completed all but 2 km of the 3 stages and yet he had only been given the time for Day1. It was decided that if you DNF a stage, you don’t get a time for any other stage you complete. What a crap rule that was as it meant that all the hard work was in vain and to any onlooker it looked as though he only did day 1 and had put his feet up. Of course we knew differently, but that did little to raise his spirits and he chose to sit out day 4 and start again on stage 5 - we didn't blame him at all.

Stage 4: 55 Kilometres 9hrs 29mins
Area: Namib Naukluft National ParkThe race heads towards the mighty red dunes, across the Sesriem Canyon and into the Namib Naukluft National Park. The summit of Dune 45 offers a daunting challenge as competitors head towards the stage finish line.

The long day. We started with an "easy" couple of kms to a canyon crossing but again I was drenched with sweat almost immediately - I knew that this was where the challenge would bite. The water if the canyon was deep and a good experience but actually more of an annoyance as it meant the tape on my ankle was soaked and became less effective a few miles into a 35 mile stage. I had a great run between CP1 and 2 with the iPod in and keeping a good pace. CP2-3 started well but became a real test. It became really hot and I slowed to a shuffle. It was time for yet another period of ignore others, keep the head down and work hard. The first sight of the great dunes was breathtaking, unfortunately I knew I needed as much breath as possible to get over the buggers!

It was great to have JB's support at CP3 as I was struggling - his enthusiasm and support was massively appreciated and it gave me a much needed pick me up, even if it was only for a couple of miles!

To navigate we were given a satellite map book and a verbal briefing at the start line of each stage. The map was fine, but it lacked specific detail and unfortunately I couldn't quite remember the instruction for the finish and if I had to get to the finish line at the foot of Dune 45 and go up and down it, or go up the side of it and come down to the finish line. There was no one to follow so I took the gamble of going up the side as it was closer, but I was spotted and waved over to the foot of it. Knackered and a bit pissed off, I set off up the dune determined to nail the bitch (excuse my language, but it was more colourful at the time, For the first time in the race, this is when I felt my rowing had helped as I was able to blast straight up it with out pausing for a moment. It was a great boost to pass someone before the top - I hadn't seen anyone in front of me on the long straight plain so I must have made up at least 15 to 20 minutes - getting to the top in about 10 minutes.

Whilst the flat, grassy and mountainous terrain was stunning, the dunes were amazing. This was also (finally) the moment that I had confidence that I could finish this thing, I was still blister free (unbelievable really) and the ankle was just about holding up, and there were just 18 miles to go. .
Good banter in the camp and it was so nice to be rubbing shoulders with the leaders and the stragglers - with just 40 odd competitors this was achievable and something I missed at MDS. Booty had another amazing day extending his lead over his nearest competitor and all but secured his 2nd place, and George was as solid as ever maintaining his 8th. I had nothing but respect for them and all those finishing so high up the field as they were all putting in some great performances in conditions I was really struggling in.

Stage 5: 28 Kilometres 4hrs 48mins
Area: Sossusvlei/Naukluft National ParkIt may be shorter than the rest of the stages but this is when the competitors will really challenge through the dunes. The last 11km will be take competitors right into the mighty red dunes through the “Dead Vlei” and into the world famous “Sossusvlei”. Sightings of oryx are guaranteed in this area.

The final day. Buster and I agreed to do the stage together and I was a great way to finish the race. This was the shortest stage of the week, but it was still 18 miles with a cheeky hike up the highest dune in the world. It wasn't a case of holding back but we were forced to march pretty early as again it was humid and then bloody hot. We worked hard and really enjoyed the challenge of getting up Big Daddy, The views from the top were incredible and the decent was one of those moments that will stay with me forever - a 300 metre near vertical descent in deep sand, and with the poles it felt like I was skiing - just awesome. The last couple of kms to the finish were enjoyable and a relief more than elation. I was disappointed when I finished the MDS as it was easier than I had expected, but even though this was comfortably the hardest physical thing that I have ever done, it didn't fill me with uncontrollable emotion, I guess that just isn't me, instead it was relief and quiet satisfaction.

It was a brilliant week. Yes it was a shame that the ankle dominated my preparation (or lack of it) and prevented me being in anyway competitive, but that was a good thing. It meant that I got a completely different experience and meant that I had to dig far deeper to complete it. The hours spent on the rowing machine paid off, even though it didn't help the running, it helped to mentally prepare me for a bit of discomfort. It is mind over matter after all.

It was great to experience it with Team Capital City. JB was an absolute legend and was truly our team leader. He completed 100 out of the 135 miles. Officially he was a DNF but we all know what he accomplished. Booty is a freak and came second, an unbelievable achievement and it took an even bigger freak to beat him - serious respect. After failing to finish the MDS in dramatic fashion due to his gay feet, George did so well in this event coming 8th and really achieving his potential. We ended up winning the team prize - justifiably so for their efforts - I just had to finish as no other teams were able to complete the event, so I was just pleased to have played my part, no matter how long it took me to do it!

There were a few little faults with the event, but only because we were comparing it to the uber professionally organised MDS. However it is a much smaller, younger event so any little issues are being ironed out. Another experience that will live with us forever was the dinner on the final night. Driven out to the scrub, dropped off in the middle of nowhere, a few of us grumbled (JB & I) but as we walked around the corner, we faced the most beautify setting - a large fire, 100s of lanterns flickering everywhere, decorated tables, hotel staff waiting for us and as much food as you could hope for. It was a stunning setting and a wonderful night but difficult to fully express it unless you were there - a fitting way to sum up the week really.

Total 34:37:44
22nd out of 28 finishers. 42 started.