The run where the wind is at our backs
I had opted for the marathon distance which began at Lympne Castle outside Hythe and passed through Folkestone and Dover on the way to the finish in Deal. Over recent weeks I had run the route from Lympne to Folkestone, and the Folkestone to Dover section is a regular trail for me. John, who I was running with had run the final stretch from Dover to Deal but for me this was virgin territory.
We met with around a dozen others in the grounds of Lympne Castle at 8:30. Conditions were perfect; overcast and cool and with a stiff breeze that would be at our backs. The organisers sent us on our way and we got off to a quick start full of adrenaline and raring to go. John was full of running and I tried to slow us a little knowing we had to keep something in reserve for the final few miles. Two younger lads raced off ahead but were unfamiliar with the route and we had to keep calling them back when they took the wrong turning.
Direction signs were placed all along the route with pink arrows showing the way. On the whole these did their job alongside the maps provided, but some had moved slightly, whether due to wind or tampering I'm not sure. John and I were next with two others, Alana and Harry, is close proximity. From the Castle we headed east along the road, across a wheat field, past a farm and through a wood emerging beside the M20.
A bridge took us over the six lane road and back into the countryside. Our first steep climb was ahead, leading up past Summerhouse Hill towards Edgington. At about the half way point we slowed to a fast walk. On trail and ultra runs you don't want to use up all your energy on the climbs when the time gains are minimal. At the top we came to our first checkpoint with a selection of jelly babies, flapjacks and cups of water.
A quick photo and we were off again this time descending at speed and full of running. Another hill was soon upon us, another steep one that took us to the top of the downs that stretch all the way to Dover. Now on very familiar territory we raced along to Capel-Le-Ferne and another check point. We were greeted by a number of runners and spectators as this was the start of the 15 mile event. It was good to see familiar faces, refuel, stretch and then head off with 11 miles under our belts.
Once through the village we were directed onto the road. Neither of us enjoyed these sections and whenever possible we took a slightly more scenic (although not shorter) path across the grass. From this point it was down hill all the way to Dover. This sounds easier but with a half marathon in your legs it can be more painful than the climbs. At this point I was really enjoying myself. So much so that I began to sing songs with running in the title; Run to the hills, Run to you, Runaway. This was much to John's disapproval and I'm sure he sped up at this point to try and put distance between us both!
The reception in Dover was fantastic. Crowds of people cheering and clapping. I won't lie, it felt good, although undeserved. Another refuel and stretch at the check point and we were ready for the next hill that led up the cliff to Dover Castle. This was when it began to get tough. With 17 miles in our legs they didn't take kindly to having to heave us up steps to a height of 450 feet. The view made up for it though, as we looked down on the cars, lorries, coaches and motorbikes boarding the ferries in the port below. By now we were bathed in glorious sunshine.
A sign welcomed us to the White Cliffs of Dover. There were a large number of tourists on the trails as the sun had come out and it was a beautifully warm, sunny summer's day. We weaved our way through the pedestrians and along the white chalky paths. Below us the sea reflected the sun between white horses whipped up by the wind. The path continued along the cliff edge past fields of wheat, barley and red poppies. Several Skylarks were singing in unison above us and despite the stiffness in our legs we still felt strong.
The next check point was also the five mile start. Another good crowd of runners was preparing for their run and this was the site of the first portaloo I had spotted. Unfortunately I no longer needed it as, despite drinking about 3 litres of water I had sweated most of it out.
It was now all downhill to Deal and we started to slow. John was feeling a touch of cramp in his quads but kept running. We ensured that we stretched regularly and as we hit the flat it was only a couple of miles to the finish.
On the outskirts of the town there was a pub that looked very inviting and I nearly ran into it. Outside people were standing in the sun enjoying a beer and offered us some as we passed. We declined but only because if we had stopped we would never have got going again. As we approached the pier we saw the finish. The route took us past the inflatable finish line and back on ourselves to cross in front of the hundreds of supporters. Our names were read out as we crossed the line together in just over four and a quarter hours.
My watch showed that the course had only been 25.6 miles. Despite my tiredness I couldn't leave myself 0.6 miles short of full marathon distance so I left John in the recovery position and jogged the extra few hundred metres. We picked up our t-shirts and medals and then it was time for a beer and to meet our families.
