Autumn Ranscombe DNF
This year's Autumn Ranscombe Marathon with SVN had to be cancelled due to the Lockdown. However, I decided to go and run it anyway as it is one of my favourite places to run.
The weather was forecast to be pretty bad; heavy rain and wind, but I thought it would be fun to experience the conditions. Not so fun was the pain in my foot the night before. I had been watching a film and got up to turn the TV off. As I stood I felt a sharp pain in my left foot and thought I had stood on a Lego brick. There was nothing there. I took another step and had the same feeling in the centre of my sole.
I had run about 60 miles the week before and felt fine. After sitting still for two hours I had managed to pick up an injury! Not that the two aren't connected. I went to bed hoping it would be alright in the morning.
It wasn't but I headed out anyway determined to start and see how things went. I left at 6am and arrived 45 minutes later having driven through torrential rain and pools of standing water along the motorway carriage. The wind was blowing a gale and I pulled on my protective layers in the car. It was still dark when I emerged.
There were a couple of cars in the car park but no sign of anyone around. I set off on the familiar route I had previously run in better conditions. The rain pounded against me as the wind attempted to push me back to the start. The ground was waterlogged and piles of damp leaves cushioned my footfall. I could feel the tight twinges on the base of my foot but the pain was minimal. My concern was what damage it might be doing.
I descended a steep muddy hill and was glad I had my trail shoes on. They didn't stop me sliding through the mud, but gave me greater confidence when I climbed up the other side. Ten minutes in and I was soaked right through to my skin. I felt great.
Once up a short flight of deep puddles supported by some wooden steps I entered a wooded area. The floor was carpeted with bright orange leaves that had recently fallen from the mature trees. At this point there is a bench beside a gap in the trees which would normally provide an expansive view of the North Downs. Not today. The rain hung like a heavy grey curtain revealing just a silhouette of the hills.
Another long, slippery climb led to a kissing gate into an open field. As I stepped through, the wind attempted to rugby tackle me from the side causing me to stumble and lean into its force. I staggered across the grassland and was thankful for the sharp right turn which changed the blustery gale from a foe to a friend as it blew me up the hill.
A metal gate led into another field, this one descended steeply through rough ploughed earth and ascended ahead into another wood. Each step was a challenge involving sinking, sliding and balancing my entire body to avoid a mud bath. It was slow going.
The trees surrounded me again as I climbed another leaf strewn trail. It was now light and squirrels darted across my path. A crossroads marked the end of the climb. I took the left path into Cobham Wood towards the Mausoleum, which on this day had its own moat. After circling the grey tomb I retraced my steps past fallen trees and along what had been the right hand path option.
This marks the beginning of a long, gradual descent towards the train line. It winds through trees and usually ends with a shallow swampy area. On this day the trail had become a river. The water flow had gained speed and carved out a navigable route through the leaf litter which had formed banks on either side on the current. I experimented with each side of the channel but found the leaves were also covering inches of water so splashed my way through regardless. The swamp had become a pond which I had no option but to forge through.
Onto the last leg of the 4.5 mile lap along the side of the rail line. Trains sped past as I squelched and sploshed and slid through water, mud and leaves. My foot was not right. I wasn't experiencing pain, but I knew the cold and wet was numbing any sensations I could feel. It was a balance between having so much fun, being wet and cold and risking turning a minor injury into a major one.
One last climb through woodland revealed a small herd of deer that fled at the sight of a plodding, drowning man. Back at the start I wasn't yet ready to stop and set out for another lap. The rain had eased a little and I wanted to take in the autumnal sights and elements again.
Two laps finished I considered a third. Most unlike me I decided to be sensible and call it a day. Back in the car I was able to towel down and change. I was also grateful for the flask of black coffee I had packed.
I hadn't done the full marathon. Without the injury I would have kept going, but I may have been out for weeks after. I wasn't prepared to take that risk. I'll come back soon and run it again, hopefully in better conditions.
