I enlisted the aid of a friend. He is much fitter than I am, having completed 4 iron man races and also being an orienteering champion, so I was fairly confident that if things did not go well, he'd be the one helping me through, rather than the other way around.
We targeted a half marathon distance and ended up covering about 22.5km. This is about as far as I have ever run, and the farthest I have ever run on trails by quite a wide margin.
Our route started off by running straight up quite a steep hill for about 1.5km. We had to walk a bit. If this is what trail running is all about, I thought, I might have to rethink my plan. Fortunately it leveled out after than, and although it was constantly up and down, it was all quite manageable.
I was struck by how beautiful it was to be out on a new trail. It followed a ridge for a while, with sweeping views across a wide valley of farmland. Then it disappeared into a beautiful and cool forest.
We chatted easily as we ran. This is a guy I've known most of my life but don't always get to see enough of, so we had a lot to catch up on. We weren't in a hurry (or running particularly quickly) but we're just enjoying being out.
I'd packed a camel pak with water and gels, drinking regularly whenever I felt like it, and taking a gel about every 5km throughout. I distinctly remember checking the distance at 15km and thinking I was still running comfortably and easily and generally enjoying myself. (Although a long uphill shortly thereafter temporarily muted my enthusiasm.)
We'd talked as we ran about the fact that I was contemplating running 50 miles of that trail. I'd even tried to talk him into joining me and not been completely rebuffed. As our feet hit the parking lot at the end of trail I remember saying "I just need to see myself being able to do that another 3 times on the trot and I will be ready".
I did learn two very important lessons on that run. Firstly, I need to get better at navigating. Either I have a poor sense of direction, or being tired reduces my judgement. On the return leg we approached a T-junction, and I was convinced that we should turn left in order to head back towards the car. Fortunately my friend was quite insisted that we should turn right. Had I not had the good sense to listen to him, we'd have set of in completely the opposite direction to what we were meant to. The trail is quite well marked, but especially where it approaches busy areas, the myriad of alternative paths is quite confusing. Looking back on the map of our run afterwards, I noticed we actually spent a fair amount of time running on trails other than the main trail.
Secondly, I need to find a better way to fuel. I had stashed my gels in my camel pak, but struggled to reach them while running. And so I had to stop running, unclip my pack and swing it round in front of me each time I wanted one. Possibly it is not a problem to walk for a minute every half hour when running an ultra, but I'd still like to be able to refuel without walking even if just for training runs. I also need to find somewhere to store the empty gel packs, as they can get a little sticky when used.
Clearly, I've got a long way to go before I am ready for my first ultra. But somehow, clocking up some miles on the trail I was planning to race seemed like a significant milestone. I'd run part of the course, pushed myself on distance, and enjoyed it. I'm ready to push harder.
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