Four Ways to Run a Canal Race (145 Miles)

Every year for the past decade there has been at least one Camino runner taking part in one (or more) of the Canal races.

The GUCR - Grand Union Canal Race is one of the oldest known routes that we know people have run for hundreds of years. Dick and Keith (CanalRace.CIC) have directed a race on this route for fourty years and also curated several other canal races - fondly known as the Canal SLAM.

One of these canal races is the Kennet & Avon (KACR - 145 miles between London and Bristol).

This year we had four Camino athletes and many Camino friends taking part - Anna Brown, Lynne Maughan, Jamie Edgecombe and John Adkins.

We hosted a team Zoom call in the lead up to the event and everyone felt in good shape. So how did it all go?

We are truly grateful to all four legends for sharing their stories - four successes whilst only two reached the finish line - this year there were only 33 finishers from 73 starters.

To the wonderful Caminos who supported throughout the days and night. The ever amazing Coach Jess - Anna's wonderful family - Simon - Jamie's amazingly supportive Dad and partner - John's wonder better half - Graeme who is everywhere - all the volunteers and the people that make this scene so supportive x

Huge respect to the Canal team for hosting such an iconic British Ultramarathon event for so many years. As they prepare to hand over the baton we salute them x

ANNA BROWN:

I started out 2025 with no clue what it would look like running-wise. I had been feeling a bit low in motivation following the massive high of Spartathlon last September and for various reasons had had 3 very light months to end the year. Before I knew it, in an effort to re-find some focus, I’d suddenly overloaded my calendar with probably more races than was sensible with a half marathon in March, the inaugural London 100 in May, SDW100 in June (followed by Scilly 60 a week later!), the Kennet & Avon Canal Race in July and Spartathlon (again) in September. It felt like a lot with the distance mainly increasing with each race which wasn’t going to make recovery any quicker! Somehow though, I managed to get through all of the races preceding KACR relatively unscathed and had even had some good results so was feeling pretty positive going into this, albeit with somewhat reduced training consistency due to all the tapering and recovery. I had every reason to hope for a decent run on my ‘dry-run’ for Spartathlon, which was the main reason I wanted to do a race of this length.

The route itself holds a lot of significance for me so I was really glad the timing worked out well to be able to do this race. I went to university in Bath and took up rowing while I was there so to be finishing this epic run in the place I got into sport 25 years ago felt quite poignant. As well as this, I have long since called the Thames ‘my river’ having rowed on lots of different stretches of it over my 14 year rowing career, as well as running the TP100 last year, so I was also looking forward to that section. All in all, I was excited to revisit a lot of these places and felt a good level of familiarity with the course.

The day started stupidly early (4am) after the inevitable pre-race terrible night’s sleep. I shouldn’t have been surprised by this as it was always going to happen, but it was better than Spartathlon (when I got none) as at least I got a few hours. My sister Claire who would be crewing me for the early part of the race had stayed over so we could just get up and head to Paddington for the start with minimal faff. By the time we had arrived and met up with David, Kelsey and the other Caminos running the race, it didn’t feel so early any more, but I was still feeling incredibly nervous. Its almost impossible to know whether you’ve done the right training for a race this long until you are in it so I had literally no idea whether I was (or should be) fitter than I was for GUCR in 2023 - I really hoped I was.

I wasn’t confident enough to go to the front for the start, but the other 3 women who I knew were going to be competitive had done, so I sidled up and stood behind them, hoping I didn’t look like too much of an imposter… Then we were off. Its always a weird time at the start of such a long race, the body not being warmed up (or even woken up!!), the nerves, the adrenaline, the fear of what is to come. I set off at a steady pace, sticking to my plan and as you’d expect in the early miles, there was a lot of yo-yoing as people settled into their pace. I found myself running with Jamie (Camino) for quite a while and we had a lovely chat which helped relax me into the race. It wasn’t too long however until we got out of synch with our crew stops and wee breaks so the elastic eventually snapped and I was running solo. It was getting pretty hot already and an achilles niggle I’d had for a week or so was already bothering me which I was finding stressful. I was grateful to see Claire at 18km for a fluid top up and a smiley face.

As I was there another runner also asked her for water – with the official checkpoints about 25 miles apart it was clearly going to be a day where the unsupported runners were going to need to rely heavily on the crews of other runners and I was so grateful to have my crew who were focused on keeping me hydrated and fueled. I ploughed on, running nearly entirely solo, through the first checkpoint and a few more crew points until I finally caught up with Chelle at about 65km. By this point my hip flexors had joined in the fun so my achilles was no longer getting all my attention! Up until then I had thought that Laura, who I’d cross paths with once, was still ahead, but Chelle confirmed she hadn’t overtaken her so I had no idea what had happened to her – I hoped she hadn’t got lost as there had been a few sneaky bridge crossings that are easy to miss.

I was acutely aware I was running with the course record holder who had not only qualified for Spartathlon, but had auto-qualified with a stonkingly fast 100 mile time. I felt a little uncomfortable running with her as I assumed this meant I was going too fast, but we were having a lovely chat and it was great to pass the miles together. We stuck together all the way through Henley and the big diversion up the hill and into the woods (which luckily I knew really well) and stayed together until CP 2 at Reading. At this point Chelle stopped for longer than I wanted to as she was unsupported and had to sort out her nutrition, so I ran on ahead, knowing she would catch me up again soon. I headed off solo and soon turned down onto the River Kennet, hitting new territory for the first time. I was glad I’d programmed the route into my watch at this point as the navigation was not simple and especially through the more urban areas there were lots of fiddly bits where you could go wrong. It was feeling really warm now and I was grateful to be seeing Claire every 15-18km to refill PH electrolyes and get ice. I was already getting slower and having more walk breaks as I got more tired and sore (the whole body had joined in on the pain by now), and by the time I got to the crew point at 113km I was flagging a little. This is where I made my stupidest mistake.

During the process of swapping out bottles and picking up more PH gel, I was distracted by the mention of a calippo and mid-bottle exchange dived on the icy delight. When I left Claire I didn’t realise for quite some time that I’d only picked up one bottle and by the time I noticed, it dawned on me I might need to last more than an hour on about 300ml of fluids in the hottest part of the day – disaster! At about the same time, Chelle caught me up again, so we were running and chatting together and realising she was also dangerously low on fluids. The next checkpoint was at 128km so we both started scanning the banks at every lock, bridge or building to find a tap and looking for other runners’ crews.

There were none – not a single person to ask. Despite rationing myself, I ran out of water with several KM still to go to the checkpoint and by the time I got there I felt terrible. My two sisters were there as this was going to be our crew changeover point and although they tried everything they could to make me feel better with a variety of food options, but I just wanted to lie down, so I did - at first on the chairs and then on the floor. I wanted to give up so badly as the remaining distance (about half of the race) just seemed completely unfathomable. While I was lying there, Chelle had sorted herself out and was setting off again and Laura also arrived looking great. She barely stopped at all, but just as she was leaving she turned to me and said ‘don’t worry, it will get better, just keep going’. This had such an effect on me as although I couldn’t believe it I also knew it to be true – I’ve told other people the same before and experienced it myself during long races, but when you are in that moment it is so hard to comprehend.

Coming from someone like Laura though, who is just such an incredible runner with vast experience on longer races, it really meant something and a glimmer of hope opened up in me. I pulled myself off the floor and started to sort myself out. I was also having a lot of breast pain at this point which I put down to a new sports bra that I hadn’t used before. I’ve been having loads of issues with chafing in recent races so I needed to try a new one, but although the chafing was non-existent I felt a significant ache through my implants and round the side of my ribs that I couldn’t shake off. It really is an issue no one else has to deal with and at that particular point I was feeling pretty sorry for myself that I did. I headed to the car to change and finally, after wasting probably half an hour, I set off onto the darkening canal, head torch in hand.

Despite the faffing around at CP3, I was still doing really well on my target, so although I had been able to pick up a buddy runner at the checkpoint, Jess hadn’t yet arrived. We’d had to deploy a triple prong approach with Lee going to Newbury station to pick her up, while Kath and Claire did the crew changeover at Kintbury. This meant I had about 4 more KM to do on my own before hopefully meeting up with Jess. During this time, I started to feel a lot better. It was properly dark so I’d had had to put my head torch on, but I was hydrated again and it was finally cooling down - Such a relief!

By the time I got to the crew point my entire crew and Jess were there waiting for me and after a much briefer stop we set off together into the darkness. As time went on, I actually started to feel stronger and stronger and I was running for much longer in each stint before needing a walk break. The terrain started to get worse as we approached the 100 mile point which caused a few near misses with trips on rocks and roots, as well as low hanging branches to duck under but I managed to avoid face-planting which was better than my normal form. After a good while running in the dark we saw another head torch ahead and as we approached we realised it was Chelle. We ran together for a while and I asked her whether Laura had gone ahead, but she hadn’t.

Again I had no idea whether we’d actually overtaken Laura until we saw Jean on a bridge waiting so she obviously hadn’t gone past yet. We eventually moved ahead of Chelle too and it was back to just Jess and me for a while and I was feeling very strange that now it was just Justin (course record holder) and Rick ahead. Somehow I’d run into the position of first lady, but I had no expectation of holding it as the other two are just such strong runners and there was still a really long way to go - I just had to continue to run my own race. We then found ourselves running down the left of a hedge and realised there was also path on the other side of it running parallel. Because of this, it wasn’t until we overtook that I noticed the other head torch we had caught up and was so surprised to realise it was Justin. What was happening?! We went past him slightly but he overtook again quite shortly after when I was having a walk break so I assumed he’d got over whatever low he was going through and was going to pull away.

The next thing I knew we passed him again, lying on a bench. We checked if he was ok and if he needed anything, but he said he didn’t so we carried on. We’d had a couple of crew points with Kath where I’d managed to get some pasta down and other bits and pieces, while continuing on my base of PH gel and chews and she had now gone home and Lee had taken over for the rest of the night shift. Finally, we approached the 100 mile mark. I had promised myself I wasn’t going to push for the 100 miles as without fail on longer races, this causes me to crash and burn afterwards and would inevitably end up with a long death march to the finish. However, with a couple of KM to go, it seemed possible that if I just pushed a little harder, I could sneak in under 20 hours and this felt like a nice little mini target to aim for so I picked up the pace and was happy to sneak in at 19:58. This was 40 minutes faster than I managed at GUCR so it was good to see I was significantly ahead of my previous canal time. Just after this we reached CP4 and as I approached I saw the clipboard lying on the chair – it was completely blank.

The volunteers were all gathered just down a little slope in the bank and I looked at them in surprise ‘what happened to Rick?’ It turns out Rick had DNF’d back at the tunnel which was about 15km earlier. There was no one ahead of me… What?!! I sat down and asked for a cup of tea so I could contemplate the situation! Peter, one of the volunteers, suggested I could win this outright as everyone is slowing down so as long as I keep my pace, it would be mine. This was a nice idea, but I still had 45 miles to go and I’d run 100 miles already – the only thing I knew for sure was that I was slowing down too! I had to give it a go though as I was feeling ok and if anything, running stronger than I was 25 miles earlier, so we set off again with the empty canal path stretching out ahead of us.

The pacing plan I’d set myself allowed a significant drop in speed with every 50km block, so as I was currently going well I was actually making time back on my unicorn target (course record pace) which had been slipping away over the last 10 hours or so. I had established a solid rhythm of 200m walk followed by a 1800m run and although it wasn’t ticking down very quickly, the distance was definitely ticking down! I had been looking forward to the Caen Hill Locks descent as they looked pretty cool in pictures, but unfortunately (or I suppose fortunately!) it was still dark as we ran down the hill, so we were only able to vaguely make out the pounds to the right. We were approaching the 24 hour point by now and I set myself the next mini target of getting to 190km before this, which would be my second best 24 hour distance and it wasn’t even a 24 hour race. It was looking really tight as we got closer, so I picked up the pace a bit to the point where I managed to hit a sub 6 minute KM in my 190^th KM of the race - I have no idea how! Jess agreed to me having a slightly longer walk break after that point so I treated myself to 500m of walking before setting off on a trot again.

We soon met Lee again and now that it was light we ditched our head torches and I took the opportunity to brush my teeth and have another cup of tea. We were onto the really beautiful stretch of canal coming towards Bath by this point and I loved seeing all the Bath stone and aquaducts. It had been a bit drizzly in the early morning which was quite concerning as the forecast had been completely dry and I didn’t want to start getting cold and seizing up, but thankfully as it got lighter, the drizzle seemed to move away and it was cool and grey instead - much nicer for running in. My final goal for the race had been to decrease my 200km time which had previously sat just over 27 hours as I ALWAYS fall off a cliff by that point. I was absolutely over the moon (and slightly surprised) to hit the mark almost 2 hours faster at 25 hr 24 as it meant I had achieved my main aim of not letting the pace die after 100 miles. Whatever happened now I was definitely going to beat my GUCR time, but the job wasn’t done - I had a new and unexpected target!

We wound our way into Bath, passing the hill up to uni and the house my Dad grew up in and finally left the canal for the final time, joining instead onto the Avon river at the bottom of town. Just a few more KM and Jess would be leaving me and Claire was going to join me, but when we arrived to see Lee at the crew point, Kath and Claire weren’t there! They had gone to the next crew point along thinking that was where the swap was, so as I was now definitely in race mode and not prepared to wait for them to come back, I waved goodbye to Jess (to whom I’m eternally indebted!) and set off alone.

I left the river to join the Bristol and Bath railway path and was trotting along past all the morning runners - I must have looked a right state and was huffing and puffing making a lot of weird noises! I arrived at the crew point to find the whole gang assembled and after a very brief pause, Claire and I set off on the final 10 miles together. I was quite stressed about not knowing who was behind me and how far, so Lee and Jess agreed to wait there until the next runner came past so they could update me with the gap time. Claire and I had left the cycle path and were having quite a lot of navigational issues trying to work out where the path was, wasting several minutes in the process, so it wasn’t good news when I heard from the crew that the next runner behind me was only 20 minutes back and that it was Maurice. This was not good - I have first hand experience of how strong Maurice can be at the end of a canal race after he overtook me looking ridiculously fresh 10km from the end of the GUCR.

If anyone could catch me up at this point - I’d put my money on him! We’d hit an awful field section where the ground underfoot was hard and rutted - exactly what I didn’t need at 220k into a race and I started to look behind me regularly, expecting to see Maurice coming up behind. My current style of running was stressing Claire out as although there were steady bits and walking sections, when I got into a run I was running faster than she was comfortable with and she didn’t want to slow me down so we sort of agreed I’d just run what I could and she’d keep up if she could. I felt bad as I’d promised her that by this point I’d be probably be doing 8-10min/km and in reality some of the run sections were sub-6min/km! The gap between us gradually grew as I forced everything I could out of my body. I was hating the terrain but was trying my best to just get through it. I finally left the hideous fields and got to see Kath for the last time as the towpath became more runnable.

I just grabbed some water and set off for the final 5km. Everything was hurting and I was pretty much groaning with the effort - I have never worked quite so hard at the end of a race before, but I had a new target: David had pointed out in the last hour or so that if I could get in under 30 hours I’d be the only woman to have ever done so. I’d been confident by now that I’d get the record, but sub-30 now even seemed possible. I left the towpath and started the long run through town, switching my watch screen between map and remaining distance. It seemed to go down incredibly slowly but it was getting there: 3km…2km… 1km. I made a tiny nav error at a junction which then had me running across the middle of a dual carriageway roundabout - I didn’t care by this point - I was in desperation mode. There was a hill I had to go up - check for Maurice (still not there) - I reduced to a hike. I had 20 minutes to make 30 hours - it was in the bag barring disaster! I followed my watch map off to the left down a fairly steep hill to the waterfront, and along some horrible cobbles to the right and then rounded the corner to see the finish. As I ran towards it, everyone looked confused and started shouting at me ‘you’ve come the wrong way!’ what?!

Oh no! What should I do? Do I need to go back? WHERE is Maurice?!! I just stopped running - about 50m from the line - what do I do? Where was I supposed to come from? They pointed out a slope to the right of the finish line that I was supposed to come down - oops. I’d taken the wrong hill down to the water which had actually added some distance (luckily) and it was the first actual nav error I’d made all race! They told me not to worry and just finish - so I started running again and finally crossed the finish line feeling a little confused!! My aunt and uncle and cousins were there which was lovely as I haven’t seen them for ages and I was so impressed they had made it as the ETA my sisters had been sending them had been getting earlier and earlier!

Kath hadn’t even made it there yet! I was in a complete state of shock as to what had just happened - I had just had the race of my life but also others had not had a good race, so the culmination of both of those factors had left me as the outright winner. I’d been hoping for top 3 women and hopefully top 10 overall.. This had never been in the plan and I couldn’t quite believe it. What a day(s)! Having never been confident in my own ability as a runner, I can actually say I ran a blinder on this one. I’m so happy and so grateful to my crew, Jess my super pacer and to Daz and David for getting me to a place I get to experience this moment. Finally starting to believe which couldn’t come at a better time - Onward to Sparta!

LYNNE MAUGHAN:

I arrived at Little Venice on Friday morning filled with apprehension and excitement about the KACR.  Having completed Canal races in the past, I should be feeling self assured, but life in the two weeks before this race felt more frantic. I found myself preparing race kit the night before, wondering if I would actually make the start line, let alone the finish line in Bristol. I had been being well guided by Camino Coach Paula with my training. I tried to reassure myself that it would all be okay on the day, also curious to find out if the West Highland Way Race I’d done in June would cause early fatigue. 

Nerves disappear at the start line of a race when you see familiar faces. Runners and crew chatted and hugged excitedly. Kelsey and David were the start- having shared their wisdom & linked the Camino runners taking part in KACR via an online group chat earlier in the week.

Dick, one of the “famous” and longstanding volunteers and organisers of the Canal Races,gave his usual race debrief and dry jokes before starting the race. It felt more poignant than usual, knowing that Dick and his volunteer friends and family who created, organised & worked tirelessly for so many years, were stepping down from these historic Canal Races after this year.

It was my first time taking part as runner supported by just race volunteers at checkpoints, instead of “own crew”.  This meant being self sufficient, particularly when keeping on top of essential nutrition and hydration. There were 6 checkpoints in total, the first being at 25.6 miles.  To stay hydrated on what turned out to be a gloriously hot and sunny day,  meant accessing water points at taps on the paths, visiting shops/kiosks to buy drinks  and asking other crews for water. I had not anticipated that water taps could be tricky to find and sometimes did not work. Finding crews to ask for water was hit and miss.

Canal running over a long distance provides the chance to run gently and easily. With patience, a steady and easy rhythm can be found. I managed some enjoyable running during the day and throughout the afternoon, with walk breaks.

I’ve always found running in the dark to be mysterious and exciting. This race was no exception. Head torch on, additional clothing layers at the ready, and a warm meal at checkpoint 3 (77.5 miles) provided ideal preparation for the night that lay ahead. The volunteers at the checkpoint were engaging, funny and helpful. What more to ask for? 

I felt able to run in the dark. So I did. Unfortunately, I tripped and fell over and banged my shin. It hurt a bit, but not enough to stop. “Just slow down, walk, look at the stars and enjoy the peace” I thought to myself.  One brisk step in front of the other. Bliss. Piers, my buddy was good company overnight. Reaching Checkpoint 4 in daylight to the news that Anna Brown was a contender for a podium position was welcome news.

The last 50km became a slog. I am grateful to my husband Simon for joining me, saying the right things and being patient. He’s pretty special.  Despite an aching shin the mind and body feeling more broken than they had been in a long time, quitting wasn’t an option. Maybe the time spent thinking about the mental aspects of the race (not packing kit) had paid off!

Getting from Bath to Bristol took an eternity. Two kilometres from the finish, I felt broken- and the penny dropped.  I had reached that unavoidable moment where you must dig deep to earn the medal.

Relieved to finish, the hugs from Dick and Pam felt extra special. Hearing that Anna had been the outright winner, setting a women’s course record in the process made me feel so happy. 

The next day whilst catching the train back to London, I met another runner who had also taken part in KACR. He showed me two pictures- his finish line photo with Dick on the previous day, and an almost identical picture of the pair of them at a finish line, exactly twenty years ago. “These Canal races changed Dick’s life, his family’s lives, my life, my family’s life. It makes me sad when I realise we are all getting older” he said. This race was his seventeenth Canal finish.

What an impact the Canal Races have had on so many people. I wonder whether this humble core group of volunteers knew that they were going to create events that are an important part of UK ultra running history. Or that their races would foster feelings of community and belonging, attracting talented and novice ultra runners in equal measure. 

Every race is an opportunity to learn for the future. In future, I shall organise kit, hydration and nutrition at least two weeks before race day! I’ll always be grateful to have “own crew”, but I know that I am capable of self sufficiency. I will support runners, especially women, to consider a Canal Race in future. Life is for living. I am looking forward to being on another Canal Start line soon. While I still can.  

JAMIE EDGECOMBE:

The KACR was my big one for the year. I’d done one 100 mile event before (last summer - South Downs Way 100) which had been excellent and I was hungry for more. I wanted to know how far I could push myself. The extra distance of KACR (145miles) was one part of the appeal but also the time it would take to complete - I was aiming for around the 30 hour mark which was really pushing into unknown territory.

In the lead-up, I’d nervously angsted over just about everything I could angst over. They don’t give you a GPX route and instead provide maps. The maps they send to you are beautiful and I respect the purist vibe but I knew relying on them would be a source of stress for me. So I painstakingly charted the route on Garmin, not only adding checkpoints so I could see how far I had to go until the next aid station, but even logging every turning and bridge crossing as a checkpoint. This worked really well - it meant I could reliably just lock in for the next X kilometres and ignore my watch and just run.

Training had gone great - my first time experiencing the joys of having a coach (the AMAZING Kelsey Price). I had my nutrition dialled in (new snacks on the scene for me: mashed potato wraps and onigiri). I’d been going to the sauna multiple times a week to acclimatise for heat. I’d enjoyed a wonderfully relaxed taper. I even had an OK sleep the night before! As ok as a 3am wakeup can reasonably be. Everything was ready.

The race got going and I had the pleasure of chatting with Anna Brown for an hour or so. I knew of her (she’s a legend!) but hadn’t really spoken before. The miles flew by. Then I had some meditative solo sections, finding myself sharing a bunch of voice notes with various reflections - the kind that only seem to bubble up with long distance running. Mostly nonsense, but they amused me.

By the time night came, I’d really started to seriously fade but the cooler temps were a relief. I had a beautiful stretch with my partner Antonella, which gave me a lift. Later, back on my own and deeper into the night, there was a dreamlike calm down by the canals and rivers. I loved catching glimpses of cosiness in the canal boats as I passed. It was settling. At around 1am I was alarmed to find who turned out to be the course record holder, lying in the recovery position on the side of the path. My first thought was “oh god, I am in no state to be of any use here”. Thankfully though he was just catching some z’s. My headtorch hadn’t picked up his buddy who was standing guard nearby.

At 2am my brother Chris joined me for a section and I thought I too would try to nap. I didn’t sleep but closed my eyes for 20 minutes. When I stood up, my knee had flared up badly and I also felt like I might spew. I took a moment, popped a ginger travel sickness capsule and got moving (read: hobbling) again. From this point on, the miles came brutally hard. Some running, mostly walking. But, unless I’ve totally misjudged the situation, I wasn’t terrible company at least and could still enjoy the chat.

At 6:30am, Chris had escorted me perfectly and handed me over to my next chaperone Elle. The sun was up and I felt optimistic. Just focus on the next checkpoint. By 8:30am things had unravelled. Despite Elle’s efforts, I couldn’t contribute more than two word replies and I was in a lot of pain with my knee. By 10:30am, at 196km out of 235km, I needed to throw in the towel. I felt like I’d reached my ‘why’. I hadn’t finished but I’d left it all out there.

I’d been feeling emotional for a while before but when I finally told my superstar buddy Elle it totally overwhelmed me and I cried and cried. I don’t think it was the disappointment of not finishing, more a tidal flow of exhaustion and relief. I’m still processing my experience and I probably need at least one more cry but I got what I came for: the edge of what I could handle. The edge was raw and painful, with many beautiful and silly moments along the way.

JOHN ADKINS

The longest yet. That was what the KACR was to me, the longest ultra marathon I had taken on in all my years of running. In honesty I was equally apprehensive and excited for this one, having just finished recovering from a quad injury and having not had the training block I had hoped in the run up.

But I was determined to still turn up at that start line and do the best I could. After some great conversations with Camino coach Darren and my fellow KACR runner Lynne, I had good advice to start with. Firstly, do not go off fast. And I needed to really cement that firm as I have definitely not done that in the past. Secondly, carry simple route notes, telling you which bridges to cross. Over 145 miles those crossings and diversions stack up. Finally get a Canal Trust key and unlock the joys of water points and toilets.

Armed with this and with just moments to spare, I joined the throng of runners at Paddington. With the music blaring from a passing cyclist, we were off! I had stayed back to discouragestarting too fast, and I was pretty disciplined in the early miles. Passing a police cordon was an unexpected early sight,but was all part of the many things you see over all these miles running.

I had planned to start a walk\run strategy after an hour. In hindsight doing 4km on and 1km off felt too yo-yo and is an aspect I will reflect on prior to my next race. The heat was definitely getting to me and by the time I reached Slough thewalk windows were getting longer. I pushed on, trying to run as much as possible, but it was getting really tough.    

I was determined to keep going, but as Friday evening, fell my second wind was not coming… I did, and would always recommend, trying different things to energise. Caffeine, music, different food – always worth a try - it can revolutionise your race.

Today, it was not working. My amazing crew, Rachel,encouraged me to keep on going. I’m so grateful for this, as it meant whatever happened I wouldn’t feel I had given up the ghost too early.

But after a final push alongside a group of three lovely KACR runners, my pace kept falling. I was done. As Thatcham station appeared out of the darkness, I made the sad call to Keith to thank him for arranging an amazing race and tell him that today was not mine. I won’t deny I was, and still am,gutted. Even more so, as it is my first domestic DNF, but I knew one day it was going to happen.

But onwards and upwards! As I hoped, the KACR gave me one key thing regardless of the outcome - even more determination for the next one.