Nothing really matters. Having had a significantly better nights sleep, though still awake for the majority trying to work out whether I was burning up or freezing, I really didn't care about anything. I only had one more marathon to do, and there was no Portland, or Weymouth to run through, the view would be spectacular all the way round and provided I made it to CP3 I would finish, actually provided I made it to the start I would finish! After all whats one more marathon in the great scheme of things, I'd just run two, and was still standing. Admittedly running was going to be difficult, but that bridge we would cross when we came to it.
Not even bothering with a shower, I hocked up a lump of flem the size of a small horse that was preventing me from talking, then set off for breakfast. Good news, porridge was hot. Whilst eating the briefing for group one was taking place and I learnt, among other things, that a large portion of the coast path was in the sea and we would have to make a minor detour, adding a few miles onto our route, on the bright side the last couple of miles was along a nudist beach, and we were assured the cold weather would bring them out, so like I said spectacular views!
Piling onto the minibuses for the ride back to Lulworth, things seemed rather quieter than they did on Fri, apparently everyone else was as broken as I was.
On arrival I threw my dry bag into the bus for the end and after a little more fiddling, things would happen slower today, I dibbed in and set off at a hobbly, walky wobble, after a few hundred meters we hit a huge hill, fine by me, means I can walk. Taking time to admire the view I start to notice that a few of the runners aren't caked in mud, in fact some seem to have a positive spring in their step, I then realise that these must be one day-ers and still fresh and keen for the onslaught still to come. Feeling a slight air of superiority, I think to myself, "yeh lets see you look that sprightly after two days of this!".
Now this would be a good point to explain why the pictures stopped, I could have taken some wonderful pictures, massive great hills with little strings of runners meandering up them like little hi-vis ants foraging for food. But, rather like pushing a car, once I got going to stop would be fatal, and all I had the energy to do was think how wonderful a picture it would have made then get my head down and grind on up the picturesque, massive, bloody awful thing!
Passing through the military firing range, and I shout out "Tanks there are tanks!", delighted at the sight of big metal machines, plugged into my I-Pod and generally not really with it I forget there are other people around that couldn't care less about tanks. Looking at me like I'm a bit odd, the girl in front gradually loses speed to get away from the tank loving weirdo. Not at all bothered I try and work out the best way to come back here and have a proper nosey about, or more to the point how to convince Kath it's worthwhile going up the massive hill to get here, perhaps there are some birds knocking around as well, that would work.
Time loses all meaning when you run, and no more so than this day, it took me two hours to get to CP1, I didn't really care though I was rather enjoying myself, not even the horrifying thought that taking two hours between each check point would mean I'd be out for eight hours bothered me much. A strange sense of acceptance, I would finish and it would take a while, and that was that.
The eating at check points had become ridiculous, I stuffed my face with anything and everything, pizza, cheese and pickle sandwiches, fig roles, jaffa cakes, chocolate coated honeycomb and snickers all washed down with a brew. Then off I went again at my funny walky, hobbly, shuffle.
The diversion came and went, as did CP2. I felt for the staff at CP2, they were at probably the most exposed spot possible, wind ripping through the Gatorade bottles.
Arriving at CP3, we're informed of a brand new diversion, not sure it added significantly to the journey mind. I also see Max at CP3, and we tag through Swanage together, this time I really can't keep up his pace and we soon split.
Still no dark times as yet, but getting to the top of Bowleys Down, I think that was what it was called any way, the wind cuts into me like a knife, and for the first time I am flipping freezing whilst running. Normally you warm up to a comfortable working temperature whatever the inclement weather conditions, but this was bad, whether it was because of the previous two days sapping my energy, or my snail like pace, I was seriously cold.
Coming to the end of Bowleys Down and I could see the finish, or nearly the finish any way, I was going to make it whatever!
Dropping down onto the beach for the final leg I get as close to the water as possible to find firm ground, the goings good but the wind is fearsome, and in your face.
This beach seems to go on for miles, like the false peak effect when climbing a mountain the finish just never appeared, and to top it off we had to cross a bloody great river and get wet feet 500 yards or so from the end. But I did it, it wasn't quick, and it certainly wasn't pretty, but it was done, three marathons in three days, oh and my first ultra, day three was just over 30 miles thanks to the diversions!
Sitting on the mini bus I had a strange moment, I'd just been running for three days, it had been my world, every waking moment, and some sleeping had been devoted to getting from here to there, or getting ready to get from here to there, or recovering from getting from there to here, and now it was over, what was I going to do? A strange sense of elation and loss.
My time for day three 7:49:27 65th out of 154. Happy!
Overall time for the three days 19:34:57 39th out of 126. Oh so Happy!
I'd like to give a massive big up to the Votwo events team, not that they'll see this but hey ho, I was incredibly well looked after before, during and after the event and would highly recommend this event to anyone, whilst siting on the bus at the end of day three, one of the team even took an order for soup and brews meaning we didn't have to get up, absolute hero. I'll see you in Oct for the Atlantic Coast Challenge.
I'd also like to thank Max and Sacha for looking after me and generally giving me guidance throughout this event, much appreciated thank you.
This event was a massive learning curve on my road to MDS, it was as different from running a marathon as running a 5k is from a full marathon, I suppose I just dipped my toe into ultra running, I loved it!
For more info and to sponsor me check out my website: https://sites.google.com/site/sandbetweenmytoesmds/home
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