Guest post by Phil

This is not undulating. This is a bloody hill.

I am pedalling frantically to get to register in time for the Hurden 18 miler. It’s taking place in a small village called Offord Darcy, Cambridgeshire, and the website had promised me a ‘scenic, undulating route’.

But, after panting up two major hills on the five mile trip from the station, I am in dispute with their view of landscape. ‘The race route probably doesn’t come this way’ I think as I swoop down the hill and look up to see a ‘Race: 2miles’ sign. Bollocks.

Helpful stewards point the way to the village hall which is starting to empty as runners make their way to the start. I go into race mode. I open my bag and the contents explode onto a chair. My nipple tape slowly rolls across the floor and rests at the feet of a bemused dog. He licks it.

Luckily the people in charge of registration are more together than me and Licky. I pass over my £20 for the 18 mile option (you can do one nine-mile loop of the course). The friendly crew help me with the timing chip (shoelace version), show me where to stow my bag and park my bike.

One quick loo stop later I am fast walking the quarter mile to the start. I arrive with two minutes to spare, fumble with my phone’s run tracker app and we’re off.

I estimate there are about 200 people trotting out and we turn left and run out of the village. I begin to calm down from the hasty arrival as people start to find their pace around me.

I pass my old friend the two-mile sign and start up the first hill, by the subsequent second hill the field has steadied out and I am running behind two couples. They are chatting away and their good mood rubs off as the sun breaks out and we take the first major left.

The race is not on closed roads, but these are countryside lanes and there is not much traffic. I approach the first water station (they are at halfway and at the start/finish) at four and half miles and begin to think about my time.

I was hoping the couple crew in front of me were aiming for 10:00 pace, which is what I was after as my ideal pace for the Manchester marathon, but we were going too slow. So I pass them and pick it up a little as I turn left again to head back to the village. The wind hits me and I am now on my own, glancing at the fields and the wind turbines and feeling fine. After some, genuine, undulation I head back into the village where there are friendly cheers. I share nods, smiles and thumbs up with the runners passing me as they start their second loop. I grab some water and head after them.

Even less happy with the hills this time, I just concentrate on the road and I am glad to crest the second one and turn left. It’s hotter now and as I hit 12 miles I begin to suffer. I am feeling parched and the gel I had at ten miles seems a long time ago. I talk myself through two difficult miles as I try and reel in the water station. It appears eventually and I glug two cups and throw another one over my head.

Another gel at 15 and my mind clears a little and I see runners ahead. At 16 miles I know I am going to make it and put a last effort in, easing past some people with an exchange of ‘well done’ and ‘nearly there’. The finish looms up and I cross in 3.02, chuffed with the pacing and the medal.

Now for the undulating cycle back to the station.

Conclusion
With so many races oversubscribed or super expensive it’s great to turn up on a day of a race, pay your money and enjoy a run out. This is a local event in all the positive ways. Fellow runners and volunteers were genuinely friendly and it has a laid back atmosphere. Yes, it’s a little hilly, but at the distance of 9 or 18 it is not occasion for a PB, but a great training trot out.

Phil is training for his second marathon. He wrote this before his first.