There’s something irresistible about a ballot notification email. One for next year’s Lakeland 50 has just landed in my inbox and any ambivalence about whether I want another go has vanished. Let me get a place. This summer was my first L50, my first ultra. It was a blast and an education in embracing unexpected wins. When the training plan came unstuck due to injury and Life Stuff, I decided to go out and have a nice time with the aim of finishing, head-gremlins be damned. A useful pre-race chat epiphany helped: ‘why waste energy getting in other people’s heads?!’ (Thanks Jenny!) Okay: so no worrying about what anyone else might think about my day, however it turned out. First win: adapting and surprising myself by enjoying it.
Admittedly, this revised ‘plan’ seemed much less plan-like on the start line. Other first timers I met looked ready whereas I didn’t know what was coming: what if, what if. 17-odd hours later, clutching the remains of a heaven-sent cheese toastie, I crossed the line at a sprint with a stranger, and found that the boundaries of my ‘possible’ had quietly shifted while I was concentrating on other stuff. Practical, awesome, surreal stuff. Did I really exchange 1am pleasantries with Darth Vader at Chapel Stile checkpoint? How many custard creams is too many? What do I need now/ next: fuel, water, loo, plasters… Wheeee descents. Being wonderstruck by sunset on Garburn Road. Watching a string of headtorch lights bob up from Tilberthwaite – each someone nearing the end of their own big day. Surprise hugs and cheers from mates en route. Amazing checkpoint staff energy and kindness. Chatting to other runners, or trotting along in night-time quiet while our pace held us together. Discovering what happens when you accidentally press the SOS button on your tracker… that kind of Stuff.
Something (obvious) I’d do differently next time: check the tracker is taped to my pack in a place that’s comfortable for running, get it re-done if it’s not. Jenny had mentioned this, so I duly bounced on the spot a couple of times to check at registration: all good! By Mardale Head checkpoint, however, I was scrabbling at the orange box lodged in my shoulder and it was with real joy that I spied someone else having theirs repositioned by a chap from the tracking company. He’d barely finished before I was next. My thanks quickly turned into apologies as a flicker of phone signal delivered missed calls and a message, ‘SOS tracker gone off, please call’. S**t. I’d unwittingly hit the button miles back, while scrabbling. Was this Game Over? What were my dot-watching supporters seeing?! The unflappable team keeping an eye on such things knew what had happened before I did: ‘all good, we spotted you moving’. The hiccup made me appreciate a less-conspicuous part of the event’s formidable and friendly support network. Good to know it works!
And something perhaps less obvious: the event can begin months before you cross the start line… enjoy recces as much as you can. My independent recces, mostly at a walk, were cracking days out: a massive unexpected win. I roped in some of my nearest and dearest, and the weather was kind to us, which helped – fortunately it was also kind on the day, for the L50s at least! Knowing the route gave me confidence (even if there were moments at night when remembering where a turn was took a while...). If I’m lucky enough to get another shot, another round of recces will help me think more about how I run the route. It’s no longer ‘is this possible’, it’s ‘how’… wow.
Time to open that email…
Becca
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