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Running Report Summary     2008

Miles Cudmore writes:

A dark and stormy night and a dire forecast of icey Northerly gales laced with rain and sleet made everyone think twice about getting out of bed.  But the sun was out and a steady stream of cars was soon pouring into Maidenhead’s office park courtesy of Nortel.

Warming up took on a new meaning and tactic – running around the park and stretching to sort the muscles, and then leaping into the car to warm the spirit.  Keith and Peter are clearly made of hardy stuff and turned up at the start wearing singlets and shorts. 

Seaton is a small , quiet seaside town crouched in between the coastal Devon hills. There a few times a year the “Axe Valley Asylum of Running” (as the local running club call themselves), put on an unusual menu of running escapades. The Grizzly attracts 2000 runners from all over the country, and some from Europe, to sample it’s  peculiar delights. 

Billed as “Twentyish muddy, hilly, boggy, beachy miles of the multiest-terrain running experience you will find this side of the end of time” nearly describes the joy and pain of the fantastically masochistic run. Having had a go last year and being left a whimpering mess, I was determined to go back and wrestle with it again…only this time with some like minded mud plugging souls to take it on in force. 

Nine of us eventually stayed the course of the training, cold dodging and mental psyching to head down to Seaton on Saturday, the day before the race. Myself and Sarah Calver from Windle Valley, and a further 7 from the Berkshire club, where most of us train together.

Accommodation was the first challenge. Finding a temporary home there for a couple of nights with fierce competition from the other runners proved tricky, but on securing a guest house within staggering distance of the town and start we were off to a good start. As it happened we landed on our feet with the landlady being a great host, and having a fantastic house with stunning views. We were all made to feel very much at home, and were offered copious amounts of tea, food and whisky. The latter being somewhat of a staple in the household. We were even offered a tot on the morning of the race, and when declined had to suffice with the whisky and ginger marmalade.  

That night once we had all arrived we headed for “Winston’s Bar” the nerve center of operations and second home to Garry Perratt, aka “The Lean Mean Runner Bean” Outpatient of the Axe Valley Asylum of Running and race director. He had just finished running the course just using a head torch in the pitch black rainy night. We just got seated when the place filled to brimming. All life was there, every size, shape, and psychotic tendency was represented. Lots of our local clubs too. Sandhurst Joggers and Bracknell forest runners have a strong presence there (and not just by standing next to them)  In one corner there was a talk on extreme running being held, while in the other the disco was starting to gyrate into action. This seemed mainly for the locals, who, had finished pointing at plains for the day and were settling down to the long haul till the 3am kicking out time. I think most of the runners had left before then. We fuelled up by eating half our body weight of steak and chips and heading for an early night. Saving ourselves for the race the next day and the impending storms forecast. 

Sunday arrived. It was Blue skies, little wind and quite warm.  Our intrepid group joined the throng at the start with nervous expectation for the ordeal ahead. The blue sky’s had given  way to a dark slate colour as we stashed our gels and water in pockets and belts.  

After 4-5 miles running it was time to drop steeply down through the valley back to the beach. Here was the first cold water wading point, just to give a sample of what was to come, then again up into a steep valet past a lone saxophonist, and away to the hills.   The difficulty of the terrain hit home when we eventually reached the 7 mile split, where the shorter “Cub run” left us to head back to Seaton. Sarah looked with horror at the time,  “Christ, that first 7 miles has just taken us 1:43! Were going to be out here for days!” It was starting to look like that. 

Soon it was time for the first of the bogs. Deep in a valley it started by chris crossing an ankle deep stream, and soon turned into an knee high sucking swamp. Some floundered in the deeper parts while we tried to pick out the higher sections. A couple of skeletons had been positioned in the deeper parts. I hoped these were props and not last years slower finishers. There was a lone piper Providing a backing track to the slops, screams and cheers and the runners slogged by.

The hills got steeper, and descents more vertical as the race progressed. One hill so steep there was a rope set out so you could haul yourself up, under the taunting japes of a sadistic marshal. 10 miles in and exactly 2 hours gone, another of the frequent water stops and more jelly babies and encouragement from the marshals. A big loop of about 2 miles followed where you could see the runners from ahead passing by, again looking muddy. No prizes for guessing what was to come. At the split was a big team of Japanese Taiko drummers setting out a deep throbbing beat you could hear for some time after.  

The loop also encompasses a yearly memorial sculpture, where runners can attach a ribbon in remembrance of someone as they pass. The whole race also has a Silly, philosophical or spiritual message posted every few hundred yards round the course. Another welcome distraction on the way round. Then into a 2 mile wooded section with some difficult footing of big rocks, roots and sloppy ground. Past a Buddha shrine complete with Buddha, joss sticks and more insightful words of encouragement. Heading back into the valet and back to the beginning 7 mile split point.   

Then the beach is upon you. Starting at about mile 16 for a mile along a steep, soft shingle shoreline. Leaded legs start to turn to jelly and some interesting spasming in the calves let me know that the last few miles were going to be interesting. At mile 17 the infamous “Stairway to Heaven” starts. For what seems an eternity a single track steeply stepped cut into the cliffs takes you up the side of the cliff face to the peak of the headland. Once at the top the views were staggering, along with most runners by now.

By this time the 10 minute hail stone shower could not deter us from the last few downhill miles into Beer, the hill out and a last 300m beach section, back up the slipway and along the esplanade to the finish faster than stampeding tortoise in peanut butter. Just under 4 hours, and chuffed to know it was over. Even the fire brigades cold hose-down service could not stop the silly grin on the faces of the finishers.
Our friends came in over the next 20 minutes. All but one. John Wood had pulled a hamstring trying to escape the 2^nd bog at mile 14 and had to be bussed back to the start. Whilst Jo, another of our group slipped on a slope going hairpin over bustle into a nettle patch. Sarah also found nettles, and was badly stung on the behind. Turned out not to be such a good place for the call of nature, but certainly helped pick up the pace for the next few miles.

All in all a fantastic race. We all agreed that we would be back next year. We got 19.2 miles and 5200 ft of climb, epic scenery, epic hills and fantastic atmosphere all added with the perfect management from Axe Valley Asylum of running gives the Grizzly a well deserved 3^rd Favourite race in the UK according to Runners World.

The winner coming in, in an unbelievable 2:24 did not lessen all of our efforts, as this isn’t so much a race as an experience. And a steep learning curve

                                                                                              

At 11:30pm the night before the race, it was great to see the Windle Valley party goers doing their best Elvis impressions on the dance floor ... but at least our runners were on water instead of wine.  A superb evening and Keith even managed to get a pasta dish in preparation.

7am race morning, time to get up after all too few hours broken sleep.  It was about -2 degC, but bright and sunny with no wind.  The fabulous weather (which must be a first for Wokingham) brought out all the entrants and 2000 people gathered behind the start line by which time it has warmed up a bit.  The start was changed to get rid of the old first lap “down the alley” and worked well