Rowbotham’s Round Rotherham 50
Saturday 20th October 2012
06:57 hours
It was just light; I stood with around 150 other competitors, a similar number had already started at the early time of 06:00 hours.
I was with the group that either felt they didn’t need the extra hour or like me didn’t want to get up that early. The race director gave a briefing which mentioned one or two hazards to be found (or rather avoided) on the route including slippery bridges and open manhole covers! Then it was 07:00 hours and we were off.
Not too fast I told myself, noting the leaders already pulling away into the distance. I settled in to a pace and found myself next to a petite young lady who started a conversation that lasted for the next 10 miles. Eventually she glided effortlessly over the mud in which I was floundering and disappeared into the woods like some Elven nymph from a Tolkienesque fairy tale.
I then found myself following a chap I’d chatted to before the start. He too was attempting his first 50, we’d exchanged much information in our short chat unfortunately it didn’t include an appraisal of his navigation ability. Running up hill through woods he began to slow and look regularly over his shoulder. Yes I was following but a glance back over my own shoulder revealed that no one else was. We were off route and off the map but ignoring my companion’s pleas to go back I forged on following my instinct through wood and council estate and eventually re-joined the route. We’d only added a few hundred meters but had lost around 10 minutes whilst studying the map and ground. Still, in a 50 mile race 10 minutes really isn’t worth worrying about.
At 20 miles I did begin to worry, despite the slower pace it felt like a normal marathon i.e. the first 20 had been OK but now the wheels felt like they might fall off! In the usual 26.2 mile event I’d just push on, do my best and whatever happened know that it’d all be over in about another hour. Now I had another 30 miles and probably 6 or more hours to go, I really wasn’t sure I’d do it. Fortunately running is relatively simple and I just kept putting one foot in front of the other as quickly as I dared.
The route began to get better with less hard trail and tarmac through industry scarred South Yorkshire and more open countryside of a rolling and pretty nature. Even the odd ploughed field didn’t spoil the ability of the scenery to raise my spirits.
By mile 40 it became very hard to keep up any sort of pace and walking was becoming more frequent but now I knew I was going to finish. In fact mentally it had got easier, as with most things the fear of the unknown was worse than the reality. Difficult route finding in the last mile, which seemed the longest of them all, had me cursing and threatened to take the shine off the whole thing. Not a moment too soon I turned a corner to be greeted by a chap who uttered these wonderful words: “well done mate only 200 yards to go”. He was right and I managed to run with a big smile on my face as I finished my first 50.
I was pleased to have achieved one of my goals for the year and one which not so long ago I would have thought impossible. But the greatest pleasure had been in the company of the runners and walkers I‘d shared the route with and in the kind words and practical support of those who provided encouragement and refreshment so often needed.
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Chris B.