The Corfe Beast

Anxious not to repeat last month's near fiasco at Hove, we set three alarm clocks and managed to arrive at Corfe with an hour in which to prepare for our ordeal. This race has a reputation for being tough, with two extremely gruesome climbs. either one would be enough to ensure its reputation. Not to say that the rest of the race is easy. The first climb out of the valley is gruelling enough to reduce many to a walk. including myself, but not Dave Webb who had followed closely over the undulating first 2 miles, and as soon as I started walking was immediately past and away. Somehow I didn't notice him performing this manouvre, and for the rest of the race was expecting him to catch me up. I was finding it a real challenge to maintain a good pace, which I put down to starting a bit too quickly to avoid congestion at the first couple of footbridges and stiles.

The course wended its way south, reaching the coast at about 6 miles, at which point there was a brief opportunity to admire the wonderful view west from the 400 foot cliff before the path plunged about 300 feet at a 40% gradient then immediately recovered its altitude at what appeared to be an even steeper rate. As usual I gained several places with a recklessly fast descent, but gave up most of these on the way up, having to stop at least twice. The whole thing is a bit indistinct in my memory and seemed to last much longer than the 4 minutes that I timed on my watch. I can't remember feeling closer to total exhaustion since the MOB coast, but at least then I had the excuse that it was 28 degrees, I was carrying a 20lb pack, and had already run 20 miles. (my beloved reminds me that at many points during the worst of that experience she was carrying two 20 pound packs, as well as pushing and pulling as necessary to get me to the top). But this has already been reported at great length by the lady herself.

So, finally reaching the summit, the track levelled out and turned inland for a mile, allowing me to recover a few dregs of strength and a semblance of running form. The track then turned back to the coast, and the brutal climb to the top of the cliff looms, then is upon you. This starts with a relatively easy section before it becomes a straightforward grind of 169 (oh yes I counted them, and it didn't help take my mind off the pain) steps. At 100 I turned around and through the monochrome haze of my oxygen starvation I thought I spotted Phil's (or could it be Dave's?) grey (officially silver) shirt. This momentarily spurred me on, but I had to stop at least three more times before I reached the top step and staggered along the still climbing trail to the very peak of the cliff path. There it turned inland for the second and final time and I knew then it was pretty much downhill from there. It would be going too far to say that I could relax and enjoy this part because I was desperately tired but still expected to be reeled in by Dave or Phil, or possibly both. The one person I didn't expect to be right behind me was Lin...

Anyway I pushed on, reaching Corfe common and after a final few testing undulations (testulations?), the finish. Sprinting home to the encouragement of the spectators, some of whom seemed to know me by name, although I couldn't spare the energy to work out who they were, except... that looks like Dave? But how could it be? But it was! Over 5 minutes ahead of me, he had had a great race. He briefly had time to explain where he had got ahead of me before I spotted the familiar figure of our illustrious chairman, chasing a slim figure in a Yeovil shirt who I realised with delight was LIN! I could hardly believe it since she had been suffering from a nasty sore throat and other flu-like symptons and had considered not starting the race. What was even better was to hear that she was first lady. What a result!

Here she is collecting her prizes.

Lin's bit:

In the unlikely event that anyone is still awake.............. the Beast is one of the must-do events in our running calendar. It's a great race, very tough, very scenic. Therefore despite feeling like s**t, I knew I couldn't miss it for the second year in a row. And as you will already have guessed I'm quite glad I didn't. Only a few things to add to Martin's (I'm thinking rambling, he's saying comprehensive) report.

One: great support from Phil on the final few miles - he seemed more concerned that the second lady might overtake me than I was.

Two: having overtaken him on the first set of steps he would not have caught me up so easily later on if I hadn't been sick

Three: If I hadn't been sick I would have had a much closer snap at Martin's heels, maybe it's time for him to start looking over his shoulder again?

Four: Thanks to Jackie for bringing to my attention the bloke in the red lycra shorts which he appeared to be using to store a variety of garden produce.