The weather was absolutely perfect on Sunday for the 24th running of Axe Valley’s biggest and best event of the year, the infamous Grizzly. It only seems like a moment ago that I ran my first Grizzly, thinking that I had to do it at least once to see what all the fuss was about. This year was my 8th Grizzly and sadly may be the last, at least in its current format, as Race Director, Garry Perratt, has said that unless someone else takes on the organisation in future, he will be scaling it down.
A total of 1687 runners crossed the line in times varying from a little over two and a half hours to in excess of six but I think everyone would agree that they got their money’s worth. As usual the organisation was superb, a great and varied course with several new sections, cheery and helpful marshals leaving no doubt as to the direction to take, fantastic support and entertainment along the way and a selection of goodies to reward you when finally crossing the line. Not to mention the distinctive t-shirt, proudly worn by all Grizzly survivors.
As usual the race began with a loop along the beach, a strength sapping mile on the shingle which leaves you wondering how on earth your legs will cope with another 19 miles or so of fun – but it’s always a boost to run back over the start line before heading out onto the course “proper” with the shouts of the enthusiastic spectators to spur you on your way.
Martin and I started running together but as usual I got a bit carried away and found myself a little ahead of him as we headed across to Beer and up the hill to the coast path. A lovely flat section across the cliffs towards Branscombe and then a steep descent to Branscombe Mouth and the traditional river crossing, disappointingly only knee deep this year, but still breathtakingly cold.
After passing through the village of Branscombe we moved into uncharted territory for me as the route headed much further north than usual, and although parts seemed vaguely familiar, I had no idea where we were. I managed to pull away from a girl who had overtaken me at alarming speed on the downhill stretch to Branscombe and was delighted to find myself in second place in the ladies race, as confirmed by numerous friendly marshals along the way. I was confidently expecting Martin to charge pass me at any time but I resisted the temptation to look back in case it was interpreted as weakness on my part.
At about 9 and a half miles on a very rough, narrow downhill path disaster struck as I caught my right foot in a root and went over on my ankle. This was the same ankle which I sprained badly last year and it brought me back to a painful hobble. I semi-seriously contemplated stopping but I managed to convince myself that it was only pain and kept going – gradually the pain subsided but for the next couple of miles I slowed down a little and had to place my foot very carefully.
This gave Martin the opportunity to catch me, much to my disappointment as I thought I had dropped him, but although I was aware of him behind me at about 13 miles he didn’t pass me and I didn’t see him again.
The route seemed to loop round and round, the bogs came and went - not up to the usual standard of gloop, it has obviously been too dry recently – and I kept looking at the Garmin, seeing the miles racking up and wondering why we hadn’t got back to the Fountain Head pub yet, the point at which you know you are headed for home. I just couldn’t get my bearings and it was with immense relief that I finally reached the familiar track down to the pub – where the support is tremendous and the crowd and music give tired legs a huge boost. I think everyone, no matter the level of suffering, ran through there with a huge grin on their faces.
A steep and muddy climb followed up to the coast path and then a turn in the right direction, east back towards Seaton and the long downhill swoop into Branscombe, all morale boosting if you only didn’t know what still lay ahead. The half mile or so along the beach didn’t seem too bad this year and I passed several runners and caught a large bunch running together ahead of me before reaching the end and turning onto the Stairway to Heaven.
About halfway up I was overtaken by Claire, the Wells City Harrier who also beat me into third place at the Loch Ness marathon. She passed me very strongly and my legs just didn’t have anything left to make a contest of it. By the time I emerged onto the cliff top she was already a couple hundred yards ahead and as if that wasn’t bad enough the route then turned away from Seaton to do a loop inland before passing through the camp site and back down into Beer.
The remainder of the route is so familiar I think I could run it blindfold which was just as well as I had reached the stage where it was mind over matter to keep the legs turning over, the last stretch along the beach was a killer, I really just wanted to stop and lie down. Fortunately I managed not to give into that impulse and even wound up to a bit of a sprint finish, crossing the line in just under 3 hours and 3 minutes.
Martin had to put up with some heckling from Jon Perratt on the PA who greeted him into the finishing funnel by saying “I’m sorry to tell you that the wife has beaten you today” but he took it in good spirit as usual. The traditional dip in the sea followed to remove at least some of the mud and then we enjoyed strolling around in the sunshine and cheering many of our friends across the line.
The results appeared on the website this morning and I was delighted to find that I finished in the top 50 (49th) and much to my amazement I was first overall age graded! Martin finished in 68th place and 16th age graded, just under 4 minutes behind me. Not bad for a pair of oldies. My ankle is nicely swollen but I think will recover in time for the next race......................................
1 comment:
We were so impressed by your brilliant Grizzly results that we went into a state of shock and had to go away to the Cotswolds for three nights to recover.
Post a Comment