Race Report; Race to the Stones 2023

I'll never run this one again

Finding my name at the start of RTTS

The Fuges in their 1996 track summed it up perfectly, this 100K ultra came just 6 weeks after my last hundred, the London 2 Brighton at the end of May and my training block leading up to it hadn’t quite run to plan.  I was ill for several days which knocked the miles back and in the taper week a trail run opportunity popped up so I did a lot more miles than I should have in the days before.  But as the Fugees said ‘Ready or Not here I come’

I don’t recall how I first found out about Race to the Stones (RTTS), I suspect it was a post by someone on Instagram that alerted me to what looked like an awesome trail run along an ancient track traversing the Oxfordshire countryside and finishing at the UNESCO World Heritage site of Avebury stone circle.  As it would turn out the only time I would see the stones was at a little after 5am on the coach from the finish to the start line, but we’ll cover that aspect of the event off a later.

RTTS is an ultra-event run by Threshold Trails, a company based out of Brighton.  Now in its 10th year the event is setup like many others providing a choice over distance, you can take on the first 50K on day 1 or try the last 50K on day 2 or opt to do both day 1 and day 2 camping overnight at the halfway basecamp – or as I and around 900 others choose to take on the full 100K straight through.

RTTS start line

Starting in Lewknor, yes, I too had never heard of the place before this event, and ending at Avebury, the route traverses through wide open countryside where expansive views of corn fields make you wonder what all the fuss of over-development is all about – for as far as the eye can see there isn’t a man-made structure in sight.  Most of your time is on the rocky, flint and chalk trail known as the Ridgeway, an ancient trail described by National Trails as ‘a route used since prehistoric times by travellers, herdsmen and soldiers through ancient landscapes’.  

Prehistoric it is at times, I swear I heard the gigantic ear ripping roar of a T-Rex more than once, although this could easily have been the call of a fellow runner whose stomach was rejecting the blackcurrant gels provided at the last aid station.

100K (62.15 miles) is a long way.  As a car driver it may seem like a short hours journey in air-conditioned comfort with your favourite radio station soothing away any small distress you feel from the traffic on your journey.  For a runner this distance is a constant battle of body and mind across many, many hours.  It is a distance almost too large to comprehend.  Time takes on a whole new perspective on an ultra, only in the days following when you scroll your camera feed noting the time of each photo you took do you realise just how long you were out there running.  At the time you have no concept of what time of day it is, I’m pretty sure I was still saying ‘good morning’ to people I met at three in the afternoon.

" the ultra panics..."

I’d been given a start wave of 08:50, which I was most unhappy about.  It’s too late to start.  I want to be up and gone early.  I feared running a lot in the dark, which I don’t mind but it does mean the brain has to work harder at night and you are robbed of many views.  I’d also wondered as this was the last starting wave whether you’d see as many people along the way or if you could be running alone for long periods.  

I’d stayed the night before just outside Avebury, a wonderful pub with rooms and a host that got up at 4am to make me an amazing breakfast of real porridge, banana, toast and honey, Ben at Elderbrook House (The New Inn pub) at Winterbourne Stoke I am incredibly grateful to you.  I set off just after 5 having had the usual morning ultra panics, there is always one thing that doesn’t go to plan, and on this morning, it was the fact my iPhone decided to stop charging at 80% overnight.  I needed a full battery so a quick Google search as to why, some changes in the settings made, a handful of cursed words I put it back on charge and wandered downstairs to my fuelling breakfast.

Beautiful sunrise as I parked

Parking at the finish, which is Rutland Farm, Avebury, I caught a coach to the start line in Lewknor.  This meant I had my car at the finish complete with a change of clothes, snacks and my duvet and pillow so I could get some shut eye before driving the 3 hours home.  Sleep would not come easily after I’d finished thanks to Adrian’s mate.  Adrian evidently the driver of the car parked next to me who wasn’t anywhere to be seen and his mate, clearly getting a lift with him, illuminated my car like a stadium with his head torch before shouting many, many times at the top of his voice ADRIAN.  I packed up the duvet and left.

I didn’t know how I would feel about being driven to the start only to run back, it seemed an odd concept in my mind being driven on a 4 lane motorway zipping along at 60 miles per hour in comfort only to be met with the realisation I would be running back to where I started the morning , this time at a significantly slower speed, on rough trail and as I was to find out in pouring rain with the threat of being struck by lightning.  

There are other ultras which are a giant 100K loop ending where they started, these I really don’t like the idea of as I like to feel as if I have completed a journey and a loop is, well just a loop.

So, there I was at the start, I’d caught an early bus, seen the stones out of the window as we passed, chatted to the lady sitting next to me who was from Taunton and with her husband were completing the full 100K over the weekend, stopping the night at basecamp for a well deserved rest. At Lewknor I joined the exceedingly long queue for the toilet, which in fairness progressed quickly, all the while listening and watching the wave at just after 7am have their pep talk, a safety briefing, some highly suspicious and ever so slightly over friendly with a stranger moves to warm up and then sent on their way.

"like a naughty schoolboy trying not to get caught..."

The next starting wave was 20 minutes later at 0730, and like a naughty schoolboy trying not to get caught for doing something behind the bike sheds with the girl you fancy from Miss Peachys class, I snuck in.  There I was in the 0730 wave, a full 1hr20mins ahead of my given start time, any moment I expected a hand on my shoulder and a stern word in my ear; but it never came and before I knew it, we were released like a pack of eager hunting dogs into the wilderness ahead.

It was a fine morning, the blue-sky peeking through a heavy blanket of cloud.  There was something ominous in the air, a humid sticky feeling as if the weather gods were waiting to play games with us over the next few hours, and we didn’t have to wait long.  The first Pit Stop was at around 8K, which you come across very quickly.  The pit stops were random in their spacing with some being over 15K between, but they were all stocked with an array of the usual nibbles, some catering for walkers, other for runners.  

The High 5 Blackcurrant gels I saw were, I think, from an old box someone found at the back of the warehouse and thought it would be a good idea to get rid of the on an event.  It’s an unusual flavour and personally I prefer the lighter ones from their range such as citrus.

At each Pit Stop there was a medics tent which seemed to be well attended most times, and judging by the number of legs I saw covered in blue kinso tape they were doing quite a trade (I say trade it’s all free and I expect very very welcomed by anyone who needs them).

Rest stop one

Shortly after arrival at Pit Stop 1 the heavens opened, the weather gods were playing dirty and playing hard.  The heavy showers would continue for a few hours, skies darkening, thunder booming and lightening making you think twice about taking a wild wee under any tree.  During the afternoon, although it could really have been any time of day as my mind had no concept of what time it really was, the rain set in hard and long.  I was grateful for my Proviz jacket, it is snug, warm, fully waterproof and kept me 100% dry.  My Hoka Speedgoats I opted to run in were also doing a sterling job of keeping the water out my feet.

At the 50K mark I changed socks and was surprised to find they were pretty much dry; they didn’t smell great but at least they were dry.  The chap sitting next to me was wringing his out, great pools of water forming at his feet, and he had to put them back on.  No wonder there were so many people talking about blisters.

In 2023 it was the field of beans!

We ran alongside the river, and over it too, through fields of broad beans and corn, along rutted trails of flint and chalk, occasionally along a road and through a village as the trail wound its way through the countryside.  The route for the majority is very remote, something I love, you can see for miles in each direction, the views are outstanding and unless you are really chasing a time, I’d encourage you to stop, admire and take a photo.

Being a National Trail, it attracts the causal and more serious exercise enthusiast, and as it intersects small back roads there are rough ground car parks.  

As I chanced upon each, they were all full, briming to overflowing, and the larger majority of those in their cars were family and friends of the RTTS entrants.  Boots of cars stacked full of fresh supplies, I saw fluids, foods and clothes being dutifully dished out.  The family and friends went above and beyond, they didn’t just focus upon the person who they were supporting, but almost without exception they clapped, cheered, and gave well done to every person who passed them.  Including I may add one amazing young lady who was dishing out jelly babies – these for any long-distance runner are the fuel of the Gods.

"running for those who have been affected by cancer"

Ultras are great for brief conversations with fellow runners.  I chose to run RTTS with the names of those who have been affected by cancer, some are in remission, some are currently receiving treatment and others are fondly remembered.  I did this on the London 2 Brighton 6 weeks prior and it received a very positive response.  Having navigated cancer myself in the last couple of years I feel it’s important to support others and this is a way of doing so.  A post in the RTTS Facebook group received a wonderful response.  I really do take a lot from running with the names on my back, I draw strength from them in the later stages, I talk to them, and I hope the family and friends take something positive away from the experience too.

Running with names

It was an honour to meet many who had put forward a name, and I would always stop to chat, that’s what the event is about for me.  If you are reading this and you were one of those who I chatted with then thank you for trusting me with a family or friends name and thank you for taking the time out of your event to stop.  I will continue to do this on all the 100’s I run from now on.

In the early KM’s I met and ran for a while with a lady who was raising money for The Lullaby Trust, they do excellent work in the areas of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS), she had lost her brother in the late 1970’s, he was just a baby.  We called it cot death back then.  She recalled to me how the neighbours reacted, how they shunned the family, how the accusation was they didn’t look after the baby properly.  I hear so often people say, ‘it was so much better back then..’ referring to times gone by, but this lady made me realise that’s not the case.  Today if your neighbour was in a similar situation, I’d think you’d support, you’d do everything you could, in the same way I saw later in that day a runner who was probably bonking and many others were checking in on him.

"..it's just 10K, that's easy!"

Navigating the course was easy, many fear that over such a distance you may get lost, but my experience is that these ultras are extremely well sign posted, you simply cannot go wrong.  Although I did on the London 2 Brighton as I was slow running, texting family an update and totally missed a sign!  Thankfully someone behind shouted at me.  RTTS has a large number of white arrows on red backgrounds making them highly visible, even in the dark with a good headlight you will see them.  The signage means you can have a single focus, ticking off the KM’s.  I break the distance down into easy to manage chunks, usually the distance between pit stops, 10 – 15KM is an easy distance for the brain to comprehend and you get a reward as you tick off another section.

Just 10K to go, a hard wet, muddy 10K

I also play the 10K and Parkrun game, at 75K I was saying, possibly singing by this point, to myself ‘it’s just a Parkrun to 80K’ or as I found myself at the 90K sign my brain was ‘hey Andy, just 10K, that is super easy’.  Little did I know that at 92K I would find the most rutted, slippery, shoe clogging mud ever experienced, I am grateful, as I’m sure you are too, that no one was around me at this point to hear the cursing that was flowing freely from my lips.

And there I was on the final stretch to the stones, 95…96…97K makers ticking off, despite body and mind feeling some effects of hours and hours running you can’t help but find a new lease of life and do a little jig.  100K was so close.  Then comes the crushing disappointment.  

For about a kilometre I had seen people running towards me, this in the dark and my brain fuddled state confused me, a pre-school Poppy and Sam book would have confused me at this point.  Why were they running the opposite way, surely not, have they finished and turned round the run back to the start; this is not beyond the realms of possibility in the ultra-running world.  Soon I was to discover ‘ the cone ‘.  I saw ahead of me a handful of people on the side of the road, a pub perhaps with patrons full of hops cheering us on but no, these were just a couple of the RTTS crew actually sitting in deck chairs, sporting hi-vis and with a traffic cone some 10 feet in front of them.  Approaching the instruction was to go round the cone and go back the way I had come, the finish was 2K in the direction I had just come from.

‘Where’s the stones’ I asked?  The response was the most underwhelming, unenthusiastic reply that could be mustered; ‘ over there ‘ pointing at a wooden 5 bar gate.  I could only surmise that in the darkness beyond were the stones.  I don’t mind admitting I was pissed.

"I'll never run RTTS again"

And that’s my overall feeling of this event.  I think it was once great, but now feels past it’s prime.  The cone was a huge disappointment, it appears they lost the permission to run round the stones a couple of years back.  I imagine an event organiser saying ‘ hey cone rhymes with stone ‘.  The finish also left me feeling disappointed, there were crew, family and friends of others clapping you in but then it’s a quick medal around your neck, and a photographer taking pictures you know they are going to charge you for in the days following the event.  On the London 2 Brighton there is a huge finishers banner, an oversized 100K sign, they take you to it, they ask for your phone, they take pictures of you – you feel knackered, elated, and proud.  Instantly there is a dramatic picture to text to anyone in your contact list.  Not so on RTTS.  I felt as if I didn’t matter to a single person of the crew at the end.

And the post event food, is awful.  Pizza that was so cheap and tasteless, potato wedges that I avoided but judging by comments from others were as awful as they looked.  And a car park with zero signage on how to exit, when you are tired just simple things like a WAY OUT sign or arrow are hugely appreciated.  The toilets too, in my mind, showed a lack of thought for those that had given their all to enter a gruelling event, they were mostly pretty grubby, often lacking paper and in some with foul obscenities written in marker pen on the walls; it seems someone really does not like the Tories!  

I compare this to 6 weeks ago on London 2 Brighton where they were spotless, there was a cleaner for each set of toilets who I observed going in each time someone had used one, giving it the once over, this ensured they were spotless and something I know many appreciated.  I myself always thanked the toilet attendant, commenting how clean they were and how much I appreciated it.  The organisers had considered clean toilets important, and that felt respectful.

The event just didn’t have the vibe for me.  It seems to exist hanging onto the glory of the past.  I met amazing people, loved the landscape but I won’t be entering RTTS again.

Footnote:

Shoutout to Austin in Ogbourne St George(?).  He was the young lad with his dad standing at the top of the village handing out sweets, biscuits and water.  A large handmade sign wishing us all well.  I love to see this kind of public interaction.  I stopped and chatted, then asked Dad’s permission to reward Austin for his kindness, a slightly damp £5 note was given as some pocket money.  Austin if you read this you are amazing, thank you for being so thoughtful.

Gear choice

Shoes – Hoka Speedgoat 5

Socks – Compresssport

Calf sleeves – Compresssport

Shorts – Nike Trail

Under shorts – T8 Commando

Base layer – Nike Pro

T Shirt – Nike technical

Pack – Ultimate Direction Mountain Vest 5

Rain Jacket – Proviz

Visor Cap – Compresssport

Fuel – Precision Hydration salts, chews, electrolyte tablets, High 5 gels, and Haribo Tangfastic, Optimum Nutrition pre-work shot.