After marshalling the Doynton Hard Half since the race began, it was finally my turn to run it! I had always wanted to give it a go but felt that such a challenging run was out of my league! Gary won the place at the summer Welly Wangling competition and after signing up for GMU offered his place to me. The next few months were spent building up the confidence to even agree to the transfer. Finally I agreed and that was that…..I would be running the 2020 DHHM. Gulp!

The day had arrived, I was awoken by the demons of self-doubt. I’m not afraid to admit that I even shed a few tears as I wondered if it was even possible for me to complete such a tough trail race. However, as I got ready it felt like luxury being the “runner” of the family instead of having to sort all the bits and bobs needed to marshal with the children.

It was a completely beautiful morning. Blue skies, sunshine and a sparkly thick frost. Perfect running weather! At least the universe was on my side even though the butterflies in my stomach were not! I was working hard on being my own inner cheerleader and quieting those doubting voices. I was actually running this race and I was determined to enjoy it.

After trying to remember all the steps for the “Greatest Showman” warm up, I was on the start line; chilly, nervous and excited! The race began, my plan was to keep a steady pace and finish within the cut off time. The lane was slippery and icy, but as we climbed up the first hill I began to warm up and relax into the atmosphere. I was pleased with how far I had actually managed to run up the hill before slowing into a determined walk. It was fab to spot Helen and Graham at the top of the hill and I managed to snatch the first of the “warm hugs” from our amazing EGRC marshals. The victory of the first hill was short lived as the next hill and the one after that rolled into view. Knuckle down and push on! 

The famous Doynton “wet mud” did not disappoint and greeted us almost immediately. It grabbed at our feet, making sure we knew that this was no ordinary run. It felt as if we were crossing swamps and we were only about 2 miles in! One runner sank thigh deep and another lost a shoe whilst another shouted for help as they were stuck fast. Kari and I jumped from tuft to tuft and managed to cross unscathed. The nerves were gone and I found myself with a big grin, loving it!

The views were stunning and I was chuffed to find I was running at a steady pace. I chatted to other runners, avoided deep mud, enjoyed the sunshine and kept on grinning! At the top of the next hill “Death” suddenly appeared. I had a quick check to make sure there were no vultures circling and was relieved to realise that I hadn’t actually died despite the steep hill! The best bit of running up any hill, of course, is running down after. I let myself go and “bombed” it down the other side, whooping a bit as I ran.

The stream crossing was up next. The torrential rains of Storm Bernard from the previous week had made sure there was plenty of stream to cross. The way in and out was steep and slippery, I wondered how I might ever make it out the other side, but with some marshal encouragement and serious scrambling I conquered the first water crossing. Next, was a narrow and slippery track, a fallen log (awkwardly scrambled over, much to the Doynton Godfather, Pete Blanchard’s amusement) and then onto a seriously muddy/streamy/swampy section. Luckily for me, this one was supported  by “The Slogettes” marshals, aka Leanne, Lucy and Jules. In normal circumstances they would be by my side holding me up, but today their cheers of encouragement and of course “warm hugs” were all I had. Their pink cowboy hats helped too and I was soon through and onto the next bit!

The next few miles of hills, mud, ice and uneven ground continued on. The end of the first loop seamlessly led to the second loop. My plan was to con myself into believing each new loop was the beginning of a new run and not just more miles! It seemed to work and I was still running! I loved running on the wooded trails especially. Checking my footing and watching out for branches makes the time fly by for me. It’s those eternal fields that I find so difficult. Each field crossing means a ton of mud clinging to your trainers as well as hoping your ankles stay in one piece on the uneven ground. I couldn’t decide whether to run on the slightly flatter tracks the faster runners had made and risk slipping in the churned-up mud or to run at the less muddy side and risk tripping! I zig zagged indecisively across most fields. There was in fact, no easy choice…. after all this race didn’t get it’s name for nothing…this is the Hard Half!

Unexpectedly, I was still enjoying myself and had met lots of different runners along the way. There is nothing quite like the running community for offering support. My legs were getting tired and at 9 miles my body felt like it does at the end of a full half… but there were still 4 miles to go! I dug in and kept going. It was a fabulous boost to see Gary, Noah and Jemima on the last water station, although the Chas and Dave sound track they were playing was not so welcome! I had also missed the sloe Gin shots the locals had brought out!

 

It was finally the start of the last lap and “only a parkrun” to go. I could no longer feel my legs and did wonder if they were still running at all! Still, I seemed to be moving forwards so all must be good. I got a little emotional when I saw Hayley at the 12 mile mark….so close, but a hard mile still to go. A “warm hug” to get me through and I dug in again. Half a mile to go and some road to run on! Brilliant….except we were soon turning into yet another field!! And this one lived up to the promised “Cow Mud”. Slimy, smelly and slippery! And for added delight, thick pieces of ice floating on the top. Knowing there was only half a mile to go spurred me on. I checked my watch….I was going to finish within the cut off too! The sound of the Samba band filled the air, nearly there! I turned into the field to finish and couldn’t resist a bit of a dance to the band and then on to the welcomed end. Amazingly, I still managed to find a sprint finish, to the cheers of the amazing “Slogettes”. I cried with joy, almost puked and sat on the floor. Chip time was 3:14 and I couldn’t have been prouder! I did it! I ran the Doynton Hard Half! I loved every minute but next year I will be marshalling…… and the year after that!