Mudcrew Arc 50 Race Report
What a rollercoaster of a weekend/winter. I’ll break it down into chunks so you can get a feel for my experience. A bit like Jack Bauer in 24!
Pre-Race Prep
On Saturday 29th Jan I ran the Mudcrew Arc50, a 50mile race taking in some of Cornwall’s finest coast path. It is a race and course I am familiar with having raced it a couple of years ago but this time I hoped to run hard and fast, break my own course record and possibly the 8hr barrier.
The build up to the race hadn’t exactly gone to plan. I had built up to a good mileage through to the middle of December but then rolled my left ankle badly whilst descending a technical trail, damaging the ligaments. After a couple of weeks of rehab I was able to run again but only in a straight line. As a result, I was confined to pavement-pounding, not an ideal lead up to a coast path 50miler. Nonetheless, I was building a good ‘engine’, one that I knew would carry me strongly through the closing stages of the race.
In addition to these physical problems, I had been struggling mentally over winter. The stress of family life, work and running commitments had built up and I wasn’t sure how to deal with it all. I had a conundrum - running is usually where I turn in difficult times because its an instant stress relief. However, I was so exhausted and time-stricken, I was struggling to get out and when I did, it didn’t have the desired effect. Do I stop/ease-off to let things settle or trust that it will happen in due course? My answer was to taper, focus on the race at hand and hope that this was the fix I needed.
The Race
Just a few kilometres into the race, it became clear I had left my legs at home! The flats and downhills were OK (still not my usual state in the early stages of an ultramarathon) but the climbs were torture. I couldn’t run anything over a 5% gradient and, regardless of how I was moving, my glutes and quads were screaming at me. I felt like I was in the closing stages of a long race even during the early miles. As a result, the mental fatigue developed very early. There is only so long you can urge your legs to keep turning over.
I tried to pull the plug multiple times during the first half of the race but at my St Ives checkpoint, I hit an all time low. I went to a place I didn’t even know existed! With tears in my eyes, I told my crew that I just didn’t know if I had it in me today. Four and a half hours of torture and I was only half way. They offered support in the form of timings and positions but I explained none of that meant anything to me. This was an internal battle. My crew encouraged me to just start changing my shoes (I was donning road shoes for this section) to see how I feel. I slipped my shoes off and removed the hefty ankle brace I had been wearing to protect my dodgy ankle (rather successfully bar one eye-watering roll somewhere just before Cape Cornwall) whilst awkwardly craning my body to keep the muscle cramps at bay. With my bare feet in the open air, I thought of my children and all the emotions I had felt over the last couple of months. A swirl of adrenaline and I suddenly felt like someone had uncaged me. Before I knew it, I was motoring though the winding streets of St Ives with a clear vision of what was going to happen today.
Of course, this kind of ‘second-wind’ only lasts so long but it allowed me to get far enough down the path to where pulling out was no longer an option. And so I persevered, and pushed, and rallied and all the verbs we use to emphasise the struggles of ultra-marathoning. I crossed the line in 8:11 and change. I couldn’t care less. As I told my crew countless times during the day, position and time are irrelevant. Today was an internal battle which I had overcome.
The Aftermath
Following an awards ceremony (that was more about me chasing after my son than any celebration) I headed home with a withered body and tired mind…and a cough, and a headache, and dizziness. Do you see where this is going?! COVID positive less than 24hrs after I crossed the finish line.
Later that evening while feeling sorry for myself, I read a few ‘low blow’ messages on social media aimed at my crews behaviour. I send a few messages to make some sense of what was happening and how seriously I should take the allegations. I hadn’t heard anything from the organisers so I messaged them and was informed there had been complaints relating to me being paced over the dunes of doom.
A clear outline of what happened
I approached the Towans car park at the entrance to the dunes. I was still struggling but there was no talk of quitting any longer. After a brief stop, I ran off towards the dunes alone. 500m down the path, as you run past some houses and turn left down some steps, my crew member, Will, caught up behind me. He then followed me for just shy of 15min (2.5k) to the St Ives Bay Holiday park, at which point he turned back.
Subsequently, the race referee deemed that rules were broken and that I would be penalised.
My take on the whole thing
I believe the rules were broken. I do not dispute that in any way.
I was very clear with Mudcrew when I spoke to them (prior to any decision being made) - if I had been deemed to cheat, intentional or unintentional, then I would withdraw. I do not want to race like that and so the best thing for me would be to distance myself from the event. As I have described previously, it wasn’t about a course record or first place for me. It didn’t matter the size of the penalty, it was what it would mean.
Will is the unofficial photographer of the Cornish trail running scene, everyone who has had the good fortune of meeting him knows that. During this stint of running he took photos, talked briefly to me as I huffed and puffed my way over the dunes and nothing else. No navigation aid, no additional nutrition or kit.
I have issue with the way this rule is applied - when someone complains, the rule is taken as a black and white and the hammer is thrown down. However, as is clear in the comments that I have received, this behaviour happens all weekend without any repercussions or method of reinforcing it. I would ask for some more consistency.
The gravity of the punishment was out of proportion with the breach of rules (in my opinion) - 41 min penalty for someone running behind me for 15min. Even if I did benefit from it, it would be limited to a minute perhaps. So where 41min has come from is difficult to understand. AND I do believe that if this race rule had been documented in the event guide (for example ‘if your crew runs with you, the length of time you were accompanied will be doubled (inaccurately) and added to your final time) then no one would infringe on it. I would ask for clearer event rules and consequences.
Final Thoughts
The support from the trail running community has been incredible and I am eternally grateful for that. I was in a pretty low place when the comments started to surface but that quickly changed to where I am now - looking towards the future and my next challenge.
My crew was incredible on the day, both Will and my mum. The fact they got me to the finish line when I was ready to drop at 15miles says it all. Thank you for your dedication, and the pictures
I feel like this is all settling down. I don’t write this to restart proceedings, rather to shut this chapter and allow myself move on
Thanks for following along