Dorset Invader Marathon. Saturday 29 July 2017.
This was my second white star running event as I had previously ram the Larmer Tree marathon back in February. I had really fancied entering this one for a while.
As per usual I had a very early start, and made my way down to race HQ in East Farm, which is not far from Blandford Forum. As I arrived a friendly marshal directed me into a field where I parked up, I could see in the adjacent field the camping site and the start/finish area. One of the great things about these white star events is that they turn it into a weekend event. You could camp, there was a 10K, a half and a night race as well as a barn dance organised.
It's always great when you can park close to the finish line, the last thing you need is a long walk when you've just run 26 miles!
I made my way over to the registration tent and was handed my race number and embedded timing chip. I pinned those onto my t-shirt and made my way in search of a coffee.
This race was Roman themed (the clue is in the name - Dorset Invader!) When the Romans invaded Britain, they had (apparently) landed in Dorset and made camp around the area we were due to run around.
So in the spirit of the race, I had decided to dress in fancy costume for the race dressed as Roman centurion solider, along with the tunic, cape and helmet. Seemed like a good idea at the time...
It was amusing seeing other people dressed up too, there were a field full of Julius Caesars, Centurions and Roman ladies. I was even stopped by a random stranger who asked me for selfie, so she could prove to her mates that people dressed up for White Star races! We got chatting and introduced herself as Clare, she was in training for a triathlon.
I quickly found the coffee - bargain at a pound, and had a quick nosy around the barn and the race village while I waited for the start. I also discovered a cold plunge pool (signed as 'Frigidarium', given it wasn't a particularly warm day I didn't like the look of that!)
As per usual for White Star, there were plenty of loos available and no real queues to speak of. One of the great things about these races is that they are small enough not to feel crowded but no so small that they are intimidating. Just right.
The time quickly ticked by and very soon the race director - Andy - invited us runners to walk over to the start for a briefing.
I bumped into my running buddy Jayne and her friends, one of whom was running her first ever marathon. Of course, I was the only one silly enough to wearing fancy dress... ha ha!
As Andy gave the briefing it had just started to gently rain, a sign of things to come. By now I was also having 'wardrobe malfunctions' the damn helmet was coming off every 5 seconds. Still, couldn't be as bad as running in a toga for 26 miles in basically a white sheet. Or could it?
The race director had arranged a chap on horseback, dressed in full roman costume to lead the runners at the start. As the horse and rider approached, there was a small gasp of amazement from the runners, they looked that convincing. There was also a boy on a pony dressed similarly which was brilliant.
Suddenly the start klaxon went off, and we were off! The horse galloped away along with all the speedy runners into the distance, with the rest of us following, with me right at the back as per usual.
The first few miles we were winding our way along a stony trail and then around the edge of corn fields. This wasn't too bad, there was a fair amount of grip and it was easy to make progress. I was doing my Galloway method of 90 seconds run, 30 seconds walk on the flats, and power walking up the hills. For the first few miles this was working really well and I made good progress.
By now the gentle rain had increased in intensity to pretty heavy rain, and the trails were turning into slippy mud baths. The wind was also beginning to pick up, and any notion of being too hot had gone right out of the window. As I got to the first water station at 3 miles, I'd had enough of the blasted helmet keep slipping away - I'd been forced to carry it - so ditched it with a marshal. Top tip - don't wear a stupid helmet if you're running a marathon.
I got chatting to some fellow runners, including a chap who was doing his 92nd marathon! This was 'only' my 36th but it was inspirational to see someone getting so close to that 100 goal. On one of the corners we passed the chap on horseback who had set us off at the start, I stopped for a brief chat and of course to take a picture. He must have been freezing sitting on that horse in the rain!
The aid stations on the race were really good - loads of water, squash, and nibbles and they were every 3-4 miles which was very good. The hills weren't too bad. I got chatting to a lady called Brenda and her running buddy Brian. Somehow we managed to miss a sign and walked through some woods before realising we had got lost! We saw runners in the distance and made our way across the field and re joined the race - this cost us about an extra mile and perhaps 12-13 minutes of running time though.
As we passed through the next aid station I got chatting to a fellow runner who introduced himself as Mike, and we ran together for a few miles. Well, I say run, but by now the course conditions had become absolutely dreadful. It was torrential rain, cold and very muddy. Going uphill was really difficult, as it was just a nightmare to get any grip without your feet going over all the place. Chatting to Mike helped those miles tick by quickly though, as we swapped stories about races. Turned out Mike had a white star season pass and had run many of the races, so it was good to hear about those.
Mike had suffered from a bit of cramp and I had pulled away and on we went. At last there was a slightly easier section of the course, this was on a disused railway line and went on for a few miles. It was good to be able to run again.
I went through a decommissioned train station at Spetisbury - with the friendliest ever marshal. I then went down some very slippy and steep steps which bought me back on the trails again, and the dreaded mud.
By now the course was a total quagmire and running was pretty much out of the question, I just walked fast as best I could. Coping with the mud made it really tough and burnt lots of energy.
Fortunately I had my usual supply of mini cheddars and mars bars with me, plus I was eating all the sweeties at the aid stations! It was getting a little grim by now.
Going through thick mud and getting your feet soaked - and potentially slipping over in it; or going round the worst of it - again, slipping over. Hobsons choice! By now the cape of my costume was wringing wet and covered in mud, and becoming a bit of a hindrance so I folded it over on itself as best as I could, made me look a bit silly but then I was already looking stupid enough as it was.
Finally I turned a corner and there like a little oasis in the mud was the 'love station'. This is like the mother of all aid stations. I was enthusiastically cheered in by the lovely marshals, given a kiss and offered a shot of booze. There was also a wide variety of very tasty looking food on offer - sweets, nuts, crisps, sausage rolls, mini scotch eggs, brownies, flap jack, chocolate cake... you get the idea. This was a massive boost and just in time as I was beginning to get a bit fed up with all the slipping and sliding.
Reluctantly I left the love station behind and carried on. Back to the mud and the hills. By now the hills were getting pretty steep, including one hill where I had to walk like 'John Wayne' just to get some footing. This with trail shoes on - I needed spikes really! After continuing up some more hills, more mud, and getting more and more soaked I reached the end of the first lap which was near a quad bike centre. A friendly marshal directed me to turn left and it was time to start it all over again. Fortunately this wasn't right from the start, but a shorter lap along with a slightly different finish.
The sign told us to 'keep running forward' and this was what I just had to do - by now it had turned into a slog. My watch told me I had around 10 miles left to do. I revisited the same fields, the same farms and train track and old railway station with it's dodgy steps. Went past the field full of solar panels again - don't think much electricity was being generated today though. It felt good though, knowing that this was my second and final lap. There was of course, also a second visit to the love station. By now the lovely ladies at the love station I think had enough themselves, although they did their best to make me feel welcome and ply me with food and water. It was such a shame about the weather.
So the second lap carried on and it was just more of the same, until finally we reached the made-up paths which we had gone out on right back at the start. It was such a relief to get a harder surface and actually get running again.
There was a sting in the tail though. We went through a deserted farm and the signs kind of petered out. I was not sure were to go at all, and guessed the route - luckily I picked correctly. There was a turn to take us off the trail we had gone out on and back to the muddy and slippy paths. My watch was reading 27 miles by now and I just wanted it finished. There was one final hill to get up, which was very steep and very slippery, and I muttered some very rude words under my breath cursing the race director. It was a relief to get to the top of that, by now I was really tired, cold and soaked through to the skin.
I kept going for another mile, came through a small copse and out onto the top of the hill - suddenly I could see East Farm below me and the finish line. Thank heavens for that.
The field wasn't too muddy and I was able to run down the hill. The finish line was now well in sight. My watch told me as I approached the finish that I had run just under 29 miles. As if it wasn't hard enough, there was an extra almost 3 miles to the race! It was a massive relief to finally cross that timing mat. I was given a hug by two very lovely lady marshals, and they hung my finishers medal. I was also given my finishers goody bag - this had an awesome buff and a really nice jar of local Dorset jam.
I did have to laugh at the cold pool, some crazy nutter had jumped in after his race to "cool off" - as if it wasn't cold enough already! I discovered a tap and tried to get as much mud off my shoes as I could, but even so they were totally caked in it. I made my way back to the car and got some warm clothes on. My trainers were a total mess and socks a total right off. My legs were just mud covered by now. Everything hurt and I could barely walk by now. Sign of a good race!
This was my second white star running event as I had previously ram the Larmer Tree marathon back in February. I had really fancied entering this one for a while.
As per usual I had a very early start, and made my way down to race HQ in East Farm, which is not far from Blandford Forum. As I arrived a friendly marshal directed me into a field where I parked up, I could see in the adjacent field the camping site and the start/finish area. One of the great things about these white star events is that they turn it into a weekend event. You could camp, there was a 10K, a half and a night race as well as a barn dance organised.
It's always great when you can park close to the finish line, the last thing you need is a long walk when you've just run 26 miles!
This race was Roman themed (the clue is in the name - Dorset Invader!) When the Romans invaded Britain, they had (apparently) landed in Dorset and made camp around the area we were due to run around.
So in the spirit of the race, I had decided to dress in fancy costume for the race dressed as Roman centurion solider, along with the tunic, cape and helmet. Seemed like a good idea at the time...
It was amusing seeing other people dressed up too, there were a field full of Julius Caesars, Centurions and Roman ladies. I was even stopped by a random stranger who asked me for selfie, so she could prove to her mates that people dressed up for White Star races! We got chatting and introduced herself as Clare, she was in training for a triathlon.I quickly found the coffee - bargain at a pound, and had a quick nosy around the barn and the race village while I waited for the start. I also discovered a cold plunge pool (signed as 'Frigidarium', given it wasn't a particularly warm day I didn't like the look of that!)
As per usual for White Star, there were plenty of loos available and no real queues to speak of. One of the great things about these races is that they are small enough not to feel crowded but no so small that they are intimidating. Just right.
 |
| Pint of Dorset Knob, anyone? |
The time quickly ticked by and very soon the race director - Andy - invited us runners to walk over to the start for a briefing. I bumped into my running buddy Jayne and her friends, one of whom was running her first ever marathon. Of course, I was the only one silly enough to wearing fancy dress... ha ha!
As Andy gave the briefing it had just started to gently rain, a sign of things to come. By now I was also having 'wardrobe malfunctions' the damn helmet was coming off every 5 seconds. Still, couldn't be as bad as running in a toga for 26 miles in basically a white sheet. Or could it?
The race director had arranged a chap on horseback, dressed in full roman costume to lead the runners at the start. As the horse and rider approached, there was a small gasp of amazement from the runners, they looked that convincing. There was also a boy on a pony dressed similarly which was brilliant.
Suddenly the start klaxon went off, and we were off! The horse galloped away along with all the speedy runners into the distance, with the rest of us following, with me right at the back as per usual.
By now the gentle rain had increased in intensity to pretty heavy rain, and the trails were turning into slippy mud baths. The wind was also beginning to pick up, and any notion of being too hot had gone right out of the window. As I got to the first water station at 3 miles, I'd had enough of the blasted helmet keep slipping away - I'd been forced to carry it - so ditched it with a marshal. Top tip - don't wear a stupid helmet if you're running a marathon.
I got chatting to some fellow runners, including a chap who was doing his 92nd marathon! This was 'only' my 36th but it was inspirational to see someone getting so close to that 100 goal. On one of the corners we passed the chap on horseback who had set us off at the start, I stopped for a brief chat and of course to take a picture. He must have been freezing sitting on that horse in the rain!
The aid stations on the race were really good - loads of water, squash, and nibbles and they were every 3-4 miles which was very good. The hills weren't too bad. I got chatting to a lady called Brenda and her running buddy Brian. Somehow we managed to miss a sign and walked through some woods before realising we had got lost! We saw runners in the distance and made our way across the field and re joined the race - this cost us about an extra mile and perhaps 12-13 minutes of running time though.
As we passed through the next aid station I got chatting to a fellow runner who introduced himself as Mike, and we ran together for a few miles. Well, I say run, but by now the course conditions had become absolutely dreadful. It was torrential rain, cold and very muddy. Going uphill was really difficult, as it was just a nightmare to get any grip without your feet going over all the place. Chatting to Mike helped those miles tick by quickly though, as we swapped stories about races. Turned out Mike had a white star season pass and had run many of the races, so it was good to hear about those.
Mike had suffered from a bit of cramp and I had pulled away and on we went. At last there was a slightly easier section of the course, this was on a disused railway line and went on for a few miles. It was good to be able to run again.
I went through a decommissioned train station at Spetisbury - with the friendliest ever marshal. I then went down some very slippy and steep steps which bought me back on the trails again, and the dreaded mud.
By now the course was a total quagmire and running was pretty much out of the question, I just walked fast as best I could. Coping with the mud made it really tough and burnt lots of energy. Fortunately I had my usual supply of mini cheddars and mars bars with me, plus I was eating all the sweeties at the aid stations! It was getting a little grim by now.
Going through thick mud and getting your feet soaked - and potentially slipping over in it; or going round the worst of it - again, slipping over. Hobsons choice! By now the cape of my costume was wringing wet and covered in mud, and becoming a bit of a hindrance so I folded it over on itself as best as I could, made me look a bit silly but then I was already looking stupid enough as it was.
Reluctantly I left the love station behind and carried on. Back to the mud and the hills. By now the hills were getting pretty steep, including one hill where I had to walk like 'John Wayne' just to get some footing. This with trail shoes on - I needed spikes really! After continuing up some more hills, more mud, and getting more and more soaked I reached the end of the first lap which was near a quad bike centre. A friendly marshal directed me to turn left and it was time to start it all over again. Fortunately this wasn't right from the start, but a shorter lap along with a slightly different finish.
So the second lap carried on and it was just more of the same, until finally we reached the made-up paths which we had gone out on right back at the start. It was such a relief to get a harder surface and actually get running again.
There was a sting in the tail though. We went through a deserted farm and the signs kind of petered out. I was not sure were to go at all, and guessed the route - luckily I picked correctly. There was a turn to take us off the trail we had gone out on and back to the muddy and slippy paths. My watch was reading 27 miles by now and I just wanted it finished. There was one final hill to get up, which was very steep and very slippery, and I muttered some very rude words under my breath cursing the race director. It was a relief to get to the top of that, by now I was really tired, cold and soaked through to the skin.
I kept going for another mile, came through a small copse and out onto the top of the hill - suddenly I could see East Farm below me and the finish line. Thank heavens for that.
The field wasn't too muddy and I was able to run down the hill. The finish line was now well in sight. My watch told me as I approached the finish that I had run just under 29 miles. As if it wasn't hard enough, there was an extra almost 3 miles to the race! It was a massive relief to finally cross that timing mat. I was given a hug by two very lovely lady marshals, and they hung my finishers medal. I was also given my finishers goody bag - this had an awesome buff and a really nice jar of local Dorset jam.
I did have to laugh at the cold pool, some crazy nutter had jumped in after his race to "cool off" - as if it wasn't cold enough already! I discovered a tap and tried to get as much mud off my shoes as I could, but even so they were totally caked in it. I made my way back to the car and got some warm clothes on. My trainers were a total mess and socks a total right off. My legs were just mud covered by now. Everything hurt and I could barely walk by now. Sign of a good race!
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