A few kilometres later it was turning off time. Prepared, I forged on into the night, on wide forest track, passing small groups of two and three runners between long minutes of lone running, just the hoots of owls disturbed by the extra commotion in their territory.Ĭhecking off 40km, I became aware that my headtorch really needed a battery change, but being stubborn I limped on to checkpoint 5 at 44km to use their lights to see to change my batteries. It’s the time to fuel up and prepare for the drop zone – those hours of the night when your body tells you that it’s time to sleep and losing concentration is very easy. Heading into the 32km aid station, I had to take a seat between mouthfuls of water melon and get the stones out.įour or so hours into an ultra, with the darkest hours before dawn to come, is not the time to run through aid stations. We shared a few greetings, before I kicked on to put some distance between us, but aware I’d picked up some gravel in my right shoe. Still the race was young, and there was time for her to rally. I had a feeling that first 10km climb had been attacked too aggressively and she wasn’t moving as sharply. Ever the hunter, I spent a few minutes assessing her movements. In the next 7km to the Nava de Espino checkpoint and deep into the forests, I caught, tracked behind, and then overtook the woman who had passed me earlier. The next 10km to the third checkpoint was uneventful. Wide forest jeep trail increased the space between us as we descended into the second aid station at Los Rasos (15km) where the race had gained an extra volunteer in the shape of a juvenile fox sitting watching the proceeding, his pricked ears caught in headtorch beams. Just a quick cup of isotonic – it was a warm night and I’d been puffing and blowing uphill, sweating hard, with another 4km hard ascent to go before the first descent. The first checkpoint at 6km was a fast affair. As it turned out, I was to vie with another woman throughout the night. You can’t get caught up in someone else’s run if you want to finish. I wanted to chase, but experience kicked in… I had to run my own race. My lungs were bursting and I was breathing far too hard to sustain a 100km. At this stage, I had no idea where I was but I did know the pace was far too aggressive. I did not feel pressured, just the thrill of the race atmosphere.Īt about 4km in someone shouted: “Are you first?” in English, as they passed apologies, I have no idea who you are, but I’d replied “No!” with a laugh. To be fair, all were polite, giving plenty of space and indicating which side they were passing on. We were barely on the outskirts of the town, and around a kilometre into the race before they were pouring past, vying for a good position as we threaded our way, single file, zig-zagging uphill for 6km. The elite men were long gone, but the next group – the team runners (all men) – were hot on our heels and quickly beating down our minute head start. His chivvying actually got me out of the door of our accommodation earlier! If it hadn’t been for Steve, I’d have missed the start as I was all set to saunter up a few minutes before the start forgetting the extended protocols requiring more time. Not really realizing what was planned, it had been a mad panic to find my thermal blanket (the spot-check mandatory kit I’d been requested to present before being allowed enter the starting pen), and then to find my place in the socially distanced second group, switch my headlight on, and calm my nerves. I’d been willing to start further back but we’d all been grouped together as a homage to us female warriors, while also setting up a competitive race. With a staggered start, the field of 20 or so women had started in the second group, behind the elite men. Not the one I wanted to win – but the one I wanted to thoroughly enjoy – but of course I’d give it my best shot. In 2019 a large group running holiday booking at the same time as the race meant I had to forfeit my place, we all know what happened in 2020, and so 2021 it was. Then I made a pact to return and tackle the Ultra… which took me three years to achieve. I’d said this before about Bosque del Sur held in the natural park of the Sierra de Cazorla, Segura and Las Villas when I last ran in the area during the Marathon in 2018. It was a wonderful time to be on the most beautiful trail race. The first rays of the sun were reaching across the trail and we were starting to ascend gradually on a beautiful soft single track, skipping around the odd rock, listening to the birds welcoming the light, nostrils filled with the scent of thyme, which blossomed merrily at our feet. Squint at that little stream of light behind the castle… I’m in there somewhere.
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