The Main Event
Rick Pearson and team RW put their bodies on the line at the 43-mile Country to Capital race
Three fearless members of team RW tackle the 43-mile Country to Capital ultra. The rest of us quietly admire them and turn up the heating
OVER THE COURSE of one’s running career – and I use the term ‘career’ here in its loosest possible sense – there are landmark distances to be ticked off: a parkrun, a 10K, a marathon. For most people, the list used to stop there. But over recent years it has been appended with another, longer item: the ultramarathon. From the mountains of the Ultra-Trail du MontBlanc (UTMB) to the track of the 24-hour World Championships, a growing number of runners are testing their minds and bodies over distances normally reserved for motorised vehicles.
And so it was that three RW staff members found themselves gathered outside the Shoulder of Mutton pub in Wendover, Buckinghamshire, for the start of the Country to Capital. As a collective, our ultramarathon experience varied from ‘middling’ (me) to ‘zero’ (editor Andy Dixon and deputy editor Joe Mackie). However, encouraged by rumours such as ‘an ultramarathon is just an eating contest with some running thrown in’, here we were, ready to venture into the relatively unknown.
In fairness, if you were to pick a debut ultramarathon, you could do far worse than Country to Capital. For starters, it’s 43 miles, which, in ultra terms at least, is basically a sprint. It’s also relatively flat (the second half follows the Grand Union Canal) and well priced (£55). The route has the bonus of finishing in Little Venice, west London, an area replete with postrun pub options.
Plus, it’s an Ultra-Trail du Mont-Blanc (UTMB) qualifying event (just in case we got a taste for this running long malarkey). On the negative side, the race takes place in the depths of the British winter. Indeed, previous years have seen runners battle through sleet and snow. But then, that’s all part of the fun, right?
As it happened, the weather was perfect: crisp, clear and dry. And the first half of the route, along sections of the Ridgeway, Britain’s
oldest road, meandered through the kind of glorious English countryside that moves people to scribble poetry and crack out their easels.
After crossing the M25, we took in the delights of Denham village and a series of pubs that, on other occasions, would have demanded further investigation. Next stop: the Grand Union Canal.
Running along a canal has one major benefit: it’s almost impossible to get lost. So we packed away the map and focused on how increasingly terrible we were feeling. However, checkpoint three came with the news that we’d reached 26.5-mile mark – ultra-marathon territory. But how to mark this seismic event? Wear a Buff at a peculiar angle? Begin reciting a passage from Born to Run? No, we simply continued plodding eastwards in the direction of Paddington.
Being blunt, there are sections of the Grand Union Canal that are a little aesthetically challenging. The fly-tipping close to Greenford, for example. Moreover, the flatness of the canal – although welcome in many senses – was also monotonous.
By this point, we were in a sorry state, shuffling to the finish a ‘three miles on, half mile off’ run-walk strategy. But with 200m to go, we burst into a sprint (ie 9min/mile pace) and crossed the finish line together, eight hours and 17 minutes after we started. Slightly further ahead, Luke Delderfield had led the men home in a blistering 4:56:35, while Rebecca Ferry was first woman, in 5:53:16.
While those winning times are mightily impressive, the lasting memory of the Country to Capital will surely be how inclusive it felt. All ages, paces, body types and running styles were on show. We may have finished in vastly different times, but for a glorious day we shared the same towpath and the same goal: to get to London, and then a pub, as quickly as our legs would carry us.