After three
years of supporting yours truly during 24-hour races, Sonic decided to throw
down the gauntlet and go for GB qualification himself. After his phenomenal run on
the West Highland Way Race, I bullied him into submitting his entry form for
Tooting Bec 24-hour track race. Note: I’m only on the second sentence and
already taking credit for it.
Sonic doesn’t
lack confidence and self-belief, which is something that will take him further
than his skinny legs. He had a goal that
some people may have quaffed at, way beyond the 235km minimum team standard
qualification. But as they say: Fortune
favours the brave.
When we
arrived in Tooting on Friday afternoon, I told Sonic to rest up and I would go
and do all the shopping. Apparently four bananas would not suffice, he needed
“at least 12”. Eight slices of caramel shortcake wouldn’t cut it. At least three packs were required. Yes, 24 slices of caramel shortcake. Along
with 20 9-Bars, chicken breasts, a family-sized block of cheese, various snacks and a million litres of drinks. Four
trips to Sainsburys – and a broken back – later I was done. And done in.
I decided to go for a little run and check out the track location. Tooting is crazy busy and after an afternoon of negotiating my way through the High Street – with their pound shops, halal meat counters and betting shops aplenty – I was glad to head to the leafy area of Tooting Common.
I was glad to
have done the recce run – I do love a good recce – as the taxi driver in
the morning would have have taken us to the wrong sports’ centre.
It was a bit
surreal turning up to a race with only 45 participants and trackside packed
with tents and open-boot buffet displays.
We found some
spare grass and after asking another runner, Marcus, to move his car over (I
know, the cheek of it!) we pitched up next to Fionna Cameron’s pit-stop - with
the lovely Keziah on duty - and Richie Cunningham’s crew of Drew Sheffield and
Claire Shelley opposite. The official
Team Scotland camp!
Team Scotland. Richard Brown centre |
You know
you’re in a new age of social media friendship swhen you find yourself more and
more having introductions that start like Nici’s: “You don’t know me, but I follow you on
Twitter” and Ali’s “I read your GUCR report”.
Supporting Stephen Woodus (aka Woody) they were an absolute riot to hang
out with. And thankfully they were
around to help erect a brand-new-out-of-the-packet gazebo we had brought down
for the occasion. I kind of looked like
a Punch and Judy tent, but it did the trick.
Just to put the GB pressure on, my team mates Emily Gelder and Karen Hathaway came along to help me out. A team manager, Richard Brown was there scouting for fresh kill.
I’m not going
to write about the race. Mainly because
I didn’t run the race. And Sonic is
threatening to write his own blog post! So, here’s the lowdown
on Team Scotland.
Sonic: 1st place with 248km (154miles)
For the
purpose of this report, I will now refer to him as SuperSonic. If you followed the race or happen to be one
of his aforementioned “social media friends”, you will know he absolutely
smashed it. The most impressive bit was he managed to keep a lid on it at the
beginning. Even when he was knocked to
eighth place because of his scheduled walking breaks. Pushing through he took the lead a few hours
in and pushed a bit more to finish with a mere 20-mile lead.
He was overly smug about beating my 100K time
and I was overly restrained to tell him that I’ve only ever run one 100k and it
was a piss-poor performance. Then he hit
100 miles at 14:31 and broke through the 235km GB team qualify with an hour and
a half to spare.
I’d secretly packed a
Union Jack and asked the lap counters to make an announcement so he could do a
victory lap. Then whipped the flag off
him and sent him on to punch -out another 13 kilometres. A total of 620 laps to clock 154 miles
(248km)
That’s the
best distance by a GB athlete this year.
Third on the all-time Scottish list – behind the records and seemingly
unbreakable 166m distance set by Don Ritchie and 154 miles by Mick Francis. All
in a debut 24-hour race.
Just for the
record though, he only ate four bananas and two slices of the caramel
shortcake. If you see any flightless birds around Tooting, don't blame me!
Fionna Cameron: 1st lady, 2nd overall with
216km (134 miles) Another sterling debut performance, with 134
miles (216km). There must be something in the water at Aberdeen Asset, as Marco
and Fionna work in the same office.
Fionna is lovely, yet very determined. Actually if you were to look up “lovely” in a
Thesaurus, Fionna could be the first alternative. The 24-hour did something
strange to her character though. There
was spitting, snot-rockets and tantrums.
Thank god! Don't want her
showing up the GM and I at the next GB outing.
Stephen
Mason: 5th with 198kms and (123 miles) I ran with Stephen on the Scotland team
in my first 24 hour race in 2011. He went round like and train and came through
a few – understandable – rough patches.
At one point I had to shout at him, as he was running around having
nodding off. I kid you not!
Richie
Cunningham: 7th with 194 kms (120 miles)
What can I say about Richie? He showed he’s a true Scotsman by spending
the vast majority of the weekend spewing and slurring his words. I’m not sure when he starting the projectile
vomiting, but it pretty much lasted the duration. Heroic or stubborn? Either way, there was no stopping him. Even defying the medics. Like a Weeble: He just wobbled, but he didn’t fall down. I’m
not sure how he did it but he clocked 120 miles on absolutely no fuel.
The
Aftermath.
This was when the fun started. Firstly,
Sonic collapsed. Personally, I think he was just enjoying lapping up the
attention of the female medics. Then he
proceeded to thank EVERYONE within a mile radius for their amazing support and
encouragement. Not even a single mutter
to me, who had spent 24 hours on a trackside!
And, quite frankly, you should never underestimate the difference an experienced support
crew can make ;-)
After leaving him in the capable hands
of the professionals, I went off (in a huff) to pack up the stuff and get Sonic’s
after race kit. On return, Richard Brown accused me of “being very nonchalant” about the distress my husband was in. I would
have explained, but I’d already chewed my tongue off by that point. Then Sonic collapsed again. When his lap counter appeared to congratulate
him, he was practically crying with gratitude. I might look really tired in this
picture, but I’m (shamefully!) contemplating whipping my legs out from
underneath his head ;-)
All very childish in the cold light of day. I've been there and I know how grateful you are. Let's put it down to sleep deprivation!
All very childish in the cold light of day. I've been there and I know how grateful you are. Let's put it down to sleep deprivation!
The prize-giving was lovely. It was so nice that everyone’s efforts were
recognised. Especially, Geoff Oliver who at
the grand age of 80 had set SEVEN new world records during the race. Then turned up in the prize giving in a shirt
and tie and gave a wonderful heartfelt speech. It was an honour and a privilege
to watch his amazing performance. Sonic was obviously using his race
tactics to take him out during the hours of darkness (see left). I would like to know what Geoff was listening to on his ipod though.
Then we had to get the train from
Euston to Glasgow. And we still had to get the Tube to Euston. For both of us, this
could officially be the worst experience of our lives. Sonic was broken, sick and emotional and I
was carrying three duffel bags through London.
It was nothing short of a nightmare. I liken it to trying to negotiate
with a bad tempered drunk.
On the tube, Sonic decided he was going
to drop down and sleep. At the door! I
couldn’t even help him, as I was trying to balance all the bags on my body. My head was going to explode with the weight
on my shoulders and I’d lost all feeling in my hands.
This picture makes me laugh so much, I have used it as the contact picture on my mobile, so pops up every time Sonic calls me.
There were works on the tube line, so we had to
get three trains to Euston. Of
course, I did my best support job and accepted that everything was my fault. Of course.
I did have to giggle when I looked back to see him shuffling along,
muttering expletives to himself It was
less comical though, when he decided he was too warm (also my fault) and stopped
dead in the middle of an unforgiving fast-moving hoard of people to roll up his
trousers. That really set off the
look. Thankfully it was London and
therefore no one bats an eyelid at neurotic behaviour. Even when he staggered along the platform
with his trousers rolled to his knees – his carrier bags of trophies in each hand –
and then stopped to slide down the wall in tears. In hindsight, it’s hilarious. Hey, don’t judge me. Sonic posted a video on You Tube of me after
my first 24-hour race. If had any feeling in my hands, I might have
done the same.
Then we finally made it to Euston. Of course our reserved seats on the Virgin
train had to be at the opposite side. I swear it took us 15 minutes to walk the
length of the train. I’ve never been so
happy to sit down - or for Sonic to pass out - in my life.
Even after all that, whoever says supporting is
harder than running is at it. I had a great time.
Some random pictures on Flickr here