Why do I love the Clarendon?
Late bloomer
I didn’t start running marathons until I had reached the venerable age of 50 and realised that I was getting older and plumper. With the kids having left for University, my wife and I decided to move from the suburbia to central London, closer to work - and to the Thames Footpath: a great place to run every morning at 4.45am and still be at work by 7.30!
In no time I signed up for the London and the New York marathons, and this was followed by many road races throughout Europe and the US.
Run and guide
Fifteen years later, the time came to retire from the NHS where I had worked as an Eye Surgeon for over 40 years and my wife and I swapped the Big Smoke for a livestock farm in Somerset: a different live style and a very different terrain to run in. Although managing a farm is a busy job, I also started volunteering for Somerset Sight, a local independent charity which supports people with visual impairment throughout Somerset. The charity also supports an army of volunteer visitors who help to combat the loneliness which is so common among blind people (www.somersetsight.org.uk).
Through this charity I also met a young man who lost all his sight as a teenager. Blindness did not diminish his sporting prowess as a member of the Paralympic judo team in the past and now he was keen to run. Over the past 5 years, we have been training together at least a couple of times a week and after a few half marathons, my running buddy took the plunge and joined me in a couple of road marathons! Running such races gives us an opportunity to fundraise for our charity and this year alone we have raised over £7,000.
Why the Clarendon?
Initially, I was attracted by the idea of a local race (40 minutes’ drive from our farm) and was rewarded by the sheer beauty of the countryside and the far reaching views - once you have climbed the many hills which can be a challenge for even younger and fitter runners! I have now run 4 Clarendons and each time I’ve been impressed by the beautiful autumnal weather which JJ, the Race Director, said he could (almost) guarantee every year…
That is until this year’s Atlantic storm produced the wettest two days on record. Officially named “Storm Alex” by the weather forecast people. The deluge on the day before the race flooded many trails knee high and turned many narrow footpaths into muddy ski slopes.
As befits someone in the oldest age category I signed up for an early start (8:20am) and set off into the driving rain with my arms kept warm by some old white ski socks. On more than one occasion this generated comments such as “Respect for running the marathon with both arms in plaster!” I explained that the theoretical advantage of wearing socks on your arms is that they can be pulled down in case of overheating - no chance of that on that rainy windy race day…
I expected to end up pretty wet and initially I tried to minimise the risk of blisters by running along the edges of the puddles - only to end up getting my bare legs stung by nettles which festooned the narrow tracks on both sides. Soon it became obvious that getting very wet was preferable to getting continually stung and after the first few deep icy puddles I actually enjoyed running through these flooded obstacles. Far from being perceived as a sign of desperation, my splashing about in the muddy puddles earned me applause from the ever good natured marshals on more than one occasion.
The run along the Roman Road seemed like a just reward as it was lovely and firm under foot as well as being wide enough to avoid water. I enjoyed looking at the farms along this stretch of the course eying enviously their chalky soil (our farm is on heavy clay and doesn’t lend itself to overwintering our cattle outside). The views of the countryside were breath taking in spite of the keen side wind. This delight was soon over once we started the climb up Farley Mount as the narrow track was seriously muddy and slippery. I was very envious of those runners who wore cross country shoes rather than the road type which I had on.
I greatly admired the kindness of the marshals (often accompanied by their families) who were altogether magnificent and seemed at their happiest when they poured water at arm’s length from closed jugs into our own cups. We were advised to bring our own cups from home - all this to maintain a safe distance from the huffing and puffing runners.
Indeed, many of us became aware that the weather and the physical challenges along the Clarendon route did not really compare to the enormous obstacles posed by the current pandemic. I was greatly impressed by the Organising Committee’s resolve to implement the rules and regulations to ensure our safety. Alas, many races throughout the Country were not so fortunate. The Committee could not have managed to put on this race without the leadership of JJ Heath-Caldwell, the Race Director. JJ and his marshals made sure that we maintained social distancing not just at the start and at the finish but kept us on message throughout the race (which JJ also ran in!).
My only regret is that my blind running buddy couldn’t face the many obstacles posed by this year’s Clarendon but I promised to make it up to him next year!
