"I am The Human Guinea Pig. By now, I’m supposed to be as tough as old boots: ready for any challenge thrown at me. So why did the prospect of running the Morecambe Bay Half Marathon turn me into a quivering jelly?
Was it the thought of failing in front of hundreds of thousands of TV viewers? Was it fear of the unknown as I looked out into the murky bay, the strong wind, the mud flats and the salt marshes? I sought solace in the portable loos. I didn’t need to go. But I did. Three or four times.
Then we were off - four hundred of us, spluttering, gasping and pounding our way towards little Hest Bank, somewhere out there beyond the threatening dark cloud.
I dodged the boulders, and carefully avoided every puddle to keep my nice new trainers dry. Until, that is, I hit the mud bath, followed by the first of the water obstacles – which not only covered my shoes, but my throbbing knees.
They’d warned us we’d get wet – very wet. But no-one, not even the ancient mariner, could have expected water, water to be everywhere.
Soon though we were bouncing on sprawling, flat sand, and going like the wind. The wind was pushing us along like a friend in a time of need. And then even the sun fought its way through the gloom to uplift us.
By now the front runners were becoming ant-like silhouettes near the horizon, which returned me to my pre-race panic. I risked a glance back, expecting to see only sand and water and sand. But there were runners. Lots of them. “Look at all those people behind me!” I yelled at my cameraman. “Yippee!”
My yoga teacher would not approve of such ungraciousness. But this was not gloating. It was sheer relief. A disbelief that I’d managed two or three miles without finishing up right at the back with limping legs and flagging lungs.
I watched then as a blind man overtook me, looking like he’d done only a few hundred yards. Hot in pursuit – the over-60s, just finding their pace, and getting into a good stride.
I was brought up in Hest Bank and know the area well. But you didn’t need to be a local, or a professor of geography, to grasp that something strange had started to happen. I knew one of the key landmarks was Heysham power station, and we were no longer going towards it. We were heading the opposite way. We were going back!
There was another clue staring us in the face. The wind that had been our cuddly pal was now our mortal enemy. We were battling with a 30 miles an hour monster which blasted our eyeballs with sand, like a million stabbing needles.
For a time, running became pointless. My legs carried on jogging as though mesmerised in remote control, but, all around me, people were walking (alarmingly at the same speed as me). So, I joined them – marching on into the sandstorm like Lawrence of Arabia.
Here, friendships were struck up, stories swapped about whether it was harder or easier than the year before. Maybe it was delirium, but many of us were clearly struck by the sheer beauty of the bay, the godlike power of nature. This is what it meant to feel alive - grateful to be sharing this moment of collective consciousness.
For five months I’d been ITV’s Human Guinea Pig – on a 200-day physical fitness challenge as a 52-year-old TV reporter, based in the Midlands at Central Tonight. Now I could put my training to the test, to see how manly or wimpish I’d become.
As I staggered towards the finish line (or was it the start?) my hips were killing me. But I’d done it, and it wasn’t that bad. I’d found it thrilling, kind of electrifying in its intensity – being out there in a wonderful natural spectacle among super-fit athletes, determined pensioners and have-a-go heroes, doing their bit for CancerCare.
By now, word was getting round about why we’d been turned back. The channel we were due to cross was in full spate - swollen by torrential rain. It was considered too risky to carry on.
It was disappointing, I suppose. But it all added to the drama of the day. We hadn’t done an official half marathon, more like 11 miles. It had effectively become an abandoned race. But I didn’t care. I’d done battle with the elements. And I judged the score to be a draw."
"The real highlight of my week was on Sunday and the Cancer Care Morecambe Cross Bay Challenge Half Marathon. I had to leave home at just after 8 am for the two and half hour drive to Hest Back just north of Morecambe. Here I parked the car and waited with a couple hundred other runners for a fleet of coaches that took us on the three quarters of an hour journey to start of the race at the Lakeland Leisure Park, Flookburgh which is a few miles from Grange over Sands. The race started at about 13:40 we had been held up a while whilst the sand dried, which I found a bit odd as it was pouring with rain. The first part of the route was about half a mile along a tarmac lane through a golf course and then up and over a small bank, which I guess is manmade to act as a windbreak and onto the salt flats here the going was a bit tricky as amongst the grass were channels that needed to be carefully negotiated in order to avoid twisted ankles. I think the measurement of the mile markers was a bit out as I ran the first two miles in 10 minutes (I have never run anywhere near that speed).
After the first couple of miles we were out onto the sand of the bay, the sand although wet was fairly firm to run on. Out in front of me was a long line of runners, the course was marked out with sticks pushed into the sand onto the tops of which were tied brightly coloured pieces of cloth. The course was also well defined as a quad bike led the runners across the bay. People riding tractors or quad bikes marshalled the course and the water stations were on trailers towed by tractors. I got to 5,6 and 7 miles in times faster than I had ever run those sorts of distances, I knew that the mile markers had been placed incorrectly, but I was having a great time.
The views to the mountains of the Lake District behind me, to the hills of Lancashire to my left and over to Morecambe on the other side of the bay were amazing and all around me a vast expanse of sand. The race was really well marshalled the and was monitored by the coast guard and the Queens Guide to Morecambe Bay, the route carefully planned to avoid quicksand. Every runner was issued with a wristband on which their race number was written the wristbands had to be removed by race officials at the end so that all runners were accounted for. All the way I felt really safe and well looked after, I did spend a few minutes however reflecting upon the plight of the 21 Chinese cockle pickers who died on Morecambe in February 2004. Whilst for me this race was an amazing experience and real adventure it is easy to imagine how terrifying it must have been to be out in the dark with the tide coming in.
After passing the 7-mile marker and drinks station the River Kent had to be crossed. It was a few hundred meters wide and at its deepest up to mid thigh high. It was impossible to run across so a steady wade was order of the day. Once crossed the course turned right and headed out towards Morecambe, after about a mile I passes a second 7-mile marker, I have no idea why there were two 7 mile markers on the route but given my time as I got to the second I suspected this one to be in the right place. The course then proceeded to zigzag its way towards the finish, partly I suspect to avoid the dangerous areas and partly to make up the distance. Along the way I chatted to some great people from all over the country, the sense of camaraderie between the runners really added to the occasion.
I felt good throughout the race but never really tried to race it, I was there for the experience and adventure. As the race neared the end we had to run through 200 metres of slippery stick mud to get off the sand and onto the bay side path for the last quarter mile to the finish line. I crossed the line in 2:04:08 the second slowest half marathon I have run. This race however currently however rates as my favourite half marathon. Next year is Cancer Care’s 25th anniversary and they are planning to make the event even bigger and better. If you get the chance give it a go it is really great, and you get a nice t-shirt, goody bag free tea and a bar of Kendal mint cake."
You can read Jogging Jon's blog here
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