No regrets

I'm sitting here, on my own sofa on a Sunday morning with a brew that's in a mug, not a polystyrene cup. I'm not shivering in running kit in a primary school/village hall/sports centre in the middle of nowhere, and it's warm and dry in here whereas it's about 10 degrees and pouring with rain outside. God, I am SO happy I'm not running the Doyen of the Downs 30 over the South Downs today.

I started running the Gower marathon yesterday, which runs along the coastal path and back across country to make it a loop. The thought of more coastal path wasn't very alluring after the Pembrokeshire horror, but there was the consolation of cross country which surely ought to be less of a mountainous purgatory. However, with all the rain we've had lately, it was a mudbath. After about 3 miles, we were sliding around and expending more energy trying to stay upright than to make forward progress.

This isn't my version of running. Yes, after several hours, you're building strength and pure mental obstinacy, but you don't get that feeling that I love about running - the impression that the world is turning underneath you as you lope along, this is more like grinding a workhouse mill to turn, inch by inch. I like the pure mechanics of running, the feeling of your legs being able to stretch out in the same motion over and over and over again, and that's why I like the road and the track and the treadmill.

I was hating every single minute of this run, and was feeling significant time pressure too. My lift needed to get down to the South Downs that afternoon which meant I really needed a sub 6 to avoid making them really late. My pace, on the other hand, was suggesting 6 hours was unlikely and I was already the last runner by a long way. I was shocked by the pace set - noone was walking the hills and everyone was running at a very decent clip. By the checkpoint, it didn't take much suggestion that I'd get timed out to chuck it in.

So this isn't a list of excuses. I felt awful about chucking something in for no real reason, I wasn't tired or particularly injured (my feet are in a bad way but they have been for weeks) and I was, and still am, afraid that I'll lose a lot of people's respect. However, I've finally accepted that I Don't Like Trail. The views, the solitude and the peace are fantastic, but it's not for me. I'm sticking to road now, and maybe I'll even try a track marathon some time.

The self-reproach was pretty bad yesterday, but now I don't have any regrets. Of 37 marathons and ultras this year, I've had 3 DNFs: Kent 50 (ITB issues), Pembrokeshire day 3 (mild hypothermia and general knackeredness) and Gower (CBAs), but I've also run 34 marathons in 9 months, will have increased my 2008 mileage by 50% to 2,400 miles and was very proud to have organised an almost seamless team at the 192 mile, non stop, 26 hour Round Norfolk Relay that came in within 5 minutes of predicted time. No self pity allowed!