Race to the Stones

One of four races in the Threshold Trail Series, the Race to the Stones follows the ancient ridgeway path from Lewknor, at the edge of the Chilterns, to Avebury in Wiltshire, 100 km in distance. What was Forrest thinking? He’d not even run a marathon before this event. But, as any parent will understand, there was little point in trying to dissuade him from his folly. His mind had been set for some while, picking up the ultra-distance running bug during the lockdown of last year. I have to carry some blame. Running together, it’s possible that he got so fed up with hearing about my exploits of thirty-odd years ago that he decided he’d better start writing some stories of his own.

I’ve been so out of touch with the ultra scene that I’ll admit to having no idea just how big it has become in recent years. I’ve been aware of the elite runners smashing records and posting insane times for the Pennine Way and the Coast to Coast, but it hadn’t really registered just how many runners at the grassroots level were completing Ultras. 

When Forrest realised that I’d run the Western States 100 miler in California, all the way back in 1985, he set himself the challenge to one day run the race himself and win his own silver buckle, aiming for a faster time too—there’s nothing quite like a bit of father-son rivalry! The biggest challenge is now simply getting an entry to the race, the number of people putting their names in the hat for the lottery growing every year. The very first step is to get a standard time from an official qualification event, of which this is one.

During lockdown Forrest has been reading avariciously about ultrarunning, studying the science, learning about nutrition, understanding his body. It was so different in my day. If there was any science, I certainly didn’t know about it. I ran my first marathon in a pair of Woolworth plimsolls, my first 100 miler in a pair of Dunlop Green Flash tennis shoes. It’s hard for Forrest to believe that trainers weren’t a thing back then. A multi-billion dollar industry didn’t exist. Nutrition didn’t go much further than Ambrosia Creamed Rice Pudding and Mars Bars.

Various little niggles meant that he hadn’t run as many miles as he would have liked in training, nor had he been able to do the marathon distance run he’d planned for a few weeks before the big day. He reasoned that it was more important to make sure he turned up on the start line well rested and without any issues. He’s far more sensible than I ever was.

This was my first ever experience from the other side of the fence, supporting Forrest in this race. It was hard work! His mum was the driver. I was the navigator, armed with the four OS Landranger maps the race route traversed. My main advice to Forrest was not to start too fast and I knew it wouldn’t be heeded. It just had to be said anyway. When we first saw him, at 18 miles, he knew perfectly well that he was getting sucked into a faster pace than he intended. He was enjoying himself. I knew the feeling. He’d found someone to run with and was enjoying the camaraderie. There was no point in telling him to drop off. 

At the halfway point, over 30 miles in, the wheels had started to come off and I had to remind myself that he’d already run further than he’d ever run before. Forrest didn’t need any such reminding. His whole body was telling him so in the language of fatigue. The race was now a mental battle rather than a physical one. I had very little doubt that he had the resilience required to keep going but he had yet to prove that to himself. He soon did.

Having never before shown a lot of interest in running, it was an incredible and unexpected delight for me to run with Forrest for a few miles in the second half of the race, and be able to remind myself of the joy of these events and why I once loved them so much. They are an incredible celebration of the human spirit. The support on the trail was fabulous. All the runners I saw had smiles on their faces. I got a chance to chat with a few. They all had their own stories, often running to raise money for causes close to home. There is such an incredible buzz.

I knew that he’d experience more pain in the last third of the race than he’d ever have thought possible. That wasn’t wrong. He really had no idea! I’ve told him that it will likely never be as bad as that again. He’ll now train hard enough to make sure of it. It was an immensely proud moment to watch him cross the finishing line. He learned a great deal about himself during this event. And he wants to learn more. It’s most definitely the start of something rather than the finish.

For the record, he completed in 12.13.00, 130th out of 1,285 finishers. Quite a few didn't make it all the way