Running 40 Miles In A Training Run For The First Time Ever
I got the train to Whittlesford Parkway as planned and ran back following the London 2 Cambridge route backwards. The first 20km was easy. I followed a route up past Elmdon and Langley. I stopped off for a J20 and a Mars Bar at a pub in the village and jogged on.
It was from there shit went wrong.
I got stranded inside a field 2 miles down the road and my battery on my phone was closing in on zero. I started panicing, running in circles and slapping myself on the head screaming “FARM CUNTS!”. All exits were sealed off with barbed wire fencing and I had to give up on my plan of following the route all the way to London.
I hate feeling helpless as it reminds me of being young and weak and it makes me react in violent ways. I punched a tree and called it’s mother a cunt. I was screaming at the top of my lungs in a field full of bluebells and animals were scattering all across the place. I kinda felt bad as foxes, squirrels and rabbits were all trying to have a nice relaxing Sunday before work on Monday and here I was bellowing like a hate preacher.
Since I was relying on my phone to navigate the trails and with it now being out of commission I had to rely on the compass on my GPS watch.
If you look closely at the map below for that part of my run you can see me circling madly in that field. If you picture me slapping my forehead repeatedly and shouting CUNTS! then you are almost fucking there with me.
I decided to run south on B-roads and down country lanes from then onwards. I made it to Great Hormead 4 miles down the road and tried calling in at a country pub for lunch but the door seemed to be locked and I heard an angry woman growling inside. I walked for a little bit in search of at least a place to buy some soft drinks but nothing exists in those villages.
I was becoming ever more thirsty and desperate and soon regretted not bringing any water with me.
I turned my Garmin off and walked to Little Hormead and by now I was feeling hopeless. I’d only ran 30km and I was already giving up. I’d proven myself to be weak once again.
If I’d been close to a railway station I’d have taken the first train back to London. Instead I jogged on with the goal of making it to somewhere where civilisation existed.
I made it to Braughing having ran a marathon on one 250ml bottle of orange juice. I was that thirsty that I could have drank diet Vimto out of a dead nun’s cunt and felt no shame. I found a pub, asked if I could pay by credit card, found out there was a £10 minimum transaction and promptly ordered 5 pints of Coke and 3 packets of Kettle Chips.
I stayed there for half an hour before heading South through the villages of Puckeridge and Standon. From there I ran across a bridalpath and found a country lane which I followed all the way to Much Hadham. It was starting to get dark and the bad memories from my first 100k came flooding back. I wanted to get to Bishops Stortford to catch the train back to Tottenham Hale but had no idea where it was in relation to Much Hadham.
I didn’t even know what a Much Hadham fucking was.
I wanted to stop off at a pub in the village for dinner but instead had to make do with 2 cans of Rockstar Juiced from Londis which I drank right outside the shop like a true tramp.
With 20 minutes to sunset I set off as fast I could towards Bishops Stortford. I turned on my headlamp and it was there I’d realised I’d passed 40 miles in a single day’s running. I was euphoric and started waving at all of the cars passing by.
I made it on time for my train back to Tottenham and everything turned out great in the end. Next time I do this I will not be following a route. I will be studying a map of the East Herts area more closely so that I know the distance between each place. I will be sticking to bridalpaths, B-roads and country lanes and I will use it as an excuse to explore the countryside.
Who’s to say I can’t run 50 miles next time?
I also ran 100 miles in one week for the first time ever. None of this would have been possible with booze in my life.