Spires and Steeples Challenge (or Lincoln to Sleaford Marathon)

Another weekend and another marathon completed.  This time it was the Spires and Steeples Heritage Trail Challenge. This was another low key event that was also advertised as a long distance walk as well as a running event.  The organisers were very keen to point out that it wasn’t a race, and there was no timing involved and no published results.

A cold autumnal morning outside Lincoln Castle

The marathon started from inside Lincoln Castle, just outside the very impressive law courts, and finished outside The Hub in Sleaford, which is the National Centre for Craft and Design.  The race (sorry, challenge) started at 9.30am for runners and 8.30am for walkers.  We runners got ourselves ready, stripping off outer warm layers and pinning numbers to vests on what was a cold, autumnal morning, with clear blue skies and a very low sun in the sky.  Everyone seemed to be in good spirits, and there was a lot of chit chat amongst complete strangers.  I talked to several runners, but only found one person who had done the event before.  Some people were concerned as to how clearly marked the trail would be.  The race instructions said the trail would be marked, but recommended that we also carried the two page description of the route, just in case we got lost.  It turned out that this was unnecessary.

Runners getting ready in front of the law courts in the grounds of the Castle

Probably the hardest part of the run was the very start.  We all set off from inside the castle.  Once through the gate the course made a right turn to run down a steep cobbled street towards the river.  This was one descent where I didn’t feel that it would be sensible to let gravity do its work.  The cobbles felt quite slippery underfoot, and were also really uncomfortable to land on at full pelt, even with almost new running shoes.  At the very bottom of the hill we had to cross a river bridge and then a pedestrian bridge over a dual carriageway.  After this the route of the challenge was mostly along footpaths and bridleways through Fen like countryside and passing through several nice villages.

There were probably only about 100 runners attempting the full marathon distance.  After a mile the line of runners had already become quite dispersed.  I found myself running alongside a young male runner who looked like a novice.  I tried to strike up a conversation only to discover he was French.  Now, I’m almost ashamed to admit this, but my immediate reaction was a desire to trip him up, due to France’s win over both England and Wales in the rugby world cup.  I have to admit that England deserved to lose to France, but I’m sure that almost every rugby fan in Britain felt that Wales should have come away with the victory over France and that if it wasn’t for a poor referee decision they would have won.  Of course, moments later I realised that the young French runner alongside me could not be blamed for the outcome of a rugby match.  I kept pace with him for a short while and I wished him luck as I sped up, leaving him to eat the dust kicked up by my shoes.

After about five miles I could only see about four runners ahead of me.  They didn’t seem that far off, and we all seemed to be running at about the same pace.  At one point I looked over my shoulder and I couldn’t see any other runners behind me.  It seemed that we were leaving the rest of the field a long way behind.  Just before reaching the first checkpoint we started over taking a steady stream of walkers, who were all very obliging by stepping to one side to allow the runners to pass.  I continued to overtake a steady stream of walkers all the way to about the third checkpoint.  Walkers also had the option of only doing half the course and starting a little later in the day from the third control.  This also meant that we runners had even more walkers to pass on the second half of our run.

There were five checkpoints on the course, and at each one we had to hand in a wristband with our competitor number.  This was so the organisers could keep track of everyone and make sure no one was lost.  Bottles of water were also available at all five checkpoints, and chocolate bars were also being handed out at the third.  It almost seemed that each village was asked to round up volunteers to man each of the checkpoints.  Some just had a few adults, whilst one in particular seemed to have a whole infant school of children handing out water bottles and doing a very good job of cheering each runner on as they came in to view.

As I approached each of the checkpoints I seemed to almost catch two of the runners ahead of me, but I seemed to take longer than them over stopping for a drink and chewing doing an energy gel, so they managed to put some space between me and them again.  I was caught by another runner as I was finishing off my drink at the third control and the two of us then ran together, chatting all the way to the next feed station.  I stopped to take on some water, whilst the other runner didn’t even reach for a bottle.  The truth is that I also felt that his pace was a little too fast for me and I was happy for him to carry on without me.

Just before the final checkpoint I finally caught up with the two runners who had been just ahead of me the whole way.  I was starting to feel in a lot of pain by this stage, but the two of them seemed to be fairing a lot worse.  We ran as a group of three very briefly, but I was eager to get the last few miles over and done with and was clearly able to maintain a faster pace than the other two.  So I turned my back on them and ran on alone, even though I was very aware that I was only slowly edging away from them.  The last few miles were horrible.  The ground was flat, and mostly on a flood bank alongside a river, very much like running alongside the River Cam to Ely, but the surface was as rutted as anything and baked hard.  If you can imagine what mud would be like after horses had walked through it and then baked by the sun you’ll have a good idea of the ground conditions.  My legs seemed to almost buckle with every stride.  I overtook one final runner at this stage, who had been in sight for a while.  I didn’t think I was going to catch him, and certainly hadn’t made it an aim, but he was doing a mixture of jogging, hobbling and walking, and going through that cycle every 20 to 30 seconds.  As I passed him I asked if he was ok.  He grunted some response, which I didn’t make out.  I then just responded by saying the last few miles were horrible, to which he agreed.  I then left him behind to hobble towards the finish.

With about half a mile to go I spotted Ruth waving at me.  I was actually surprised to see her, as she has only seen me run in three marathons so far this year.  I was glad to hear her confirm that I didn’t have far to go.  Sure enough, soon after passing Ruth I reached the edge of Sleaford and was running on smooth tarmac once more, which instantly made my legs feel better.   The finish was as low key as the event itself.  We turned to run over a bridge, and then made one other turn to suddenly find that we were in a finishing funnel edged with plastic tape and directed towards a table with three event organisers.  One took our final wrist band, one handed out a medal and the other gave all the finishers a certificate.  We were then told to help ourselves to a bottle of sports drink.  And with that another marathon was completed.

Final river crossing

As I waited for Ruth to make her way to the finish, I congratulated a few other runners and waited for the three guys I’d overtaken in the last few miles to finish.  Once Ruth got to the finish line it was time to take a few photos, including a staged photo of me running across the last bridge to send to my charity.  Apparently I’m going to be the cover star in their next biannual publication. 



12 marathons completed and original target achieved, but I still aim to do 4 more

Ruth and I then had a quick meal in a greasy spoon café before the drive back to Cambridge.  I wasn’t sure if I could face a full meal, but once I had a plate of pasty, chips and peas in front of me I seemed to have no trouble polishing it off.  I now have two weekends off before my next marathon on November 6^th.  Ruth and I will be having a short walking holiday in the interim.