AdministratorFebruary 4, 2019 at 8:58 pm
Arc of Attrition 2019
I should start by saying that I had no intentions of going back to Cornwall to do this race…..
I said when I started running ultras that there were too many beautiful races out there to go back and do them more than once. I ran it in 2017, I finished, I came 3rd lady, I had a great run, I really enjoyed it and I got a gold buckle, there was really no reason to go back, there was no unfinished business there. Then in 2018 I watched the race unfold on the tracker, relentlessly and, yes jealously dot watching – I wanted to be there. So, when the entries opened I sat and watched the places disappearing and I couldn’t resist – I wanted to go back.
The training for this one went really well up until the beginning of December, I was gradually ramping up the mileage and the hillage and I felt like I was in a good place, then came the round of winter lurgeys, a fairly minor snot fest for the first one that while still allowing me to tick of miles they weren’t particularly quality miles, and they were pretty flat miles. Then came lurgey number 2 that cost a couple of high mileage weeks and saw me getting a bit stressy about what sort of shape my legs were going to be in on the endless rollercoaster of hills on the Cornish Coast Path. On the run in to the event I was feeling fairly pessimistic about my chances of making the finish in a better time than last time, and my pre-race prediction was I’d be very lucky to get round in under 32 hours and wouldn’t be in loud hailing distance of another podium finish, seeing the quality of the field in the week before the event I summised I’d be lucky to get in the top 10 ladies.
The weather forecasts as we got closer to the event went from the sublime to the frankly ridiculous with some sites predicting calm and cold and others wintry blasts of freezing hail and snow and high winds. I packed for all eventualities and we were lucky enough to travel early the day before the event and arrive in Porthtowan where we were staying not too long after the snow started and before the A30 became a wintry carpark for the night. It seemed many of us were lucky to make the start line, never mind the finish.
I got a good sleep and left Ian to go get his run done and Molly to get a little extra sleep (my amazing family and fabulous support crew) while I went and registered, which was super organised and quick and I got a warm welcome back off Jane and Fergie 2 of the race directors.
I went back and rounded up the support crew and they dropped me back at registration for the race briefing and to get the bus to the start. If anyone was in any doubt of the serious nature of this event that was soon dispelled with the dire warnings of hypotheria, cliffs, mine shafts and getting cut off by high tides. I was wearing pretty much all of my mandatory kit already and was glad I’d given the crew so many extra layer options, it was cold and there was a strong icy wind, but at least there was little lying snow and there was no sign of any rain or snow.
I had a brief chat with the crew and a hug at the start and then it was pretty much time for the off – I’d be seeing them again briefly at The Lizard at around 10 miles in. I remembered the first section being quite congested last time as there are some gates and stiles that cause big bottlenecks and the first 6 miles are pretty much just single file narrow paths so there isn’t a lot of opportunity for passing so you’re pretty much in a long line. I hadn’t really thought about it much until after the start but I was probably a little further down that line than I really wanted to be, but I went with the flow and didn’t stress on it too much – it was early days and would probably work in my favour in the later stages. What I had forgotten from last time was how everything that grows in Cornwall is prickly, the vegetation is all considerably less friendly than the people. That first few miles is a mud fest and it’s packed with steep slippery climbs and after grabbing a handful of vegetation to stabilise a big muddy step up and getting a palm full of spines I quickly learned to keep my hands to myself again.
The waterproof jacket came off pretty quickly as the efforts on the hills got the body temperature up pretty efficiently. I finally reached The Lizard and the waiting Ian and Molly about 20 minutes or so slower than last time, and got an “at last – where have you been? We were getting worried about you” – as support goes possibly not quite what I was expecting, but they had a valid point 😊 I didn’t hang about, it was too early for me to need anything so I cracked on – I’d be seeing them again at the Hotel at Mullion Cove in another 6 or 7 miles.
The section from The Lizard to Mullion Cove was one of my least favourite sections of the course last time, while not flat the hills are gradual and the terrain just generally boggy and draining, and my opinion of this section wasn’t changed this time, adding in a Baltic headwind did it no favours. It’s not unenjoyable just more of a slog than it looks like it should be. I was glad to finally hit the steep descent into and out of Mullion cove where Ian and Molly were waiting at the hotel. I reloaded my pockets with sandwiches and swapped out my drinks bottle reassuring them that I was feeling good and in a happy place. They were on form this time and I got a big cheer and lots of encouragement. I got my waterproof back on as I was feeling the chill in the wind before heading onto the final miles before the first Checkpoint at 25ish miles in Porthleven. These were an uneventful few miles and I swapped places with a few runners and made reasonable steady progress all the way to the checkpoint, which had moved since last time. It used to be in a pub on the sea front – which was where I was met by Ian and molly since they hadn’t been able to get parked at the checkpoint. I’d just about made it to there without having to dig out my head torch. I got another bottle swap and more sandwiches and continued to be met by the “Arc Angel” (as the event marshals are affectionately known) and I got efficiently shepherded into CP one, where I literally just made use of the loo and got cracking again.
My checkpoint strategy for this event was to have a 4 minute rule – no sitting down and no doing anything that really couldn’t be more efficiently done than when I was on the move. I think I pretty much managed to stick to that strategy all the way.
After Porthleven I kept a close eye on the navigation I was pretty much on my own here and this was where I got lost on the approach to Praa Sands last time – surprisingly this time apart from one missed turn that I had to back track to get back on course, it all seemed fairly straight forward and I was moving well, on the approach to Praa Sands you can see the distant lights of Penzance and it’s true that they never actually seem to get any closer. I touched base with the crew again at Peranuthnoe, still feeling good and while the weather was cold I was fairly comfortable and I kept using the spare socks I had in my jacket pocket as mittons. I kept telling myself I’d dig my gloves out of my pack next time I stopped, but the sock-mitts were really nice and cosy so I didn’t bother. I got more sarnies and a few more cereal bars and moved on again – next stop Penzance.
Just after Perranuthnoe I missed a turning inland and ended up on the beach, I knew that I shouldn’t have been on this beach but it’s the same one I ended up on last time and knew that 400 yards of rock hopping would be followed by a sandy beach and a set of steps back up into Marazion – it’s etched into my head from last time as the tide was considerably higher then and it scared me half to death. This time the tide was a long way out, and I couldn’t face back tracking to where I thought I’d gone wrong. I was followed across the beach by a few other headlights and while I was trying to decide whether or not to take a path that headed inland but back in the direction I’d come from I was joined by another lady who agreed carrying on made more sense than going back. It was good to get off the rocks onto the sand and even better to find the flight of steps up into Marazion. I knew it was plain easy sailing along the cycle track into Penzance from there and so it was. I arrived in Penzance around 45 minutes down on schedule from last time though.
It was good to see Ian here, and to still feel in pretty good shape, I’d need to be – in my mind Penzance is where the race really begins, while there are a few hard sections up to there – the really gnarly stuff starts after leaving the civilisation of Mousehole harbour and for sure after Lamorna Cove, which was my next meeting with the crew. And I grabbed extra torch batteries for the next stage and yet more sarnies and cereal bars. I was surprised how much I was eating, but I was just hungry all the time – I put it down to the cold and just kept steadily munching my way through the food – I had a couple of double espresso gels for the night section and they really do seem to switch the lights back on in your brain when you’re getting mentally tired. Physically I felt like I was still trucking along nicely.
After leaving Lamorna Cove the weather decided to start to throw a bit more of a spanner in the works and we had a bit of a bouncing hail storm. I just pulled up my hood and pushed on but I seemed to suddenly be catching lots of people from there, I got a little confused by coming up the steps into the Minack theatre, in my head I remembered this being just after Lands End, and I took a bit of a detour round the carpark there. From then on the wind started to just get relentlessly strong and the windchill became biting. I could feel my top lip swelling up as it felt like a lump of ice. I just kept pushing on knowing that Lands End wasn’t that far and I planned to change my socks there. I had some company on the run into Lands end a lovely chap called Martin – though conversation was tricky as the wind was deafening.
It was lovely to finally roll into Lands End and the Angels gave us a lovely warm welcome, they must have been frozen standing out in the cold to direct us into the checkpoint yet they were unwaveringly cheerful. Ian and Molly followed me into the checkpoint with socks and lots more encouragement – the trackers had been seemingly quite tricky to follow for a while so they couldn’t really tell me how I was doing – but my expectations were low, so to be told they thought I was doing quite well in the standings and working my way up the field nicely really perked me up. They couldn’t help but point out that my frozen top lip was doing a good impression of a trout pout though 😊 I felt a little guilty at the pile of mud I left on the floor after changing my socks – but it couldn’t be helped and it was bliss to get the wet mud encrusted socks off and get some fresh ones on. Once again I didn’t linger and I knew the next leg was the make or break section of the course being the most technically challenging. The next meet with the crew was to be at the lighthouse at Pendeen Watch.
I left Lands End and actually found the route back onto the coast path quite easily (I got lost there last time) but the good progress was short lived as I came to a section that looked wrong on the watch and I dithered a bit over whether to take a higher or lower path and got caught by another chap, then as we were discussing which was the right path a few more came along – we were turning into quite a group. In the end I just went with my gut instinct and took the lower path which it soon became apparent was the correct choice. The next couple of miles were the only real section of the run where I was with many people we were a small group and every so often a would grind to a halt to discuss some aspect of disagreement over which path we should be on – while it’s reassuring to have company I’m not really a fan of navigation by committee so we soon ended up going our separate ways just before Cape Cornwall – that was pretty much the last other runners I saw between there and St Ives. There are quite a lot of high cliff sections in that leg where the path seems ridiculously close to the edge and if you peered over you could see the waves crashing onto the rocks, much as the relentless headwind was grinding me down I remember being very grateful it wasn’t blowing the other way as that cliff edge seemed perilously close at times.
Just before I got to Pendeen watch the heavens opened again and hailstones the size of frozen peas were bouncing down – I think I may have been a little sweary at the point and had a mini outburst of shouting at the weather (nutter alert), it seemed to work as it didn’t last too long, but the after effects were not fun – I was soaked – that wind was still blowing and those frozen pea sized chunks of ice were like ball-bearings to try and run on.
I got to Pendeen watch and was incredibly happy to see Ian and Molly – but bless them they looked exhausted and frozen (that may be a serious case of the pot calling the kettle black – but I felt so sorry for poor Molly who looked like the Michelin man in all her layers). I knew from there it was probably only half an hour or so more darkness to go, though realistically, still around 4 hours to get to St Ives even though it’s only around 15 miles – Pendeen to St Ives is the hardest and most remote section of the course and it’s headland after relentless headland of ascent and descent through bogs, over boulders and the path is more of a narrow boggy trod than a path, it’s hard going in decent weather but bent double into a headwind it was slow going at best.
The weather decided once again to conspire against us and the two to 3 hours after Pendeen watch were pretty grim going (Ian said grim was the understatement of the century for the weather we got in those hours, but it did make me do a sideways on crabwalk at one point to try and stop the hailstones hitting my front – even through my layers it just felt like how I imagine shot blasting would feel). Daylight arrived and I could see patches of bright sunlight out over the sea – yet still I was being relentlessly battered by intermittent rain and hail. I sang to myself – some of it may even have been out loud just to keep myself upbeat. I was still feeling pretty physically good despite everything, I had one low mental point when I crossed a little bridge that I was sure was at Zennor and I had that pin pointed as more or less mid-way between Pendeen and St Ives (my dad had met me on a bridge at Zenor last time I did it) – then about half a mile further on I came across a finger post that said Zenor 2 miles – still in front of me. To say I was a bit disappointed was a proper understatement. Once I finally actually did get past Zenor the skies started to clear a little and with the wind still being so strong it didn’t take me long to dry out and I was back in good spirits and properly enjoying things again. I could see the sand that signified the other side of the bay St Ives is in and I knew that I was getting close to St Ives.
The finger post that says St Ives is only a mile away is in my opinion very optimistic (either that or I was properly crawling by then) it certainly seems longer than that. There are some frustrating sections of ‘helpful’ stepping stones through the bogs on the last section into St Ives, which really was tricky to negotiate with the wind conspiring to push you off them at every step – I’m fairly sure if anyone had seen me trying to balance along there they would have thought I looked like a drunk.
Finally St Ives came and Ian and Molly were waiting in a car park at the edge of town (they couldn’t get anywhere near the checkpoint with the car) so they scooped up the bag of stuff I wanted (I wanted my lovely cushioned road shoes for the last section – which while it has some testing bits still to come in it I knew I would be moving slow enough for road shoes to be fine) and followed me to the check point – which was well sign posted and we were passed from Angel to Angel on the way into the checkpoint with a warm greeting from Fergie who looked at his watch and said I was possibly still making gold buckle progress – I knew I was nearly an hour down on the time I hit St Ives last time so I wasn’t optimistic, but I was beginning to gather that the dropout rate had been high and I was doing well to still be making good progress and not feeling too bad in the grand scheme of things.
Ian wasn’t sure at St Ives if I was 2nd, 3rd, 4th or 5th lady so I got the shoes changed in the checkpoint entrance and headed out in double quick time forgetting to pick up my sarnies. I think Molly chased after me with the sarnies but the route out of St Ives is a complicated one and she never caught me (and damn those road shoes felt good 😊) – I would never have found the way without my Arc Angel to guide me.
The path round to Hayle is pretty much flat and I felt like I really should be running but my battered legs really didn’t want to cooperate much any more so I made a bargain with them that if they would run 80 steps I could walk 30 and by that method I got myself to Hayle in pretty good order. I hated that section last time, this time it seemed to have lots of cheerful people encouraging you as you passed and every other car that went past seemed to be a support crew of someone as they waved or bibbed and every so often you would pass a car parked up and they would get out and clap and ask if you were ok or if you needed anything, it really gave my morale a lift every time it happened. There was a roving medical crew in Hale that came and checked on me and seemed vaguely surprised to find me still so cheerful, but I knew I was on the home stretch. I had opportunity to regret forgetting the sarnies as I had to eat sweets and cereal bars instead and they started to make me feel a bit sick so I held off eating any more until I saw Ian and Molly again at the carpark on the way out of Hayle. They had been shopping at some point as I had munched through my sarnies at an alarming rate and they had somehow found ham sarnies with just butter on them – I can’t thank them enough for that – plain ham sarnies and the odd packet of crisps works as perfect run fuel for me.
After Hayle came the section known as ‘the dunes of doom’ and this time the name seemed pretty apt – there are lots more markers to guide you through the dunes than there used to be, but the wind and the sand were a bad combination and it felt like the sand got everywhere, but I still felt that while I was moving slower than I felt I should be I was going well.
After the Dunes of doom comes Godrevy and another meet with the crew, it was nice to be moving a little faster again and to be seeing them a little more often – and once again the seals just past here were one of the highlights of my race – they were playing in the surf and it was hard to carry on without stopping to watch them.
The section after Godrevy however nearly called a late and premature end to my race, I still felt in a good place there and Ian waved me off and I never really thought to ask where I would see him again – the weekend before the race my dad had popped round to show Ian all the best places to get to for crewing and I’d heard him say that there are lots of free little car-parks and pull-in’s to see me on the way to Portreath so I half expected him to pop up along there even though it wasn’t on the list of places he would be. The temperature dropped quite quickly after Godrevy and the wind got even more vicious and it was getting really hard making progress into it. Each and every gust seemed to cut right through you and grind you to a halt, and I started to get properly cold. The top of my water bottle started to get ice crystals in it and I had to stop drinking as every time I did I felt like it just made me colder. I was shivering badly and I was just jogging along muttering to myself ‘you’re not cold, you’re not cold’ and I kept thinking every car park would have Ian and Molly in it, but each one was empty. I knew if they weren’t in Portreath then I was in trouble, I had another top in my bag and my thicker waterproof gloves but the thought of taking layers off to get another one on was just too much to bear.
I have never been so relieved to see the car as when I rounded the corner into Portreath – I think had it not been there I genuinely might have got into the medical car before the last headlands, I was just so cold. I got my down jacket and another waterproof jacket on over all my other layers and stuffed a fresh bottle into the pocket to keep it warm and got going again. I was a little shouty at that meeting and I did feel bad afterwards as there were no firm plans for the crew to see me between Godrevy and Portreath, and it wasn’t their fault I was moving too slow to keep warm. But I can honestly say I have never been as cold as I was at that point and I’m seriously glad I didn’t have to make the call about whether or not it was safe for me to carry on.
The last couple of headlands to where the old finish was in Porthtowan are the sting in the tail of the arc. There are 3 steep descents to sea level and then back up to cliff tops and your legs are beyond the point at which that feels like a good idea. As I dropped down into Porthtowan I looked at my watch and saw that I had been on my feet for 30 hours and 15 minutes – so even had the finish not been moved I would have missed my gold buckle, for some strange reason that actually makes me feel better.
The climb up to the new finish in the Eco Park is just a work of pure evil from Mud crew – it’s a narrow gorse lined path that ramps up and is muddy and slippery and has you practically crawling in places – I counted steps and refused to look upwards and the feeling of joy when my head torch shone on clear space in front of me instead of mud was indescribable. After that it was a small matter of trotting across a field and into the finish to get my finish hug off Jane and my buckle (silver this time – but hey who wants two the same anyway?? 😊) and to be finally reunited with the crew for more than a few minutes at a time.
On the whole I loved most of this years Arc and it fully lived up to the memories – the last 10 miles were incredibly tough, and the weather was a huge factor in this years event – but in some ways battling the elements makes the successful finish that bit more satisfying.
So to the results – which were all a bit confusing to look at in event by all accounts as the trackers from the outside watching on seemed to be a bit intermittent and disjointed. I was third lady home, 25th over all and one of only 67 finishers out of 153 starters, so once again the stats are intimidating. I’m actually on balance pretty happy with how it went – the conditions were undoubtedly tougher than the last time I did it and I don’t think I could have done much differently on the day to improve the outcome.
Obviously I couldn’t wrap this up without thanking the support crew because genuinely without them in absolutely all honestly I couldn’t do what I do so I do thank them from the bottom of my heart they truly are amazing xx
MemberFebruary 4, 2019 at 8:59 pm
2 years ago I was sat at home dot watching. When your sat at home dot watching you dont get a feel for the event. You know its 100 miles, you know its tough, you know its hilly, but you dont feel it. We have crewed each others events often, but on this one, at times, I’d of preferred the ignorance is bliss of dot watching at home.
At the race briefing your left in no doubt about the dangers of this run. Mine shafts, spikey metal posts, high tides, falling of cliffs and if having ultra blindness was mentioned then I’m pleased i missed that bit. I come away from that briefing extremely pleased i wasn’t running the event. It would be way out of my league.
But, I do know someone who is mentally strong enough, hugely determined and daft enough to do it, you.
From a crewing point of view it all went brilliantly, pre planned places to stop all worked out very well. We were in for the long haul on this one though. I have the attitude on the crewing that you are there for the runner, so my job is to get to meeting place 1 and wait, and wait. Unfortunately for us you dont give much value for money at checkpoints, we wait for hours on end and just about get a quick hello out of you then i go to the next meeting point and wait for hours again and this time I’m lucky as you say hello and swap drink bottles. Thats pretty much how it goes for us out there when sharons running.
The worse bit for me, and again its where ignorance is bliss as if sitting at home i wouldnt know about this, but the weather was brutal out there, it was chewing people up. We may be parked in an extremely remote car park at 2 am, pitch black, blowing a gale, freezing waiting for you. Is this headtorch you, no, this one, no. Gotta be this one, yes. Quick hello and then the tough bit, watching you disappear into the blackness, knowing full well that you are watching your wife, loved one heading of into brutal conditions, right next to a cliff. You really have to disengage the brain here and just dont think about it.
I was at least happy that i know you can handle anything, but all it takes is one slip.
Anyway, we get through the night just to be met with daylight but even more brutal conditions, but least its daylight.
Then we watch the suffering, i can see your hurting but again, your so strong and i know you’ll get through it.
Getting to the end now, we wait at the finish and only see a head torch till your literally steps away and then its a huge sigh of relief.
Followed by huge huge amounts of proudness that my wife has not only conquered this race the two times she entered it, came 3rd both times but has come through the most brutal event she has ever done. Super proud doesnt even get near to it.
To do what you did was truly amazing.
Then the next morning we go to the presentation and 1, its great seeing everyone again and 2, seeing you on the podium, mixing it up with the elites, super proud once again.
Huge congrats and love mrs s xx.
Ps, least you get your moneys worth out of me at checkpoints.
MemberFebruary 5, 2019 at 9:39 am
hi sharon , just read your war and piece write up, utterly speechless and totally in awe.
i congratulate you and your team on your 2nd conquering of this very tough 100 miler, well
done to you, and also from your lovely team. A rock solid support from your family.
MemberFebruary 5, 2019 at 7:19 pm
Usually these sort of write-ups don’t necessarily convey the suffering, but in this case my legs are aching after just reading the reports (Both Sharon and Ian’s write-ups). Excellent write ups and excellent performance!
MemberFebruary 5, 2019 at 7:51 pm
It is… it is… beyond words… and so hard to grasp what you have done out there. Even after reading -again- there are so many parts of the narrative where I don’t know if I want to know more or whether I’d opt for being left in awe and ignorance! Amazing really… Enormous respect and a truly inspirational race and write up. Huge congrats -and well done to the support team: Ian and Molly.
MemberFebruary 5, 2019 at 9:43 pm
Great write up Sharon of an epic adventure. Fantasic determination and resilience in the face of severely unpleasant weather and extreme running conditions. Your narrative really puts vivid colour into the picture about the physical and mental exhaustion you have to battle. I did a lot of dot watching and in second half it was easy to see which of the various participants were getting into trouble as they got slower and slower, lagging further and further behind those they had been with, eventually and inevitably ending in retirement or getting timed out. You did fantastically well to battle through the extremes of hail, icy winds and what sounds like perilously close to hypothermia.
Interesting that the somewhat sedate start was not entirely intentional but it was very striking that after a few miles beyond Penzance and then on into the night you were really moving up through the field. Pyschologically I imagine that’s a whole stack better than being a front runner and get caught progressively by much of the field. Good to hear that sock mitts performed well!
Anyway, very well done indeed and great work too by the support crew.
MemberFebruary 6, 2019 at 9:09 am
Don’t know where to start! but omg Sharnie, what a write up, what a race! having said in my injury post, “if I can run 100 miles in 4 years….” there’s no way I could. It takes a special kind of person with determination, endurance and pure hard graft to achieve that.
Can’t believe how much you ate, the terrain, distance and weather must make you starving, and also confused at times? Mind wise??? The trout pout was funny, a good natural alternative to all those celebs out there, And the counting of steps. I did that in Cornwall, in my tiddly 32 miler, walked uphill 20 steps and had a sweet, I honestly don’t know how you do it.
Congrats on another mind-blowing achievement. Well done on being 3rd lady, and who wants two gold buckles? Perhaps you should return next year, to complete the set and aim for a bronze? 😉
Well done Sharnie, inspiring to say the very least xx
MemberFebruary 6, 2019 at 12:31 pm
Well done Sharon, superb effort
MemberFebruary 6, 2019 at 6:32 pm
Mind blown!!! I just wouldn’t know where to start with tackling an event like that. (And my sense of direction I’d probably end up in Wales!) You really are a strong inspirational lady. Huge congratulations lovely xx
MemberFebruary 6, 2019 at 6:43 pm
Just amazing Sharon. Huge congratulations.
MemberFebruary 6, 2019 at 9:00 pm
This is an incredible write up and run Sharnie, felt I was on the journey with you but in your backpack 😲 bouncing around thinking how crazy you are 😁
To complete a race like this takes some guts, determination, physical and mental strength and a certain type of spirited person. Those conditions you were put through would test anyone, can see why so many did not finish. The race is hard and tough enough without almost suffering from hypothermia and the chance of getting blown of a cliff 😨🤤😰
Love the singing, shouting at the elements and self talking too, just glad no hallucinations happened.
To get 3rd lady is just brilliant,for most of us we can never totally understand what you all went through but can have total respect for what you did go through. CONGRATULATION SHARNIE, and to Molly and Ian for their huge contributions on the weekend, great photos and prizes, 😁
MemberFebruary 6, 2019 at 10:33 pm
Read this again don’t think I’ll ever get bored with reading it, such an insight and Ian’s response still makes me feel quite teary, you really are a great team x
AdministratorFebruary 7, 2019 at 10:24 am
Finally iv been able to read it.. iv been itching to sit down with a cuppa and read it!
You really are a huge inspiration, if i had to sum you up in one word after reading this i would fail – although bonkers does come to mind 🙂 because all the epic’s , amazing’s, crazy’s stonking’s, solid’d, determine’s wouldn’t be enough!!
I think it’s incredible what we can get our bodies to when were stubborn and cray enough.
And your body went through hell in some parts of this, did Ian take a photo of your trout mouth by any chance?? hehe!! It sounds so so tough but you pushed on to the bitter end and bagged 3rd lady.. WOOhhooooooo…. I knew you picking them off at home..i was glued to the dots and even took my phone to loo when i had to pee at 3am lol!! Sad I know 😛
HUGE well done and HUGE hug… must have a rollercoaster of emotions going on while you were out there, i mean i have cried during a marathon!! so can’t even begin to imagine what goes in the brain when your out there doing what you were doing and being so incredibly cold, think I would of curled up into a ball and rocked myself to sleep in the prickles 😳
Loved reading this, thank you for sharing it with us, really does make me not want to it lol, you crazy but awesome lady xx
Oh and i hope your recovering well and the body is still friends with you 🙂
Log in to reply.