Belfast 24 Hour
“The man who loves walking will walk further than the man who loves the destination.”
I can’t remember when I first stumbled across this quote. To be honest, I’m not even sure who to credit with its origin; but it’s an idea that has lived in my mind for quite some time and has seen me through more than a couple of difficult races.
The idea is simple and, like all simple ideas, incredibly impacting. If you can find joy in the journey of development in your chosen sport or career or any other worthy use of your time, you’ll go a lot further than if you focus on a specific milestone. This notion completely changed how I viewed running, my favourite pastime and means of travel. There’s certainly a sense of achievement to be had in setting your sights on a specific distance, be it a a 5K or a marathon, but what if there wasn’t a set distance and the finish line was a distance you decided for yourself.
How far could you go?
What quantity of distance would define personal success?
My answer to this question would begin with registration to the Belfast 24 Hour hosted by Atlas Running. A challenge where entrants have 24 hours to do as many 1 mile loops as they can… Running for 24 hours wasn’t part of the plan for this year, until it was. I suppose the inclination first began in the aftermath of my first 100k last September. Despite only taking roughly 17 hours and 30 minutes, I’d end up being awake for 24 hours between leaving the hotel room, finishing the race and returning.
If you could stay awake for 24 hours and run for almost 18 of them, running for all 24 seems reasonably achievable, right?… right?
Saturday 17th June; 9am
We arrived in Belfast’s Victoria park just in time to see the park runners wage their weekly war on their 5K personal bests. In truth I’d been half tempted to take part before setting up camp but common sense prevailed. Our day of running was scheduled to begin at Noon, with entrants then running around the clock until noon the following day. I picked up my race number and headed for the area allocated for participants to set up their respective race camps, a 300m stretch preceding the start of each new lap, which we'll henceforth refer to as 'The Pit Lane.' Every shape and style of tent imaginable was on display, from individual runners with one-man sleeping solutions to running club gazebos. Other amenities included a hot food truck and a massage tent where tired legs could be coaxed back to life at any point as runners required. The pit lane atmosphere was that typical blend of anticipation and anxiety found at every race start line, the only exception being when the warmth of the sun and sense of community was occasionally disturbed by the roar of aeroplane turbines commuting to and from the nearby City Airport.
With the help of my friends we, first the first time in my life, pitched a tent. A feat for which I personally think we should’ve received a medal. I don’t consider myself to be a particularly good runner but I am a really good organiser of stuff, and I took great satisfaction in arranging my kit and equipment, all bagged and labelled accordingly of course, along either side of the tent interior.
By 11:30am, my race HQ was open for business and the guys bid me good luck and goodbye, leaving me to my final pre race rituals. At exactly just before noon I made my way up the pit lane towards the start line and reflected on the strategy I'd employ for the task at hand.
The plan was simple… I was going to run the entirety of the first hour as a “warm up” and then alternate walking for 30mins and running for 30 mins. Adjusting as needs be when the inevitable race effects would take hold. In terms of fuelling, the plan was less structured as I was opting to literally follow my gut. I had a wide variety of foods that I new I could comfortably run long on as well as my trusted gels (which I would not actually use at all)
My notion of what I wanted to achieve during from this challenge varied in ambition in the days before, but I finally settled my sights on running my longest run ever, making the target distance 101Km, anything beyond that would be a bonus. As an added challenge, I wanted to try and refrain from stopping for sleep and remain awake for the full 24 hours.
3, 2, 1, Go!
The first quarter went almost perfectly. I was feeling calm, confident and capable. The only deviation for the plan being an earlier than scheduled change of shoes from my On Cloudflyers to my recently purchased Hoka Mach 5’s. I’d initially planned to run for at least 12 hours before changing shoes but as I reached marathon distance, the firm base of Cloudflyers left me feeling the pavement pounding in my feet and calves much more than I would have liked at this stage. A quick dive into the tent to make the switch and the difference was immediate and immensely improved.
I am quite often asked about what one thinks about during longer runs, specifically runs like this where the one mile loop denies a change of scenery. The truth is that, a lot of the time, I don't think. Yes, there is a sense focus and you are monitoring things like your pace, and how you feel physically and of-course looking where you're going but these, I would say, are programs running in the background. For the most part, I think it’s best described as ‘meditating on the move.’ I’m not thinking about how far I've ran or how far I've yet to run, and I’m also not thinking about how well or poorly the run is going either. My brain just switches off and I am where I am. So despite having a selection of podcasts, playlists on hand which I could use to distract myself, for long stretches of the day I found solace in my mind’s silence and simply relaxed into the rhythm of my footsteps on the pavement.
Night descends on The Pit Lane
Round and round we ran as evening gave way to night, with everyone employing their own version of the walk / run rhythm. Passing midnight’s halfway line, I was beginning to feel the first whispers of pain in my legs. Most of my motivation had faded with the Saturday daylight and the early morning hours were spent almost exclusively walking. A key element to my strategy for this race that's worth mentioning is that I was consciously determined to not stop for any longer than was absolutely necessary, and to try and constantly move forward regardless of pace. It didn't matter if I couldn't physically or mentally run because, even if I was walking, I was making progress. In the words of Dean Karnazes;
"Run if you can, walk if you have to, crawl if you must."
Just before 3am, I reached 100km… My longest run ever mission was all but accomplished. This seemed like the perfect time to retreat into the tent and do a full change into fresh kit and run my legs over with the massage gun. With my running kit changed and my leg muscles massaged, the fog of fatigue descended and as I placed my shoes back on my feet, I found myself incapable of tying my shoelaces. I don’t know if in that moment I forgot how to, or if my brain simply couldn’t fire the necessary signals to my fingers but either way, my shoes were not about to be easily fastened. Struggling with how surreal this latest obstacle was, I conceded defeat and decided to lie down in the tent and rest.
Looking back, I made a potentially devastating error in that I did not set an alarm of any sort before resting, meaning I could have potentially slept for who knows how long! Thankfully, the parts of my tired brain that still worked were aware of the task at hand and, just 30mins later, I awoke at 4am. This short nap had cleared the fog from my mind but it also lit my legs on fire. Getting to my feet and out of the tent was, in hindsight, the single most difficult and painful thing I experienced in the 24 hours of the challenge.
Marching through the pain, my legs eventually sparked back to life and I walked into the early morning hours with increasing ease. At this point, I felt like running was back on the cards, but was opting for longer walking breaks and increased fuel intake in the hopes of having a late morning surge towards the final buzzer.
Each runner had been given a food voucher at registration which could be redeemed at the aforementioned food truck situated in the middle of the pit lane. Around 7:30am, I decided it was time for breakfast. I cashed in my voucher and proceeded to inhale the best bacon bap of my life… It was in this moment, however, that I realised for all my preparations and the variety of food and drinks I'd thought to bring, the one thing I forgot, that I would have done anything for in that moment ,was teabags…
By this stage the draw of the chair was strong, and it was beginning to cost me mental energy to resist a longer stay than necessary. Lamenting my missing morning brew, I rose from the chair at 8am and steeled myself for the final 4 hours.
My confidence and determination rose with the morning sun, as walking gave way to a shuffle, and a shuffle gave way to running. The plan was back in action! Armed with this renewed vigour, the next 3 hours honestly flew by. The 30 minute rhythm of the early race hours helped me digest those remaining hours in manageable portions rather than being overwhelmed by the sum of their parts.
As the final half hour began, I decided that whatever distance I ended up with, I was going out on the attack. And although I haven’t checked, I honestly believe I ran some of my fastest loops of the entire 24 hours in that final half hour. I found a new gear, where all the pain and fatigue fell from my clothes like sawdust in the wind and my strong finish earned encouragement and a warm applause from those spectating, which felt incredible. Despite each having our own goals, motivations and in some cases runners to look after, it’s hard not to feel like you’ve shared a meaningful journey with everyone present.
Finished.
Ultimately, I officially covered 125 Kilometres, well north of my 101Km target and close enough to 100 miles that it feels faintly achievable in the future.
Running the longest run of your life is a universal sensation. It's feels exactly the same for those who run 100Km for the first time as it does for those who finish their first 10K. That's the great thing about running, there may be different levels of ability but the prizes on offer are the same for all. For me, this wasn't really a race - more a celebration of running and being a runner. A celebration of running your own race, defining your own success and sharing that experience with others reaching for their own version of victory.
A final word of thanks to the guys at Atlas Running for organising the event and hats off to everyone with who took part, here’s hoping the day was as all you aspired it would be.
