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‘That’s right Kathryn … just like a bear I like taking a shit in the woods’ – these were the words I left my boss with as she went on to her annual leave. She’s American, not 100% sure about my deadpan style of humour and it amuses me to tell her I leave big pooey deposits in the woods and then simply hang up the phone. You may call this childish and in fact it is but talking about it brings me to a problem that has been causing me nonstop grief for my last few races … that’s right the pre-race poo and the effect of not having it.

Now this is the final warning you’re getting, this post may contain words like poo, dump, turd, anal sphincter, streaky, sloppy or worse, you have been warned.

So far in 2015 I’ve raced 7 times and of those 7 races I’ve had problems on 4 occasions.

Let’s start at the Vigo 10 where my lack of ability to use the facilities (in this case because of forgetfulness) caused me to squeezing my arse cheeks together from about mile 2. There is no doubt that my need to keep my peachy cheeks pursed will definitely have had an effect on my time at the race.

The Brands Hatch Half came next and this time my need to use the facilities wasn’t seemingly needed until about mile 3 of the race – thankfully I was able to pull in at one of the facilities later in the race (but I had already used the facilities fully that morning). I mean seriously body, could you not hang on?

Next up was the SDW50 – the good news is that on an ultra I’m always prepared for this eventuality (poo bags and shit roll) but I was lucky that I wasn’t caught short until well beyond mile 40 and actually it would be more problematic to stop and shit than simply keep going. The bonus here was I’d managed to visit the little boys room at the start and despite my fear that my deposit was simply an uncorking it proved just the tonic to get me most of the way around. However, I had been concerned that very much like the 2014 edition of the SDW50 I might have to find a discreet place and do like the bears do. Weirdly I had a little smile as I went past the place I had stopped last year, not so much happy memories as glad I wasn’t stopping there again.

And finally to the Darent Valley which despite only being a 10km proved that ‘poo’ can fuck you over whenever it wants. I knew it was going to be a problem because it was an 8.30am start, I needed to leave the house by 6.40am and I was cycling on rough roads and toughish hills – all these things have a habit of making me need the loo.

I was aware on arrival that my morning visit to mr armitage and mr shanks would be due shortly but the brewing of my morning offering would be incomplete before the race commenced. What to do? History has shown that running and needing to have a crap causes all sorts of physical and mental problems but trying to force Mother Nature is probably never a good idea 10 minutes before the race begins.

There was no compromise I was going to have to run with ‘the urge to go’. With a bit of luck and a fair wind (poor choice of words) I’d be back in 45 minutes or so and could then avoid the large crowds of people queueing and make my call of nature.

However, more than on any other race this year the pain was excruciating, stomach cramps, sphincter clenching and a mental fear that I was going to douse myself in filth going up or down a hill was my only thought as I hit the second kilometre marker. You will of course be pleased to hear that I made it back to the finish without leaving any UltraBoy fecal matter on the mean hills of Kent but there is no doubt that the pain I was in and the urgent need to go is having an effect on my times and at the Darent Valley it was noticeable.

What’s Happening? Undoubtedly I get nervous pre-race and know that a lot of runners do and the galloping trots is not unheard of. Also not unheard of is the fear of using the portaloos/toilets – myself included. I will never forget the state of one of the toilets at C2C in the pub at the start line, the poo was poking above the toilet seat line – if you saw that you’ll never forget it, nor did you want to use it (additionally though I’d like to praise the organisation of the C2C team, the toilet issue was beyond their control).

Then there’s the shaking and the jiggling of the running (and in the case of my last 10km the cycling) which just makes everything that bit more mobile in the colon! And sometimes the effect of this is that you’ve simply got to go in public. My experience at my first SDW50 was so mortifying that it brings tears to my eyes simply thinking about it, but the worst bit was it took me more than 5 miles to find a discreet spot not too far off the course that I could relieve myself with some modicum of privacy.

What do I do? Well no chilli, no curry, nothing spicy, nothing too salty or sugary in the days leading up to a race – I eat bland food, increase vegetables and avoid things I know will upset me. I try and rotate my day round a little bit so that I can hopefully visit the little boys room earlier in the day without it feeling unnatural and I try and sleep more than I do in a normal week – all of this helps but I believe that my preparation for races in 2015 has been less structured and this might be the cause of my race day toilet disasters.

Curious? I’m somewhat curious about other peoples poor pre race toilet experiences and how they have coped with them? Not out of some weird fetish but more to see if there is something else I can do to resolve getting to the start line with stomach cramps or the need to be clenching inside! I can believe this is a post that won’t be to everyones taste (poor choice of phrasing again) but it is one of those topics that we have pretty all been affected by but avoid talking about because it is pretty grim.

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I could sum this up in one sentence, that sentence would be ‘feck me that was fun’. But this would provide an injustice to supporting a lovely new event that clearly took lots of organisation and had certain challenges of nature that threw things slightly into chaos – let me explain.

I signed up a couple of weeks ago to Xtreme Beach with Xtreme running because it simply sound an absolute hoot and because at the time I didn’t have a knackered Achilles, but just a few short days before, for the first time I injured the one thing that I really didn’t want to injure. Thankfully with a lot of effort and a lot of ice I managed to drag myself to start line in Bradwell on Sea in Essex. The first thing we noticed was that the emailed out directions to the event were very good and we arrived in very good time with the added bonus of free parking. Awaiting us was signage to indicate we had arrived and there were runners and race organisers floating around directing people over to the start line – all good so far. I even noticed that the couple of toilets weren’t in bad condition either – although I was there early and didn’t use them but the good lady did and she wasn’t too distressed by them.

I nipped over to the registration tent where I remembered that I had left my ‘Waiver form’, say on the printer at home, but the guys resolved this problem pretty easily for which I was grateful. I was asked how many laps I intended to do and I offered my usual – all of them please answer, the full 18km. I had decided that I would keep running until it was no longer safe to do so and therefore I needed to make sure I had the right amount of distance signed up for.

I was a little distressed as my feet had taken a soaking in the long grass on the way to the registration but there was nothing to be done about this now and although I had now seem a much drier path it was too late – perhaps a little directional signage would have helped here? I have to say though it was a rather jovial atmosphere though and by the time a few dozen runners had arrived and the music was in full swing, one could of mistaken this for a bit of rave had it not been for the early morning setting and the amount of trainers and Lycra on show. Sadly it then turned a bit miserable when the first obstacle hit home – the hail storm, this was well and truly beyond the organisers control but being in the long grass of the field with no cover meant that we pretty much all took quite an unpleasant soaking and the race was still 45 minutes away. I was freezing and contemplated pulling out as what looked like a load of fun now looked like being pretty miserable but I’m glad I didn’t.

10.30 turned up and the race should have started but over the PA system we heard it was running a few minutes late and that the warm up would take place soon. This was fine as at least they kept us informed and the warm up was okay although I felt some of it in the long grass might have led to potential injuries and given my already knackered state I took this section rather easy. So despite a few teething problems, mostly caused by Mother Nature the registration was pretty smooth.

At the start line we all ganged up together and readied for the off, I started in my customary place at the back and would work my way forward, the first kilometre was fine although bereft of any really nice scenery or challenges and I used this to move up the field a little bit. Then we saw it, the first of the challenges, we crossed into what can only be described as a very long stream of glorious shit, chest high in places and filling all our crevices with black mud. My Speedcross 3 with their gloriously grippy grip kept getting caught in the mud and refusing to come free but I powered forward as only a runner can! I slipped at one point and my head was dunked just below the surface and this was the bit where I knew I was going to enjoy this. After what felt like an age we came out of the mud and many of the runners simply started to walk but I pulled myself out and started to run for the monkey bars, it was a great disappointment that I saw a number of the runners avoiding the black pool of filth because if you weren’t going to do the adventure element of the race then what was the point? Anyway I digress .. I managed about 2/3 of the monkey bars and then hurtled past a dude called Gary who I had met earlier, I jumped under the first of the netting and used my head as a guide (getting friction burns on my scalp I think!) coming out of this was a delight until I crossed onto the beach and the lovely Marshall advised we were going down on hands and knees again. I adopted the same routine and came up for air quickly, holding the netting for my fellow competitors. Pushing onwards and upwards I came to the tyre lift and hurled some abuse at a lovely chap who was offering comedy support, into the water once again and then back out hurling my tyre on the rack. I was now tiring, more from a lack of training and being injured than the course but it was taking its toll and I hoped to simply make it to that second lap. I threw myself over the double wall they had erected and then onto the bag of stone lift – it was here I decided on doing just a single lap as the weight of the stone make breathing difficult and while I recovered once the weight was off me I wasn’t sure I fancied it again and my Achilles was feeling tighter than I had hoped. I therefore trundled beyond the turn, thanking the Marshall and organiser at the turning but deciding to go to the finish. I did give the finish a bit of fizz as is my usual way and I sprinted straight into the final obstacle of two large gentlemen brandishing large cushioned batons to beat me with! Ha, wonderful.

I was cut, bloodied and bruised but I felt rather wonderful at the finish line and this was a great event.

Perhaps a few things to consider though, I run for the bling … I suppose I’d rather have a medal than a t-shirt, the goody bag was decent, banana, hot soup, T-shirt, water (although would like to have seen the logo on the T-shirt). The registration area would probably have been better in the car park, or on slightly more even and drier ground given the autumnal setting and then we could have been led to the start line.

The marshals were excellent, giving clear directions and lots of lovely support, so many thanks to them. I imagine that as the event gets bigger and better the organisers will add little tricks and touches to the route and the obstacles but I thought they made great use of the landscape and terrain in developing complex challenges. The choice of 6,12 and 18km on the day and as you are going round was also very welcome and that option to stop when you needed to meant I was actually able to participate despite injury.

I would certainly do this again, although the normal entry price of £40 seems reasonably steep – even things like the Grim and Beast in the East manage to keep it a little cheaper than this but the discounts via Twitter (and I imagine Facebook) made the cost more sensible – infact for the £22.00 I paid I thought it was a bargain.

In conclusion I can say a few things, the first is that while this is not on the scale of the Mens Health Survival of the Fittest, nor Grim Challenge it has an epic charm all of its own and if they manage to tweak some of the very minor problems in registration then they have a winning formula and coupled with a great attitude and a listening ear this event will become a regular on many peoples calendar. Finally I would like to congratulate the organisers for their hard work because without them we wouldn’t have places to race and they seemed so genuinely passionate – plus the thing I really loved was that they wanted the runners feedback – this is the kind of thing that will make this event stand out as it moves forward. So thanks very much and good luck for the future Xtreme Running and I look forward to seeing you for the 18km next year.

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