Race Report: Millennium Way 38m Ultra-marathon

The Millennium Way within a day ultra
(Or 38 miles in hell)

All smiles, before the feet problems.

Why o why do I do it was the thought of this one. I had been talked in to this event by a few people I know and in particular Mat Simister had assured me that it was the right thing to do.


So come awards ceremony and my promise not to allow alcohol to pass my lips as it was only 36 hours before the event, was probably the moment I could say where this event had started to go wrong. Firstly the panic set in at the awards venue due to a heater problem, and then Mat confirmed he would not be running with me on the Sunday as he had a Park run to contend with on the Saturday hence I immediately turned to drink. A few drinks later and the awards ceremony now over, my mind turned to the big Sunday race. This race meant that I would have to leave home at 05-45 for the hour journey to Burton on Trent whereby we the competitors would be shipped off by coach on an hour and a half drive to somewhere near Newport. The brief was quite simple; we would then follow a disused path that was fully marked out to celebrate the millennium, hence the Millennium way.

There were a few reasons for me wanting to do this race. These reasons stemmed from being;  it would be a good session and test of my character and ability before taking on the  Hardmoors Ultra 55 mile foot race 3 weeks after. It meant a full kit test, a test of my navigation skills great opportunity for time on feet and the feel of what it’s like to carry such a heavy back pack for such a long distance.

Fellow runner takes a break

As I am learning in my adventures in to the ultra race theatre, the kit we use is the be all and end all of a race. One wrong decision over footwear, clothing, food or map and route planning can make all the difference between a nice fun day out and a complete disaster whereby grown men can be brought to tears. With this in mind and an email from the organisers informing us that many of the fields we would be running across were completely waterlogged and required careful navigation around gave me many choices to make. Much of the route would be on canal paths and similar to the salt line. Then there would be lots of really sodden fields before rejoining a canal path again. In an ideal world with this race I would have had road shoes for about 20 miles of the race and trails for the other 18 miles.
With all this in mind and the choices stacking up between the great road shoes I have versus the focused Salomon Fellraiers that I own I knew I needed something in between. Regular readers of my reports may recall the destruction that occurred to my Salomon XT hornets that fell apart during the Anglesey Ultra. This could only mean one thing, I needed to order some more, but this time I would opt for the gortex hornets that offer good waterproofing potential. Food ranged from my wonderful Chia charge bars and a few gels, flat coke and a bit of electrolyte drink as well as a few nuts. 

Cat, Paul and Wona

So at the start along with a few of my Facebook community friends we all got ready to go and with a blast of an air horn we were on our way. The check points were very evenly spread out being approx 9 miles apart. My strategy was to break the checkpoints down in to stages which would mean that I could simply concentrate on reaching each one. The course was described as being flat with no elevation, in fact the profile could actually state it was downhill. As I got in to my pace for the first 9 miles I found myself banging out consistant 10 min 10 second miles. The difference with this Ultra was that there were no hills to climb, no fences to open no stiles to climb no navigation breaks, it was a simple lock and load and go for it over the first 18 miles. As I was running and chatting to a few around me, it became apparent that I was actually being used as a pace setter for approx 15 runners. My Runkeeper app had actually made them realise that I was so consistent that they would like to run with me. Before long we reached the first checkpoint at 9 miles in 1 hour 22 minutes. With a little stop to take on some food and drink and make some kit adjustments and a chat with the helpers I was ready for the next stage. The first 4 miles would continue on canal path but then go through Stafford town centre following the river Sow. It would then continue across some very sodden fields on to another canal for another 5 or so miles. At the fields just north of Stafford I came across something funny but not very funny. One of the runners had lost his shoes in the bog. They had simply been sucked off his feet and disappeared, I stopped to offer some help in finding them along with some other runners and it struck me at what great camaraderie there is between this sadistic breed of runner.  We had managed to find one trainer but the other one just could not be recovered and for this poor gent, the race was over.

The Route

Soon after leaving this sad soul we hit the canal again and started running towards check point 2. This time though, like any good pacer, I dropped out and allowed the other runners to pass me by. I had it seemed stepped on some razor blades that were now firmly placed in the toe area of my feet and were now causing me to feel like my toes had been cut off without anesthetic. The pain was immense and I had not even reached 18 miles, I slowed a little to see if this would help but to no avail. Soon I stumbled across checkpoint 2 in 3 hrs 25 for some feed and water. I took off my socks and could see nothing but roar skin in the toe area. My footwear choice had failed me and left me with incredible blistering. Fortunately my experience has taught me how to make sure that you pack blister plasters in to your kit. I therefore placed the plasters on and headed off along the canal with a shuffle and a hobble and a scream as I went. 

Checkpoint 2-3 was where it became far more difficult in terms of running. Much of it was across sodden fields full of boggy mud and some real difficult navigation through the puddles. I had thought that the course being so flat would help me and somehow make it easier. In fact, it was the opposite, I don’t know why but my body was aching in places it shouldn’t of, places that I had never ached in before. I longed for a hill and some stunning scenery anything to take my mind off the pain I was faced with but alas no such thing. The only consolation was that running or moving through the fields of bog gave my feet a well earned rest from the hard stuff. I was now very much alone and very wet as it had started to pour down with rain that would not ease up for the rest of the event. For the first time I started to have some real doubts about this event and knew that pulling on your inner strength is the only way to see it through. I listened to some audio books and just kept moving. About this time I decided that this was to be my last Ultra ever, in fact I was quite sure that I would be cancelling all further marathons and actually giving up running. It just wasn’t worth carrying on this obsession/hobby/weight loss therapy/ torture/social event etc etc. It was now time for me to knock it on the head whilst I still have some sanity and take up darts or snooker. With the inside of my head and my head in bits I checked my app and my Facebook page to see I had a few messages of support from friends which was so so welcome at the time. I then came through a field in to a housing estate took a left and there it was, A PUB....not just any pub though, but a pub that had been turned in to a checkpoint, the final checkpoint.

 I fed and watered myself and then took off again in pursuit of the final goal. More muddy fields ensured and I started to overtake a few people who were also in tears. With a few words of encouragement for them I finally managed to make it on to the canal. The worst stretch of canal that there was/is in the country. This stretch simply runs alongside the a38 and consists of nothing but Lorries and cars whistling past you on your right. I had struggled though a lot of this race with the pains in my feet and the new aches on my legs but now I was actually ceasing up and grinding to a halt. I still had about 8.5 km to travel. Now I started to break this down, less than a 10k only a little more than a park run it’s the winter route I would tell myself. This is no different for an ultra or a park run, but if your knocked in pain and you’ve given your all and there’s such a short distance to go the last stage of the event seems to take so much longer. I read the map again and again. I was convinced I had gone the long way; no 3k could be this long. But eventually I saw it, the marina where we would leave the canal, hit the road; turn left for 150 meters before turning right in to the leisure complex and the finish.

Average Pace and Profile

With a few shouts out and whoops of joy I hit the finish area. I had made it, in pain but I had made it. I got changed and had a chat with the organiser as I tried to find out why such a flat run had taken me longer than a hilly one. He told me that many many runners had really struggled with the course because it was so flat. There were 100 starters, and only 90 finishers and I had struggled over placed 77, so back 1/3 of the pack meant nothing new, but what I had done was completed my longest ever foot race.

So yep that’s it, it’s the end of my running career, and no more running for me it’s over. Well it’s over until next week’s Bolton hill marathon....

I can’t say I enjoyed the millennium way ultra, I thought the course was uninspiring in what I look for in an ultra, the camaraderie was good though and one must remember that monies raised goes to charity and the organisers do a sterling job.

I had somehow talked myself in to using this event as preparation for the Hardmoors 55 and It proved a good exercise that I might hopefully find useful for the HM 55. Firstly the texts from a few members and the Facebook encouragement really helped. It prevented me from giving up when the pain in my feet made me think that giving up was in fact the only option. As time went on I realised the value of correct kit choice and how hard it is running with such a big kit on your back, all of which is required for a tough 55 mile footrace through the unforgiving Yorkshire moors. I’m not too worried about the elevation at the HM 55 as some hills actually give you a break where here there was none. The HM 55 has strict cut off times throughout the event with the added first aid checks at checkpoints to ensure you can continue. As I write this there is snow on the hills of the course so I understand the importance of this. I also have my feet in a foot spa being massaged in order to try and recover them as quick as possible.

I have now perversely came up with a way to describe these events to the non partaker. Imagine starting off full of life, anticipation and joy at the thought of achievement. Then after a little while, stop and bang your head against a brick wall for some 5 hours, then stop banging your head against a brick wall and feel the relief that its over and you succeeded in banging your head against a brick wall for some 5 hours.  Bizarre but strangely so so addictive. 

For more information visit the race website.

Till next time
Paul N