I’m not writing this as a typical race report of my experience in what is well known as a tough, dig deep ultra trail race. I actually wasn’t going to write anything at all, but changed my mind after a couple of weeks of contemplation.

It’s more of a tale of a journey, fuelled almost entirely by a motivation to reach the finish that is not directly rooted in endurance sport, but a journey that I hope helps give legacy and tribute to a sadly missed dear friend.

Event Perspective

I love the concept of this race. I loved the atmosphere and camaraderie before the start of this race especially. The start was pretty unique and makes it worth entering just for the madness of watching your fellow competitors scatter in all directions at midnight! 

I love the whole weekend vibe of being involved in this race.

This is our fourth year as a family in Coniston, having completed JTF (just the 50) for the past 3 years.

I think I had run out of excuses not to enter the 100. I’d steadily improved my experience and time each year in the 50, but was never really enticed to step up to the 100, possibly because you see a lot of 100 legends in a pretty dark place as you pass them by!

Attrition. Noun; the process of reducing something’s strength or effectiveness through sustained attack or pressure

The Arc of Attrition had its inaugural year in 2015 and is a 100 mile coastal ultramarathon, held in winter on the South West Coastal Path over exposed and remote terrain in many places. Designed to be an extreme challenge with strict cut offs, the degree of difficulty to complete is also dependent on prevailing Atlantic coastal conditions.

Motivation is everything. When you want something this much, then you surely will prevail. Well, after 3 days spent running 135 miles, I have proven to myself beyond doubt if there ever were any, that the mind rules the body and your legs will go where you direct them.

 This could be a long race report and so I feel that I need to set the context.

One of the first things that crossed my mind at about 10:25pm on Saturday night was; no blog for me thank you. That was an initial reflection at the end of a race that frankly went arse up when the cramp put a halt on proceedings on the way up Garburn Pass.

 However, there is always something to be learned from a race and reflection helps you improve, so I’m sat at the computer after all, glass half empty thoughts banished. My blog is basically notes for personal future reference.

 Two things attracted me to this race; a distance challenge above 50 miles, having done several of those already, but below 100 miles, as I tend to be made of glass at times! Secondly, the midnight start gave me a chance to run all night and experience an endurance race on zero sleep. There is a third; I just love the Lake District!

Being our local trail and nearest ultra, this event has steadily attracted more Spartans year by year and now has a special place in my calendar.

 I have run the full distance about 9 times now, so I am pretty familiar with the route.

This includes two epic, cold December night time headtorch runs, with my last pilgrimage coming on a hot Easters day with Dave and Andy. I guess we must like this trail!