My Maverick Silva Dark Race - Enjoyable And Brutal
I first heard of the Maverick Silva Dark series from one of the participants in the Running Adventures Trail Workshop I took part in in October. I knew some ultra-marathons were long enough for participants to have to carry on running through the night. I had also heard that my running club, the Wimbledon Windmilers, held an annual Darkness Dash of 3.5 miles that took participants into Wimbledon Common at night and that itself sounded quite exciting. But the idea of running a longer run of approx 15k in the South Downs, an area which I had heard to be stunning but never visited by day, was just too good (and too crazy) to miss.
The Preparation
I do run at night regularly currently, just because this is the only time I manage to fit a run in after work and putting the kids to bed. But my definition of night running is basically running after sunset around my block, which is suitably lit up with street lights. I do wear a head torch generally because some streets are better lit than others, and some pavements have roots growing through which you wouldn’t want to trip over. But this is a far cry from running in complete darkness. I have tried running on the edge of Wimbledon Common at night also, just because it felt a little bit different and exciting but it was probably a 10min job. All this to say I had done very little training specifically for that race. I had planned to do the Windmilers Darkness Dash, which conveniently fell a few days before the Maverick race, but my husband had already made plans for that night so I was stuck at home that evening. So I was really in the dark about running in the dark by the time race day arrived. Also, and very much to my surprise, I felt extremely excited with not even the tiniest sign of race nerves (a first for me).
Race Day
The race took place in Queen Elizabeth Park in Hampshire, which was a good hour drive away from home. I didn’t want to make the mistake I had made the previous week with the Windsor and Eton half-marathon and ensured I arrived an hour before the race to have plenty of time to take care of everything from registration to loo stop. By then it was starting to get dark and it was also starting to get pretty wet and muddy. I don’t know why, but somehow when I signed up I had pictured running that race in dry conditions. The part of my brain that makes me sign up for things like this is always overly optimistic and never ever pictures anything going less than perfectly. This is really only after registration, after I was asked whether I still wanted to do the ‘long’ run (there were also a 10k ‘middle’ run and 5k ‘short’ run offered as alternatives), that the penny dropped and I started to face the reality of having to run through uneven muddy grounds I was totally unfamiliar with with only my headtorch to guide my way. Hmm. I could have gone back to the dryness of my car and headed back home but I was still rather intrigued by what that race would be like. I knew there would be some hills but despite taking a picture of the elevation for Instagram purpose, I didn’t actually really look at it and I had absolutely no idea of where the hills were located and how big there were. I wonder now whether this is the kind of details that my brain intentionally blocks out, as it just didn’t occur to me to actually look at the numbers.
The route (in red)
The atmosphere felt quite surreal. It was like a bit like going to a Christmas fair, especially seeing the beautiful cake stand where you could buy a variety of delicious-looking puddings as well as hot beverages. I would have been tempted but knew it would not have been be too wise to start the race whilst trying to digest a sticky ginger pudding. I thought I would leave it until after the race, at least then I would feel like I deserved it. I made my way to some fire pits instead, suitably located under a tree, which looked just like the right place for me given the weather conditions. A few runners had congregated there to keep warm and I started chatting with another runner who was running the 10k before heading home to get dressed up for a wedding party. I thought this was pretty typical of the sort of unconventional planning most runners are accustomed to and I suppressed a laugh thinking about our madness (I had myself spent my morning at soft play with my kids, which seem as remote as I could think of my current location).
Trying to Keep Warm Before the Race
My training plan called for a 2k warm-up, which was the last thing I wanted to do before embarking on that race but I obliged, and headed off in the darkness to get a feel for what was awaiting. I quickly got surrounded by complete darkness, albeit for an odd photo flash which caught me by surprise and reminded me that there would be some race photos provided. It got slightly eerie when I turned after 1k to find that not only I couldn’t see the registration area but I couldn’t hear a sound. It was like being lost in the woods at night with no one around. I wouldn’t say I was freaked out by it but it definitely had a strange feel to it. I got flashed on the way back to the start also and I did wonder whether it was just an automatic flash or whether an actual picture had been taken, in which case it would be the first ever race picture of me from the rear! I returned to the start just in time for the gun to go off and the sea of torch lights scattered as runners were trying to adjust to the terrain and the darkness.
The first section was not so different from any race due to the light emitted by the various torches. I certainly didn’t feel alone, I was trying not to step on anyone’s toes. But after a few kilometres, the different race routes separated and there were fewer of us left. I was annoyed that the light emitted by my torch looked blurry, which in insight may have been due to the rain or possibly a bit of fog. I just couldn’t see as sharply as when I had tried the torch near home. As the race went on, we got more separated, to the point where I found myself running on my own. It reminded me of the Cotswolds Way Challenge earlier this year where I ended up running alone also. Except it was a very different experience in the dark. I didn’t find it scary or unsettling. I found it to be a mostly mindful experience, although this feeling was regularly interrupted by me swearing because I had poorly landed on my foot and rolled my ankle. This happened a few times and each time became more painful. I did worry at some point that I may end up twisting it and grinding to a halt, which wasn’t something I wanted to face at that time of the evening and in that remote location. I decided to slow down instead and be a bit more careful about my foot placement. But by half way, my legs felt tired and unsteady. As I approached a massive puddle and took half a second too long to decide how to avoid it my foot caught the edge of something (most likely just a stone) and I found myself flying forward in a slow-motion sort of way and sliding across the muddy/stony ground. That was quite a face plant. I got up and did a quick check in only to find my hands covered in mud coloured by some blood. The cut didn’t look too bad so I didn’t really give it a second thought and plodded on. My ankle felt a little bit tender and my legs were a bit shaken by the fall. Unfortunately this had happened near the bottom of a long shallow hill. At first I didn’t think much of it but as I still couldn’t see the end of the hill after a little while and felt a bit weak I eventually switched to walking. This was probably sensible of me given what had happened but I then got overtaken by a few runners and this felt like a twist of the knife in my hand cut. Was I being a wimp?? I carried on, trying to keep up with two men but after a kilometre of two I lost them. I had been hoping to maybe catch up with some of the women who had overtaken me earlier but not to avail. The downhills were tough also. I know the theory of getting down fast but I just don’t have enough training to implement it to my benefit and didn’t really want to risk another fall so probably looked more like Bambi. I was getting tired by then, still enjoying the race but having to focus hard on my footing. And then we hit this massive hill. Most people started walking it and I was definitely not going to attempt a hilly run at that point. It seemed to go on and on… until I spotted a car park. And then some bright lights. Ugh? That looked like the finish area! I had never had a race finishing on top of a steep hill before, I had to switch to a trot as it just didn’t feel right to walk up to the finish line, no matter how tempting it was. I crossed the finish line in 1:27:02, much earlier than I had thought. Then I realised my Garmin estimated the race as 14k and not the advertised 15k I had been expecting, so my pace had not been as good as I initially thought. I ranked 65th out of 97 participants and 13th out of 22 women. But I did not think I had failed, as I had lots of respect of the runners ahead of me who seemed more experienced (and resilient!) than me.
What Happens When You Do a Face Plant on a Muddy Trail
Race Lessons
As always in a race I got a few take-aways, as follow:
A race in the dark is harder than you expect. Yes you have the torch but it definitely doesn’t give you the luminosity you get from day light. Just think of the difference between driving during the day and at night. Yes you may have your car lights on but you still get tired more quickly at night because your field of vision is reduced. Running in the dark has the same effect.
If your are not accustomed to running this type of race and it is not your ultimate year goal, do not push it. As I was rolling my ankle, all I could think of was whether I would get injured and whether this would affect my training for the Edinburgh Marathon. The risk just wasn’t worth taking, so I adapted my pace to the conditions accordingly.
It is a great experience, and it actually is fun! That may not come across very well in the above but I did thoroughly enjoy it. I have run lots of races over the years but nothing quite compared to that one. Although it was tough, I would definitely do something like this again at the drop of a hat. Crazy, me?
Still Smiling!
Happy running!