Lee’s Oner

Hi, I’m Lee, I took on the Brutal Rab’s Oner (third distance) for the very first time this year.

Where to start… I’m not an ultra runner, I’ve never even completed a marathon, I do a couple of gym classes a week and hadn’t even really laced up my running trainers in 2023!

Oh, and I’m visually impaired, yup, I run with a guide.

So why did I do it? I’ve spent the last few months as an armchair athlete, reading about the endeavours and successes of others (shout out to George Mahood for planting the seed with his DNF series). One Friday night, walking past the pub I saw a sign for a Beer race as part of the Brew-Dorch event, a fancy dress time trial around ten of Dorchester’s best ale houses, self-navigated, that very Sunday evening. Hmmm, now that was my kind of race! I put a message out to friends who I’ve run with before , and one agreed to guide. Long story short, but with a local advantage (we’d drunk in each of those pubs…), a small field of competitors, and the fact we didn’t actually stop for a drink until the end, we ended up winning the race. Now, there’s nothing like a small victory to give you a disproportionate sense of ability (for the record, the Beer race wasn’t much over 5k and took us just under an hour).

Buoyed on by my first victory since the 50m egg and spoon at my first school, I started looking for my next challenge. The criteria were simple, I had a free weekend in April and it had to be local. The Oner popped up in my search engine, could it be done, 29 miles, that was more than double the distant I’d ever ran before, off road, that would certainly make things interesting…

I emailed Claire and James, explained my situation, and they were supportive from the start. Damn, I couldn’t now use that as an excuse not to sign up! No matter, no one would be daft enough to agree to guide me round the course, that’ll give me an out I thought! I sent a message out to my friends, all of whom thought I was kidding (note to organisers, when arranging an event on April Fool’s Day…), however, once I’d explained I was in fact serious, if having a moment of madness, Maz (made in the British army) offered to help, double damn now, no way out. I signed us up. What was the worst that could happen, we had over four weeks to train together?

Two solo training runs later and after a couple of shared texts we collected Maz on route to the start, this was going to be a huge test in the spirit of ‘winging it’.

The midday start meant no early morning wake up (that may have had a little influence over choice of race) and the inside space in which to congregate was a really welcome boost. Check in was so smooth and all the crew very accommodating and welcoming that the nerves didn’t really start to hit until we were climbing off the bus in Charmouth. Then POW, oh shit, what have I done, this is crazy, everyone else looks so much fitter and ready, the adrenaline kicked in, my heart rate started to race, breathing was laboured, and at this point we were only just putting our waterproofs on sheltering under the café eves !!!

We slowly walked to the start, the gun went off on the dot at noon and we were off. Maz took the lead, with me following in her footsteps a meter or two behind, where she went, I followed. It was heads down from the off and straight into big climbs over the hills, walking poles were essential, not just for the extra support but also to help judge the depth of steps. There was at least a little silver lining to the weather, I struggle in bright light, my vision is best in low light conditions and the drizzle certainly provided for that!    

I was surprised by the pace, timing and navigation were all in Maz’s very capable hands and she ran us to clockwork to hit our checkpoint and cut off times. Whenever it was flat we the were jogging, if the decent wasn’t too steep, we’d run, I thought I was pretty good at an active recovery in-between burst of effort in a spin class, but this really did test my limits, there was no time to dawdle after a steep climb, if we were to hit those checkpoints we had to push on…

After about half an hour the initial adrenaline had settled, I was actually able to catch my breath (I think I may have worried Maz over those first few miles, wheezing and panting not being greater markers of fitness for a test of endurance…) and enjoy the challenge. There are some serious climbs before the first check point, but the legs felt good, and we’d kept falls in the single digits despite the slippery slopes trying their very best to throw me off balance. It was a welcome sight to see our families at the first check point cheering us on, with a few spare minutes before cut off too 😊 Jelly babies, drinks and muddy hugs were had before we set off again in the direction of Abbotsbury. The smiling faces of loved ones a definite boost!

I’d walked this next session of race only a few weeks before, so knew what was to come, the shingle beach. In my mind I was looking forward to it as a departure and distraction from all the mud, and I knew it was at least flat, but the novelty soon wore off. That was one seriously hard stretch. It gave a nice break from all the concentrating I’d been doing , as you couldn’t go far wrong with your footing, it didn’t matter where you placed yourself you were sinking into the stones, but after a couple of kms I was longing for the mud again! What I hadn’t factored in was that time lost here through plodding along the beach had to be made up on the harder ground, just when your legs had had enough, we had to put in some of our quicker splits to get back on track.

Abbotsbury was the next check point, up and down we went again, revelling in a few hard and dry sections underfoot, how good it felt to be running along firm ground. The views from here were (apparently!) spectacular, with our finish line in Portland even visible. We met our crew at the next CP, snickers, salted peanuts and more jelly babies to refuel, then we were off again, still a little time in the bag.

The distance to CP3 would take me into new territory, further than I had ever run before. I figured though if we could make it there before the cut off, then we’d finish the race, even if just through good old fashioned pig headed stubbornness. If I’m being honest, I can’t remember much about this leg, it was simply head down one foot in front of each other , following in Maz’s footsteps, listening out for her shouting hole, divot, camber, step! Something that you don’t often appreciate about your guide is that they have to be so much fitter than you, they have to be able to talk and run at the same time whilst concentrating on everything around them too. When I was feeling a little drained, I could retreat into my shell and go quiet, that wasn’t an option for Maz, she had to keep guiding the whole way through, even when she was out of breath.

CP3 came sooner than expected, where the best egg mayo sandwiches were there to be had. Just the four rounds later and with a full tum it was time to be heading off. The crew forewarned us that the mud we’d had so far was nothing compared to what we were about to go thought, and they were right, speedos and goggles would have been more suitable than trainers for the final stretch. Mud, mud and more mud is all that I can say. I quickly learnt here that the most solid ground can be found under the wet bits, so to avoid slipping down the banks, just aim for the deepest wettest looking holes!

By this time my energy levels were floundering and it was a case of counting down the milestone, 15km to go, 10km to go, yay , your first marathon (what, whoop whoop, I’m now a marathon runner!), 5km to go, the final hill, number 11 on your route, tick…wait, why are we going uphill again, you said that was the LAST hill, oh, hill 11 it turn out has a part A and a part B ☹Passing the crab shack, mmmm, hitting the causeway to Portland. By this time it was now, run 4 lampposts, walk 4 lampposts, run 4 lampposts, wait, is that a running coming out of Portland, that’s 13 miles ahead of us, wow, he looks so fresh, how…  Onto Portland, the leisure centre in view, once last push, family there to run the last 100m with us, and over the line.

Ouch, ouch, ouch, can someone help me with my muddy trainers, I don’t think I can bend over?

It took me 1 week to recover from the run, I’m still finding mud in new places and think I’ll have frown lines forever from the levels of  concentration that the event took, but,  I hope the sense of achievement and accomplishment that I felt from completing the  run will stay with me a lot longer.

This challenge was never about a PB or specific time, it was about just seeing what was possible. Maz, my guide, is an absolute legend. My achievement here is really down to her, she kept me not only on my feet and on track, but perhaps more importantly kept me going when my spirits were flagging .

I have absolutely no idea how others went on to achieve the half or full, I was done after just 29 miles! Those that did are awesome, I have so much respect for you, but even if you just made it to the start line, then I think you should be immensely  proud of yourself.

To the Brutal Crew I say a huge thank you. The event was really well organised, run and supported. You accommodated my needs and took it in your stride, we really valued the personal touch and coming over and saying hello, checking in with us and seeing if we had everything we needed was very much appreciated.

It was far from easy, it was Brutal, but it was achievable.

One day I may be back for the half.

Maybe…