So this weekend I ran yet another ultra. The NoMad 50, which is a 50 
mile run around Derby. It's organised by the Long Eaton Running Club, a 
group of really enthusiastic and friendly runners.
I'd 
entered this race early in the year. At £25 pounds entry fee (if I 
remember correctly) I wasn't expecting too much from the race 
particularly considering that I've recently been paying close to £100 
for some 50 milers.
As time went by the NoMad facebook 
page came alive with regular updates and this inspired me to book into a
 hotel and commit to the race. The closer we got to the race the more 
frequent the facebook updates and the more excited I became for the 
race.
I'm a 'get value for your entry fee' runner (or 
as some of my less charitable friends would say, I'm slow) the advantage
 of which is that there's always someone in front of you to follow. I 
could never win races as the stress of having to pioneer the route for 
yourself would be too much. So, knowing that I'm always towards the back 
of the field, the comments on the website about navigation on the route 
didn't bother me, after all I'd just follow the runner in front.
But
 then one evening I started reading feedback from earlier NoMad 50 
events and got the shock that there might only be about 20 runners! 
Panic set in. I downloaded, printed out and studied all the route info 
(of which there is a lot on the NoMad website). I watched a few YouTube 
videos on how to use a compass and finally, I was reassured when the 
organisers said they'd mark difficult parts of the course with tape and 
paint.
And so on the morning of 28 June I sped off with
 a group of about 20 runners. I kept up with everyone until I had to 
remove my waterproof top. By the time I'd done so everyone had shot off 
into the distance and I was alone. Not a problem! I pulled out the route
 maps and course description and did my best to recall those YouTube 
videos I'd watched.
The first few miles lulled me into a
 sense of security about my navigational skills ... but then with the 
benefit of hindsight, who can't run in a straight line keeping the canal
 on your right until you hit bridge 14? Anyhoo, onwards I shuffled.
Then
 we hit the fields. Occasionally I got glimpses of runners and was able 
to 'navigate' the area successfully (by just aiming for them). A few 
times I caught up with runners (although usually I was being overtaken 
as the NoMad has a staged start so that faster runners don't have to 
wake up at silly o'clock) and trudged along with them until they did 
that whole 'trained athlete' thing and started running faster than I 
could.
But there were those parts where I had to do my 
own navigation. In some places I was really good at it ... oh okay, the 
instructions were so detailed that you'd have struggled to get lost. But
 in other places there were references to keep going south/north/east or
 west (or some combination of the four). As there was no sun on the day I
 couldn't do the Bear Grylls thing and look at shadows before shooting 
off in the appropriate direction. So I got the compass out, looked at it
 and realised that all memory of the content of the YouTube videos I'd 
watched had vanished in much the same way as my son does after supper 
when the kitchen needs to be cleaned up.
And then there
 were the 'head to the right of the large oak tree' type instructions. 
They would have been really helpful except that to me all trees look the
 same (and I'm not being racist, some of my best friends are trees), and
 I am unable to tell the difference between any two different types of 
bushes. So I would just choose the biggest tree, or the largest bush ...
 let's face it, I've got a 50% chance of being right as it's either the 
right tree/bush or not. 
Now for those of you that read
 blogs written by proper athletes and trained ultra runners you know 
they describe how they got into their rhythm at mile such and such, how 
they monitored their food and liquid intake etc. etc. Well it was at 
this stage that I got into my rhythm which I'll describe here because it
 might be useful to someone.
Basically I ran as best I 
could following the instructions. Approximately 50% of the time this 
worked. For the remaining 50% I soon realised I was lost. At that stage 
I'd stare really hard at the course photos and instructions (I think 
it's an evolutionary thing, I do the same when my car breaks down, open 
the bonnet and stare at the engine ... before phoning the RAC). Then 
look around slowly, go into Bear Grylls mode and try find trampled grass
 that would indicate someone had passed here recently (believe me, some 
of these fields had only been passed by NoMad runners in the last 5 
years). Important point, when you do find such trails, make sure it's 
not one of your earlier ones. If that doesn't work look for someone to 
help (sometimes you have to walk quite far to find someone in such 
remote areas). Ask them if they've seen some runners come by recently, 
if the answer is yes, just find out what direction they were going. If 
the answer is no then don't be shy, give them the race instructions and 
ask them to point you in the direction of any point they recognise on 
those instructions.
By following these simple 
instructions you will find that when you download your GPS data to your 
computer you will have a nice single line interspersed with tangles, 
something like this:
My
 day brightened when I saw a group of slow moving runners ahead. I tried
 to catch up to them but it turns out that their slow was fast compared 
to my pace and so it took a while. As it happened the group was made up 
of the two back markers and an accompanying club runner who was 
'sweeping' the course.
At that stage I'd given up on my
 11 hour target and I relaxed and joined them until the finish. I 
finally finished in 12 hours and 10 minutes.
So what 
lessons did I learn from this race? Stinging nettle stings sting for 
about 7 hours after you get stung. Cows can be quite scary. Watching 
YouTube videos is probably not the best way to learn the art of 
navigation. People are very helpful to sweaty, bedraggled looking 
runners. However if it's a single woman in the middle of a field it does
 help to approach slowly, keep your hands in plain sight and explain what you want as you approach ... they tended to look a bit nervous and in my stage of exhaustion the last thing I needed was them bolting off like a skittish deer. Oh, and most importantly Breaston is actually pronounced 
BrEEston. Getting that pronounciation right can save you loads of 
confused looks, not to mention that saying Breaston to a single woman 
with only a little hamster of a dog in the middle of a field did seem to
 make her nervous.
I had a great time on 
this race. I like to think that I have a good sense of humour and I 
always try to laugh at things and sometimes that helped ... also falling
 to the ground and bursting into tears of despair in front of a herd of 
cows might start giving them ideas that we are weak (from what I saw it 
looks like some cows are planning a revolution soon so all signs of 
human weakness must be hidden otherwise they will get bolder).
The
 race was very well organised and the fact that I got lost is all my own
 fault. Whenever I was pointed in the right direction I inevitably found
 some blue Asics tape or a yellow arrow left by the organising team. The
 people organising and helping out at the race were extremely friendly 
and cheerful. And the goodie bag was really good value for money!
I
 will definitely be back next year ... and I'll actually know how to 
navigate ... or I'll have bought a GPS to which I can download the route
 ... after all, who needs to see the surrounding scenery when you can 
just stare at a small arrow on your wrist :-)
