Within the first five miles, several runners in front of me had already taken tumbles, slipping off the side of the path and sprawling, suspended by the rhododendron and the bracken. They clambered back up, assisted by competitors, and continued.
This was only a feature in the first quarter of the Seaview 17, a 20 mile, 1000m ascent trail race from Countisbury to Minehead, mostly following the spectacular south west coast path over the hogs-back cliffs and wooded slopes of Exmoor. The nature of the coast path means that it switches between open track to tiny footpath regularly, adding much excitement to any day out.
To lull us into starting too fast, the first section of the race ran downhill over classic two-person width trail, soily and studded with rocks. We leapt happily downhill, glad that the last few days’ heat was lower than it had been.
Of course I started too fast, and by the time the trail narrowed to a single track through dense coastal trees, roots knotted together through and over the path, I was tired. It is at this point though that you become stuck. I didn’t want to slow down and force those behind me to pass, as this would have ended in more people, possible including me, diving unceremoniously off into the undergrowth, arms first. I kept up the speed till the path became a track, at which point I had to slow down, because it also began to go worryingly uphill.
Finding the right pace is always a good moment as unless you are trying to win, the real point of running is to enjoy yourself. And of course to push yourself, as I would have also enjoyed the scenery by sitting in a pub garden. To enjoy pushing yourself will have to do.
Emerging from the trees to find the first water stop, high above the Bristol Channel was a relieving moment; the next few miles took us along the tracks and fields above the cliffs towards Porlock Weir, descending through more woodland (desperate for shade by this point) to Culbone Church and trying to enjoy the undulating path, surrounded by intense summer greenery, the smell of warm ferns, and the satisfying sound of trainers on cool earth.
Back out of the woods into Porlock Weir, by this point only able to see one or two other runners in front and behind me, we were turned off the road to run along a few hundred metres of stony shingle, which by that point seemed similar to one of the twelve labours of Hercules. The sea on the left was close and inviting, and a brief few miles of flat exercised some different muscles. Ahead now lay the final big climb of the day up Bossington Hill to Selworthy Beacon. Despite being in the open there was no wind.
This near 300-metre climb was taken at what can only be described as an eager walk. A couple on a bench asked me and another runner whether there was an easier way to have fun. I looked at the sea, replied ‘swimming’ and carried on uphill. Somehow it seemed more comforting to watch the sea receding below me that look up at the climb still to come. At the summit, a water station and the knowledge that it’s all downhill from there was encouraging. The Welsh coastline in the distance was clear in the midday sun, and we could see the island further up the Severn Estuary. Wild flowers had accompanied our footsteps and insects were everywhere. This was a good place to be. I met some other runners at this water station; some of them were even smiling.
Five miles of downhill from Selworthy Beacon to Minehead and then along the seafront are an excellent way to finish any race. Suddenly you feel fresher, though my legs disagreed. Back into the woodlands we flew and down some agonising zigzags before Minehead itself came into view and the big white tent of Butlins. I doubt I will ever try and get towards Butlins as desperately as during this race. In the weirder moments of the effects of the heat, I felt my stomach full of water but my mouth dry. I wanted a drink but I didn’t want to swallow it. It was all very confusing.
Crossing the finish line at the Minehead Cricket Club made me very happy. I don’t think ever before have I genuinely thought I couldn’t run another kilometre. After previous races I wanted food; this time I wanted to lie down in the shade, preferably in a paddling pool. For views, and the linear nature of the race (we were bussed to the start) the Seaview is an exceptional journey. Just for the chance to explore part of the south west coast path it would have been worth it, and it certainly feels good to have run the highest cliffs in England.
Feet in the Woods 