As most of my running for the last 15 years has been on the quiet fells and trails of Derbyshire, Wales and the Lake District, I decided that I ought to get some practice of running amongst 35,000 other runners... while getting shouted at by a large crowd!  All my ultras to date have been off road -  mountainous runs around the French Alps, the Pyrenees, Reunion Island and in the Sahara and Atacama deserts – none of them noted of noisy crowds or a cast of thousands! 

To qualify for the 2011 Comrades, it was necessary to run a sub-5hr IAAF-certified road marathon within the 12 months prior to May’s race, so I duly applied for London without much hope of getting a place.  I was pleased and surprised when my acceptance envelope dropped through the letterbox, but then decided it was too much of a risk waiting until April to qualify -  in case of injury or illness.

Some friends were running the Marrakech half marathon in January, and as Morocco was as easy and cheap to get to as anywhere else, I used that as my qualifying marathon.  I’d never been to Marrakech before and would thoroughly recommend it for a race-weekend away – it’s well-organised, with plenty of drink and dates (!) available en route, and the support was fantastic.  On the downside, it made me realise what a long way 26miles was on road, and was a painful reminder  of road marathons back in my twenties.   Nothing that a hamman and massage couldn’t sort out though!

You may, at this stage, be wondering why I decided to go back to road running (especially in my ‘40s) - I think the answer is that I just wanted a change.  I’d managed to complete the Bob Graham Round last year, and after running in the Pyrenean Raid, I needed a different challenge with different training.  The Comrades is considered one of the world’s ‘must-do’ road ultras, so I decided to give it a go.

And so to London – and I have to admit that running this famous Marathon again was a great experience, both in terms of the event itself and for Comrades ‘acclimatisation’.  It was hot, noisy and crowded... and inspirational.  With 35,000 runners of all shapes and sizes jostling for position, and thousands more shouting and cheering from every inch of pavement, it’s a non-stop assault on the senses.   A long way from a solo run on the moors, admittedly, but no less satisfying in its own way.

Next stop, Durban.

Amanda