When the concept of a new race from England and Wales was first conceived it was, as all good ideas are, in a pub.
After a regular weekly run, a group of male runners got chatting to some female Welsh singers over a pint - and the idea was born.
With English-Welsh relations firmly cemented, the idea summarised as to leave London with a team of twelve runners and relay throughout the night to arrive in Cardiff some 24 hours later.
Pitching the idea to a group of runners was the first challenge.
The concept was greeted with a mixture of enthusiasm and condemnation. Some were quick to point out the obvious challenges of such a race - the pain, the lonely night running across country hills and the possibility of getting lost.
Others, however, could visualise the momentous achievement of crossing the over the whole country to the finish line in Cardiff; Arriving joyously as a team having completed an event unlike any other.
After a host of long nights and lost hours of planning, the race came to fruition some six months later.
On a cold drizzly morning on May 29, two teams gathered on a damp Gunnersbury Park at 11.00am.
One was a team of twelve army boys from England’s finest Fusiliers, the other a mixed team of nine from the London City Hash House Harriers based in central London.
The two teams shook hands and joked about who would demolish the other side. Both teams nervously avoided thinking about quite how hard the challenge that lay before them might be.
At 11.30am route descriptions and maps were handed out. The race comprised of a 1.5-mile team lap to start the race and a 2-mile team leg to finish, interceded with 24 individual legs running back to back throughout the night.
And to deprive everyone of more sleep, these legs were separated by a 1-mile night run around a mountaintop at the halfway point for all members of both teams.
Three hours into the race and by leg 3 both teams had got lost - with one 6.4-mile leg extending to 10.2 miles!
It began to dawn on the teams that this race wasn't just about running fast. The winner it proved would be decided not on pure speed but a mix of speed, navigation and logistics.
The drizzle dried up and the sun peaked through. Clouds parted to allow beams of sweat and dehydration to attack those poor souls powering through the county pot holed miles.
Teams waited anxiously at checkpoints for their lonely tired teammate to arrive. A runner with rubber legs collapsing underneath would appear to cheers and clapping from teammates.
The exhausted runner would hand over their GPS tracking and radio to the next runner. Amid more cheers and shouting the next team mate would be unleashed to charge off into the distance.
Water and food would be given to the exhausted athlete as he was dragged aboard the parked transport and the team would drive off to the next checkpoint beeping at their runner as they drove past.
The checkpoint would then be left empty. The other team scouring the distant road in search of their team mate. Had they got lost or been injured?
A cry of excitement arose as their partner was spotted, a speck in the distance. Minutes later they arrived, exhausted and hot.
Time had been gained on the other team though, they were reeling them back in, leg by leg.
Jumping ahead by 8 hours we had made it to "central" England near Swindon. Despite being only two days after a full moon, sadly no light peered through the thick clouds as the wind scurried them along towards eastern shores.
At the checkpoint where each team runs a team night leg waited two mini buses and three cars, parked at nearly 1,000 feet on the hilltop that once was home to medieval forts.
Somewhere around midnight a lone bobbing light appears out of the gloom. More head torches are switched on and the first team disappear as a long thin snake of bobbing lights work its way up the black hillside. Within 10 minutes the snake returns, with somewhat less energy and far less enthusiasm! The hill had sucked the energy from their legs. With 13 hrs to go and 95 miles to cover they weren't even past half way.
The race was infinitelyharder than many had given it credit for. Staying awake for 24 hours, navigating to checkpoints both on foot and in vehicles, running alone at night, getting lost were challenges faces by all.
Every runner completed five legs - three of those with their friends and two alone. Many team members dragged their bodies over 30 miles of fields, tracks, roads and towns.
The first ever London Cardiff 24 race was overall a success. Both teams completed the course. Everyone was safe with no injuries other than extreme tiredness, sore muscles and a few blisters. The course was for the most part well documented. There was however some lessons to be learned for next year’s event - route instructions need to be much more detailed with landmarks highlighted. When individuals got lost (which they did many times on both teams) it was very difficult to navigate back to the trail.
The feedback from the teams was fantastic - many suggestions for improvements, many compliments for compiling the event; many happily expressed their hate towards that seed of an idea which had caused so much pain and misery.
This was the first event of its kind in the UK. The Army team finished in 23hours and 58 minutes and the London City Hash runners finished it in 29hr 47min.
The race is a team challenge quite unlike anything else. I can honestly say as part of a team which took nearly 30 hours to complete it, it's one massive achievement. How many of you can say you were part of a team which ran from London to Cardiff non-stop?
Details of this year’s event and next year’s event can be found at LondonCardiff24.co.uk. Entries are open soon. Think you know tough???
