Having spent the weekend preparing and marshalling so that others might run, it seemed only right that on a beautiful March day I should run myself.
As I did, I tried to absorb the experiences of the 2017 Moyleman. From marking the course on Saturday, high above Firle in impenetrable fog, to the assembly at Wallands school and the address by Ash Head, Race Director, to the spectacular start on Landport Bottom, the race itself, my marshalling point at the top of Firle Bostal (which attracted a motley and fascinating band of supporters and interested passers-by), then down to follow the last runners through Firle and Glynde, and arriving at the finish in time to see the last four or five runners finish - it was an extraordinary day. I must record, too, that Mrs R brought her experience of time-keeping at sea in sailing regattas to bear on a land-based event, forming part of Tim’s Time Team. She says that it would be easier if runners carried large sails bearing their numbers.
There’s too much to make sense of. To get a feel for the day, read Ash’s account, and that of Duncan, Assistant Race Director. This race has evolved, from what the computer wallahs call a proof of concept try-out in 2014, to full races in 2015, 2016 and yesterday, Each has been splendid, but today was the best yet, a worthy memorial for Chris Moyle. There’ll be photos and full results soon.
As for the run, knee pain on tarmac, but better on the grass; then I passed the coastguard cottages and ran up the long hill from Hope Gap to Seaford Head, A large helicopter (a Chinook?) passed overhead. When it had gone, there was profound silence and solitude. I ran down Seaford Head towards home; halfway down a man stood, motionless, controlling a drone.