I've been running pretty well recently so it was about time I had a nightmare - and this was it. 

On day one I got so caught up with the social nature of the race, the fact it was Malcolm's race, I knew loads of people there, it was Beth's 100th marathon, and I saw a few people I've not run with in ages, that I forgot it was a marathon. Fourteen miles in I'd been so busy chatting and enjoying the scenery I'd not eaten or drunk anything - I sort of realised and shovelled in some gels, but it was too late to avoid the inevitable bonk. Miles 20-24 were bloody horrible, although I picked up a bit towards the end and trudged over the line in 3:49 or thereabouts. 

On day two I was a bit more careful. I didn't really run with anyone so it was much easier to keep an eye to my own pace and remember to eat and drink, and combined with a slightly slower pace, it was a million times more enjoyable. You could see how on a wetter day it would be a super-tough route, dry as it was there were still a couple of ankle deep bits of mud towards the end, but as it was it was just a nice couple of days running (apart from the end of day one). On day two I finished in 3:55, 9th overall for the double runners which was ok I guess. It's also another two towards my 100 marathon Club total, so I'm sitting on 67 now.

This was about as straightforward a race as it gets - 9 laps of an abandoned airfield in Stratford-upon Avon. It started the way these things usually do, with a horrible 5am alarm, an uneventful drive, and a good catch up at the start with Nick, Richard, Gary, Gill, Jason, Steve and a few others. 

The route wasn't as dull as people had made out before, there were a few rusty old planes dotted about the place, and although the track itself was pretty uninspiring, you could see the hills a short way off in the distance so it wasn't all that bad. The only thing that really stood out on the day was the wind, not that it was especially bad, but it was bloody freezing running out and into it, which would've been fine if it hadn't then felt about ten degrees warmer running back in again.

Other than that it was just a normal-ish race, I plodded around in 3:31 or something without any drama, had a little burst of pace near the  end when I though I might accidentally sneak under 3:30, but then decided I couldn't be arsed and just coasted in.

The only disappointing thing was the missed opportunity for them to do the whole event with a Con Air theme:-/

I’ve run track marathons, a marathon in a caravan park, multi-lap trail marathons, and the Preston Guild marathon which is so dismal they only hold it once every 20 years,  so when it comes to bleak races, I know my stuff. This was bleak.

It got grim pretty early, the pre-race toilets being a public block in the car park where I got to enjoy a shit-covered toilet stall surrounded by discarded needles. Which was nice.

I met and chatted with a few of the usual mob (including Beth who was there for marathon number 99, and Maria and Bev who I hadn't seen since HOAH) and then trundled down to the start. The half marathon was starting an hour and a half later and there weren't that many of us standing in the town centre in  the drizzle for the start of the full marathon.

Then, after being told we had to hold our coats/tops open if they were covering our numbers otherwise the chip mats wouldn't read them (really?!) we were off.

I was aiming for about 3:30, quick enough to be a decent workout and get me home in time for the Liverpool game, but slow enough to not do any major damage, and quickly found myself on my own with the speedsters in front of me, and the sub4 mob behind.

I don't really know what to say about the route. I mean, it was fucking awful. Dreary semi-rural lanes became dreary industrial estate, which became dreary housing estates, and then we were done. But then I guess that's Wrexham, so I can't really complain. As the Fawlty Towers episode goes, what was I expecting, herds of wildebeest  sweeping majestically across the plain? The Hanging Gardens of Babylon? To be fair, the weather didn't help, it was raining pretty much the whole time, and that probably contributed slightly to there being about six people out supporting in the first 20 miles.

The only human contact in the first half was from the functional but sad looking marshals (couldn't blame them for that), and a couple of switchbacks where you got to pass the runners in front and then behind as you doubled back.

At about halfway as I was coming out of an industrial estate, a guy caught me up and we fell into the same pace. His name was Michael and we ended up running and chatting together for the rest of the race. We sort of pulled each other along from there. I'm pretty sure the dreariness of the course and the weather would have seen me slow towards the end if I'd been on my own, but he was aiming to get near to 3:30, having set a target of sub3:30 for Manchester in a few weeks so we just kept on at about that pace. We worked our way though the back markers of the half marathon which was a nice distraction, and despite a wrong turn in a marshall-less park and a slightly hilly finish we made our way back into the town centre, crossing the line together in 3:29:01

I picked up my medal (which was nice), and headed back to the car for the mercifully short drive home. As far as positives go, I hit my target time without too much bother and I felt like I'd finally shaken off the virus that made the Railway Ultra so tough which was a big win. Chatting with Michael was cool, and I'll have another friendly face at the Gin Pit double as he's doing that too.

I doubt I'll go back and do it again unless they drastically change the course – although I've no idea if there's anything more interesting to see near Wrexham than what we saw. Given that they pretty much shut the town centre down for the duration of the event, they could easily have had everyone doing laps through the town which might have given it a bit more atmosphere and support.