Racing the dying light

An unexpected half marathon brings and unexpected result

I thought I was done with racing for 2025, but then Runner’s World magazine dropped me a line and asked me if I could run Race The Light, a trail half marathon not far from my home in Devon, and write a race report for them. Well, I was feeling fit, I was free that day, so why not? I mean, I usually pay to run these races - and here I was being paid to do one.

I’d run the summer version of Race the Light twice before - which is called Race The Tide - and so I knew the basic course (although the winter version is slightly different). As it wasn’t in my plans until recently, it felt like a bonus race, with no pressure on the outcome, so I set off in my car that morning with no feeling of pressure. I could just enjoy a hard run in the wind and mud, along the coast path. No stress.

The whole day before the race, it had poured and poured. I’d seen pictures of this race in previous years and it could get seriously muddy. As we lined up at the start, the race director, a no-nonsense northerner called Mark, stepped up to do his pre-race announcements.

“It’s seriously muddy out there,” he said. “And it’s seriously windy. So watch yourselves. Also, a tree came down in the night and is blocking the course, but you’ll work it out. Climb over it, or under it, or something. I’m not going to cancel the race because there’s a fallen tree in the way.”

He seemed annoyed at the suggestion, even though no one was suggesting it. And so, with that, in a brief break in the blustery rain, we set off.

I started at what I thought was a brisk pace, but nothing silly, and a kilometre in I found myself in fifth place. Easy does it, tiger, I thought, worrying that I was overdoing it. And then I promptly moved into fourth place.