The Real Relay is a brilliant concept – amateur runners following the route of the pompous Olympic torch relay but actually running all the way carrying a single GPS tracked baton instead of driving round much of it in a coach like the torch. It was already getting very popular by the time I’d hear about it from Matt and I only managed to get a stage by sitting in front of my computer pressing refresh every minute for an hour. The 20 stages the organisers made available that morning went in less than 5 minutes. Instead of charging for the event Endurancelife asked that we all make a £10 donation to the charity CHICKS who offer respite breaks to disadvantaged children in the UK.

Anyway I bagged the Crowmarsh Gifford to Henley stage – 10 miles with a big hill. Matt was to run the first few miles including the hill then I’d take over for the remaining 7 odd miles. The obvious route was down the busy A road but we didn’t fancy that, particularly as we were supposed to run at around 5pm Thursday when the traffic would be bad. I drafted a route and we did a recce on the mountain bikes, up the hill via a quiet lane to Nuffield then after Nettlebed down a very muddy bridleway then the Old Bix Road to the outskirts of Henley where pavement began. Still a couple of miles here and there along the A road but there were paths for part of that.

Come the day the online tracker and facebook page suggested the baton was about 90 minutes behind schedule. This had always been a possibility – look at it another way, over 5,000 miles and 540 runners so far yet only 90 minutes off target – but did mean rearranging the handover times. Various emails and texts later and we’d agreed Matt and I would be at Crowmarsh Gifford roundabout at 5:30pm.

As I drove out to Henley where I planned to leave the car it started spotting with rain. By the time I arrived it was a steady downpour and sitting in the car for 5 minutes hoping it would blow over just seemed to make it worse. I accepted my wet fate and got the bike out the car only to hear a crash behind me. I turned to witness a woman reversing her Range Rover out of a nearby space while yapping into her mobile phone still propelling a shopping trolley along broadside across the rear of her vehicle, it looked like it was about to tip over so I darted over to warn her but then some kid, presumably the dimwit’s son, appeared and risked getting squashed while whisking it out the way. I’m not even sure she knew any of this happened! I resolved to cycle cautiously around here.

An hour and a thorough soaking later I arrived at Crowmarsh Gifford roundabout and pushed the bike into a bus shelter. I checked my phone to find a voice message from Matt which I couldn’t really decipher what with the noise of traffic streaming past but seemed to end with a reassurance he’d be there on time. A lady pulled up in a car over the road and beckoned me over and asked if I was Nik, she had bought the children to collect another Nick who was due to hand over to me. She took a call which was Nick saying he was at the bridge so I knew he was due in a few minutes. No Matt still but I’d always been aware I might end up running the whole thing without him and wasn’t going to let it be a problem. I locked the bike, necked a gel and some water, decided I’d run in my cycling stuff rather than risk freezing in my vest, and took the baton from a happy but sodden Nick at 5:41 and set off alone.

After 5 minutes my feet were as wet as they could be, the side of the A road was awash and I couldn’t step out of the gutter due to the traffic. Turning into the quiet road to Nuffield was a relief and at the start of the climb Matt appeared on his bike. I pointed out he was a bit late now!

The climb, about 160 metres over a couple of miles, went by pretty painlessly. Nattering to Matt, who cycled alongside, stopped me running too fast. Come the top of the hill in Nuffield, a bit over 3 miles, I’d averaged 10:30 minute miles which I was fairly certain I could reduce to sub 10 minute miles by Henley (10 minute miles being the average time allowance for the relay). I had to rejoin the main road to Nettlebed at 4 miles but there was a bit of roadside path most of the way and even the traffic had it’s good side as people hooted goodwill – maybe they knew what I was at or maybe they just thought a nutter running in the pouring rain with a big stick flying a Union Jack must be worth a toot.

I’d decided on the ride over to abandon the bridleway plan – I knew I’d end up weighed down with feet of mud and I was bound to loose time. I’d spotted path most, but not all, the way down the A road to Bix but weather and lack of maintenance meant much of it was obstructed by low hanging trees and overgrown bushes. I did my best to keep my pace, now around 9:30 minute miles, as I danced back and forth into the gutter while Matt cycled in the road behind so I felt fairly safe from traffic. This all sounds miserable but I was thoroughly enjoying myself!

A few hundred metres before Bix there was no path and the road was narrow, Matt had gone on ahead, and a huge puddle loomed ahead which may possibly have hidden a broken drain cover so I skipped right out into the road round it and back relying on my ears to warn me of traffic. I tweaked my calf here which pained me a bit latter but no serious damage. Then I left the main road to run through Bix and down the steep and quiet old road with it’s crap surface, Matt joined me running for a bit but then turned back to collect his bike. I suggested he just lock it up somewhere and run into Henley with me then I’d drop him off when driving back.

The Fairmile into Henley has a good path either side and Matt joined me here to run, I even let him have a go with the baton but this was more because carrying the thing was making my arms ache than any forgiveness for his tardiness. Half a mile to go and he seemed to be speeding up just as my legs were whispering ‘almost there’ so I took it back and soon after we were at the arranged rendezvous in the middle of Henley Bridge at 7:21, nicely on time but with no sign of Philip to take the baton. I stood in the middle of the bridge waving the baton while Matt jogged over to the other side to see if he was maybe over there.

Matt returned empty handed but moments later a fit looking runner appeared from Henley direction, he’d been expecting us to appear along the High Street whereas we had reached the bridge via Thameside. I handed my camera phone to Matt who did a fine job with it considering the dull weather and the grinning fool in the cycling kit. Soon enough Philip was on his way to make good time to Bisham Abbey!

I drove a drenched Matt and his bike back to Crowmarsh where I was pleased to see my Marin was waiting safely in the bus shelter. It wasn’t till I got home that I realised just how knackered I was. The run took 1hr 40m for 10.4 miles, I would have been a bit quicker in better conditions I think but at least I didn’t lose any more time. A great event to have a small part of and now I keep finding myself drawn to the online tracking page to see where he baton has got to!