This week I have been in pain. Body a temple? Pah. Mine feels like a derelict
mud hut in Outer Mongolia. Every muscle aches and I can't sit down without
at least five cushions. It's all the result of London Rat Race last weekend,
a “sporting feast” aimed at proving that urban fitness doesn't have to focus
on pounding away on a treadmill.
The organiser, Jim Mee, an adventure junkie, turns cities into huge
playgrounds for a day. This was all the six Times journalists, who turned up
at Tower Bridge at 7am last Sunday, knew. We were in the dark about the
cycling, kayaking, running through mazes, scrambling up walls, free running,
abseiling down a stadium, fighting through brambles and getting knee-deep in
mud on assault courses. But the sun was shining and, somehow, my limited
training - a few gentle jogs around the park - carried me through to the end
of a 50-mile circuit from Tower Bridge to Twickenham.
Despite my reservations (mostly blind fear), I haven't had as much fun in
years. It was a two-day race: Saturday was essentially a glorified treasure
hunt through London; Sunday was much more sports-based. I chose to take part
in the Sunday adventures, although the Saturday nightdoughnut-eating
competition was probably much more up my street.
My 600 or so fellow twenty and thirtysomething competitors (in teams of three)
soon split into two groups: geeky types who took it very, very seriously;
and funsters who saw it as an excuse to get a lot of exercise and discover
hidden corners of the city. My team fell into the second group. As we made
it to the finish - after climbing up nets and trying to make our way up a
8ft margarine-covered steel slope - we were delighted to see how many people
crossed the finish line long after we did.
However, now that I have seen the final results, I realise that our (very few)
instances of corner-cutting may have been spotted, as we came 175th, out of
180 teams. Luckily, it's the taking part that counts.
Here's how the activities panned out.
Cycling
Ignoring the fact that we should have started with a half-hour run, my team
set off on our bikes from Tower Bridge at 7.30am, over to Parliament Square,
down two flights of steps (I took a mighty tumble after attempting the first
flight), through Hyde Park, and along 25 miles of cycle path beside the
Grand Union Canal down to Brentford, West London.
We let the Rat Race heavies pass early on and suffered a crash or two as
oncoming traffic and muddy ground got the better of us, but the canal,
stunning weather and barge-owners and fishermen with moustaches made the
whole thing more than worthwhile. By the end the seat felt like a razor
blade, but nothing that a few jumpers fashioned as a cushion couldn't fix.
Mercifully, the next sizeable leg of 19 miles was gentler, although a
refresher of my cycling proficiency test (last taken when I was 6) may have
saved me from a few hairy incidents with oncoming traffic.
Four-legged race
First stop Wormwood Scrubs, West London, for the prison challenge. Wrestling
convicts? Thankfully not. Instead, our legs were tied together and off the
three of us trotted through the nearby woods.
We leapt expertly over stray branches and back through the fields, feeling
smug about the success of our one-two, one-two, one-two rhythm, until Times
Team No 2 leapt at us from behind a tree, leaving us in an inelegant heap
and then snatching the lead. We failed to catch them, although they later
lost a lot of points for abandoning the course three quarters of the way
through and taking the train back to the starting line.
Climbing
We took a little too long to cycle over to the climbing wall, so there was
time for only one of us to give it a go. Lucky old me.
Assault course
The course in Brent Valley involved battling through the undergrowth before
clambering up a brick viaduct. My team-mates had to pull my dead weight up
6ft walls more than once. Part two was wading through chest-high water
carrying your bike above your head. We skipped this because we didn't want
our shiny white trainers to get grubby.
The maze
It was now after 1pm. We were starving - remember that 7.30am start - and
decided that it was more important to have lunch than get lost in Brent
Lodge Park's maze. However, after loudly muttering that we could just leap
over the hedges, a fellow contestant pointed out that “we would only be
cheating ourselves”. Quite right. Kayaking
This was one of our more successful challenges. We avoided falling in as we
boarded our craft and pottered happily up the River Brent from Syon Park,
West London, towards Osterley Park, even managing to get a little lost
(don't ask how) and inadvertently passing all the checkpoints, having
previously decided that we could be bothered to pass only one.
Abseiling
Ah yes, the abseiling. We arrived at the Twickenham rugby stadium, also in
West London, to see tiny people clambering over the edge of the top of the
stadium, free-falling down on ropes, and then staggering away with eyes like
saucers. I climbed up hundreds of stairs, took a quick look, and realised
that no, there was no fun to be had here. My team-mates later tell me that I
mistook terror for marvel; that the view and the experience made it worth
it. Plus, they can tell everyone that they've abseiled off the top of a
295ft (90m) high rugby stadium. I cannot.
Harriet completed the race for Help for Heroes (www.helpforheroes.org.uk
), which supports wounded members of the Armed Forces. To sponsor her: www.justgiving.com/harrietaddison
Essential kit
Inov-8 Race Pro 22 Rucksack, £49.99
Helium multi-sport helmet, £52
18 Nuun rehydration tablets, £13.50 Camp XLH 95 climbing harness, £35
Nomis cycle glove, £24
Eager-Ninja padded cycling shorts, £40
All the kit is available from www.ratraceadventure.com/store
How to enter
The next Rat Race takes place next March, Birmingham. There are similar events
taking place this year across the UK. For details go to www.ratraceadventure.com
or phone 0845 0094365.
Cost
£39 for the Saturday night “Mean Streets”; £109 for both days.
How to do free-running/parkour
Tom Whipple has a lesson on free-running from the master of the sport,
Sébastien Foucan
Sébastien Foucan is bored.
He wants to continue our free-running lesson but I keep delaying. Pacing along
a concrete wall, the founder of the urban sport absentmindedly hops over a
2m-wide gap, landing on a parallel wall.
Someone gasps, and he looks up, confused. “This is nothing!” he says, with a
strong French accent and a wrinkled brow. He points to a 20ft (6m) vertical
drop to his right. “I did not do it there.”
Of course, he is right. For the man who very nearly eluded James Bond in the
spectacular opening sequence of Casino Royale - bouncing off walls and
leaping between cranes - a simple precision jump is hardly a challenge.
We meet on the South Bank in London, in an area of covered concrete set aside
for graffiti and skateboarding. He is here to demonstrate the basics of free
running, a sport (being reliably Gallic, he prefers to call it a
“philosophy”) he helped to create 20 years ago, using a mixture of
gymnastics, climbing and running to move around urban environments.
“First you must imagine that other people's perceptions do not exist,” he
says, seating me on the ground. “It is natural to show off, it is natural to
worry about what people think. They are not there.” He lies flat and rolls
sideways across the ground. A man in a suit and carrying a briefcase walks
past, staring.
Foucan moves like liquid, flowing across the concrete. I am more like a
rockslide, bouncing into walls and edges. It hurts.
He explains how you must learn how to roll before you can jump. “Some people,
they see these leaps and think they can do it, but they do not know the
basics.”
One of those basics is the “tic-tac”, when you run at a wall and bounce
off the side to gain height or change direction, transferring your momentum
as efficiently as possible. I try with my right foot. It feels ridiculous to
run straight at a wall only to jump off, but not as ridiculous as running
straight at it only to crash headfirst.
“It is good you put your hands up,” says Foucan as I pick out the gravel from
my palms. “Alors, I think we move on.” We learn how to land (“imagine I have
put broken glass beneath you”) and how to do a cat leap. This is where you
jump to the side of a wall and hold yourself against it, your knees against
your chest.
It is time to leave and I ask Sébastien why he started the sport. He exhales
and I think he says “bof”.
“Why do you walk?” he says, sliding down stairs. “This is our natural way to
be.” He bounces over a bollard and is gone.
Urban Freeflow runs freerunning classes at the Moberly Sports Centre, West
London, on Monday and Friday evening, £5. Go to
www.urbanfreeflow.com for more details.
Freerunning: Find Your Way by Sébastien Foucan(Michael O'Mara, £9.99)
