RACE
PHOTOGRAPHS: RED BULL. ILL
USTRATIONS: ANDREA MANZATI
SEPTEMBER 2019 RUNNERSWORLD.COM/UK 089RED BULL QUICKSAND
Bear crawl
‘A full-body move with a
focus on core and quads.’
Get into ‘bear position’,
weight equal between
hands and feet. With
your legs bent, back flat
and bum low, go forward
with your opposing arm
and leg. If your legs don’t
burn your bum is too
high. Do 5 × 30 secs.Calf raise
‘Builds your lower-leg
resilience for pushing
off from the soft sand.’
Stand with feet under
your hips. Raise yourself
up onto your toes, then
slowly lower (two secs
each direction). Make
this harder by holding
weights in each hand.
Do three sets of 15.Box jumps
‘Get the explosive energy
needed on the dunes.’
Start with a knee-height
box. Stand facing the
box (about two shoe
spaces away) and squat.
Jump onto the box
using your arms for
propulsion. Land with
flat feet, then step down.
Do five sets of 15.Walking lunge
‘Simulate the terrain.’
Take a big stride,so you
raise onto the toes of
your back leg. Bend your
knees and drop down.
Drive up to stand tall.
Step the opposite leg
forward and repeat in a
walking motion. Do two
mins, building to five.Because many runners seem to be
opting to run barefoot I follow suit.
However, the expressions on the
faces of every finisher from the first
few waves suggests that, shoes or
not, this is going to be quite hard.
The starting horn sounds and
I’m away, storming down the first
straight. There’s just one problem –
I don’t seem to be going anywhere.
In all of five seconds the ‘uniquely
brutal’ aspect of running on soft sand
has become all too apparent.
I round a couple of bends – lungs
on fire – and reach the bottom of
the first obstacle: a dune that seems
10 times bigger now that I’m at the
foot of it. A clamber on all fours just
about gets me to the summit, before
I career down the other side. Having
covered no more than 50 metres,
I am, to use a technical running
phrase, knackered. However, my
decision to run on sand sans shoes
was a good one, partly because it’s
easier to get purchase on the dunes.
After another castle, next up is
an 80-metre stretch and a chance to
get my heart rate down from the
thousands. I latch on to the heels of
the chap in front and we make slow
progress to the other end of the
course, which then cuts back on
itself and coughs up another dune.
This one is smaller and more densely
packed, so I glide over it. ‘I’m getting
the hang of this,’ I almost think,
before the sight of the biggest castle
of the race – eight metres high – turns
my legs, once more, to jelly. Safely, if
slowly, over, I round another bend and
cross the line, oh so delighted at the
prospect of having to do it all again.
Oddly enough, though, the second
lap feels a bit more manageable. The
dunes still suck the strength out of
my legs but there are no more nasty
surprises. I struggle to the top of thefinal castle – buoyed by sympathetic
cheers from fellow runners and
confused beach-goers – round the
last bend and collapse across the
line. Top half and through to the
semi-final. Just.
With two hours until the next
round, I’m grateful for the chance to
forget as much as I can about just
how hard that was. Retreating to a
shady spot by the sea wall, I guzzle
a Red Bull in the hope that it either
(a) gives me wings or (b) turns me
into the best sand-based mile runner
the world has ever seen.
Two minutes into the next round,
though, as I sprint at just above
walking pace down the long, rolling
straight once more, it’s clear neither
eventuality has come to pass. This
wave, naturally, features a higher
calibre of runner and a last-place
finish feels possible. Spurred on by
pride and caffeine, I overtake a few
stragglers. The dunes have crumbled
slightly, but the relentless heat makes
up for any loss of difficulty, and the
final lap is run in slow motion. Finally,
the last castle is looming over me and
it takes every ounce of my sun-
sapped strength to make it the top.
Then I’m wheezing down the home
straight and I find myself battling it
out with two chaps either side of me.
Ha! I think, just where I want them- before they breeze ahead and I
stumble across the line to claim a
heroic 40th-place finish.
The race certainly lived up to its
selling point of being tough as hell,
but a noncompetitive atmosphere
and the seaside location add to its
appeal. Sunburned and slightly
delirious, I collect my satisfyingly
chunky medal and seek out a
blissfully hard patch of pavement.
To run the next Red Bull Quicksand,
sign up at redbull.com/gb-en/events
Personal trainer Jo Hancock’s
four moves for sand successTR AIN FOR
THE TERR AIN
DOWN BUT NOT OUT
Effective descents
were key to making
it to the next roundJo is a trainer at Everyone Active (everyoneactive.com)