Box Hill Ballbuster Race Report

The Ballbuster is a biannual event held in Tadworth, Surrey. The race starts and finishes atop Box Hill, which was used as part of the Olympic Road Race in the London 2012 Olympics.

I decided to enter the event as it looked a genuine challenge and, aside from various marathons, there isn’t much locally that offers an opportunity to really test myself.

As an added incentive the Ballbuster serves as a potential qualification race for the Long Distance Duathlon Age Group World Championships, held annually in Zofingen, Switzerland. The only criterion is to finish within 115% of the winner of your age group’s time.  For example, if the winner finishes in 3 hours, I’d need to finish within 3 hours 27 minutes. (3 hours = 180 minutes. 180 *1.15 = 207. 207 minutes = 3 hours 27 minutes.)

Why not try and qualify for the World Championships in Switzerland? Might as well. That’s what I would try to do.

As with every achievement in life, there would be a number of obstacles in the way.

First, the Ballbuster is a runner’s race. The guys on the podium take approx. 45 minutes for each run, and 1:05-1:10 for the bike. In most duathlons (and triathlons), you’d expect the bike leg to be longer than the run, sometimes as much as twice the duration. Before the race has begun I am at a disadvantage as the bike is my strength and there isn’t much distance to hammer that advantage home. No matter.

Second, the Ballbuster is incredibly hilly. Each eight-mile lap (of which there are five) consists of 700 feet of climbing (and descending). That’s 213 metres of climbing over 13km, each lap. My weight fluctuates between 82-85kg. The top guys will weigh 15-20kg less than me. No mind.

Third, I have zero experience with long distance duathlon. In February I did a 10k/40k/5k, on rolling but fairly flat terrain, which is the closest I have come to doing anything even remotely similar to the Ballbuster. In reality, that race is nothing compared to the Ballbuster!

Ideally, the course would be two short runs, with a long flat ride sandwiched between. I could not have picked a less ideal course. Regardless I decided to have a go and see what happens.

Can anybody else see the potential pitfalls with this ?

Race Day

Nothing can replicate the feeling of race day. There’s so much excitement, adrenaline, and nervous energy pent up that the simplest of tasks become difficult. I prepared everything the night before: all kit laid out, bike in the car, premade breakfast, etc.

One thing I didn’t prepare was my body to sleep. In hindsight I spent too much time on screens (I cycled to and from Greenwich, and only got home around 6:30pm) after finishing pre-race prep. The screen time meant I couldn’t switch off, and I even ended up writing some creative writing ideas in my notebook at 11pm when I should’ve been deep in a REM cycle (5.45am alarm soon comes around).

I woke up at 3am to go to the loo. I also decided this would be an ideal opportunity to brush my teeth and eat rice pudding. Other than what felt like a thirty-minute nap, barely shut my eyes after. Around 4.30am a nonsensical line of poetry wouldn’t leave me alone, so I got out of bed and started to write downstairs at the dining table. This in-between conscious state actually proved quite prolific – I might (read: never) drag myself out of bed at a similar time in future!

Time soon passed and it was time to take everything to the car, and head to the race. By this point I had transitioned into “race mode” and could start to concentrate on what I needed to do AKA get my head in the game. Music helps for this.

A lot happened between arriving at Box Hill and the beginning of the race but none of it is worth writing about.

The event is chip timed so you’re not penalised for starting farther back. I made no attempt to join the whippets at the very front, and happily joined the queue a few minutes after the first guys had left.

At 8.08am I crossed the timing mat and started the first of five Box Hill laps. To put how fast the front guys are into context, they would’ve been a mile and half up the road before I even started. Exceptional athletes!

The Ballbuster is notorious for fast starters which makes absolutely no sense! A quick scour of the results will show how the vast majority of participants slow down drastically on their second run. Time cannot be gained at the beginning of the race, only lost.

What’s the plan then? Basically, keep the average pace in the 7:45/mile region, whilst ensuring my heart rate stayed in zone 3 (160-169bpm) which is the heart rate zone I would (will?) race a marathon in, at least for the first three hours. As for the hills, as long as my HR didn’t go beyond 175bpm, I would be happy.

The start of the run, and each loop thereafter, is pretty nondescript. Thickets block the incredible views and the road looks like any other. I catch up with a few overkeen runners, some breathing heavily, and think to myself “it’s going to be a long day if they don’t sort themselves out sharpish!”, and settle into a rhythm. Stronger runners pass me, I pass a few others and things generally continue in this manner throughout the rest of the run. My HR sits comfortably in the 160 range, dropping below 160 on descents, and rarely troubling the 170s. I consumed one SIS gel around 30 minutes into the run. Oh and I dropped a cup of water at the only aid station!

With just under two miles (3km) until the end of the lap, there’s a ninety-degree left hand turn to begin the ascent of Box Hill. Now the hill isn’t particularly steep – approximately 5% – but it’s long: 15 minutes on foot or half that on the bike. Get your pacing wrong at the bottom and you’ll be crawling – or worse, walking! – before reaching the top. As I found last weekend at Beachy Head, I am a relatively strong climber, and I relished the fact that everybody around me was suffering whilst I picked people off one by one, and kept an eye on my current HR reading on my watch.

Average HR for the first run: 163bpm, max 178bpm (got a little excited entering the field for transition!). My immediate thought at the top of Box Hill was “job done” – the first of five laps successfully negotiated. (Run 1 – 1:02:18. 7:47/mile. I later worked out I had the 146^th fastest first run.) Now for the bike.

Total time for T1: 1:00.  Not rapid but not slow, probably above average. I left a bitesize flapjack in my helmet and ate it in T1.

I relish racing because there’s a competitive streak in me that lives for events like these, especially when there are so many others there for the taking, which the majority of people are, on the bike. They might as well be gold coins in a video game.

Although the bike is three hilly laps I set off hard as to do anything but would be a mistake. I ride frequently enough now to have a ‘feel’ for how hard I’m riding. It’s kinda intuitive. You just know how hard certain efforts are, and how long you can sustain them for in any given situation. It’s a pretty cool thing, thinking about it.

Starting the bike pretty much in the middle of the race (as in there were roughly half in front, half behind) meant there was a serious amount of traffic. In theory there should always be a gap of 10 metres between bikes but, in reality, that is improbable and unrealistic. I don’t know if anybody was penalised for drafting.

The first couple of miles are on gently rolling hills, heading east with the wind, on wide enough roads, if not a little rutted in places. There are then five left hand turns – a few pretty sharp with slippery/gravelly surfaces to contend with before reaching the foot of Box Hill. I found myself stuck in a number of situations, wanting to pass the cyclist in front but not willing to overtake without being able to see what’s coming ahead, or around the corner. Incredibly there were some lunatics willing to overtake on blind bends of single-track roads! There’s no doubting that they’d have been in hospital had a car come around the corner (which they did semi-frequently). I, for hopefully obvious reasons, wasn’t willing to take that risk.

As the road widened, opportunities to pass presented themselves and I took them, the cyclists in my vicinity gradually reducing to just a few. I hit the foot of Box Hill and quickly found the right gear to spin up at a high cadence, knowing there were two more of these to come on the bike and one on foot. As with the run, I passed more people, my smooth pedalling juxtaposed against their painful grinding made me feel as if I was moving a lot faster. I reached the top, then pressed ‘lap’ when we passed transition (24:10, just under 20mph).

The second lap was much the same as the first but with fewer cyclists around. One thing that did cause alarm was my left tri bar coming loose, moving around in its holder, threatening to fall off! I had to fold it in place manually and just hope for the best. (I managed to temporarily fix it by putting a glove over the end of both bars which provided some kind of security.) Second lap: 25:01. Slower than I’d like but understandably so with the tri bar issue. I took another gel during this lap.

The third and final lap, again was similar, though I debated how hard I should push. This is where my lack of experience shows: an old pro would know exactly how much he could get away with. I just tried to keep the pace the same. Third lap: 25:09. I took another gel during this lap.

The three ascents of Box Hill were: 7:28, 7:32, and 7:22. Pretty consistent! Bike time: 1:14:20. Average speed 18.9mph. 17th.

Off the bike and into the second transition, I almost got lost, running down the wrong aisle, though it was the back end of the aisle I was supposed to run down, and I could just grab my stuff from under the metal frame – no problem. My watch, as I changed from cycling to running, said “battery low”, so I took the Garmin cycling computer just in case it died. I also grabbed another gel, which I’d take roughly half way around the lap.

Total time for T2: 0:54. Good.

Out onto the run and at this point I know I am on my way to the finish line, which is incidentally just around the corner from where I’ve just left…

My legs felt fine, if not a little tired(!), and the pace seemed good. My sole focus on the second run was to run faster than the first run and, as the miles ticked away, I realised I was running faster but, crucially, I didn’t feel as if the effort I was exerting was unsustainable. It felt comfortable but I knew I did not have another gear to move into. It felt as if I was in third gear but couldn’t change into fourth let alone fifth. I was okay with that though. Just don’t slow down.

At the aid station I drank a cup of water and poured another over myself. Shortly after I opened the zip of my trisuit and scarred the locals with my bare chest (in November!) to reduce the chance of overheating. I don’t know if it was related but not long after I got stung/bitten by some kind of insect!

I reached the foot of Box Hill for the final time and after a quick joke with a marshall – it’s all downhill from here, isn’t it? – begun the ascent. I had been passed by a handful of others over the course of the lap, going past a couple of others myself, but now I could see one or two up the road, like dangling carrots egging me on. I managed to pass one, and a couple of walkers and came home in 3:19:37, the final run 59:34, average pace 7:46/mile (it’s a slightly shorter lap). 74th fastest. (Notice how I ran the runs at almost the same speed but the first run was 146/330ish, and the second 74/330ish. Pacing!)

I've somehow managed to make an extraordinary view look average

Thoughts/Reflections

I’m happy to have completed the Ballbuster. The amount I ache suggests I put a lot of effort into the race and I probably couldn’t have gone much faster. I definitely couldn’t on the second lap, though how much faster I could’ve gone on the first run and the bike remains to be seen. It’s impossible to say and, who knows, I could’ve pushed fractionally more on either and ended up bonking on the second run, posting a 3 hours 20+ minutes.

My ability to maintain a good pace on the second run, after a hard 8 mile run followed by a harder 24 mile bike, gives me confidence that I could run a decent marathon – possibly as quick as 3:15 given a decent training cycle. That has certainly given me an impetus to run more, which is desperately needed at the moment.

Cycling, as always, is a strong point of mine. If I’m going to do well in future technical races I simply have to recce the course and practice my cornering – it’s woeful. In terms of power and strength, couldn’t be happier.

What’s next?

Quick turnaround for the Poppy Half next weekend. I ran it in 1:38:02 last year and I am hoping to beat that, and my Hastings HM PB of 1:34:48. I’ll put my neck on the line and say I think I can run it faster than 1:33. Aim high!