Scott Neil

Fastest in Bermuda Triangle Challenge

(half-marathon version)

You may want to skip the first two-thirds of this article as it is mostly a description of the back of Cal Steede's running vest as viewed from a distance.

Unlike Steede, I had never before run three races on three consecutive days. But as marathon legend Kathrine Switzer says, runners are always looking for something different and harder than they have done before.

For that reason I attempted the first ever Bermuda Triangle Challenge ¿ racing a mile, a 10K and a half-marathon in the space of 38 hours.

Competing before the hundreds of spectators on Front Street was a memorable moment that would make it worth it if nothing else. I'd run only run one previous mile road race, and that was half-a-lifetime ago in the English market town of Melton Mowbray where I snuck under five minutes.

Last Friday, a snow blizzard striking Bermuda was a more likely prospect than my running anywhere near a five-minute mile.

I'd witnessed the excitement of the KPMG Front Street Mile races in the past few years. Now I had the opportunity to participate.

The Bermuda Triangle Challenge is most likely to catch the imagination of oversees runners because of the special allure of running a competitive street mile in front of hundreds of spectators.

The blur of lights, faces and cheers as we hared up and down the street was indeed unique. Cal Steede had jumped to the front and never slowed, much as I wished he would. At the turnaround at the Longtails statue by Hamilton Docks I was chasing an increasingly distant orange vest. The breeze was in our faces and third-placed Osiame Molefe, from Southampton, was close on my heels.

Far off in the distance the brilliant, bright globe lights that mark the finish line could be seen clearly from the three-quarter mile point, a great idea from the organisers and provided the incentive needed to drive for second place.

Personally, day two was the hardest. Running a fast mile when you do no such training normally means the body is not efficient in getting rid of the built-up lactic acid from the muscles.

Twelve hours on from the exertions of Front Street, the running festival continued at the National Sports Centre where a warm-up aerobics sessions had many of the guest overseas runners stretching away, while superstar elites from the night before were happy to mingle and chat with whoever they met.

There was a dullness to my muscles, I could feel they didn't want another workout. I planned to slip into a steady pace.

Mile one arrived and my digital watch read 6.21, much faster than intended, but even so I can see the distant figure of main rival Steede vanishing from view ahead.

Filled with lactic acid my legs refused to move any faster and instead hit reverse as the undulations took their toll. By the time I'd reached the mountain of Palmetto Road my head was firmly down, gazing at the tarmac barely moving beneath me.

Roadside crowds had gathered, sitting out on folding chairs or against garden walls. Their heartwarming calls of support carried many runners onwards to the next hill at Frog Lane and eventual finish at the stadium.

Drinks, bananas and energy bars were laid on in the marquee that provided shelter from a suddenly cold wind.

Two down and one to go. At this point the Bermuda Triangle Challenge split, with some runners going on to do the full marathon on Sunday, while others opted for the half-marathon.

Steede had amassed a healthy lead over all of us and he went in the marathon. I had opted for the half-marathon.

The next night was mostly sleepless. Perhaps it was the buzz of the race experience, or my body trying to work out what was going on. For anyone who has run a marathon there was a tiredness that resembled the fatigue one feels during the second half of the 26.2 event.

My alarm was set for 6 a.m. Even as it went off I wanted to roll over and sleep on. Walking to the kitchen for breakfast felt like it should have been part of the Challenge. But I couldn't back out now, not having committed. It is a rare runner who doesn't complete what they have started.

Another humid day. Having learned my lesson in yesterday's 10K I sit back on a 7.20 mile pace and it felt okay. I would hit the pain zone if I attempted anything much quicker.

Overseas runners will have delighted at the sights on this course, running past the Botanical Gardens, through the wilderness-fringed South Road around McGall's Hill and the stunning panorama on the downhill to John Smith's Bay where, as you round a bend, the sea glistens in the rays of the rising sun, while a welcome, cooling, sea breeze impregnated with a fine mist of sea spray strokes your face.

Children hold out their hands to "high five" runners around Harrington Sound. On North Shore it becomes clear the dreaded Bermuda Triangle has expanded its appetite from planes and ships to include a few race drink stations. That makes the four miles into a shifting wind all the more challenging.

I pass my closest Challenger rival Gilles Simard of Canada at eight miles and carve out a lead of a minute-and-a-half to become the first Bermuda Triangle Challenger to finish the half-marathon version of the three-race series.

Bermuda's fastest resident miler Chris Estwanik presents my medal. And that's it.

With the other 50-odd competitors who took the Challenge we each share something unique - pain, yes - but also knowing we have tested ourselves to the limit in the newest running adventure in Bermuda.

Thom Gilligan, who dreamt up the idea of the Challenge and took part himself, believes it will now go from strength to strength and attract around 200 competitors next year. I agree, and tip my hat to all who made it happen.