Hot weather running or not running weather?

I'm not sure why running a 23km trail race with 700 metres of climbing ever seemed like a good idea. But on race day when it reached at least 35 degrees (Celsius) I wondered what I'd signed up for.

It's a tough course, but what put it right up there among my hardest races ever, was the heat last Sunday (February 6). Officially it was at least 35 degrees but unofficial reports say parts of the course reached 43 degrees (the temperature claims keep getting higher as the days go on - by Christmas I'm sure I'll be swearing it was actually 60 degrees). Whatever the temperature was, imagine running up stairs in a sauna and you start to get the picture. Two people were helicoptered off the course with heat exhaustion and dehydration while others pulled out because of the heat. My favourite quote came from the pre-race favourite (and course record-holder): "I got overheated and started to feel funny in the head."

He pulled out.
I wanted to pull out too when I also started to feel funny in the head, but pulling out of a trail race isn’t easy unless you’re in a bad enough state to require assistance. You can't just call a cab. (I did ponder throwing myself off one of the cliffs so I could sustain an injury severe enough to get me choppered out but chickened out due to my low pain threshold.)

If you’ve ever raced in the heat you might be interested in a dewpoint calculation runners can use to see if it's safe to race. I first read about it in the Girl In Motion blog (she found the information from a meteorologist on a Runner’s World forum):

"Temp+dewpoint of 90-100 is probably ideal, but anything below 130 is pretty much OK to go for the fast time…maybe 120 for longer distances…say 1/2 marathon or above. Between 130-150 will see a gradual slowdown in pace, and if it’s above 150, forget pace altogether and just focus on finishing."

I did the calculations for last Sunday and the figure was 159 if it were 35 degrees and 173 if it were 43 degrees. (Remember to convert from Celsius to Fahrenheit if you try the formula.)
No wonder we were all feeling funny in the head.
Apart from the difficulty of pulling out, the other reason I didn’t quit was because of a man named Grant. He was Tail-End Charlie and since I was often at the back of the race I spent a lot of time with him. He was unfailingly cheerful and laden with extra water and food for anyone who needed it. (I didn’t need any of it, having decided to carry two litres of Replace drink and extra gels when I saw the weather forecast. What my husband thought was overkill at 10am, seemed incredibly sensible by midday.)
Grant’s gentle encouragement kept me going. He didn’t require me to talk (which was fortunate as I  lost the ability to speak early on in the race). He talked enough for both of us, pointing out how far we’d come, the stunning views and the walkers we would overtake if we just kept moving (walkers started ahead of us). Professor Tim Noakes, you might be interested to know that your Central Governor (see Blaming my running woes on my Central Governor) can be beat by a secret weapon named Grant. Take that Bob.
Thank you Grant – you're a legend.