Thanks to Jonathon Such for passing on the news.  This piece below is borrowed from the Road Runners Club in the UK. My condolences to family and friends.

http://www.roadrunnersclub.org.uk/

We have received the very sad news that Cavin Woodward, RRC Member 3467, passed away very suddenly and unexpectedly on Thursday 26th February, aged 62.

Cavin was one of the greatest British Ultra Distance runners ever. He set a World 100 Mile Track best of 11hrs 38mins 54secs in October 1975. He won the London to Brighton race that year as well as twelve other finishes. He also ran World class times at various othe Ultra distances on the track and on the road.

No other details are available at this time.

Cavin was a long time and loyal RRC member, a lovely man and a very great runner.

The photo shows Cavin at the London end of the London to Brighton route in 1975, the year he won the race in 5hrs 12min 7 secs (52miles 1172 yds). This was one of his 12 Brighton finishes spanning the years 1971 to 1998.

1,254 mile mountain-marathon: Lands End -John O’Groats by Kevin Carr

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On the 12th of July I completed the Lands End-John O’Groats fell/trail run I’d been planning for sometime. (I posted here back in April/May – and received some great advice concernng route choice etc). As the support crew dropped out at late notice I had to run the challenge Mountain-Marathon style.

I should have written this report much earlier but since the run I’ve found it diffcult to motivate myself to even get out of bed somedays – never mind much else, I suppose fatigue comes into it – but I didn’t really feel tired, just plain depressed; perhaps result of an endorphin crash? Anyway I’m starting to feel more like myself again now and have finally got round to writing about the run- the last stage anyway, which I hope explains my delay in posting.

The week following the run I kept waking in cold sweats several times a night, sometimes accompanied with tears, in a confused state with one thought going round my head “I can’t do more, it’s not possible” – somehow I kept thinking that; I hadn’t quite finished and had more to do – or I kept returning to the last week in Scotland.

After that week my sleep became more normal, but I realised I felt really uncomfortable talking about the run, I actively tried to not think about it as it made me feel sick and nervous and scared – it might sound melodramatic but through a mixture of poor choices (made when tired) and over-enthusiastically estimating my abilities I found myself ill equipped to handle the task before me, I dramatically and unnecessarily magnified the levels of stress (emotional and mental and physical) that I had to face, to the extent that the experience was traumatic.

The body perceives little difference between the source of stress, i was already pushing my body close to it’s limits through physical and mental stress, adding emotional stress could and should have been avoided with better planning, however it wasn’t.

The state of over-training/under-performance syndrome and clinical depression share nearly identical signs and symptoms, leading some experts to claim the two are one and the same, essentially a fatigue of the entire organism – a burnt out central-nervous-system, not a localised muscular fatigue, it can take weeks-months even years to overcome; I’ve learnt to read my body quite well and know I am now starting to recover from the ordeal. (external signs such as writing this, and joining a gym to cross-train, regaining fitness are obvious indicators of a better state of mind also).

The first 5 weeks of the run went fine 1000.5 miles – a handful of blisters, very manageable levels of fatigue. The last 8 days was very different, 254 miles over much tougher terrain (wild fell/mountainous terrain). The extra miles per day over tougher terrain was a much tougher effort physically and the mental effort in controlling motivation was greater but this was part of the foreseen challenge, I was looking forward to it and had prepared for it.

The big mistake was food. the run had always been planned as a supported effort – a motorhome following me, a warm bed each night, company and dry clothes etc would all have been nice, but most importantly was being able to control what and when I ate – having meals carefully planned and packed in the van. without the support crew I had to eat what I could find as and when I came across outlets, in England this was manageable but hardly ideal – not many health-food shops along the Pennine way selling protein shakes, electrolytes and healthy oat bars; my diet consisted of chocolate, cola and crisps – with salt sachets taken for electrolytes – it got the job done.

in Scotland, north of Fort William things went very bad. I ran out of cash in Fort William and was severely limited to how much food I could purchase, still I wasn’t going to give up; I calculated a minimal calorie intake I thought I could run on (this called for me to lose almost a lb a day in stored fat, but I knew although uncomfortable it was possible – In training I fast twice a week for upto 24hrs before running 20+mile runs to teach my body to run on fat first and treat sugar as a added bonus if present).

I did the calculations fine, but in the shop (prob’ due to fatigue) I incorrectly divided the weekly amount of calories and bought 1000cals less per day than I needed. I didn’t realise this until 2 days of running/eating later when the rations seemed to be shrinking quite fast. I emptied my sack and counted the calorie of all the food – I had enough for 1,200 cals a day if I could maintain a strong pace. I was using over 7000 a day – this would mean losing over 1.5lbs a day for 5-7 days, a state possible to push through if hiking but very tough if running(walking in a well trained athlete can be done on fuelled from fat stores, so long as the fat is there to burn, running even in highly trained athletes requires some sugar – this would have to be found by destroying body muscle, in this state the brain becomes foggy – it’s preferred fuel of glucose being absent) , I began to worry, to be more efficient I had to slow the pace.

North Scotland called for many river crossings, most of which are impossible if the rivers are in-spate. Early on the fourth day of that week I was half way up a climb to a shoulder I had to pass when I heard lightning, then again – it was getting closer. I should have dropped not to safety, but with the lightning came heavy rain I had to cross a large river on the other side of the pass, If I dropped and waited for the storm to pass the river would be in spate – which might mean camping and waiting for the water to drop or a 15mile tarmac detour to a road bridge and back – both options were impossible on with the food restrictions I had, I had to cross the river that day (there was two more mountains and one other sizeable river to cross that day) I pushed on and up, trying to silence the voice in my head calling me stupid and reckless – climbing in a storm. The rain lasted all day, I didn’t stop to change into waterproofs, keeping a fast pace to generate body heat, after
crossing the river, the next pass was littered with burns that had swelled to the size of fast streams/small rivers, it was a pathless pass and the going was slow; it was too late when I realised I’d not changed into waterproofs in-time. I was cold to the extent of shivering (yes in July) as I ran, I changed layers but for the rest of the day I was physically and mentally slower than normal – having let myself become dangerously wet and cold in windy conditions. My pace was well behind schedule, the ground being more difficult to cover when so wet underfoot; and my shivering cold body reusing to generate the effort I was asking of it. I realised I had to pick up the effort and pushed harder, this just led to repeatedly tripping over obstacles and falling over- landing on boggy marshy land and feeling like I was getting wetter/colder (not possible when wet to the skin and cold to the bone but it definitely felt that way). after one fall I shot up and carried on running ( a force of
habit from fell running, a sprained ankle usually only stiffens if allowed to stiffen, if you can keep running although extremely painful for a minute or two it remains agile and useable). But everything was dizzy, I don’t recall what hit where, I know I was winded from my back slamming on the ground, perhaps my head had whipped back and received a sizeable blow also – I felt panicked and dizzy and scared, I had ran over 1000 miles and fell just twice, this was my 4/5th fall of the day it was disconcerting, which accounts for feeling scared (I was lucky not to have fell on a rocky section) but the dizziness could only be explained by a blow to the head, I hoped it wouldn’t get worse.

It wasn’t all bad – at this point I was running through a Glen surrounded by Munroe’s – the most remote and stunning location I have ever ran in – and I wasn’t just running here – I had ran here! All the way from the tip of the country, I knew I was doing great.

After a few more miles of running, the dizziness still very much hampering my progress, I realised I had to stop being foolish and persisting in a dangerous state, running in over rocky tracks and boggy moorland in a remote area un-supported is dangerous enough, running over the rocks in the rain when dizzy is plain stupid no matter how much stopping might feel like ‘giving up’ I had to call the plug on that days effort at just under a marathon distance had been covered (I needed to cover 40miles).

The unplanned stop meant taking an evening’s meal from the rations, and an unplanned breakfast – I recalculated my rations, My stomach was aching I had food in-front of me and couldn’t touch it.

The next day I woke feeling surprisingly well (the night spent in a Bothy instead of the foil survival blanket I bivi’d in must have helped). I began running, always keeping the food rations and corresponding my pace to this the pace was slow-to slow. On the rations I had to slow the pace to be able to run and not walk, but slowing the pace, meant adding extra days – where again the food would run out there was no way around it, tried as I might to recalculate the problem, it simply wasn’t possible to run.

I kept running along, tears began and kept on streaming down my face, not tears of self pitty but almost of shock and disbelief – I’d trained and planned my life around this event for months (on top of years of running training to be able to even consider a challenge of this scale) and I was only 150 miles from completing my dream. I was about to be forced to stop not because I was injured or ran out of steam, I knew I could finish the run I was so close I could almost taste it but something so stupid as poor arithmetic when tired had made me bring too little food.

I could feasibly walk/crawl to the finish without food – i.e. complete the goal of reaching John O’Groats but that would be a very sad way to end a ‘run’ I had to find a way to run – I needed more fuel.

I knew there was a hotel in around 20 miles, I had to make a tough decision; I had to put the attainment of my goal/dream in someone else’s hands, I had to give up trying to do something impossible by myself and ask for help. After resuming eating as and when my appetite demanded, instead of rationing the fuel I began to run much stronger, still I felt sick.
The whole outcome of months of my life came down to the decision of the owner/manager of a Hotel who I’d never met before, I looked and smelt much worse than any tramp (this Hotel caters for Salmon fisher men- very wealthy posh clientele) just the sight of me in their establishment could have put their backs up.

Fear and confidence come in many different flavours, I had the confidence to stand at one end of the country and begin running with the firm belief I could reach the other end, I overcame my fear of having less than perfect navigation skills to run through the mountains of Scotland yet, walking into a building looking a stranger in the eye and asking for their help was a much scarier prospect – not just because if they said no it meant the end of my challenge, but I lacked the confidence to face rejection/ask for help anyway.

It is incredibly humbling to have to explain you cannot afford to eat, and to place the success of your dream in the hands of a stranger.

I entered the hotel, and explained what i was doing and then “I’m 130miles from completing the first ever LEJOG off-road run, I know I can complete the run but I have very little food and even less cash, without your help I cannot make it”

luckily once realising the run was for a good cause they obliged, and sent me away with a pack so full of food it was too heavy to run with; for a couple of hours i had to walk and eat to lighten the load before a shuffle-jog could be maintained, after more copious eating I had a bag light enough and legs refuelled to a level I could begin running again.

I don’t really think I have the writing skills to convey just how stressful the 20mile run towards that hotel was, and the act of asking for help. I was either running to a heart warming refuel/pitstop or the end of my challenge – I had no way of knowing until I arrived and asked.

Even after this help a couple days later food was again low, 93miles from the finish I had to make one big push – foregoing sleep as much as possible to finish the run before the food finished (there was no more hotels left to pass – the next available food was the finish).

I began running at 7am – finished at 5pm the following day, 93 miles in 34 hours, the single most traumatic day of the event, the final 20 miles having to be on tarmac – my hips and knees screamed in agony (the shock of the shoes being useless after 700+miles of running) i was essentially running barefoot on the road with a heavy 9+kg backpack in the rain, it rained all day. I hadn’t the energy to run fast enough to generate warmth from body-heat, the waterproof I had had started the run one of the best pieces of kit you could buy, after hundreds of miles of abrasion from the rucksack shoulder and chest straps it did next to nothing to repel rain, i only wore it as it provided some warming, much in the way a wetsuit works by trapping water between my skin and the outer layer I hoped that water would be warmed by body-heat, and take heat away from me slower than fresh rainwater on the skin – it probably worked to some extent, but I was cold all day. The pounding on asphalt sending
shockwaves through cold tendons was agonising.

This time it was tears of pain that streamed down my face- at least the rain was so heavy i didn’t have to worry about being embarrassed, a grown man crying in public by passing motorists, it was impossible to notice the tears in the rain.

There was the physical pain and exhaustion, there was again fear though, the previous night around 11pm running over the boggy plateau near knockfin heights (stupidly taking what I thought would be a quick bearing across the plateau I spent hours running around bogs in the twilight – it never really gets dark that far north that time of year), I noticed the sky flash – but there was no rumble or clap, how can you have lightning without noise – it doesn’t happen, again it flashed I looked all around, everything looked still, no sign of lightning no noise then it went again. this time I saw more clearly what had happened, the sky hadn’t flashed brighter, my vision was flashing on and off, making the sky appear like it was flashing on. I didn’t know what would cause your vision to flash on and off, I remember reading karnazes having vision problems in his first 100mile run, although he never mentions what may have caused the problem, i hoped it wasn’t serious, just an electrolyte or
sugar imbalance that could be fixed later; still whatever was causing the problem I sure as hell didn’t know how to treat it, and couldn’t get help where I was, it was caused by my running but stopping in the middle of nowhere wouldn’t help the condition. If I stared intently at the ground just a few metres in-front of me then I could remember the next few foot strikes of terrain i had to negotiate as and when the fake-lightning flashed this went on for about half an hour and then went I felt fine, I’d been popping caffeine and paracetamol tablets that day; had i overdossed? I didn’t think so I counted my empty packets to check it seemed fine (still I’d had trouble counting my calories when stood still in a shop after a couple of coffees and a big lunch in Fort William – cold and tired running with blinking vision in the middle of nowhere, it was quite likely I could have been wrong again) eventually I found a track I would have met much earlier if I’d followed Thurso river
rather than trying to take a direct route across the moor, running along I felt calmer the running was much easier, the track reflecting the moonlight and making running much easier, it was cold but after a while I felt a thick layer of sweat around my mouth and neck which puzzled me, why was I sweating at this effort at this temperature and why localised sweat – if anything I’d expect sweat on my brow not my chin; I wiped the sweat away with the back of my hand and was pretty worried when I realised it was sticky, looking at my hand it was caked in blood – I’d been bleeding from my nose for some time, I was worried, strange as it seems not for my health but at the thought of not completing my goal – I was so single-mindedly focused the challenge seemed more important than myself. Again I had to calm myself- going into shock is dangerous and useless, wastes energy, weakening you very fast. I talked myself down, walked for a while pinching my nose and tilting my head to force a clot.
what would cause my vision to fail and then my nose to bleed, i was sure I hadn’t overdosed – I checked again, I didn’t even have enough drugs to have overdosed. Whatever had caused the problem I didn’t know how to treat it, and I doubt it would get better just by lying down and waiting for help – I walked for a while and lucked out big time by finding an unlocked summer house next to the track which was on a private estate, the estate owners had been kind enough to let hikers/fishermen etc to make use of their building – it was not a Bothy but I decided to rest until the bleeding stopped.

Some 13 hours later I was running along, every now and then I was scared that perhaps I’d damaged something internally – although apart from the actual symptoms of vision and bleeding problems I felt fine (as good as you can feel after 1000miles of running) my main worry was that it would come back, maybe worse – perhaps I would black out, the vision switching off and not switching back on, or the bleeding would become persistent, I had to push the thoughts to the back of my mind. It took every trick I had up my sleeve to ignore both physical and mental pain at the same time, eventually I began realising I kept slowing to a walk and then halting – my legs just wouldn’t listen to me anymore. I refused to walk for any length of time this was a run, I’d prefer to stop wait until I could summon enough drive to push my legs on and run until they refused to be tricked and stopped again, this went on for the 11 out of the last 13miles.

The last two miles I ran in with a real rage, I was hungry to finish the challenge – to silence the voice that kept telling me it was ok to stop and walk or just stop full stop.

P.A.C.E. Trek 2010 Through Germany Begins in 170 Days!

I’m pleased to announce that free registration for school teams to participate in P.A.C.E. Trek 2010 (Germany) is now open. We’ve already had about 2,000 students registered from 11 U.S. states and 2 countries overseas. My hope is that the Germany trek will have more than 25,000 students worldwide involved. For the Alaska trek last spring we had 22,515 students from 10 countries, who logged 118,002 miles during the three-week endeavor. For those who don’t know, I personally run solo across different states and/or countries each year while students worldwide virtually run along with me in teams at their schools – learning about the areas we’re trekking through via my online classroom where they read my daily journals, listen to audio files, and view pictures and videos I take along the way. P.A.C.E. Treks are truly “active learning”!

For P.A.C.E. Trek 2010 I’ll be running a 500-mile (805 km) course through Germany solo between March 8 and March 31, 2010 – beginning in Grafenwöhr and finishing in Landstuhl. This run is by invitation of U.S. Department of Defense Dependents Schools (DoDDS) located in Germany, many of which have participated in past P.A.C.E. Treks. I look forward to giving assemblies at several DoDDS schools along the way.

As usual, anything and everything you’ve ever wanted to know about P.A.C.E. can be found by going to www.pacetrek.com. Okay, here are some important links to check out (particularly if you’re a teacher):

§         FREE REGISTRATION for P.A.C.E. Trek 2010 – www.pacetrek.com/register.htm

§         Guidelines for forming a school P.A.C.E. team – www.pacetrek.com/guidelines.htm

§         The P.A.C.E. Trek 2010 Online Classroom (in development) - www.pacetrek.com/germany

§         $500.00 Award to be given to a school’s P.E. department – www.pacetrek.com/win500.htm

§         See what schools have already registered – www.pacetrek.com/germany/teams.htm

§         The route to be taken through Germany – www.pacetrek.com/germany/route.htm

§         The official press release – www.pacetrek.com/pressrelease.htm

§         Have Paul visit your school for an assembly – www.pacetrek.com/assembly.htm

§         The P.A.C.E. health/fitness blog, updated daily – http://pacetrek.blogspot.com

§         Join the P.A.C.E. Facebook group – http://groups.to/p.a.c.e.

§         View P.A.C.E. news videos and slideshows – www.youtube.com/pacetrek

§         The P.A.C.E. Fitness Foundation, Inc. – www.pacefitnessfoundation.org

§         A P.A.C.E. fitness challenge ANYONE can do – www.pacetrek.com/challenge.htm

Also, you can learn more about me by visiting www.pacetrek.com/paul_staso.htm and details about “BOB” (the stroller) at www.pacetrek.com/bob_stroller.htm. As I ask each year… please share this information with any K-12 teachers you know. All school types are invited to participate for FREE, including: public schools; private schools; charter schools; military schools; and, home schools. I’ve logged thousands of miles through P.A.C.E. over the past three years and I’m looking forward to running through Germany with thousands of kids alongside me virtually. It’s going to be a great adventure!

Gotta Run,

Paul J. Staso

Founder, President and Ultra-Endurance Athlete

The P.A.C.E. Fitness Foundation, Inc.

P.O. Box 3404, Missoula, Montana 59806

- 2006 Solo Run Across America (3,260 miles in 108 days) – www.pacetrek.com/usa

- 2008 Solo Run Across Montana (620 miles in 20 days) – www.pacetrek.com/montana

- 2009 Solo Run Through Alaska (500 miles in 18 days) – www.pacetrek.com/alaska

PER’S STORY
IAU Newsletter Summer Edition 1991
We had two 24 hour events in Norway in 1990, both outstanding, each in its own way. Both events had two things in common, they were solo runs and they took place on a track. Apart from this they were very different indeed.
On June 4th, 57 year old Torleif Rekkeboi, who in July 1989 had run the 541 kms from Trondheim to Oslo in 3 days 8 hours, ran a marathon in 2.55. Three days later he ran a five miler in 30.30. The next evening he covered a half marathon in 1.20,04, got into a car and drove some 200 miles during the night to participate in the famous Mountain Marathon. He got just one hour of sleep and finished the,marathon in 3.06.
The following Saturday he again ran a marathon, this time in 2.50.31. Three days later he finished another evening marathon in his home town of Trondheim in 2.51.05.
One would think that this series of remarkable performances should have killed any normally equiped runner, but for this training maniac- he runs between an hour and one and a half hours every morning and between two and two and a half hours every afternoon,besides competing every weekend- this was just a warm-up for his 24 hours event which took off at 19.45 on June 21st , on the stadium of Norway’s leading soccer team.
Rekkebo was running very evenly. He went through the first marathon in 3.29.05, the first 100km in 8.55.23 and 100 miles in 15.08.59 before he started to slow somewhat down.During the last few miles he was enthusiastically cheered by approximately 20,000 soccer fans on the terraces, waiting for the kick-off of a first division league match at 20.00 hours. How many of these soccer fans who became ultra-distance fans is hard to say , but I doubt whether any ultra-runner has had an attendance like this in this century?
Well anyway ,Torleif Rekkebo had covered 240.646 kms when the 24 hours were at an end, a brilliant new national record, and probably one of the best performances in the world in his age group. On the following Sunday he jogged through 20kms in 1.22 just to show that the “oldie” hadn’t lost his kick!
The other 24 hours event is a story with a perspective far beyond the realm of just sport.It is a story of fighting spirit, a story of courage, a story of love….

Oddbjorn was knocked down, but not knocked out! When he heard the terrible news of his young friend’s death , he promised to do something for other cancerstricken children- he wanted to collect money to give cancersuffering kids an opportunity to travel, to have some fun, to enjoy -as far as possible- their life!
But how could he get any money? Then the idea struck him: He would run a charity 24 hours event in his home town, Kristiansund, hoping that the young people of the town would be willing to pay for each lap he was going to cover. He promised to run 500 laps, or 200kms- in itself not a world class performance, if considered from the experienced top level runner’s point of view, but a formidable and frightening task for a man who had never run beyond the magic marathon distance.
He got some good and reasonable advice from an experienced ultra runner friend , but a good advice is after all nothing more than-just a good advice! The real thing is something quite different which our hero was to find out in the most dramatical way!

He started his lonely run at 18.30 hours on Thursday the 25th of October on a very icy and slippy track. Weather conditions were far from favourable, a cold rain, a chilly wind and fog prevailing.
Oddbjorn took off optimistically as first-timers usually do, keeping an even, just below 5min/km pace. The first marathon was covered in 3.20.32, but already at this point he began to realize the sheer madness of the obligation he had placed on his shoulders. People on the track-and there were people there all the time -could not see him across the track, owing to the dense fog. The icy surface made his running difficult , forcing him to change his ordinary gait, which in the end, probably was the cause of the serious injury he gradually and hardly noticeably developed.The humid weather made his clothing wet and cold, and he was compelled to change more often than he had planned to.
lOOkms was reached in 8.39.36-an outright unbelievable feat under the prevailing conditions! Any athlete capable of running lOOkms in 8.39-on a good day-is justified in considering herself/himself an outstanding ultrarunner. And here we have this man runnin,s.
under conditions no sensible man would care to leave his house in, much less consider trying to run 500 laps on an ice-covered , wind exposed track.And why was he doing this?
For Oddbjorn Lomunddall this race had become a battle of survival, a battle of honour, a battle of mind over matter! He was already suffering, his aching body-which was not prepared for this-wanted to give up, but deep down in his mind, in the area where the frontier between conciousness and unconciousness is hardly discernible, he seemed to hear a voice urging him on: “Come on, cfome on, think of little Sigbjorn!”
And the mere thought of his little friend , who had so courageously fought against his merciless destiny , gave the exhausted runner the will to continue this uneven match, where all the odds were so definately against him! All odds but one, his undefeatable will to fulfill his obligation!
So, on he goes, defying the pain, the tiredness, the suffering. At 3 o’clock in the morning something quite unexpected happens. The vocalist of one of the most popular bands in the country” Dance with a stranger”, Oyvind Elgenes, arrives at the stadium. Without the support of his band , he performs the song “Keep on Running” to honour the hero of the night….
The 38 year old Oddbjorn Lomunddal has been running marathon for years, and has a personal best of 2.25. But he has never tried running an ultra. He is a practising physiotherapist, and in this capacity he met the 11 year old Sigbjorn in the Spring of 1990. The little boy was cancerstricken and no treatment seemed to lessen his pain and suffering. Then he came to Oddbjorn to get some physiotherapy , and the two sportsloving “boys” soon found themselves on the same wavelength. The young Sigbjorn confided his hopes and dreams to his adult friend- he wanted to travel, he wanted to run and play, he wanted above all, to be strong and healthy! The runner and physiotherapist was deeply moved by his little patient , and did everything possible to help him, trying to save his tiny life. But the vicious and evil disease was not to be stopped , and two weeks after celebrating his 12th birthday, Sigbjorn died peacefully at his home.

And on he goes, doggedly, stubbornly.
An old injury in his left leg returns, and the pain he has felt up to this point is just peanits to what he will be going through during the last part of this incredible -run. Fortunately, he did not know what expected him. The doctor who was present during the run , told him to stop, but understanding that Oddbjorn had no intention whatsoever to consent to this very reasonable advice, he gave the tenacious runner a pain-killing injection. It did not help, but still Oddbjorn refused to retire. He just told his handlers and the medician that his little friend had suffered the hell of a lot more than any runner ever would suffer during any race- and returned to the track.
When he no longer was able to move his left leg, he asked that an elastic string was tied around his left thigh. In this way he could pull his leg forward by using his hands. He could no longer run, but somehow he managed to keep moving. He was, however, forced to take breaks at intervals , partly to relieve his injured leg, partly to put on dry clothes.
He kept his solemn promise. 500 laps was reached with just two minutes to go, and about 400 supporters on the track gave him the really big hand. They had been there all through the run, school children who had collected money to buy 90 laps, friends and collegues, workers, athletes of different sports- and the sisters and mother of his little friend, Sigbjorn, whose illness and death had made a top” trained runner to look at his running from a new and different angle.
200kms is not a world class performance, it is not even a national record. Bit those 500 laps run by Oddbjorn Lomunddal at the end of a cold and wet October represent more than 500,000 kroner, or the equivalent of about £45,000. And not even the best ultra runners in the world have ever won prize money like that.
Oddbjorn Lomunddal is one of those fortunate people that are healthy and able to play and run. He is grateful for that, so grateful, actually, that he was willing to gamble his legs and health to help some of those less fortunate than himself.
In his home town there are lots of people who admire his legs of steel, and love his heart of gold!
Per Lind To so
Jevnaker Norway.

Not sure about the year. Probably 1992 or 1993