Written by Sarah Sawyer - http://sarahstravelsandraces.blogspot.co.uk/
In the build up to the TP100, I didn’t really think about the task in hand. Don’t get me wrong, I was prepared for it within an inch of my life. I’d come into it on the back of the best 16 weeks of training I’d ever had. I was injury-free. My diet had been excellent and I’d had two beers since January. I couldn’t have been more ready for my first 100 miler if I’d tried. But when it came to the actual running of 100 miles, I didn’t want to think about it too much. I didn’t want to think about how much it would hurt, or when it would REALLY start hurting. I didn’t want to think about how on earth I’d feel at miles 60, 80 and 90. I’d never been to Oxford where the race finishes – obviously I knew it was west of London but it wasn’t until I really studied it on a map, that I realised it was a REALLY LONG WAY west of London. So I deliberately didn’t look at the map again. Ignorance was definitely bliss!
So rather than think about the task as a whole, in my head I’d broken it down into a few simple steps:
1. Get up really early on Saturday morning and get a train to Richmond
2. Start running along the Thames Path at 10am Saturday morning
3. Carry on running along the Thames Path for quite a long time
4. Arrive at Oxford before 2pm Sunday afternoon
5. Get a train back to Brighton
What could possibly go wrong?!
We caught an early train to Richmond first thing on Saturday morning with our friend Rashaad, all of us ready to run our first 100 mile race, our rucksacks packed and drop bags ready. When it comes to organisation, I’m the Queen of it, and I’d got everything ready the previous weekend. Unfortunately, everything I’d packed had been based on the balmy, summery weather we’d experienced through much of April, but the weather for race day had decided not to play ball, so midway through the week I had to unpack and repack everything, as sunglasses were replaced with waterproof trousers and suntan lotion was replaced with waterproof socks. This was definitely a case of the (organised) early bird not catching the worm!
We went through a seamlessly organised kit-check and registration, and had plenty of time to wile away the time chatting to friends before the start.
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| Centurion breaking down the task in hand to the basics! |
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| Centurion letting us know what we've got to look forward to! |
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| A little bit scared at the start line |
Miles 1 - 11 (What a beautiful day for a 100 mile run!)
I'd really rested since the SDW50 and Brighton marathon, so I was like a caged animal being released into the wild as we crossed the start line. The first 11 miles to checkpoint one were on tarmac and packed trail and we settled into an easy 9:30 - 10:00 minute pace. We had a rough plan to get to 25 miles in 4:30, mile 51 in 10:00....and then cling on for dear life for the second half and hope for the best, as we had no idea what was going to happen beyond the half way point! It was one of those perfect days for running - cool with the sun trying to break through, as we chatted to other runners, and the miles quickly passed by. It felt like today was going to be a good day (oh how wrong I was!).
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| Full of (running) beans early on - thanks to Nigel Rothwell for the picture |
Miles 11 - 22 (In need of hills)
Running to the second aid station, it quickly became apparent what I was going to find most tough about the race, and that was the constant flat. I'd been warned about this in advance but I was expecting it to hit me at about mile 70, certainly not at mile 20! The flat terrain meant I was constantly using the same muscles, and already I was starting to feel some aches and pains that you definitely shouldn't be feeling this early into a 100 mile race - this was not on the race agenda!
Miles 22 - 30.5 (Eating my way along the Thames Path)
I enjoyed this section as we left the tarmac and packed trails behind and ran on less defined trails and I was feeling full of beans and energy. Everyone had drummed into me the importance of eating enough on a 100 miler, so I was cramming food in from the start. In fact, I ate so much in the first 35 miles that I started to think I was going to be the first person to run a 100 mile race and put on weight! However, eating from the off and regularly, worked a treat, and apart from a bit of a sickness wobble at about mile 70, my nutrition, which I often get wrong and don't eat enough and then end up feeling sick, was pretty much spot-on throughout the whole race, so at least the nutrition box was ticked, even if other things weren't going to plan!
Miles 30.5 - 38 (The first of our navigational mishaps)
Miles 38 - 44 (What kind of idiots run 44 miles without a walking break?!)
As we approached the fifth aid station, we had pretty much run 44 miles without a walking break. This was a HUGE error on our parts, but I'd naively gone into the race thinking, well I ran the entire 38 mile Downslink Ultra last year so I should be looking at running at least the first 40 miles today. The same muscles which had been constantly used over and over again were starting to scream at me, and it was at this point I started to get pretty worried - this is how I thought my legs would feel at mile 80, certainly not at mile 40! We also realised we were getting passed by runners who we'd previously spoken to who were adopting a run/walk strategy from the start, whereas my 'run' was starting to feel like a pitiful shuffle, so we made the decision from Hurley to start adopting walking breaks every now and again.
Miles 44 - 51 (Learning to walk)
We started by walking for about 5 minutes and then running 15-20 minutes and this transformed my race, and I had my best section since the start. It was amazing how just a short walking break used different muscles and gave my poor running muscles a well-earned break. When I started running again, my muscles felt so refreshed that I was running so much stronger, and in hindsight we should have done a run/walk from the start - hindsight is a wonderful thing though! Arriving at Henley aid station at mile 51 in 9:52 (just under our 10:00 target) felt like a seminal turning point in the race - firstly, we were over the half-way point and it was 'just' 49 miles to go! Also, as we arrived in Henley we saw a 'Welcome to Oxfordshire' sign - it felt like we were making progress and that we were in the county we were due to end up in (I didn't realise at the time we would soon leave Oxfordshire and visit numerous other counties before finishing back in Oxfordshire but at the time it gave us a wonderful boost!).
Henley aid station was like a wonderful sanctuary with our drop bags and hot food on offer. I changed my top which felt amazing, and put leggings and a warm hat and head torch on, ready for the imminent night section. At the last moment, due to the weather forecast predicting heavy rain, I'd added a pair of Hoka Mafates to my drop bag, with the intention of changing out of my Stinsons, and wearing the Mafates for the second half which is trickier terrain and can get muddy, however the decision was taken out of my hands, as my feet had already swollen so much that I couldn't even get the Mafates on! Tea and the most amazing veggie pasta picked me up, and I left Henley feeling the best I'd felt since the start of the race. We spent about 25 minutes here but it was definitely 25 minutes well-spent.
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| Getting ready for 'round 2' - 'just' 49 miles to go! |
Miles 51 - 58 ('Flying' to Reading)
Hot food, a change of clothes, and our new run/walk strategy meant that I felt like we flew through this stage (when I say 'flew' it's very much relative, but I was definitely running and moving the best I had in the whole race up until now). We chatted to other runners and people kept telling us that arriving at Henley in under 10:00 meant that we were well on track for a sub 24:00 finish. As this was our first 100 miler, our only goals were 'survival and completion' and to come home under the 28:00 cut-off, and anything else would just be an unexpected bonus, but the lure of a sub 24:00 finish and a 'One Day' finishers buckle was definitely seeded and I became a bit more conscious of the time.
Apart from some dodgy characters by the river during this stage, this was another of my favourite sections and we arrived at Reading checkpoint feeling strong and that the miles were passing quickly by. It started raining just before we arrived at Reading at 10pm, but considering some of the weather forecasts had predicted rain all day, we felt pretty glad that we'd got 12 hours of running in before the rain started. As it turned out, most of the rain throughout the night was little more than light showers which were actually really refreshing, and the deluge didn't arrive until morning when I was feeling pretty numb anyway!
Miles 58 - 67 (Quite enjoying this 100 mile running lark!)
This was another of my favourite sections, and if I look back on the race as a whole, the 23 miles between Hurley and Whitchurch were my favourite of the race. I was still getting lots of food inside me, having a hot tea at every checkpoint and by interspersing 5 minutes of walking every now and again into my running, saving my legs. Quitting was never going to be an option, but arriving in Whitchurch with 'just' 33 miles to go (little more than a marathon and a 10k!), I knew I was going to finish this thing, and perhaps even in a sub 24:00 time, which would have been my absolute dream result.
Miles 67 - 71 (The start of my descent into hell)
Unfortunately what goes up, must come and down, and despite it only being 4 miles until the next checkpoint, this section was hell for me. I started to feel sick for the first time in the race, this was the only notable hilly part of the course, so I got the hills I'd previously craved for, however by this point, my legs were absolutely trashed and each ascent and descent was sheer agony. I started to feel a bit sorry for myself here and all of a sudden it seemed a long way 'home'. What I wasn't expecting though were the 'Angels of Streatley aid station', who saw me come in looking particularly pitiful, thrust tea and a jacket potato, cheese and beans onto me, and within 5 minutes I was feeling more human again and 15 minutes later I felt like I was skipping out there like a new woman!
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| Saved by a jacket potato at Streatley aid station! |
Miles 71 - 77.5 (Hell)
After the initial high of leaving Streatley, things started to get REALLY tough. Progress was slower and each mile seemed to be getting longer. We also made one of our 'detours' here and racked up some more extra mileage - there are few things more soul destroying that running extra mileage in an ultra!
Everything hurt now and when I say hurt, I was experiencing levels of pain that I didn't know were possible. I knew 100 miles was gong to hurt, but this was unprecedented levels of hurt! I think it started to get light in this section (everything is hazy at this point) but there was none of the euphoria of having made it through the night, I just wanted it to be over. Every few minutes I became possessed like a madwoman and and tried to run 'fast' - walking hurt, running hurt, so I figured I may as well and get this hell over as quickly as possible, but then every burst of 'speed' was followed by a painful shuffle of a walk, and all of a sudden our comfortable buffer for a sub 24:00 finish was becoming less and less.
Miles 77.5 - 85 (More hell)
I'm not exaggerating when I say this felt like the longest 7.5 miles of my life. The rain was coming down heavily now and the terrain was lumpy soggy muddy grass. I hated every step of it. Occasionally I'd burst into a madwoman style 30 second run, but the majority of the time I was just focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, just wanting to get this hell over with.
This section was particularly soul destroying as it was very open and we could see well ahead and that there was no aid station coming into sight! By the time we arrived at Clifton Hampden and saw the lovely Donna who I'd met at the SDW50, I was a broken woman and even the thought that there was 'only' 15 miles to go didn't pick me up, as progress was so slow now, it felt like there were hours left before it would be over.
Miles 85 - 91 (The beginning of the end)
We'd been told at Clifton Hampden that we were still on track for sub 24:00 and I tried to keep this momentum and motor on when we initially left, but within 10 minutes of leaving the aid station, I realised I didn't care anymore about sub 24:00. It sounds over-dramatic now, but at the time I had absolutely nothing left to give either physically, mentally or emotionally. Tom was still looking relatively strong at this point, so that sent me into tears as I felt I was letting him down, and told him he should leave me to finish the race on my own so he could finish in sub 24:00. Fortunately he spoke sense into me and reminded me that our first 100 was only ever meant to be about finishing, but having being awake for well over 24 hours and running for 20 hours does do strange things with your emotions! The rain was absolutely chucking it down now and the terrain had become really muddy, so I death marched on, feeling like the weather and conditions pretty much matched how I was feeling!
Miles 91 - 95 (Saved by the volunteer at Lower Radley)
The death march continued, EVERYTHING hurt and I just wanted it to be over. I knew we could plod to the end and come home in around 24:30 so I was just counting down the minutes until this hell would be over. We arrived at the final checkpoint, and one of the volunteers told me to eat and that I had just over one and a half hours to finish the race (meaning I had one and a half hours to get under 24:00). I looked at him and laughed and said I've got four and a half hours to finish the race (ie to get home before the 28 hour cut-off). And he repeated, no you've got 90 minutes to finish. All of a sudden something came over me, I'd been out for 22 and a half hours, I felt at times like I'd been to hell and back, but I wasn't going to let this sub 24:00 escape me.
Miles 95 - 100 (A woman possessed)
I quickly grabbed some food and ran off like a woman possessed. The first half of this section was muddy but I just didn't care as I was slipping and sliding over in the mud, the sub 24:00 was going to be mine! Fortunately the last couple of miles moved onto pavement, and as our Garmin approached 103 miles (due to our navigation errors) we finally saw the best sight known to man - the Centurion finish line gantry. Soaking wet and with every part of me hurting, we crossed the line hand in hand in 23:25, and the main thing I can remember feeling is just sheer relief that it was over and that I never had to run 100 miles ever ever again!
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| Finished my first (and last?!) 100 miler |
The aftermath
If I thought I'd been hurting whilst I was running, the hurting really started when I sat down and attempted to remove my trainers, socks and leggings. I'd had a pain in my right shin from early on and it was only when I took my leggings off that I saw my right ankle was the size of a baby elephant's! In addition, I'd always prided myself that I'd never had a running related blister, well that was well and truly scuppered as without going into too much graphic detail, my feet are in absolute bits!
I'm not ashamed to admit the TP100 well and truly broke me - it picked me up, chewed me up and spat me out into little pieces that are still scattered along the Thames Path. I hadn't gone into the race with my eyes closed and I knew it was to be the hardest thing I'd ever done, but I didn't think it would break me to the extent it did. I thought I was pretty strong mentally, but I found the constant grinding through the night, mentally and physically exhausting. I know in a way I'm being a bit hard on myself - we were placed 99/100 out of 265 starters, there were 182 finishers which means I was one of 68% people who did finish it, but at the moment all I can reflect on is how unbelievably hard I found it.
Will I run another 100 miler? I genuinely don't know. And without sounding like a big girl, I don't know if I could run one without Tom who was my absolute rock through the whole race. I am so glad that I ran my first 100 miler with Centurion as the organisation, the support and the volunteers are second to none. And if (this is a huge if!) I was to run another one, it would be the SDW100 without a doubt (our usual stomping ground and on hills which I'm much better on than the flat). But I certainly couldn't imagine running more then one a year - I have the upmost respect for all those doing the Grand Slam and running all four Centurion 100 milers in a year, but I just felt it took too much out of me physically and mentally, to even be able to think about another 100 miler for a long long time!
As always, a huge thank you to James, Nici, every single volunteer and every runner whom we shared the day with - if I'm going to feel like I went to hell and back then I couldn't wish to do it with a lovelier bunch of people!
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| His and Hers One Day Finisher Buckles - definitely worth every single second of pain! |
Footnote
When I got up this morning, the first thing Tom said to me is 'I think I'd like to run the Autumn 100' and three minutes later he's entered. As I write this there are still about 40 places left and a little part of me thinks should I give a 100 miles one more go to see if I could make it hurt any less next time?! I'm going to park that final thought for another day....!