Written by Gary Brampton - http://dreadrunning.blogspot.co.uk

My lead up to this event had left me low in confidence; the previous two marathons had been far harder than they should have been and the nature of this run, 50 miles of tough trail with 5600 feet of elevation gain, was not to be taken lightly.  My plan was simply to focus on the next aid station and its cut-off time, I was fairly sure that I wouldn't make it through the full 50 miles but was quite relaxed about pulling out if I felt I was damaging myself or a time-out was looming threateningly, it wouldn't be a big deal.  Considering that I was pretty much a bag of nerves before the start, I settled into the run very quickly, and by the first aid station the doubts were already fading.  

I had been very happy to let the majority of the field pull away from me after the early congestion.  I hadn't recced the course at all but it was so well marked by the awesome Centurion Running team that it was only necessary to keep my wits about me.  My initial aim was to reach the first aid station comfortably ahead of cut-off and feeling as fresh as possible.  This was achieved going through with about 20 minutes to spare.  From the race photos it seems there were only three of the 232 starters behind me at this point, although I didn't think I was quite that far back.  Seeing a couple of friends, Adrian and Fiona, volunteering at the station added to my growing feeling of well-being.  Over the next four miles I really began to enjoy myself.  Pace was easy, the weather sunny without being too hot, the route was beautiful and I was loving the tranquility of being in my own bubble.  

First meet up with Mandy, my brilliant 'crew' for the day, was soon after the ten mile point.  I was feeling great, grabbed a handful of grapes and toddled onwards.  The next stage took me up to the strangely isolated St Martha-on-the-Hill church, redolent of a horror movie location had the weather not been so glorious.  The views across the Surrey Hills to the south were stunning, an early visual treat on a day which was to be full of such sensory delights.

Between here and the second aid station, just before the 15 mile point, I began to catch and overtake the odd runner and continued to feel as if I had hardly started my running.  I was now 50 minutes ahead of cut-off so was able to take on some Coke and water in a relaxed way and was just heading off when I heard Mandy calling me.  She had experienced some difficulty getting parked and had almost missed me.   We had expected this to happen at some point and so the prospect hadn't worried me but it was still good to reassure her that I was fine and again take a handful of grapes with me, it really did feel like they were giving me a boost.

Shortly afterwards I caught up with Rachel, a far more experienced ultra runner than I am, she was having a tough time but in her usual way was getting it done without complaint.  I still felt very strong and so after a while pushed on.  I was starting to catch more and more runners and was very pleased with how good I was still feeling.  I met with Mandy again shortly after 21 miles, grabbed a little more food and marched on to the familiar territory of the Denbies Wine Estate which I knew from the Bacchus Marathon.  

I arrived at aid station three over an hour ahead of cut-off in 4:57, official timing here shows that I had moved up 205th position.  I had been advised that as long as this 24 mile point was reached by five hours then you only had to keep moving to finish in time.  Tomatoes, nuts and oranges were the fuel of choice from this station and I headed out across the Box Hill Stepping Stones...

making very sure of my footing before taking on the infamous and strenuous ascent of Box Hill itself.  Strangely I still felt great after the climb.  Everything was going much better than I had hoped.  Mandy and I managed to miss each other at the top of the hill but I carried on unperturbed, still overtaking fellow competitors regularly.  By the time I reached the 31 mile aid station, greeted by Adrian (again), I was up to 187th place but for the first time starting to feel a little weary.  Vegan cake, Coke, electrolyte drink and the old favourite grapes from Mandy were taken and I continued after a longer than normal break.

Within a few minutes I started to feel better and started to move more fluidly, again catching fellow runners regularly.  During this phase I started to get a little confused about how many miles I had covered, at one point being certain I had passed 33 miles when I was still half a mile short of that distance.  On playing around with the watch settings I noticed that battery life was down to 10% and was quite pleased to stop the timing so that the mileage confusion ceased preying on my mind.  Immediately I was far happier just being able to see the actual time. 

I next met Mandy at 34 miles, she had purchased a bottle of Coke which seemed to be exactly what I needed at the time, I sat on the back of the car for a brief rest whilst I swigged half of it, took the last of the grapes and headed out to the hills once again.  Five minutes later I made my only major navigational error, following the main path rather than forking left onto what seemed a minor trail, completely missing the very clear marking.  I was hugely grateful to the following runner (from checking event photos I think possibly called Gary) for shouting after me and ensuring that it only cost an extra minute or so.

At about the 4pm, around 36 miles into the run, a view unfolded around me that will live with me for a long time.  I was trotting along a relatively nondescript track when the vista opened up on both sides, lit by brilliant sunshine through clear spring air.  To my left the skyline of central London, the majestic Shard sharply dominating its urban patch, to my right the bucolic beauty of the High Weald; a truly breathtaking moment in which I felt at one with the universe in supreme contented isolation.  Then I realised that the blister on top of my big toe had burst.

By the next aid station at 38 miles I was well over two hours ahead of cut-off, feeling on top of everything and had moved up to 187th position.  A few words with volunteering friends Paul and Fiona (again) and I was quickly through the station running as well as any time up to that point.  I met up with Mandy again a couple of miles further on, took a swig of Coke and was soon off again, pretty much enjoying every single step.  I was already thinking in terms of this being one of the best running experiences of my life.

I soon recognised parts of the next section from the Vanguard Way Marathon and so knew another tough climb was due.  The legs just started to feel a little more heavy at this point and I slowed significantly with the dual intent of conserving energy and avoiding any trips on the uneven surface.  The climb up to the Botley Hill aid station was a toughie but I managed it without drama despite, bizarrely, being overtaken by a police horse huffing, slipping and staggering up the steep incline.  I wittily called to the WPC on board the beast that she was cheating which was probably the funniest thing she had ever heard.  Or maybe not.  The aid station was situated right at the top of this climb which was great for a quick rest and recovery before I commenced the final seven mile section.  

I was still able to run pretty well on the downhills but I found it difficult to stop trying to calculate how far I was through the final section, I just wanted to stay in the moment.  It was on a relatively easy part of the course that I had my only fall of the day.  My ankle went over and I tumbled straight into a thick patch of stinging nettles.  It was a strange feeling laying there on my back with the nettles all around knowing that whatever I did it was going to hurt.  A quick assessment established that my best bet was probably to roll straight out, which I did, sustaining quite a lot of stings to my right hand and leg.  I was soon up and off again, more amused by the incident than anything which says something about how relaxed I was still feeling.

I guessed that I was probably within three miles of finishing and the fall made me a little cautious but I was more than happy to proceed at a good hiking pace.  A little while later after a succession of gates and seemingly identical fields a glance behind made me aware that I was being caught by several runners.  One soon overtook me moving well and on entering the next field the finish gantry came into sight.  I resolved not to concede any further position so jogged on at a reasonable pace.  We were soon out of the fields and onto the road for the last half mile or so.  I increased the pace as much as I could but occasional glances back confirmed that I was still being caught.  A sharp left turn and I saw that the the final part of the course was uphill. I slowed to a walk to regain some energy, the clapping which had greeted me as I rounded the corner, broke out again very quickly.  I really was still being caught.  With that realisation I broke into the fastest run I was able to muster, turned left into the grounds of Knockholt Village Hall, up the vicious tiny rise immediately before the gantry and finished over an hour ahead of the cut-off and 16 seconds ahead of the next runner.  It really was worth 'sprinting' at the end of 50 miles for the sake of maintaining the sought after 161st finisher position.  Oh yes.  Definitely.

Mandy was on had to place the medal around my neck, a lovely touch, and I lowered myself to the ground in order to recover from my final push, reflecting on how stupid it was to finish like a lunatic, although to observers I was no doubt only trundling along.  Nici, one of the main organisers, advised me that as I now had a qualifying time I ought to enter one of the Centurion 100 mile races.  At the time I knew there was no way I ever wanted to go beyond 50 miles...

After a stagger to the Village Hall, during which emotion overcame me and I had to sit on a handy bench to weep for a few seconds, I collected myself and then my finishers T-shirt and headed to the car.  My calf muscles were rippling as if independently alive and occasionally they would cramp quite spectacularly but this calmed down and by the time we arrived home I was tired but physically fine.  Maybe I could get through another 50 miles on top of that, I began to think to myself, I would probably have felt fine if I'd taken the last part more easily...

This was in complete contrast to my only previous attempt at 50+ miles almost three years ago,  during which I felt worse than on any run before or since.  The NDW50 2015 has now officially been rated as my most enjoyable run ever, I just loved the whole experience of managing myself through the wonderful, challenging course.  I now know that the focus of my future running is going to be the ultra distances and I am feeling very excited about what will follow reaching 100 marathons, hopefully later this year.