Never Running Here Again – SDW100 2015 Review

In what is becoming a common theme for me during 100’s, my major wobble kicked in at 89 miles. I sat in the car with Louise and pathetically wept (no tears, I was too dehydrated) about how I was feeling. How I never wanted to do this again. I’m cancelling every race I’ve got booked up, I don’t want to feel like this any more or ever again. This is stupid and pointless and I want to go home. Let me quit. 

The day started well, I ran/walked within myself and enjoyed the support from my buddy Paul for the first 35 miles. I felt fine, yes the hills will still there as I remembered from last year but I was holding back for the 2nd half of the race. The heat didn’t seem to be bothering me much and my confidence was growing. Which made the stomach issues I had after I left Cocking so annoying. I had been fuelling well up until that point but then I couldn’t stomach anything and felt so faint I was struggling to focus on the path in front of me. My calorie intake went to practically zero.

I dug deep to get to Washington at Mile 54 where I saw Louise for the first time since I left Winchester at 6am and where I planned to take a few minutes to try to regroup and sort myself out. This really helped and I left the Aid Station in pretty decent spirits all things considered. I had slowed down to a crawl already by this point but knew I had built enough time where I could walk it in from there on out.

The wheels really came off over the next few miles though and by Mile 65 shortly before Saddlescombe Farm I slumped on the floor and any food i put in my mouth came straight back out. Another long break with Louise there before some comedy with a particularly angry cow and I was on my way again. The next 35 miles were the longest that I have ever had the misfortune to have covered.

Not only was i contending with the lack of food but now I was struggling with pain to my left foot, ankle, shin and knee. Every descent felt like someone was driving a stake through my knee straight down into the sole of my foot. The hard chalky surfaces of the downs had really taken their toll. The ascents were too steep for me to run so I was left with an extremely long death march to Eastbourne with only my thoughts as company. And trust me, you don’t want to be around those for too long.

I stopped at every aid station for a prolonged period barely able to talk and just trying to focus on how far it was until the next aid station. I could feel my heart rate was elevated even during a slight incline and this was making me get out of breath at the tiniest exertion. I’d walk uphill for 2 minutes and have to sit down for a while before carrying on. During the night sections I talked to myself about the game plan for the next section, trying to take my mind off the pain. It was a truly horrendous time.

The messages I received from friends, family and the first-hand support I received from Louise during the day and night were the only things that truly kept me going. Yes this is the qualifier to the Western States 100 lottery that I was so desperate to get into but this became much more about survival on the day rather than any future endeavours. Proving to myself that no matter how bad things got, I could make it. The life lesson I was looking for.

When i crossed the finish line I didn’t feel elated, I only felt relieved that is was over. I never have to run that course again – thank God for that. In the days that have followed my emotions have changed. This is quite honestly the first 100 Miler where I’m looking back and thinking – FUCK! I did it! I travelled 100 miles… ON… FUCKING…. FOOT. I’m so proud of myself, so proud of my support crew. I have that warm glow I’ve been expecting and looking for all along.

I recently read the superb Natural Born Heroes by Christopher McDougall (he of Born to Run fame and part of the reason I’m running Ultras in the first place – oh the irony). There’s a couple of lines in that book that resonate strongly with me after my experiences at the South Downs Way 100 :

“Heroes are protectors, and being a protector means having strength for two. Being strong enough to save yourself isn’t good enough; you have to better, always, than you’d be on your own”

Looking back at the whole day it’s obvious who the true Hero of this particular story really is. As the runner I only see things from my angle. I just run (or walk, or crawl, or stumble). I feel the physical pain throughout and the mental anguish growing as it takes me longer and longer to travel what are relatively short distances (3+ hrs for 11 miles anyone?). Louise though had to be ready for the walking dead arriving and giving me enough of her energy so I could carry on, whilst making sure she had enough to get to the next meeting point to get me going again. Without those words, that support, that compassion, I would have quit this race again.