Written by Andy Jones - http://jonah-personalmusings.blogspot.fr
“Fair play to you, I could never do that”, are the words that I should never have said to myself.
My previous experiences of the 100 mile distance is either manning a check point or running a few short sections with friends. Seeing the effort (and pain) that they went through had convinced me never to try it, but without realising it, I had challenged myself - how could I come to that conclusion without at least trying one?
This is the reason that I found myself in a field in Winchester at 6am on Saturday 13th June, next to more than 250 other idiots (an affectionate term really!) and began making my way to Eastbourne 100 miles along the South Downs Way.
I love a challenge, but I am not a good runner. I like the process of training for something, and having a reason to not drink a bottle of wine and eat crisps every night on the sofa – something that I could comfortably do every day of the week. The concept of training for 100 miles was and continues to be alien to me. I still have no idea how to do it. I just ran, cycled and rowed a bit and tried to lose weight. Throughout the build-up I had issues with my feet and hips, so my attitude to the event was lets just give it a go, if the body breaks then I will stop, if I get to a point that I don’t want to carry on then at least I will have my answer and won’t need to try another one.
There was little strategy. I hadn’t previously done a recce of the course (I just knew that it would be hard and hilly). I was going to walk every uphill, use poles to take as much weight off my feet as I could, try to eat and drink as much as possible, and just try and enjoy it. Surprisingly enough this simple approach worked well. I took it as easy as I could and was well up on the sub 24 hour pace without too much effort. I had a good chat with fellow runners (nice to meet you Barney, sorry about my boring farming story!) and I loved seeing my little family at miles 27, 35 and 40.
The body was holding up well and I made sure that I took the advice we were given and soaked in all the amazing views – the SDW is indeed stunning.
I made it into Washington at 54 miles to be greeted by a good friend of mine. Spirits were high. I was there in just over 11 hours and was still strong but there were signs that things were going to get more challenging. My hips were beginning to hurt now and I was losing my appetite. I loaded my bag with more food, changed my shirt and headed off again up another hill - standard! A specific finish time was not my primary goal. Genuinely it was to finish, but if I could sneak under 24 hours I’d be happy. I was still over an hour up on the sub 24 hour pace and I just wanted to keep going.
For some reason I had got it into my head that a check point was at 63 miles, so when I arrived at Botolphs and found that it was only 61, mentally I found that very difficult. My right hip was now giving me a lot of discomfort and my stomach was not happy, so I decided to walk, and force food down me until I started feeling better. I was meeting my friend Graham at mile 72, so I had 9 miles to ‘recover’. I tried everything that I could to sort my stomach out but I couldn’t get rid of the nausea. Was it better to make myself sick, or try and keep down whatever was in my stomach? No food appealed, and even my go-to fuel of a pepperami was revolting – trying to force that down with diluted coke near Saddlescombe Farm at mile 66 was a particular low moment.
By now my pace was very slow. Unless you have experienced it, you just can’t imagine how disheartening it is to cover just 3 miles an hour when you would normally expect to cover 5 or 6 miles. Trying to ensure that Graham wasn’t waiting too long for me kept me going. We met up at 11pm and now the head torches were turned on. I was still on for 24 hours but realistically this ‘goal’ had long gone. All I wanted to do was get through the next 28 miles. The thought of dropping though never really entered my mind – I was too preoccupied with feeling terrible and also dreaming of sudocrem!
Graham Booty is a great runner. I “helped” him on one of his 100s between mile 80-90. When he was on 86 and I was on 6, I clearly remember having to ask him to slow down a touch so that I could keep up! He is quality, so he was completely over qualified to be trudging through the night at a snail’s pace with me. He was great though. He provided the chat, opened every gate and importantly knew when not to say anything because he understood that I was often in a very dark place and just needed to tough it out. The hills kept coming, but it was definitely the downhill’s that I dreaded most. After an eternity (even that doesn’t convey how long it felt!) the daylight appeared. Whilst we had just 9 miles to go, it was still so frustrating to know that this would take more than 3 hours to cover.
Approaching the aid station at mile 96 I thought I saw a massive marquee, and wondered if Centurion had really pushed the boat out, only to find that it was just an empty field – clearly I was tired and the mind was now playing tricks.
The stomach wasn’t accepting anything now so there was no point in stopping. The endless plod continued and eventually we headed off the SDW and into Eastbourne. (A massive thank you to the couple who stayed all night in their tent to ensure that the runners knew which way to go!!)
Approaching the sports ground and the finish was an odd feeling. I was tired, in pain and nauseous. I wasn’t particularly euphoric. I had covered 100 miles but I was very conscious that I had kept my friends waiting for me and it was affecting their plans for that day. Graham had to extend his parking permit. My girls were waiting for me at home because it was my birthday and they had planned a nice lunch. Rowley who kindly agreed to meet me at the end and drive me home had been waiting for me at the finish line all night. He had however kept himself busy by handing out the buckles and having his photo taken with the finishers!
But enough about me. The beauty of the Centurion events is the collective, not the individual. The organisation is fantastic - the website, the registration process, the community on Facebook, the volunteers, the sponsors, the check points, the food & drink, the can-do attitude, the warm/friendly welcome, the up-all-night dedication. When you blend all this with a great attitude from your fellow runners (friendly and empathetic, not competitive), you get something special, and something that should be celebrated.
Back to me. “Fair play to you, I could never do that”. Well I proved to myself that I could. I did it. With a finish time of over 26 hours, I didn’t break any records, but I was never going to. It was bloody hard. I have never had to dig deeper to complete anything before. Thank you to all those that helped me. You won’t see me competing in another 100, (the body won’t allow it), but you will see me helping out at an aid station, and now I will have even more respect for those that are attempting this stupid distance.
