Written by Fraser McCoull - https://frasermccoull.wordpress.com

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Not written a race report since my WHW triple crown last year. However I felt my experience at the SDW100 was sufficiently epic to merit trying to remember by wordpress password. 

We (Jen and myself), set off for Winchester on Friday morning. However it soon turned into an ordeal where a delay or cancellation in every mode of transport (ironically with the exception of the Edinburgh trams) saw us get in to Winchester over 2 hours later than planned. It would have been even later had we not abandoned the train journey early to get a taxi, when we learned the connection we would miss was going to result in a hours wait in the arse end of nowhere. So by the time we got dinner I hadn’t eaten or drank in about 7 hours. Less than ideal prep for a 100 mile race but I made up for it at dinner…inhaling pizza, garlic bread and a jug of water. We then headed to the hotel to get settled and to let me empty all our luggage back into assorted piles.

Race morning went pretty well. I had got about 5 hours sleep and had my mountain fuel for breakfast. Given I got zero sleep and couldn’t eat before the WHW race…I was doing well. We then jumped into a taxi, registered, faffed and then sat nervously for the start. Along with the obligatory toilet break every 5 mins.

James the race director gave us some brief instructions, then counted down….3,2,1….Go! Let’s run 100 miles. First part of the race went fairly to plan. I was a few minutes bit off 20 hour pace but not much. I knew I’d be a bit behind as the estimates based on previous results seemed to suggest a fast start and slow finish. After a cool, damp start the temperature just kept rising. The cloud cover kept in the heat and constantly teased us with a few spots of rain…only to get more hot and humid. Damion said it was about 24c at one point….6c higher than anticipated. By 35 miles in I was feeling the heat but still moving well. That is, until I emptied my guts on the trail side (and a little on my shoes) at mile 40. I immediately felt better and pressed on getting some food a few miles down the road. Then at mile 47 it happened again (although my aim had improved). Bugger. I got to the aid station at mile 50 and managed to get some food down me. Only had to make it a mile to see my crew (Jen, Damion, and Holly). Ended up heaving at the trail side once more and had to sit down twice just to cover that mile. I couldn’t even walk in a straight line let alone run. I approached my crew with all the vigour and agility of a sack of potatoes. Inside I was begging them to tell me it wasn’t safe for me to go on, I wanted someone else to make the decision for me…surely not a good idea for me to go on. However they must have forgotten to pack the sympathy as they set about re-fueling me and talking me back into the game. So I stopped there for about half an hour, just to get enough energy to make it the 3 miles to Washington where I could get inside out the sun/heat for some pasta. I had a chat with Tim Lambert as he came passed, he was also struggling in the heat, so it helped to know I wasn’t the only one…and he showed no signs of packing it in! He had also made himself a target for me to catch!

I was told to walk and let my body recuperate and cool off. But within a mile I was doing 9m/m and ran all the way into Washington, stopping only briefly to drink some water when I thought I might be sick again. I was back on good form by the time I reached Washington, and I don’t think my crew could believe it was the same runner they dragged off the dirt just 3 miles earlier. I stopped for a while to eat pasta and enjoy being sat down and indoors. I needed to change things up a bit so I ditched the tailwind (hydration/energy drink for those not in the know) for water and salt tablets and left there with a 40min buffer on my 24h pace.

Before I knew it I was running well again…even running up hills and catching all those that passed me in that hellish part of the race when I wanted to quit. I Took my time in the next aid stations to get food in though as I knew I had depleted my reserves already. I continued this all the way through the second half of the race, never really having another bad spell. For the last few aid stations I was just trying to get the job done, so a couple of glugs of cola, and a few of water then on my way again.

The mist descended for the last 16 miles which made navigation a nightmare, and we managed to help a few runners back onto the right route. However it did make things nice and cool … even if you could only see a few feet in front. With 2 miles to go I was completely burst and struggled to get into a run, but I managed to keep things moving along and we continued to overtake a few more runners. I had gone over the last mile on road in my mind so many times, that it didn’t feel as long as I thought it was going to…but I have never been so relieved to get to an athletics track. 400m to go I gave it the beans 1 last time, as if I was running the last of a 400m intervals session (it felt fast….). Crossing the line I collapsed in an exhausted heap, not for the first time in the race…but certainly the last!

I had gone into the race gunning for 20h and was sure I could do it. However with the hot conditions, and my lack of ability to perform well in them, I was (and still am) well chuffed to get a sub-24h finish.

The acknowledgements. No good (or otherwise) blog would be complete without thanking the people who helped you out along the way. Much like Formula 1. The driver just turns up and steals the glory then writes some crap on the internet about how hard they worked for it. The real work goes on behind the scenes. So here goes….

The support crew – Jen, Damion and Holly. Apart from bringing along some pureed beef as food for me to eat …. These guys were on point from the start. Wouldn’t have got anywhere near the finish without them, they got me out of what felt like a completely hopeless situation. Not to mention they gave up their weekends to chase me across the countryside feeding me and dealing with my tantrums. What a team!

Centurion staff/volunteers – There was almost a 1-1 ratio of volunteer to runner. Every aid station was in full swing party mode, and have enough food and drink to keep us all going. Definitely one of the best races I have ever taken part in, and will make the trip down to do another one of their 100 milers.

RunRecover – I started working with Neil MacNicol at the end of last year with the aim of improving my race performance. Despite not making my 20h target, I was still able to finish the race strong in tough conditions, having lost a few hours to the heat. Certainly not something I could have done before. Hopefully I can keep the form going to nail that sub 20h in my next 100 miler!

RaceFitness – Kieron’s fitness classes have been great at improving my overall body strength and agility. Functional outdoor fitness using the environment as a gym definitely beats standing indoors repeatedly picking  up a bit of metal then putting it back down again. Even if it means you are obliged to take part in an obstacle race now and again.

That’s all for now…hopefully my next blog will be a really uneventful tale of how I ran 100 miles, everything went to plan and hit my targets.

For the stat geeks like me….here is my strava link

below: me looking surprisingly fresh with a hard earned belt buckle!

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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.    

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

Written by Martin Bell - https://thedeterminedrunner.wordpress.com

Well where to start? Chris, John & myself were all to make the journey down south from Aviemore to take on our 1st 100 miler in the south of England. John was support crew, whilst Chris & i were to attempt to run it.

Travelling down started at 5am on the Friday & a trip to Inverness airport with a quick flight to Gatwick. Once we boarded the plane & the doors shut we found out that there was to be an hours delay before we took off due to Gatwick being busy, surely Gatwick is always busy?? We eventually arrived down in the big smoke & made our way to the car hire place which ended up being a dodgy back street portacabin with some of Del boys cousins running it. After a lengthy time & having to agree to pay an extra £50 for some ridiculous reason of bringing the car up to European standards we got on our way. We loaded the in car Sat Nav with directions to Southampton & after an unexpected trip to Morrison’s car park (thanks sat nav) we arrived at our hotel. John being the driver quickly nipped to the toilet whilst Chris & myself got out of the car, closed the doors only to find out it automatically locks, so we spent the next few minutes looking at all of our running gear in the locked car & hoping John actually had the key with him?? Thankfully he did & the mini panic could now end.

The following morning started with the alarm going off at 4am, showers, porridge pots & bananas & last minute repacking of race vests. Then a short 15 min journey to the start. We’d already registered the evening before, so it was just a matter of hanging about & soaking up the atmosphere.

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GPS’s enabled, race brief done, good lucks to each other & from John & a see you on the other side & we were off!! As with all races the 1st mile gets carried away with all the excitement & come the 2nd mile you need to reign it in a little as it’s going to be a long day. My plan was & always had been to finish in under 24hrs & i knew various pacing strategies to make this happen, so walk the ups & run the flats & downs at a conservative pace was the plan. After a few miles i heard a familiar voice from behind, it was John Samways who was also running, i had hoped to meet up & run some of the race with John so this was a good start to the day meeting so early. We had a good waffle about training,life,races,work etc etc & we both had a similar race tactic & time goal so we kept together until mile 24. I’d been feeling that the pace we were running was just a little quicker than i wanted to go & the temperature was slowly rising & i was beginning to feel it, so i warned John i’d probably fall back pretty soon, we wished each other well & off he went slowly into the distance.

At this point i was thinking, you’re doing well, keeping an eye on the pace & conscious of the heat & slowing slightly to account for it. I’d meet John at certain checkpoints & as time went on i’d mention the heat more & more to him, i was really wanting to see a river on the side of the trail & jump in! When i’d get chance i’d be soaking my buff & pouring water over my head. I’d plastered myself in sun cream at the last check point only to find a tap just afterwards & try & have a shower in it to cool down then realize i’d just washed off all the sun cream! Doh!! Coming from Aviemore you do most of your running in cold weather & throughout the winter mostly in minus temps, so running in the mid twenties with what seemed an off the scale humidity was causing me some issues & did i bring that cap i thought about bringing? No of course i didn’t! I brought about 4 of everything else but didn’t bother with a cap to keep the sun off did i??

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Pace wise i was still well on track even though i’d been struggling with the heat. I seemed to have a system for the aid stations – fill bottles, 1 with water, 1 with Tailwind, drink a mug of coke, eat some fruit & savoury food as quick as possible, don’t sit down & get going. This was working ok & you’d leave & for the next couple of miles feel good but as the race went on the feeling good time would get shorter & more of a gradual what’s going on with my stomach? would take over. By the mid 40’s miles i was eating less at the stations due to my stomach feeling worse & worse.

I arrived at Washington (mile 54) in 11hrs 19mins which was certainly on the slower end of my schedule. Forced down some pasta that i wasn’t enjoying eating in the slightest, which was a bit of a down moment as i’d originally been looking forward to this checkpoint as it was going to be serving hot food & i like to eat food!! I met John there & was hoping to change my top & sort a couple of things but he didn’t have what i wanted with him & i was starting to get agitated. We met again shortly afterwards at a crew point & by now i was getting paranoid of meeting him at points that aren’t allowed as you can get disqualified for this. So i find myself saying to him i can’t see him at that point as it’s not a designated area (the heat & lack of food were obviously starting to make me not think straight), John points out the 2 marshall’s stood right next to him & 2 others about 10 meters away & they assure me all is good. So i change my top, get my poles & cables for charging my watch on the go, say thanks & head off up a hill.

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I’d been looking forward to getting the poles for some time now as i felt i was going to need as much help as possible. As i’m going up the hill i’m trying to take some food on board as i know i’ve not been eating or drinking enough, but my stomach is in knots, i want to throw up but can’t & every time i try & put anything in my mouth even on the 1st chew i can’t stomach it & stop eating, the same went for the water, as soon as i had even a sip my stomach would be yelling at me saying it didn’t want anything. For some time now as well, when i start to run my stomach gets worse & after a couple of miles from Washington i see a bench, sit on it, work out how far i’ve got to go (44 miles) & work out if i walk a 20 min mile from that point to the finish i’d still have plenty of time before the cut offs. Walking was easier on the stomach than the pain i was feeling when attempting to run. This did mean me accepting that my sub 24 hr was probably out of reach but maybe just walking for a few miles my stomach might calm down & i’d be able to eat & drink again??

It took me 2 & 1/2 hrs to do the 7 miles to the next checkpoint Botolphs & when i got there all i could do was sit on a chair, pour water over my head & ask everyone i saw if they had anything for upset stomachs? Nobody did. I had brought Imodium & paracetamol with me but i’d tried the Imodium & it wasn’t really the right thing. So i’d start popping paracetamol in the hope that might work? The Marshall’s asked if i wanted any food or drink but again i couldn’t face it, so off i went looking at my timing sheet checking the distance to the next checkpoint. It was all about just reaching the next checkpoint by now. I started up the next hill trying to phone John to ask him to get me something, anything to settle my stomach, but either he had no signal or i didn’t. I was weak & swaying side to side trying to get up that hill with only my poles keeping me upright.

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I meet John on top of a hill somewhere, i don’t really know where? I don’t really know what’s happening anymore. He asks me with a serious voice how do i feel as i’m not looking good, i think i tell him i feel like crap. He’d bought me a sandwich from a garage which i force 1/2 of it down before putting on my headtorch & swaying off into the distance. We’d agree to meet at the next checkpoint & i remember saying to John he’d have time for some sleep as it was going to take me a while. Well between Botolphs & Housedean Farm (15 miles) it took me 5 hrs 40 mins to get there. I was a stumbling sideways shuffling wreak at this point. Now somewhere at this stage of having the time of my life an old foot injury decided to come back & say hello. The same injury that stopped me from running for 18 months a couple of years ago, oh the joys!! So it’s pitch black, your’e on your own running on uneven ground in a place you’ve never been before, you haven’t really eaten or drank properly for the past god knows how many hours? You’ve been moving forward for the past 17/18 hrs, so what’s a sensible thing to do? I’ll tell you what isn’t, see a field off to your right go & lie down in it & try & go to sleep! I was totally exhausted, i’d been running on empty for hrs, i hadn’t been able to walk in a straight line for ages, my stomach was still going crazy & now i was limping badly with my right foot swaying to the side & sreeching at me in pain with every step i take, so of course going to sleep for 20 mins in a field in the middle of nowhere will solve everything, won’t it? I lay there for what i think is no more than 10 mins but could have been any amount of time really? I couldn’t get comfortable for some reason & when i decided that this was actually a rubbish idea, i get up feeling really cold & what’s that? I can’t open my left eye! I’ve either been bitten by something or have taken a reaction to whatever i was lying on!! I stumble forward a few hundred meters before stopping to get out some warmer layers from my pack. Some runners go past asking if i’m ok? Yeah i’m fine, just a bit cold, do you have anything for a bad stomach? No? No problem, bye now.

I know how to have a good time eh?

At some point during the evening/night but i can’t remember when? I get invited into a very posh house that’s having a wine tasting evening! It’s a bit bizarre but some very friendly folk invited me in & gave me an Alka Seltzer!

Housedean Farm (i think? though it could have been another checkpoint?) eventually comes into sight, i sit in a seat listen to a very chirpy marshall ask me what can he do to help me? I ask for anything that might settle my stomach but again no. I sit in a seat & watch 2 other runners get loaded into an ambulance & told they aren’t fit to continue. So i try & look as positive as i can eat a small amount & drink a cup of tea before they tell me the same! There’s no way on earth i’m going through all of this not to finish!

I continue on, I’ve now come to look at pacing in a different light, I was working as hard as i possibly could to crack out a 20 min mile & this felt quick!! This goes on for some time, daylight breaks, i wait for the power of the sunrise to give me some extra life, it doesn’t.

I finally make it to the checkpoint with the YHA where i meet John, i tell him about the foot & ask for the deep heat, off comes the shoe & on goes the deep heat & in go more paracetamol & off i go again, i’m just wanting to get this done & not hang about.

Up another hill, down another hill both as slowly as each other, i’ve continued with my sideways shuffle with the foot swaying to one side, my left hip joined in the fun ages ago due to me trying to keep the weight off my right foot. I think it was at this point i started having a conversation/argument with my feet! ‘Why can’t you be like the left foot?? That just does what it’s supposed to do! But no you’ve got to be a pain in the arse & play up again haven’t you??’ This went on for some time…

I’ve started swearing to myself quite a lot by this point ‘keep f***ing moving’ & other such phrases that kept me moving in a forward direction. I’m getting closer now, albeit slowly but i know i’m getting closer to the finish. It’s properly light by now, probably about 8am? I’m doing my shuffle downhill steadying myself with my poles & i see a group of girls obviously on some sort of hike or D of E? They’d stopped to get something out of their packs & i glance across whilst shuffling past & realize I’ve slever dripping out of my mouth as i stumble past!! Oh my god! What must i look like???

The last couple of checkpoints come & go, i keep going past them, i’m on a mission to get to the finish as soon as i possibly can, i’ve lasted this long without food & drink, i don’t need anything now to slow me down! I’m getting a bit emotional at this point, trying to fight back some tears, ‘don’t do it it’s a waste of energy, keep going!!!’

I finally get to the outskirts of Eastbourne, it’s like running through someones back garden down a slim path with nettles everywhere, the path is too slim for me to do my shuffle & i have to put more weight on my foot, ahhhhhh.  You reach the roadside & i see another runner who passed me waiting at the crossing, i think if i cross now i won’t have to wait at the lights, so off i go across what was an empty road only to find a car coming towards me & me having to break into a 3 meter sprint! Ow! Eventually you round the hospital & find the athletics track, there’s people cheering you on & i find myself smiling for the 1st time in ages. The finish did feel pretty special, the whistles & cheers, i was going as quickly as i possibly could right to the line (last mile pace was 22:17 pace but felt like a good 8 seconds quicker!).

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I collected my buckle, my t shirt, shook some hands, had some hugs, met with John, asked how Chris was doing? How did John do? What was his time? Went inside & phoned Ingrid but had to cut the call short as i suddenly felt dreadful. Time to visit the Ambulance dudes waiting in the corner, next thing i’m getting all sorts checked & lying on the floor with my feet raised!

A few days down the line & the foots still bad, but it was all worth it. It’s amazing at what you’re capable of even when everything is against you.

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Bring on the Ring O Fire!!

Chris made it with minutes to spare, & overtook last place with 1/2 mile to go! Well done Chris 

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Written by Peter Dennett - http://www.100marathonclub.org.uk

06:00, 13th and 14th June. The South Downs Way National Trail from Chilcomb near Winchester in Hampshire to Eastbourne in East Sussex, England

My Kit Review

This would be my second ever 100 miler after TP100, which was my first. There were certainly a few lessons learnt from TP100, but as far as my kit was concerned there were only a few minor changes, mainly to dispense with stuff I never used at TP100 and didn't expect to use them for SDW100. I also dropped my ‘food cup' in favour of a simple plastic bag after seeing other runner's use bags to good effect at TP100 to grab food at aid stations and allow themselves to eat on the go. As per TP100, I was using plastic bags to store items that needed to be kept dry. I found the security bags you get at airports idea for this as they are sealable and so fairly airtight. In fact my mantra on the subject is if an item that needs to be kept dry can't fit into an airport bag then it doesn't feature in my kit, and that includes clothing.

1 - A few items down on TP100 (and of course a change of map)

One addition though I had this time was a homemade wristband listing the aid stations by number and what miles and kilometres they appear on the route. This was mainly to save me asking that most common of runner's questions posed to aid station volunteers; “Half far is it to the next aid station?”, but also to allow me to break the race up into more manage chunks in the latter stages; easier to tackle 4 miles to the next aid station than say 20 or so miles to the finish.

The reason why I listed kilometres as well is that I normally work with those and so it's what my Garmin is set up to use; kilometres are far shorter than miles so crop up more regularly. Ok, there are more of them, but shall we gloss over that bit and move on?

Kit Check

Unlike TP100, there was an opportunity to do race registration and bag drop the evening before. So with the race HQ and start at Chilcomb about 20 minutes by car from where I live, I opted to take advantage of this. By getting the admin stuff done this way it meant less faffing on race day morning.

It was an overcast, very warm and muggy Friday evening, though thunder and rain were expected later that would hopefully clear the air.

2 - Chilcomb on a muggy Friday evening

At kit check my rain jacket receives some attention as the guy checking it doesn't initially think it meets Centurion running mandatory kit regulations. But on closer inspection he notes the taped seams. The jacket is very lightweight, possibly the lightest on the market but for the record it does meet all ultra races mandatory kit requirements for waterproofing guys! Anyway my kit inspection passes and I'm handled a blue casino chip. I've clearly going up in the world as at TP100 I only got a red chip. As with TP100 though no roulette wheel to play my increased stake on, but exchanging my chip I do get a race number and the opportunity to answer a few questions regarding my contact details and whether I was having crews or bag drops.

I also handed in my bag for the finish. The guy taking it seemed a bit surprised that I didn't also hand in a bag for Washington as mile 54. I didn't have one on the premise that I didn't really use the one I had at TP100. I was planning to use my trail running shoes anyway for the race so didn't need a spare pair, and I would be carrying a spare pair of socks with me from the start. The idea there was I could change the socks at any time and not be bound to changing them if I wanted to at Washington. That left the bottle of Lucozade which featured in my halfway bag at TP100. This time I decided I could live without that, being my second 100 miler and thus no longer a 100 miler virgin, I felt I was now grown-up and so could survive without such pampering luxuries.

Pre-Race Shenanigans

Then I headed home and the plan was to get a good night and with no race registration or bag drop to worry that would afford me a few extra minutes in bed!

The reality was in fact I didn't sleep well overnight and was up by 3am out of sheer frustration of not being able to sleep well. My mother picked me up at 5am as planned and drove me to Chilcomb for arrival around 5:20. My pre-race activities as they were mainly around waiting to use the toilets before catching the race brief shortly before the race start.

It was overcast and muggy, in fact quite repressive. It had rained overnight but the thunder had stayed away. I was cursing the weather as this was the second weekend on the trot I've had to put up with these Amazon-rainforest type conditions having done a marathon in the Netherlands the previous Sunday in similar conditions.

I had also picked up some weird cold in the week, one where I had no symptoms other than a rather runny nose. The fact I did a 10k road race on only the Wednesday before race day and achieved a seasonal best only highlighted the strange nature of this virus.

Race Brief and the Start

The race brief was similar to the TP00 one and included a demonstration of the visual aids we would encounter that would guide us on the course. The National trail acorn symbols, a Centurion Running arrow, the beloved red and white tape and new for this race, orange painted arrows.

The Race brief also mention that the exit of the field that we would about to do a lap of, that would take us on to the South Downs Way was a bit narrow, so some congestion was to be expected. I hoped to avoid this in the main by position myself near the front of the running field. Not right at the front, as that would probably result in me getting trampled to death by the elite runners, but just after them where hopefully in the main I would be out of harm's way.

This would also support my game plan. That was to follow a similar one for TP100 whereby I would try and do the first half was quickly as possible and then slog it out for the second half. As per TP100 I hoped to do this in less than 24 hours, but actually achieve the goal this time, and in addition I did have a rather romanticised view, even ambitious one of arriving at the Trig Point overlooking Eastbourne at mile 98 to be greeted by a splendid Sunday morning sunrise. Sounded like a very good sales pitch to me; perhaps I should take up secondary employment as a car dealer or estate agent!

The race did indeed start with a lap of the field, but there was a narrow section about halfway round, which didn't prove any problems for me before we're directed towards a gap in a hedge.

The lead guy was already some way ahead and I could hear the race starter directing the said leader towards the gap in a hedge. When I arrived at the gap in the hedge I ran through it to then find myself on the South Downs Way as promised. Yes, I was now on the course proper. This was initially a narrow footpath that did widen later on, consisting of mainly grass and dirt track.

To the First Aid Station

However, any hope of seeing the fine Hampshire countryside in the early stages was dashed by a lingering morning mist. Occasionally the route would be interrupted as we would cross the busy A272 Petersfield road, though marshals were on hand to assist us in the crossings.

As part of my first half plan the idea was to run the flats, bomb down the hills and shuttle up the hills. However, most people around me seemed to be taking a rather more consistent pace approach which meant that I was passed by quite a few runners up the hills but I caught and passed many of them on the subsequent downs. Furthermore, being fairly near to the front of the running field meant I was with some serious runners who weren't hanging about and so I gradually lost touch with them as the miles ticked by.

The first aid station is nearly 10 miles from the start, but having experienced something similar at TP100 it didn't feel quite so daunting waiting for its long arrival on the route this time around. As with TP100, I opted to try and eat stuff at every opportunity. With the muggy weather, my brain though decides fruit is the order of the day over savoury snacks. So after tucking in and grabbing some bananas pieces to go I continued my journey.

The Tree Root Dance

Along with the official National trail markers, the Centurion runners markers were reassuringly regular; a far cry it has to be said from TP100. The orange painted arrows were of particular note to me as they reminded me of the official yellow painted arrows that adorn the Camino de Santiago (St James' Way) in Spain of which various sections I've walked a number of times in the past.

Then around 13 miles, we came across a narrow section that seemed to consist of nothing but an infestation of tree roots. How I managed not to trip over any of them is a pure miracle but it did require some nimble footwork to get though it all. I was a bit conscious that as it was narrow I wasn't unduly holding anyone up. But since I was able to tagged on to the back of a couple of runners ahead of me with only one guy behind I didn't feel I was causing too much of a blockade.

But the tree root dance did take the wind out of me a bit and on the next hill after this I had to walk it. I was a bit disappointed to start walking so soon. But with the mist finally clearing to reveal blue skies, it was also getting very warm, so things weren't exactly on my side.

As I clocked some more miles, I then spot Rachel Smith. She was in a blue car and she actually spotted me first. I guess she was waiting for her other half; Traviss Wilcox. After a quick hello I pushed on.

Cheese and Pineapples

After seeing me off at Chilcomb, My mother was planning to see me at one of the earlier aid stations; either the car park at the Queen Elizabeth's Country Park (QECP); officially known as aid station two, or Hartling Downs; aid station three. When I arrived at QECP, which incidentally was preceded by a nice bit of downhill through some fields, she wasn't there, but I wasn't surprised as the car park was busy; not only the race aid station but with cars (naturally) as a result of people unconnected with the race who were there just visiting the park.

As with the previous aid stations, I continued my fruit fest, but spotting one of the volunteers cutting up some cheese, I ask if they could cut up some cubes for me. This they did and I prompted ate one at a time with pieces of pineapple, thus recreating that special moment at the last aid station on TP100. A few other runners noticed what was going on and the poor volunteer then had to cut up some more cheese cubes for those other runners.

QECP was over 10 miles from the first aid station so in theory the next 5 miles to Hartling Down should be a breeze by comparison, but it felt just as long. Things weren't helped by the fact that my Garmin reckoned it was more than 5 miles. Ok, Garmin miles tend to be a bit shorter than the real mile, but I was getting a bit concerned as well as suspicious in thinking that Centurion Running miles are a little bit longer than the real mile.

However, my arrival at Hartling Down was rewarded by seeing my mother. Whilst I continued my fruit fest, we had a chat; basically me explaining what the race's been like thus far, before we parted.

Familiar Faces

After passing through the aid station at Cocking; yes quite, and a race profile that seemed to consist of going either up or down hill, whereby I was regularly walking the uphill sections now, it was probably no surprise that the next two aid stations had ‘hill' in their name; these being Bignor Hill and Kithurst Hill. What was a surprise though was seeing Rachel Smith again, this time at Kithurst, noting down the race numbers of the runners as they arrived, me included.

Rachel though wasn't the only familiar face I had seen, shortly after Bignor I had been running through a field and noticed someone holding one of field gates open to allow runners though. It wasn't until I was nearer did I recognised who it was; an old skiing pal by the name of Ian Bruce who hails from Burgess Hill. He had threatened to make an appearance at some point but didn't say where or when. After passing through the gate we had a quick chat before I headed on, though a few miles later we met again.

3 - I came... and went

Less Familiar face-wise were a group of cyclists. I didn't know them but they regularly passed me only for me to catch up and pass them when they stopped for a break. I also saw the official race photographer, Stuart March, a few times and joked with him that ‘he certainly gets about a bit'.

In an Ok State at Washington

Kithurst was about halfway and my plan was going well. The legs were beginning to feel tired but I wanted to get to Washington before commencing the slog it to the finish part of the plan. Washington after all was ‘only' 4 miles on.

Unfortunately, I couldn't quite get to Washington before slowing quite a bit and when I arrived at Washington I'm asked by Karen Webber who was outside the aid station building welcoming the runners, how I was doing. I could only managed a simple ‘ok' to cover what I really meant which was ‘not great but I won't bore you with the detail'.

Inside the aid station hall, which had a distinctly American theme I gratefully accept some pasta. My stomach was feeling a bit uncomfortably empty after a day of eating mostly fruit and the pasta seemed to fit the bill of something more substantial. I sat down to eat the pasta, thus ignoring Traviss Wilcox's advice of not sitting down, but I was very much conscious of not outstaying my welcome, so literarily gobbled the pasta up as quickly as I could and after taking on some drinks I grabbed some bananas pieces to go and left.

On leaving Washington I see the aforementioned Traviss heading towards the aid station and not long after he overtakes me.

Dead Legs to Clayton

My legs had by now died, to the point where just moving was an Herculean task; my running was now more of a shuffle, which was a bit ironic as the route profile was a bit flatter now with somewhat more gentle hills. So despite the easier terrain, I wasn't able to make good use of it.

Then when the hills did return, I not only struggled really badly up them, but it took ages for me to recover from them. So it was probably just as well that the next few aid stations weren't too far from each other compared to the earlier ones. However, the aid station at Saddlescombe Farm reminded me that no matter how bad things appear, they could be worse as I noted a few runners here had decided to drop out of the race here. I was determined not to join them but my original plan of a sub 24 hours with that sunrise at the Trig Point, was now pretty much confined to the dustbin.

In fact my immediate priority was to get to Clayton Windmills (colloquially known as ‘Jack and Jill') before nightfall, but with the light already failing it was looking unlikely, but it's amazing how your eyes adapt to failing light and I arrive at Clayton Windmills without wearing my head torch whilst many runners leaving the said aid station had already switched to using their head torches; one of them was Traviss Wilcox.

4 - Whilst I was heading to Clayton my skiing pal was taking photos of sunsets

At my arrival at the aid station I briefly sit down to take out my head torch and my long sleeve hooded top, which had served me well at TP100 in keeping me warm, before grabbing some drink and food and heading back out. But as I walked up the hill from the aid station I still felt a bit cold so stopped to put my rain jacket on as well. Clearly the temperature had dropped rapidly since the sun went down but with my jacket on I soon got warm and felt if anything rather cosy in it.

Unexpected Welcome at Ditchling

With nightfall, the orange arrows and National Trail signs were somewhat less useful now as they weren't as easy to spot. However, this is where the red and white tape came into its own; the white sections of the tape are reflected and can generally be seen from some distance, so I increasing became more reliance on those, only seeking out the other signs for backup or additional confirmation.

As I headed through Ditchling Beacon I spot a few spectators ahead wearing head torches. On passed a couple of guys I hear them shouting ‘Is that Pete?' I stop and look behind to then recognise my old ski pal who I met earlier in the day. But I then realised he had another of our mutual skiing friends with him. I didn't expect the other guy to be here as he lives in Ashford, but he had decided to come all this way to watch the spectacle, which was a nice gesture. They also offer me a banana which I gratefully accept and eat shortly after.

However, other than that unexpected welcome, things weren't going goof for me, the legs were hurting now. Not like the latter stages of TP100 which was down to blisters, but just simply muscle pains and soreness. I had also resigned to the fact that I wasn't going to get any better than just walking and even with that I would occasionally slow my walking pace to offer some relieved to the legs before trying to up it again, but in turn the hours now seemed to tick by at an alarming rate and I feared this tactic would result in me being too slow to the point I would not even meet the 30 hour cut off for the finish.

A Dark Place

On reflection I don't think my mind was in a good place but at the time such doubts seemed so real. The fact that for most of the time I was alone didn't help. But the fact that I was a still moving was the glimmer of hope, plus the fact that I never DNF. I reflected on the occasions where I was in a similarly bad place and how I somehow managed to carry on and finish; pulling a calf muscle halfway through Marseille marathon and then spending the next 3 hours hobbling to the finish, a bout of Bronchitis at the Seville Marathon that took me three weeks to recover and various races where I had stomach issues, the most notable one being severe diarrhoea two third into the Porto marathon. This would be just another of those occasions, another of those tests of character. No, this wasn't the time and place for a DNF. And anyway, dead legs by comparison to the other events seemed too poor an excuse.

The accuracy of my Garmin compared to the Centurion Running miles though wasn't helping, as the aid station at Housedean Farm didn't appear when Garmin said it should. I did spot some lit houses but when I came near them there wasn't any aid station there, no familiar Centurion Running white flags. However, at least my Garmin was still working thanks to being powered by an external battery linked via the watch's USB cradle. A few runners on passing me asked how many miles we've done as their Garmin watches had long since died.

The aid station did eventually turn up and was a very welcoming sight, but I wasn't keen to hang around as time was most definitely not on my side. I also wasn't particularly hungry, especially after another runner turns up and promptly throws ups. Yes, it was time for me to go.

South-not-so-easy

As I walked through the night I would occasionally get overtaken by other runners, most with their pacers, but all of them asking if I was alright. Nice of them to enquire but there wasn't much they could do; I had to fight this out on my own. But it did demonstrate the high level of camaraderie in this game.

I was now also developing some blisters on my feet. These seemed to dislike the bumpiness of the course so when I came across a straight flat path of concrete it was a mighty relief. Of course the flat path didn't last forever, sadly.

For the next aid station at Southease, I initially didn't know where to go as for the first time I couldn't spot any obvious markers, but fortunately a guy was standing at a road T-junction and pointed in the direction I had to go. He also claimed the aid station was ‘literally' just down the hill. Well it was down the hill but also long a bit of flat section, then over a bridge towards Southease train station. Though I guess he was close enough, I was getting nervous in the latter parts of this bit as I was thinking I may have missed the aid station.

But at the train station, there were a couple of marshals noting down race numbers who then confirmed that the aid station was nearby. In fact the aid station was a short distance on the other side of the train line, but for safety reasons we couldn't cross at the road but had to drag our dead legs over the pedestrian bridge. Southease? More like ‘South-not-so-easy'!

Light at the Top of the Hill

At the aid station I again kept my stay short, only staying to get my drink bottles refilled. Though I had to confirm with the volunteers as to where I had to go, which was retracing my steps for a short while before going up a gravel track hill, yes, just what I wanted. Thanks again!

Things though improved at the top of the hill. The legs had finally come back to life, albeit in a not too great capability, but at least I could now manage a shuffle, rather than just walk. The other thing was it was now approaching dawn. No splendid sunrise, but at least I could begin to see where I was going and eventually I was also able to switch off my head torch.

By the time I arrived at Alfriston, it was most definitely daylight. I was feeling more my old self and even grabbed some food to go. Although I was now less worried about the race cut-off time now as my pace had picked up considerably I wanted to stick to the ‘keeping moving' urgency that I had developed overnight. On leaving I bump into Traivss again. I was a bit confused why he was here until he revealed he had some stomach problems and needed sometime out to resolve them. So at some point I must have passed him, but not sure where.

To Jevington

On leaving the aid station I wonder into a courtyard by a church. I had clearly missed a sign and quickly retraced my steps back to the aid station to then notice the familiar red and white tape showing the correct way. I then remembered the course notes that made it clear to cross over a white bridge and carry on towards Jevington and not turn right towards Exceat. In fact there was a piece of red and white tape on the Jevington post of the official South Downs Way signpost there.

Soon after I'm caught by Traviss and we have bit of a chat as we progressed. He agreed that we were looking at around 26 hours or so to finish this but then advised me to get some hiking poles for the NDW100. Then at the very next hill he clearly demonstrated how they can help as he marched up the hill quickly leaving me far behind.

The aid station at Jevington was for me bit of a non-event. Nothing to do with the wonderful volunteers there who kindly assured me that I would make it to the finish, but I was keen to keep going and my stay there was probably the shortest at any of the aid stations. With the race profile suggesting the final hill was up to the Trig Point. That was where I wanted to be as soon as possible.

Towards Eastbourne

It was some time coming but I eventually reached the top of that last uphill and I was now feeling mighty relieved that I had done the last hill of the entire course. I now had to find that Trig Point. Another runner who was a bit ahead disappeared through grassland and so I followed suit where I spot a red tent. Not quite what I expected; I was expecting some concrete post; i.e. the Trig Point, or to use its full name, the Ordnance Survey Triangulation Point.

I thought someone unconnected with the race was camping there but on arrival a marshal steps out welcoming me to the ‘unofficial aid station' at the Trig Point! She then points me to the gully we had to go down, warning me that it was a bit narrow and uneven in places. She wasn't joking, it was a very narrow and steep path of chalk and I proceeded with upmost caution as I didn't want to fall over and finish my race too early. Plus in places it was only really wide enough to have one foot in it at a time.

I then hear footsteps behind me and so moved to the side and let a fellow runner by. He thanked me but remarked he hated this bit, so clearly have had done this race before. He seemed to be able to move much quicker than me, but I wasn't tempted to copy his pace. The chalk eventually stopped to be removed by stones, branches and undergrowth as I entered some woodland, but essential no better under foot. I'm then passed by a lady runner who I had frequently seen on the route throughout. In fact we joked how often we had seen each over.

As with the other runner before her, she was descending with much more ease and dexterity than me. I think she knew I was struggling and assured me that the road wasn't far ahead.

My Pacer

The road did eventually arrive, though it did seem to arrive longer that I anticipated based on what the lady runner said, but at least I was now on the road and as such I was able to get running again. It started off initially downhill but slowly eased before I then had to turn right on what would be the final off-road section of the route. This was at least flat and fairly even underfoot and as such I was able to keep running and bizarrely even the blisters had stopped moaning. This took me to another road, now flat and I could see a few runners ahead who were walking.

My legs were now feeling the best they had for quite some time and with no complaints from the blisters I upped the pace a little. My confidence was also growing as coming from a road running background I was on my favourite running terrain; asphalt. In essential I was now in my element and for a while it didn't feel I had just been through 99 miles.

I was now passing the backend of the university that the race instructions were clear that we couldn't cut through to get to the finish. It's here that I then spot my ski pal who I've seen at numerous points on the course. I was expecting to have just a quick chat but he wanted to run alongside me. By his own admission, he hadn't really done any form of running for years, so this would be interesting I guess, but it was something he wanted to do and it was nice to have some company.

So we continued together down the road, before taking a left turn on to an asphalted footpath. My legs were beginning to feel tired again but with my friend making the effort to keep going with me I felt I couldn't ease up as it felt I would be letting him down. So we continued.

Eventually we got near to the car park where I had to pass round to the finish. My friend though had ran enough and had to stop to let me carry on. And on I did. Passing around the car park where a marshal remarked that I was the first person to be running at this point for some time. To then enter Eastbourne's sports ground. I could see the finish on my left, but I had to do a full lap of the athletes track, which at least though that was even and soft underfoot. Shame we could have this surface for the previous 99 plus miles of the course!

Sprint to the Finish

Ahead I spot another runner walking on the track to the finish. He was about a third of the way around. Could catch him? With that thought I forgot about my tired legs and set about chasing him down. He was still walking as I neared and it wasn't until the finish corner of the track that I was about to catch him. I thought he might respond; there were certainly people at the finish shouting at him to make a move. But he didn't, so I was able to pass unchallenged and get to the finish line a few seconds ahead of him.

In the excitement I forgot to initially stop my watch and when I did it had clocked 27 hours. I'm then presented with my buckle. Not by Nici Griffith as was the case at TP100, by some guy who I assume was the other half of Centurion Running?

5 - Finished (some more than others it seems)

My skiing pal then comes over to congratulate me and together we head into the sports pavilion, where I order a sausage sandwich. Yes, I suddenly felt very hungry. Whilst I collected my finisher's T-shirt and then eat my sandwich, my ski pal in the meantime pops back outside to watch some of the other runners finish.

I also spot Traviss and Rachel and pop over for a quick chat. I explained that I was a bit disappointed with my time, possibly being on the wrong side of 27 hours, but as they said, I had finish and so got the job done. Not everybody who started did. As it was, I found out later that I had sneaked under 27 hours by half a minute.

Postscript

After saying goodbye I joined my pal who then drove me home. It was good of him to do this as it resulted in a 4 hour round trip for him but he wanted to do. He seemed quite inspired by it all but it wasn't until the following days when he contacted me about running that I realised by how much. For starters he had bought a pair of running shoes and done a couple of 5k runs. I guess if you manage to inspire some one person then how you finish doesn't really matter.

However, regarding the race statistics, of the 264 starters, only 202 made it to the finish and within the 30 hour time limit with 107 of those finishers within 24 hours; overall a slight improvement on TP100. My own time was actually 26:59:28 and this netted me 158 th place, both not as good as my performance at TP100, so much to do in preparation for my next 100 miler; NDW100.

Although I had picked a few blisters in the latter stages of the race, they weren't nowhere near as bad as the ones I obtained at TP100, this was no doubt due to the somewhat drier condition underfoot, but probably also my choice of footwear as I know my trail shoes tend to dry out quicker than my road shoes when they get wet or damp.

Written by Dan Park - http://dan-fattofit.blogspot.co.uk

It was the night before Christmas and all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

Okay so it was not Christmas Eve and in fact not even December. The truth of the matter was i had become so excited about running the South Downs Way 100 that the build up felt like waiting for Christmas. Every day i was counting down the hours and minutes to go. This race was going to be an epic adventure and one to remember. I have been training hard over the last few weeks with the focus being to finish this race. It is no secret that i had a lingering frustration at not finishing North Downs Way last year. In less than a year could i turn everything around? could i go from being under trained and under prepared to capable and ready? and above all would i finish?

So with the race in the offering it was with about one week to go that my excitement peaked. I had made plans with my wife and prepped and ready all of my kit. I would not be having a crew or pacer. It was agreed i would utlilise my drop bags and carry kit essentials with me. My wife would meet me at the finish with our son for a father's day cuddle. We had agreed that i would keep her updated through the checkpoints, but that we would remain confident i would finish.

My plan was to run a steady race and not let myself go out too hard too early. Truth of the matter was i would be happy with a finish of 29hours 59minutes 59seconds. It was getting across that finish line that was to be the goal. An "A Game" race for me would be something around 28 hours.

The weekend started on the Friday. I drove to Eastbourne with my Family and got stuck in the inevitable M25 traffic. I hoped this was not a sign of things to come. We were so delayed that when we finally got to Eastbourne i had to be dropped straight to the station to get the train to Havant. The plan had been to spend some time in Eastbourne with my wife and son. Instead i had to leave them there. So with a kiss goodbye for both, and a promise to my boy that i would see him father's day, i went and bought a ticket to Havant. My friend Sam Robson (@stupid_runner) agreed to meet me from the station and his parents had kindly agreed for me to stay with them the night before. The train journey was thankfully less eventful than the car journey. Upon arriving a Havant Sam was already there with the car to take me to his parents. Better still when i arrived a fabulous dinner was nearly ready. I sat down with Sam and his family to a nice meal and discussions of events the following day. Sam has been knocking on the door of an Ultra win for a while now and his plan was to better his time from the previous year. For me i was all about simply focusing on getting to the finish. Sam's parents were great and with no expectation for me to be sociable allowed me to go to bed almost straight after dinner. This meant i could go to my room and prepare.

In my room i was able to take the time to call my wife and see how she and Finley were. Zoe is by nature an anxious person, but also very supportive. I could tell that she was nervous for me and that she did not want to let on. I promised to be careful and to not put myself in danger. We agreed that Zoe would be my chief correspondent for Facebook and that she would update friends and family (a fantastic job she did as well.) Little did i know that she would step up and beyond this role before the end of the event, but more on that later. So with a final goodnight and see you soon the call was over and i was left getting mentally prepared for the day ahead.

My first plan for the race was to be at the start line feeling completely ready and raring to go. With this in mind i set about ensuring that my bag was packed exactly how i needed it to be. I was so pleased that i had bought a Salomon Slab pack it really is a brilliant piece of kit. I was able to separate my mandatory kit from things i was going to need access to easily. Within about 10 minutes all my kit was in my bag and no simpler than that my race pack was ready. For the next hour it sat against the wall taunting me "have you put everything in me?", "go on check me again.", "what if you have forgotten something?" Fortunately Million Pound Drop was on and so i sat watching this whilst setting about the task of preparing my feet for the adventure ahead.

Whenever i have gone on long runs my feet have always suffered terribly with blisters. The inevitable outcome has been the loss of a toe nail or three and very sore feet. I decided that i was going to pre-tape the hot spots and see if i could limit the damage. So some well invested time saw my toe nails clipped and two toes on each foot taped and ready. With my kit laid out on the floor and an alarm set for 3:30am it was time to sleep. For a brief moment i laid back, closed my eyes and envisioned a night of restless sleep. I say brief because the next thing i new my alarm was going off and i was ready to start the day.

This was going to be one big day and in fact i was surprised by how awake and ready to go i was feeling. A few mouthfuls of malt loaf and we were off to the start. Sam's father kindly gave us a lift to the start. We arrived at about 5am and the start was buzzing. You could sense the excitement and anticipation of everyone there. I handed my drop bags into the van and said hello to Rich (@c3044700) at registration and to James Adams (@jamesradams) I am always impressed that James Elson always looks so in control of his races, but makes time to say hello to everyone and show an interest in how they are feeling. In chatting with Sam it is inevitable that you get to meet new people and this time was no exception. I spent 10-15minutes chatting to Lindley Chambers (@firemannotsam) about his plans. He was coming in off the back of Grand Union Canal three weeks previous. Personally i cant ever imagine running 100 miler three weeks after a 145 mile race.

James Elson grabbed everyone's attention for the the pre-race speech. An important moment for everyone there with James reminding people not to do anything stupid and to remember that there is always another day. I can't explain it, but somehow i knew that today this did not apply to me. I had every confidence that i was finishing this race. I had woken up feeling good my nerves had settled into positive energy and the plan agreed with my wife was fixed in my head (slow and steady gets to the end.) I had lost Sam for about the last 30 minutes as we had both been caught up chatting to various people. We all made our way to the start line being told that we would do just under two laps of the field and then head out on to the South Downs Way. I managed to see Sam just before the start. Wishing each other well it felt like the race could now begin. I settled back into the pack, plugged myself into my earphones and before i knew it we were off.
It was a perfect day for running. We had been told that the rain would chase us but we should be able to run away from it for the whole race all bar maybe the last two hours before cut off. I could not think about this right now and in truth i didn't want to. My plan was to enjoy the race and run from checkpoint to checkpoint. Thinking about running all the way to Eastbourne was just ludicrous. Running round the field really ramped up the atmosphere and i exchanged pleasantries with with the other runners. Coming round the first lap i could see Sam and Robbie off in the distance, both looking strong and both looking like they were out for a stroll. I glanced at my watch and noticed i was doing 9min mile pace (way too fast.) It felt good at the moment, but even i knew that was too fast. I slowed it back and found a pace that felt like a steady jog. We left the field and ventured on to the trails. I had a few conversations with runners and then settled into my own race. My IPOD was on shuffle and i was on a role. There is nothing like the feeling of running in beautiful surroundings. All i could think was that there was a long way to go, but i felt good. The next few miles were a bit of a blur. I was not sprinting it out, but was running the flats and down slopes and power walking the uphills.  My kit choice felt good and i was comfortable and cool. Maybe, just maybe, i could do this. Maybe, just maybe, i could do this well.

 


Before i knew it i was cruising into the first Aid Station. I was not quick, but i was far from slow. I arrived with a smile on my face and set about devouring some salted peanuts and savoury bites (damn the ultra buffet is could.) It was great to finally ,albeit briefly, meet Dawn (@girlyrunner1) in person. She had promised me a bum wiggle for encouragement. She exceeded my expectations by getting the entire crew to bum wiggle. I left the aid station with a massive smile on my face. This is why i love the Ultra Community. Everyone was wanting everyone to finish and for everyone to beat their demons and reach the end. Running out of this checkpoint something inside me just knew, even this early on, that this would be my day. My thoughts turned to reaching the next checkpoint at mile 22. Just a half marathon between checkpoints. Running through some stunning terrain i chatted with a few runners, but was focused on my race. If people were slower i would run away and if they were too quick i would let them go. My plan seemed to be working and i was clicking through the miles without too much conscious effort. I noticed some cramping in my calves and this kept coming and going. I slowed up and took an scap and then carried on. It seemed to help and the cramping subsided. As we worked our way up the climbs a few runners came past me. I was pleased that not as many were coming past as i had expected to. My time on the high incline on the treadmill seemed to have paid off. The climbs did not feel as severe as in previous runs. We hit the down slope approaching the 22 mile checkpoint. I was running low on fluids, but was pleased that i had stuck to plan of using bottles over bladder. I could keep track of what i was drinking and it was making for a smoother transition through aid stations. As the down slope appeared i let the body go and gain pace until i hit the bottom. The grass had responded well to rain from the night before and it was like running on a carpet (sadly not all the race was like this.) We were assisted in crossing between traffic that was arriving into the checkpoint. A short diversion up the trail to a gate, where a young girl rushed to open the gate for me. I smiled and thanked her. I love the enthusiasm such sporting events generate in the public. When then ran parallel with the road and descending over a border, under the direction of a marshall, down towards those glorious Centurion Running Flags. I announced my number and headed for the buffet. I was quickly into a routine of salted peanuts and savoury bites followed by pepsi. I was tucking into the peanuts when i heard "is that Dan?" and from behind me was Ashley (@theMonkeySmokes) We have spoken a few times in the build up to this race over twitter and it was great to meet him in person. I bid him farewell and left the aid station. It was a beautiful day and i jogged out of the aid station and phoned the wife. Assuring her i was ok, bar some soreness at the front of my ankle and that i felt no worse than at mile 13 i promised to call her at mile 50.

 



Jogging down the road it was apparent that i was going to spend the day meeting people that i have only spoken to over twitter. Mary (@cow_phobic) was running up the road behind me. I paused and we spent some time running together and enjoying the weather. Mary is attempting the monster that is the grandslam and was looking incredibly strong. I slowed up to let my calves calm down and wished Mary well as she shot off into the distance, something told me i would not see her again today. I decided that i would put my Skins leggings on at the next checkpoint and hope that this would aid with calf issue. The pace was still good in my leg and i was run/walking with no real time plan, but trusting my body knew what it needed to do. Graham (@GrahamCarterGC) had said he would meet me just after this checkpoint and tho and behold as i dropped out of a short descent there was the big man standing by his car. He promptly greeted me with a hug and opened his boot to reveal what can only be described as Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory. I took a couple of 9bars and a Yorkie. We chatted briefly whilst a stretched my legs. I was on for a 5 hour marathon, this would be above my A game plan. Graham told me that he had been watching the runners coming through and that Robbie (@ultrabritton) had been flying. Graham had not seen Sam come through. I questioned if it was possible that Sam had shot off and was trying to force a pace. I automatically assumed this would be the case and did not conceive that he would have pulled.

 




Running on i was genuinely having a blast. The sun was out and my game plan was working. I was finding that what i liked with the South Downs is that it gave back what it took. What i mean by this is that not far after a harsh ascent there would be a descent. The hills were rolling and i was just trying to keep rolling with them. I arrived at the next aid station, put on my leggings and departed pretty quickly. I was back on the path and running up the trail at a reasonable rate. At this point i was averaging about 5mph. My goal was always just to finish and i did not care if this was 29hrs59min59sec. In truth though my A game plan was a 28 hour race. This left enough contingency for something to go wrong. With this in mind 5mph was way above my scheduled pace.

 



No sooner than i had left one checkpoint the next seemed to appear. Running down a hill i could see the checkpoint, but also the climb after. I motored into mile 35 and gave the wife a quick buzz. She tried to hide it, but was clearly surprised by my pace. I was informed that Sam had to pull due to a knee injury. This was such a shame for him and his aspirations for the race. I had to stay focused on me and so i pushed on through the aid station. The terrain seemed to begin to deteriorate from here. I ran for a bit with Ashley and it was great to share our passion for ultra running. It was clear that this was a make or break race for Ashley and that on his 5th attempt at 100miles if he did not do it then this may be his last. Ashley was looking strong and like me had his own game plan. He slowed and i pushed on we shared an obligatory "see you in a bit" and that was it.
Running on trails is really a joy and there is something very magical about the South Downs. They are so open and exposed and yet the beauty is also breathtaking and awe inspiring. I am not ashamed to note that there were points when i had a tear in my eye. I felt privileged that my body was capable of running this race and allowing me to take all of these surroundings in. I hope one day in the future to be able to run this trail with my boy by my side.
The 40 mile checkpoint is apparently water only, but Rich was there and it was great to chat to him and to be able to enjoy some more salted peanuts and savoury bites. I made myself eat some banana and grabbed a few gels. I set off up the hill out of this checkpoint and pushed on to mile 50. The race was going well and a glowing thought in the back of my head started to emerge "maybe, just maybe, sub 24 hours might be on." I arrived into mile 50 feeling really good and in a time of around 10hours 30minutes. The next stop was Washington where my drop bag would be. I headed back out on to the route and pressed on to the next checkpoint. It was nice to know that there was only 4 miles to the next aid station, my bowels were churning and i was looking forward to a cup of coffee. I got to Washington and grabbed my drop bag. I took out a bottle of mountain dew and drank this pretty quickly. I put my headtorch into my bag and left a lot of the rest. My Jitterbeans were put into my bag, but beyond that i felt like i had everything i needed. Sadly the thought of a coffee turned into a disappointment and my body was clearly not wanting anything warm. I went to use the facilities which made for a much better feeling and i tried to eat something warm.

 


You can see from the image to the left that the warm food was far from agreeing with me. I made the decision to stand up and get moving. I did not want to lose the positive momentum that i had generated so far. I had one look at the white board that showed the ridiculous pace Robbie Britton was maintaining and set about my own task.  It didn't take long for me to find my rthymn again and i still felt really good. I was moving at a reasonable pace and the pain in my ankles had not worsened. I set about tackling the trail and pressing on to the next checkpoint. Eastbourne still seemed too far away to contemplate at this stage.

The day was closing in and i had dropped my head to press on. My next major focus was on getting to Clayton Windmills. I knew that i would be receiving a heck of a reception there as Bryan (@bryanwe), Lee (@leebriggs9) and Max (@maximisemylife) were all crewing the station. That seemed like a good target to focus on. Possibly just possibly a 24 hour could be achieved, but i was right on the cusp. I was running along a narrow path within a field when out of the blue i saw a lunatic waving his arms at me and shouting my name. Now i had been warned that some people hallucinate during Ultra's and mindful of this i gave a second look. Thankfully i was not hallucinating it was one of my best friends Nick. Turns out he had been in Hove and came to find me. This was a massive boost. We ran on at about 11 min miles for the next couple of miles. It was so nice just to be able to chat away the time and enjoy running the down hills. As we approach the 62 mile aid station i saw Lindley Chambers just ahead of me. He had overtaken me some time back and we ended up entering mile 62 at the same time. I paused here to put on my XBionic long speed running top and Montane Minimus jacket. I switched my cap for a buff and felt ready to face the wind and the night on the downs. I was pretty focused at this point and still only just behind the 24 hour target times. Sadly i had not even noticed i was chatting to Mark (@ultraperk) who won the South Downs Way 50. I said goodbye to Nick and thanked him for coming out. On a high i set off on yet another climb. These climbs were becoming tiring but i still felt in good spirits. Further up the road i caught up with Lindley and we walk together for a bit and chatter a mile away. It was clear that Lindley was still suffering from running GUCR. I decided that i was going to push on and with that said was off. The next period of running was great, marching uphill, running flats and downhills. I was feeling really positive and the massive uphills suddenly didnt seem too much of a challenge when i arrived at them. I was so focused on Clayton Windmills that i forgot about the checkpoint before and so imagine my surprise when i was directed into the aid station (although very grateful.) I did not hang about and pressed on to the windmills. With a sense of determination i climbed up the hills past the golf course and had a brief chat with another runner. Suddenly i could see the crest of the hill and it was clear i had made the ascent. I turned to take the detour into the aid station and gave the wife a quick call. I was at mile 70 and only 15 minutes off the projected time for 24 hours. Bryan and Lee were some what surprised when they clocked it was me. To be honest if you had told me at the start of the day i would be at mile 70 in just over 15hours 30mins i would have laughed at you. Bryan grabbed me and rushed me through the aid station. He knew i was still on for 24 and was absolutely brilliant in getting me back out on to the trail. He even went so far as to remembering that i had a small gift from my son in the drop bag. It was for midnight for me to open for my first fathers day. Thanks again Bryan otherwise that would have stayed in my drop bag (its mental things like this that cause people to drop out.)



Pushing on out of mile 70 i was feeling great and so i kicked on into the night. I ran for a bit and ticked off a couple of miles. My ambit had died even with the longest recording settings and so i am assuming the navigation zapped the battery. All seemed to be going fantastic, but anything can happen over 100 miles. The pain in my ankle began to escalate and it got to a point where i was reduced to walking. I hoped it would ease of, but i trudged into mile 76 with my ankles screaming. I sat down with a cup of tea and then remembered Washington. If drank the tea i was going to be violently sick. I stood up and moved. This was a defining moment of this race. I knew i was likely going to have to walk the rest of the race. I could sit on my backside and stay where i was or press on and finish this damn race. I stood up and i marched. Getting just around the corner i tried to assist myself in being sick, this was to no avail, but the act of retching settled my stomache and on i marched. I ploughed on and then opened my gift from my son. It was a really poignant moment and a much needed mental boost.

 



 
The Lucky Sixpence from my son said "a lucky sixpence. A father's day gift for you. To bring you luck in every run you do. Love Finley xx" I had a few tears to myself and then repeated the mantra "Daddy's coming son, daddy's coming." You will only know the drive this gave me if you have a child. My determination was back and although i could not run i could certainly march on and that is exactly what i did. The mythical 24 hours had gone by i knew i could get to the line. I arrived at 83 miles in not too bad a time and said hello to Nici (@LondonNici72) This really was turning into an Ultra community gathering. It turned out that people on twitter were wanting to know how i was going. Nici noted that she would let everyone know i was leaving mile 83. My ankles were shot, but i took on food and carried on. I spoke to my wife and she and i agreed that what i was doing was sensible and that at least this way i would finish. The next gesture was amazing. My wife decided that she was going to join me for the last 9 miles. Fantastic so all i needed to do was push on for another 8 miles and a little over 2 hours.
 

I knew the last 20 miles of the course and this assisted me in blocking out the pain as much as i could. I pounded through Southease to the train station. I was met by a confused runner who asked me where we were and then tried to tell me i was reading the map wrong. Now i had got this far reading the map myself and i knew this part of the course. I explained where we needed to go when he got a call from his friend who was on another side of the station. I trusted my convictions and powered up the hill and there was the beautiful ticker tape. I opened the gate with a smile and looked back for the runner, but could not see him. I hope he made it, but i never saw him again. I then powered up Southease to the top of the downs. This was HARD and nearly finished me off. When i got to the top i paused and thought how much easier it was when i ran it last time with only two or three miles in my legs. Two runners came past and i noted that i was meeting my wife who was bringing pain killers. The generosity of these runners saved me some undue pain as they provided me with some cocodomol. Twenty minutes later and i was able to power walk with minimal discomfort. I could have kissed these runners. I was able to enjoy the adventure once more and just in time for the sunrise to begin. It was a beautiful sunrise and reminded me of what an amazing adventure i was on. This was a nothing short of life changing event.

 The sunrise rejuvenated my energy and my spirits. I really was not far now from the finish just a matter of 14 or so miles. I still had time in the bank and was confident that i could get to the track and avoid a countdown run. I did make the decision that no matter what i was RUNNING around the track, not shuffling, or walking, i was going to RUN.

As i dropped out off the downs approaching Alfriston a man wandered over to me. He was camping with friends and had been watching all the runners coming off in pairs and thought "a lonely runner" might want some company for a few minutes. He told me i was doing amazing and he departed back to his camp. Once again running had brought people together in a way that would never otherwise have happened.

I knew i was close to Alfriston at this point and just a climb and descent to go would see me approaching the 91 mile checkpoint this had me in good spirits and i could barely contain the happiness at this thought. I was tired, but not so tired that i would be falling asleep on my feet. I started the descent into Alfriston and then there she was, my beautiful wife running towards me with her arms in the air. I felt like a soldier returning from a war zone and in this case the war zone was the downs. I was so happy to see my wife and knew now that i would be finishing this damn race. We paced it out to Alfriston checkpoint and i made a quick comfort break and swallowed down some food. It was time to get back out on the road, but this time with some company. My wife was an utter legend she paced me out and kept me at around 3mph. This may not sound like a lot, but with 92/93 miles in my legs and making an 800ft ascent this was a hell of a task. We climb out of Alfriston and marched on. We paused occasionally and took a look around. I could see that Zoe was enjoying the time together and i was over the moon that i got to share some of the experience with her. Previously in 2009 she crewed for me when i did the Devizes to Westminster Canoe Race with Nick (he appeared at mile 60.) These type of experiences, i believe, make us who we are and bring us closer together with the people we share those experiences with. With this in mind it was wonderful to be climbing the hills with my wife. We dropped down into Jevington and knew this was the last checkpoint before the finish and meant ONE more climb.

After a top up of water and a quick bite to eat i was sharply back out the door and on the road. In making the previous climb we knew at the top of this one it was just the descent into Eastbourne and we would be finished. I could not quite believe it but knew it would now happen. There was plenty of time and i was pretty sure i could hop to the finish now if i had to. Thankfully i did not have to test this theory. We got close to the top of the hill and it was now very real. It was time to start enjoying the thoughts of a buckle and shaking James' hand. I had not allowed myself to think about this things until now. It was too tempting to contemplate and so i had just been pushing on, but now i was here nearing the top of Jevington it was time to enjoy these thoughts and the conclusion to this massive adventure. At the top we were rewarded with a beautiful morning view of the south downs. It shows the undulating hills that had been tackled and it is hard to think that i had come

 

 

 



 from over the horizon over several hours ago. When we got to the top of Jevington i saw the spray paint showing a great sight. Yes we were on track and this meant that we were nearly home. Just the small matter of up to the trig point and down the descent. Before this i had to pause to celebrate the achievement that had been made at this point. I had made the last climb and embraced the challenge. At the top of the climb a clear view of the beast that myself and so many other runners had set about tackling at 6am on Saturday morning. It was now approaching 9am on Sunday morning. I wanted to be able to finish strong but knew that i was restricted to walking so my wife and i walked on.

The descent down from Jevington was pretty tricky. It involved a lot of steep descent and was significantly overgrown from the previous recce. My concern was the obscured rabbit holes and nasty tufts of grass. Zoe and i safely navigated the descent and brought ourselves out on to the road We knew family would be at the finish and Zoe turned to me and discussed how amusing it was that so many people were going about their business and had no clue that i was walking up the road on the verge of the completion of a 100 mile race. We got closer and closer and were taunted by the sight of the college, knowing that we had to walk further down the road first. We were met by my father and my mum, niece and the most beautiful sight all weekend, my son. He was sitting in his pushchair and even with me being a tired sweaty mess he smiled and waved and was genuinely excited to see me. BEST FATHERS DAY GIFT EVER! After this emotional greeting we pressed on and saw Zoe's parents waiting for us and waving me in. I kissed Zoe and thanked her (not enough thanks in the world for her coming out), but i had promised myself i was going to run the track. I had not run for over 20 miles, but when i hit that track the legs loosened and i could hear the cheers. I over took one person and then before i knew it there was only 200mtrs left and i opened the tank. I was sprinting, actually sprinting and it felt good. I overtook another runner and powered through the line. It was a state of euphoria. I did not know where i was everyone congratulating me and James Elson shaking my hand and telling me that i had made that look like a track day 200mtr race. I wanted to hug everybody and thank them for their support. My wife was amazing from start to finish and encouraged me every step of the way.

 
 

 

Finley really loved the Buckle. Maybe he will have one of his own one day.




My beautiful family.

So the race was done and it is safe to say i was shattered. I sat down and had a cup of tea and a bacon sarnie. I thanked everyone for coming down to see me. My niece seemed in awe of what i had done and had a million questions. I promise to answer them all when i am a bit more awake :) I briefly saw Mimi Anderson and was going to congratulate her on her Double GUCR, but my brain was awash with euphoria and fatigue. My mate Nick hugged me and told me how proud he was of me. That means so much coming from him and really put this silly adventure into context. I thanked James for a superb event and he asked me if it was good to get the monkey off my back of NDW 2012. He was right it was good. I said to give me a couple of weeks before we think about NDW100 2013, although we are only three days on and i am thinking about this adventure.

In conclusion to this event i finished in 27hours 7minutes. This was 53minutes under my A game target time even with me walking the last 25 miles. I cant describe how chuffed i am. My recovery has been amazingly good and i put this down to the week build up and the careful actions taken post race. I am happy that my reviewed training plan works for me. It involved less back to back long runs, but focuses on quality training. Lets see what happens at NDW100 again my only expectation is to finish. NDW is considered a harder course, so we will see what happen.

Finally thankyou to every crewe member who supported us through aid stations. We were met with nothing but enthusiasm and banta throughout the day and i looked forward to see people at every aid station. Thanks to the cameraman for taking a photo of me with my little family, a memory that were it not for his quick thinking would have been lost. Finally well done to James Elson. This event was flawlessly run from start to finish. The marking was perfect and between the ticker tape and signs it was a clear trail even in the dead of night. I am now an Ultra Runner and i am hooked to these adventures. Once i have time to reflect i will post again about what i thought went well, what i will do differently and what advice i would give to someone in my position.

Thank you to everyone who has sponsored me. If you would like to sponsor you still can by going here

 
 Below are a couple of photos from a couple of days later. One is my audition for Lord of the Rings and the other is a card made by my little boy at Nursery. What a race, what a weekend and what an adventure. See you all at North Downs Way 100 in August.
 

 

My Hobbit feet 24hours after the race.




My congratulations card.


Written by Nicola Hoy - https://nicsjourneyto100.wordpress.com

The road to Winchester (with a bit of a detour)

I’ve said it before and no doubt I’ll say dat again, rocking up at a Centurion Registration is a little bit like going home (or at least turning up at an extended family party or a school reunion).  And that’s just how it felt early on Saturday 10 June when I arrived at Chilcomb Sports Club, near Winchester for the SDW100.

This was my 4th Centurion Running 100 mile ultra.  In 2016 I ran the other 3 Centurion 100 mile races, you can read about those adventures here.  My original plan in 2016 was to run Thames Path 100, that got me hooked and I ended up doing North Downs Way 100 and Autumn 100 too.  Was a bit gutted that I didn’t run SDW100 as well, as that would have earned me the awesome, coveted Grand Slam buckle.  But hey 3 x 100 milers in 5.5 months is not to be sniffed at, especially for someone who’d only been running for a couple of years or so at the time.

I train loads.  My average weekly mileage is around 75 miles (going up when I am in peak training for a race).  I also do a lot of strength training and other exercise, really been working hard at the strength and core, so I do exercise a lot.  Some may say that I run too many miles in training, but it’s not all flat out, it’s a lot about time on feet with me.  You will notice that I am digressing already  I will get back to the race in question soon, but anyone who has read my previous blogs will know that you don’t just get a race report …. you get a bit of background and a chunk of me too …. boring or not! 

I’ve only been running about 3.5 years, in fact I didn’t really exercise at all until I was in my 40s and got the bug for trail running after recovering from foot injuries.  I raised the bar and the distance pretty quickly but now have the bug and really enjoy losing myself for hours on trails or scampering around in the woods.  My first ultra was in 2015, absolutely loved it, made loads of new friends and have not looked back.  I’ve not I have an ever increasing bucket list but my big goal at the moment is UTMB.  Having earned sufficient qualifying points, I entered the ballot for UTMB this year but was unsuccessful.  So I’m hoping to be more lucky next year and run it to celebrate my 50th birthday.

Promise I will get to SDW shortly, just one other little matter to divulge.  In February this year I travelled south west and attempted the Arc of Attrition, a 100 run around the coast of Cornwall.  Unfortunately, after chasing cut off times from early in the race, it wasn’t to be my day and I was timed out of the race.  Getting you head around a DNF is pretty tough, but it happens.  The race was fantastic, I was just too slow and not sure that my head was in the right place.  Anyway, I’ve entered again for 2018 and I will bringing that particular buckle home next February.

So back to the now….. having completed the other 3 Centurion 100s, this was the day to tackle the only one I hadn’t done, 100 miles along the South Downs

Way.  Having registered and dropped my bags, I prepared for the race.  I’d met lots of people at previous races and though the Centurion Running Community FB page, and a couple of them said ‘hi’ as we gathered for James’s pr-race brefing.  The usual sensible instructions;  “follow the course marking”, “look after each other” etc.

And then we were off ….

CENTR-17-SDW100-Start-144

The first 22

It always takes me a while to get settled into a race, getting through the first couple of aid stations is always good.  During the first few miles I had my usual, “why am I doing this” thoughts, but found that I was actually running quite well.  The course was pretty hilly from the off, but I was managing to keep a steady pace.  It’s never about running 100 miles, we break it down, so it’s always about running to the next aid station.

The first aid station was Beacon Hill, at just under 10 miles.  The course was already hilly, so I was getting a taste of what was to come.  But I felt ok and was happy to stock up on food and drink, then quickly push on.

I was running well, chatting to other runners, in particular a guy called Daniel whom I new briefly from Autumn 100.  We were chatting and sharing bucket lists as we ran.  At around 12 miles I took dive!  I always seem to manage to fall in the early stages of an ultra, this time it was through zoning out not looking our for tree roots.  It shook me up a bit, but after a helping hand from Dan and another guy, I was back on my feet, brushed myself down and was again on my way.

The morning was warm, the sun was shining and the ground hard.  The back of my heal was hurting a little …. more about that later!! I was running ok though, happy with my pace for this stage of the race and I reached the second  aid station, QE Country Park – 22.6 in about 4 hours 20mins.  It was good to the first two chunky sections out of the way.


 

Pushing on to 50

Stuart March, the brilliant Centurion photograph, and all round smashing guy, was doing what he does best and capturing our adventures.  It’s not unusual for Stuart to suddenly appear appear from under a bush or be seen laid out on the trail .. always ready to capture an ace shot.  Stu is a great, if you ever need a photographer check him out at Stuart March photography.

I passed through Harting Downs around 27 miles and Cocking at 35.1.  I was sometimes running with Daniel, sometimes with others and sometimes alone.  I saw Andy, a guy I knew from previous races and chatted briefly to him.  The rolling hills were tough and my hip was hurting (I tend to suffer with hip and piriformis tightness) but I still felt strong.  I was making sure that I ate a bit at every aid station, often stopping quickly and taking a little doggy bag with me to see me on my way.  I seemed to be getting the hydration right too, and was managing nutrition and hydration well (possibly my best yet).  But the rolling hills felt never ending and the chalky and lumpy terrain was exceptionally hard on my feet. It was also very hot, and I was beginning to look a bit like a beetroot!  I ran for a bit with a really friendly guy named Roy, he’d run lots of marathons but this was his first 100, we yoyo’d each other for a while.  I crossed a couple of other runners, who seemed to know me from previous races (thinks it’s the purple hair that they remember!).

Somewhere just before Cocking (I think was), I was struggling a little, and having been alternating running and walking, my spirits dropped, just a little!  That’s when I saw Stuart walking towards me, smiling as ever.  He took another couple of snaps and then gave me a big hug and some encouraging words, and I was on my way. That was a big lift!

 

Halfway and beyond

It seemed a long slog to the 50 mile point, Kelhurst Hill Aid Station.  The terrain was lumpy and hilly and the weather hot.  That said, I was still happy and made the halfway point in about 11 hours.  Halfway is always a big boost mentally, as it usually means that you have less to go than you have already done (ish).

Washington aid station (at 54 miles) was in a Village Hall (many of the aid stations are gazebos or farm sheds), and this is where we had drop bags, hot food and proper toilets – so quite a big plus for the mindset.  I managed to pick up speed running into Washington,  which was a sight for sore legs.  The volunteers, as always, were superb, filling my bottles, fetching my drop bag and bringing me food.  I surprised myself with how quickly I wolfed down the hot tomato pasta, this was good as I still eating well and feeling ok.  All too often, stomach issues can end a runner’s ultra race, there’s only so far that you can go on empty.  Despite the relative comfort and happy faces at Washington, I was determined not to ‘take root’ and eager to keep the legs moving.  Head torch ready for when the sun went down, off I set again onto the trail.

If it ain’t broke ……..

……………. DO NOT under any circumstances fix it!!!! 

Ok so the feet!!  Despite only having been running for a few years, I have covered a lot of mileage (my total mileage or 2016 was 4,019), and I’m on track for much of the same this year.  Prior to SDW100 I had completed 5 ultras of 60 miles or more (3 of them 100s), plus all the training mileage.  I am (or was!) proud to say that I had never had a blister from running.  I seemed to have got exactly the right sock / shoe combination for me every time, and despite other issues with the feet (which I will cover another time – too much for this report), I had never had to deal with blisters.  A lot of runners tape their feet in ‘blister prone spots’ or ‘stop to pop’ during the race.  I have always said, that if like me you find the right shoe and sock combination for distance – NEVER CHANGE IT!

So what did I do the week before the race?  Yep that’s right, I decided to wear different trail shoes.  I had run trained in them but probably the longest run in them was about 20 miles (maybe less).  Why did I make this decision … well concern about the hard ground, pre race nerves and basically just a temporary leave of absence of rational thinking on my part!  The result ……… The backs of my heals completed ripped to shreds, with cuts and massive blood blisters …. not a pretty sight when the shoes came off I can tell you.

But back to the race, I could feel a rubbing on the back of my heal from early on.  I did retrieve a small stone and thought that would do the trick, but I could still feel the cutting.  I never take shoes off during a race, although maybe this time I should have done, then I might have discovered and treated the blisters, but I just rocked on thinking it wasn’t that bad really.  The backs of my feet were sore, but this merged in with other foot pain and generally aching legs and hips.  By now the quads were screaming a bit too – South Downs Way is really a collection of large rolling hills!

That Moon!

I kept on pushing, still going ok, but feeling it.  I wasn’t worried about the night drawing in, I actually like night running (particularly in the open countryside of races), and we actually only had about 6 hours of darkness as it was mid June.

Boltophs aid station at 61 miles was a welcome tick as was Saldlescombe Farm at 66.6 miles, where the volunteers masqueraded as devils with their flashing horn headbands 

Roy caught up with me briefly.  I had seen him at Washington and he was struggling with an injury, that was a while back, so he must have put his foot on the accelerator to get to me. On and off through the dark hours I was running with a guy with a lot of races under his belt and who was very good company – ashamed to say I have forgotten his name (but then the brain does take a bit of a mashing on a 100 miler).  There were some lovely ladies too, all ultra runners are awesome.

The night was clear, with an almost full moon. My head torch seemed to be dipping a bit, it probably needed new batteries, but to be honest, I could see well enough and just had to be extra careful at the odd road or woods section.  Most of the terrain was fields or trail, it was very chalky, lumpy and extremely hard on the feet. The bottoms of my feet and my toes were getting a bit sore by now.  I was alternating running and walking.

The moon was bright and it was a beautiful night.

Housedean Farm … pick me up

From Saddlescombe to Housedean was a long section, approx. 10 miles.  My legs were aching and I seemed to be on endless gradual hills.  I’d lost my appetite a bit by now but making sure I kept hydrated.  One foot in front of the other …. getting there!  At Housedean, Paul was volunteering.  I ran most of the NDW100 with Paul last August (part of his Grand Slam), he is a great guy and I knew that seeing him would be a good tonic for me.  I was flagging a bit when I marched into the farm, but wanted a quick turnaround as needed to get to the end.  Paul gave me exactly the boost I knew he would. I never usually drink coke, but in man ultra it is the nectar that draws me to each aid station.  Paul plied me coke and motivational words and off I set on the next section.

That sunrise ….. WOW

The sky was RED, I could see for miles, and it was beautiful.  It is difficult to describe how stunning the sunrise was, and it seemed to last forever.  Some runners took photos and I wish that I had too, but I didn’t take any pics of the stunning views in this race.  A fellow runner, Andy Pumphrey took some absolutely draw dropping shots, which encapsulate the stunning sunrise and also depict the journey of an ultra runner.  Andy kindly consented to me and others sharing his wonderful photos.  Welcome to our world ….

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courtesy of Andy Pumphrey
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Ultra runners
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Awesome sunrise

From Housedean, there was what seemed like another long section to Southease (mile 84 /85 ish).  I was managing to run stretches at an ok pace and I was yo-yoing a few other runners.  I did pace myself on a couple running together, their split of walking and running seemed to suit me.  When I couldn’t run, I tried to march.  My feet were shredded, my quads were screaming.  And still the hills came!

The last 15! …..

If you read any of my race blogs you will see a paragraph similar to this one… the last 15 miles of a 100 miler feel like 50.  By now everything was hurting.  The volunteers at Southease (as with all aid stations) were amazing.  These people give up their time (often as many hours as the runners) to smile at us, fill our bottles, prepare and cut up food and give us the mental boost to keep on going.  I really cannot thank the ‘Centurion Army’ enough, and am actually thinking of volunteering myself … to give something back!

Miles 84 to 91.6 were tough, I was slowing and everything hurt, but spirits were high!  Alfriston aid station at 91.6 was inside.  I arrived there alone and the wonderful volunteers topped up my water and offered me food. By now I couldn’t eat much and I did feel a little nauseous.  I took the opportunity to use a proper toilet, sat on the loo, the next thing I knew I was jolting awake…. I had fallen asleep on the toilet  Not sure if it was for a moment, a few seconds or a few minutes (it couldn’t have been long), but this was a prompt to kick myself out of there and get moving.

With just over 8 miles left, my legs were stiff and everything hurt.  Back on the chalky, lumpy trail, I was sticking to grass where I could.  The downhill sections in particular were killing the quads!  But I kept moving forwards as you do. I was on my own for the last 8 and it seemed like 80, not quite sure how I powered on but power on I did. I have given up working out pace times – brain was mashed! I didn’t stop at Jevington, the last aid station, just logged my number and pushed on … needed to get to the finish, just one 4 miles to go!  During this time the course deviated from the SDW and took me down a narrow trail with a rather rocky and slippery tipping point.  I almost went flying!

Sprint Finish

The last 2 miles were road … what seemed like a never ending shuffle to Eastbourne Sport Ground.  It was strange to be out on a main rain and I was walking now.  Someone shouted from a vehicle window .. it was Roy, he unfortunately had not finished the race but seemed chirpy and told me that the stadium was close.  It didn’t seem close .. that last stretch seemed to go on forever.  My feet were hurting so much!

At last I saw the stadium, and with a lump in my throat entered the ground.  One of the staff called out ‘a lap of the track and you are done’.   I started to march around the track, the distance actually looked daunting.  Everyone was cheering and shouting “Run, come on!” The Centurion staff at finish were ringing cow bells.  Some runners entered the stadium behind me – I heard a shout of “You don’t want those boys to catch you!”.  The finish line in sight, about 300 meters to go I started to run again and actually managed a sprint finish.

Stuart was in front of me snapping away, and he was the first to congratulate me over the line.  Hugs from Nici and co, the wonderful Centurion staff and I was handed my 4th 100 mile buckle.  I had finished in 26 hours 50 mins, which is about the usual time for me.

Recovery..

At the finish I met Tracey, she’s a lovely lady and an Ultra Queen.  Last year she completed the double Centurion Grand Slam (so 4 x100 races and 5×50 races) and this year she is doing the same.  It was great to catch up with her at the finish.

The volunteers on hand, I sat at Eastbourne Sport Ground for some time.  I scoffed down 2 hot dogs and drank a lot of coffee.  I felt weak and cold but taking time to recover helped.  Roy appeared and was fetching me coffee and telling me to keep warm.  Other runners were resting and swapping stories, all of us moving with a slow shuffle when we tried to go anywhere :). Eventually, I ordered a taxi to Eastbourne station and embarked on my journey home.  I caught a train from Eastbourne to London Victoria , it was quite packed (as it goes via Gatwick Airport).  Sitting stiffly on the train, I was aware that I absolutely stank, so goodness knows what the other passengers thought! :).  I was in a lot of pain and very tired but I was happy.  My daughter Natalie met me at Victoria to carry my bags and accompany me on the train from central London to home.  I finally shuffled home and sat down.  Now it was time to prise off the shoes, and that’s exactly what we had to do! At one point I thought my foot would snap off with the shoe!. Socks were a bit stuck to the bleeding blisters, but once all off and once I was bathed, I felt much better!  Despite all this, and the difficulty in walking the next day, all I can think is that I want to do another!

Recovery week has been good, legs eased quickly.  I was training again Tuesday evening, albeit only arms and core. My PT and friend Cam (Jensen Exercise) not only prepares me well but keeps an eye on my recovery. I have continued to improve during the week, and am enjoying exercise. The blister healing has been the biggest issue but they are getting there now.  Lots of walking helped the legs and I’ve done a couple of shortish runs now, taking it easy, so all is well there.

What next .. and final thoughts

I am so proud of my 4 buckles! Ok so it’s not the official Grand Slam, but I now have the full set, and in a fairly short space of time really!

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No matter how tough they are, I want to run another 100 miler soon!   deciding whether to do the NDW100, it’s less than 7 weeks away and I ran it last year.  It’s a tough race but it is my favourite Centurion race, so we’ll see.  Cotswold 100 is another option, or maybe a slightly shorter distance (nah – I want to run 100 miles).  Next year (when I will be 50), I am going back to Cornwall to tackle the Arc – unfinished business, and this time I will return with that buckle.  So lots of training and prep to do for that one.  I am also hoping to get into UTMB, so let’s see what the ballot brings this time.  Lots of options! Watch this space!

As for me, well if there is one thing that I have learned in the last 2 years, it’s that trail running and endurance sport is great for the soul!  I don’t know much at the moment about where I want to be in life, but I do know the I want to be on trails, I want to be outside and I strive to run up mountains.  I’m not a great runner but I train a lot and challenge myself.  I have met so many fantastic people through fitness and running, I’ve made some incredible friendships.

The day I stop enjoying it is the day I stop doing it!  For as tough as this fitness and ultra lark is (and believe me it is tough), I do it to preserve my soul, and it seems to be working.  The post – race downer will kick in at any minute …..  but for now this soul is happy!

Thank you to everyone who supports me