Written by Chris Ellyatt
I have never written a race report before. Fearing that my relative ignorance in the world of ultras will be exposed along with my creative writing skills which haven’t been used since GCSE English Literature, I’ve always read with interest but kept away from the keyboard myself. Unfortunately I was recently informed by ultra-maestro Tom Garrod that it can actually be a very useful tool for analysing one’s performance and highlighting areas for improvement, so here we are!
I completed my first ultra race last summer – a nice rolling 50k near Salisbury, Wiltshire. Having thoroughly enjoyed the experience, I immediately went looking for the next stage in my running progression. As a young, naïve 23 year-old, I decided it would be the North Downs Way 100. Thankfully, having signed up for the race, I suddenly realised that I had not yet even qualified and would require at least a 50 mile race finish before the end of June.
Searching the web for a suitable 50 mile race, the T-Series T60 Night Race immediately caught my eye. Not only did it look like pretty good value, but the race itself seemed perfectly set up to be my qualifier. The profile appeared relatively flat, so I figured it would give me the best chance of finishing, and the fact that it takes place at night would give me a real insight into what those hours would feel like in the 100-miler. Furthermore, the course was actually 60 miles long, which meant that after the inevitable wrong turns I was almost guaranteed to have finished my first 100k!
I got the train(s) from Reigate up to the small village of Radley in Oxfordshire on Saturday 25 June and walked over to the pub. Outside I saw the T-Series banner and a few runners checking through equipment. I was nervous but excited. The weather seemed to be clearing up, but I had never tried anything like this distance before and I had genuine concerns on my ability to even finish the thing.
Registration done, kit check complete, final three visits to the bathroom and a quick call back home meant that the preamble was over and it was time to gather at the start line. I listened as the organiser Shane described the race as more of an adventure than an ultra run. Whenever ultra runners or mountaineers start describing something as ‘adventurous’, the alarm bells should start ringing! Adjusting my expectations slightly at these words, I decided that I would start quite conservatively and try to run with others for as much of the race as possible. This was a decision that, in hindsight, probably made all the difference.
Suddenly it was 8pm and off we all went. I noticed that there was an immediate and noticeable split into two large groups, and despite my conservative intentions I decided it would probably be best to at least keep in touch with the front runners at this stage of things until I could see how the race would develop.
As the first miles ticked away the runners began to find a natural pace and the initial scramble calmed down. At this point I was able to start checking off my usual mental ticklist…
How was I feeling? Good – not overtrained or tired, no aches. What was my nutrition strategy? 200kcal per hour from a mix of granola bars, dried fruit bars and some emergency gels for the end. Hydration? Drink 500ml at each checkpoint and make sure I finished one litre whilst running between them. In addition, I would take a salt tablet every 3 hours (normally this would be more frequent, but at night I felt less salt was required).
It was somewhere just after passing through Oxford that I caught up with two runners, Andy Hughes and Steve Clarke. The pace was now settled and these guys seemed to be doing the same sort of thing I was aiming for. Naturally the conversation sparked up and within a few miles there was an unspoken assumption that we would probably run a considerable amount of the course together.
By the time we reached Checkpoint 1, the field had spread out and we were running alone. I think that this situation intensifies the feeling of dependency you have as a group, so I was very grateful to have the other guys there as it was starting to get dark.
The first mistake of the night happened almost immediately after leaving CP1. Running from the road back towards the Thames Path, some other runners had caught up and were also with us. Unfortunately this led to some navigational complacency on our part, and we followed another runner for a good couple of kilometres down the wrong side of the river before realising that we should have crossed at a lock. With a lack of other crossings and honouring a full completion of the course, we were forced to return back to the crossing.
I must admit at this stage I had some resentment about the mistake – mostly with myself. It did occur to me that I was feeling a lot more competitive about this race than I would have originally admitted, and I was dismayed by the number of other runners who must have overtaken us because of the error. With around 75km still to run, I consoled myself with the thought that it was far from over.
The next section of the course was probably some of the most difficult running I have ever done. We had gained back the places we lost from the nav error and I knew we must be back up in the top 10 somewhere. But the trail had deteriorated completely and we had entered what would later be referred to as ‘The Jungle’. It was so overgrown and wet that the race suddenly felt more like a Vietnam War re-enactment than an ultramarathon!
We had worked well together as a team, but I did start to notice that Andy was having some knee issues and would often drop back a little from Steve and I. By the time we reached CP2, he had clearly made up his mind to do the sensible thing. ‘I’m gonna hang up my gloves’ were his first words to the checkpoint crew as we arrived. I must say that I did feel gutted for him and indeed all of us as I felt we had a strong team. The checkpoint crew offered their persuasion just in case he was dropping out too easily, but it was clear after a quick discussion that he had a real injury problem. Steve and I said our goodbyes and continued into the night.
We realised that we must be a way up the leader board at this stage, but we didn’t actually know exactly where. I was very happy to be doing so well, but the possibility of trying to catch the runners in front did start to occur to me now that there were only two of us. I was genuinely surprised not to have had any major problems during the race at this point, and as we passed kilometre 56 I informed Steve that it was the furthest I had ever run in my life. Steve was great company and definitely helped the cruel morning hours tick away a little faster.
Nutrition-wise I felt very good. I was semi-forcing the dry granola bars down my throat as I never feel super hungry whilst running, but I had stuck to the plan and only experienced a brief spell of nausea at around 60-65k. Before I knew it, the sun was rising, the headtorches were off, and that magical energy-boost which I often hear ultrarunners talking about was indeed starting to take effect.
At around 70 kilometers we ran into Tom Garrod. We actually spotted him going the wrong way and yelled to him until he was with us. It was immediately apparent that something was definitely not going right for Tom’s race, as he was obviously slurring words and told us he felt very sick. Tom had amazing course knowledge and we ran with him for a good few kilometres to soak up some of his information. Fortunately we were very close to the third checkpoint, so Steve and I felt okay about leaving him as we were still running pretty strong.
The sun was now fully up as we arrived at CP3. I wasn’t entirely sure but I figured there was approximately 25k left to run to the finish. Jerry Hunter told me that I looked very fresh, which at that stage in a race is a fantastic thing to hear. He told me that the three leading runners had come through the CP about 15 minutes beforehand, and immediately I felt a squeeze of adrenaline in my chest. I was pretty sleep deprived and trying to work it out. Had I left it too late? As we left the checkpoint I turned it over in my mind…when should I attack? Steve could clearly sense that I wanted to go for it, and he told me that I should do it. It sounds ridiculous but after spending nine hours or so racing in close company with someone, I felt guilty and sad about leaving him. So at kilometre 79 when I decided to go, I told him we’d have a beer at the finish, and went for it.
My strategy here was pretty simple – I would keep checking my watch and try to maintain around 5.00-5.30min/km pace. It was my guess that at this pace I would almost certainly catch them. But navigation was suddenly a lot harder without a second set of eyes, and I became quite frustrated as I went wrong on several occasions.
This was really the first point in the race at which I was starting to really hurt. A recurring problem with my right foot was starting to come back, and my left shin (presumably compensating) was in trouble too. At this point there was little point in dropping out, so I decided to deal with the consequences later.
With about 15k left to run I concluded it was time to break out the gels. I had been cautious about using these too early on in case I started a blood glucose rollercoaster, but since there was 90 minutes of running left, I figured it was time. With some music in my earphones and sugar in my blood, I was feeling pretty happy about the whole situation. I remember thinking how amazing it would be to even finish fourth in my first 100k(ish) race, so I was running very happy with the sun on my back.
With around 8 miles to go, a flash of red disappeared around the trail in front of me. Having not slept, I was just about ready to put this down to imagination. As I turned the next bend, I saw all three leaders ahead of me down the trail. I must admit that the dose of adrenaline at this sight made my entire chest clench tight. I knew I would win it.
I caught up with the guys up front pretty quickly. I think that the respect in the ultrarunning community sets it apart from other sports, so straight away I was sure to ask them how it was all going. They returned the question, and I told them that I felt good. Etiquette aside, I was now competing and didn’t want them knowing that I was starting to hurt. Once the small talk was done, I got my earphones straight back in and put the afterburners on. I wanted to make sure that I got out of sight so there was no chance of anyone chasing me down.
In the last 10k I called my girlfriend to find out how much time I had put on the guys behind. The GPS tracking system was somewhat difficult to read, and she just told me I was doing really well. For some reason I was now doubting that I was really winning, and I asked her to tell me what position I was in. I told her I thought I was winning, which led to some confusion as it turned out that the CPs and finish line were being counted as competitors!
We eventually worked out that no-one could be ahead of me. I was in real pain by this stage and I was extremely grateful for some much-needed words of encouragement. To my intense frustration I got lost again with barely a kilometre to go! The river was nothing more than a trickle of water as this stage and I kept convincing myself that I had followed a random tributary in the wrong direction. I got to the gate at the end of a long field, crossed the road….and what was this? Three people were walking towards me clapping.
I’m pretty sure I was grinning the whole time as I ran across the final field with the stone in sight. Trying to seem as chilled as possible, I asked the three strangers if I was going the right way for the pub. I’m not sure it was convincing. At exactly 07:47 I touched the stone at the source of the River Thames, and looked around in astonishment, having won the T60 Night Race.
Yet again the volunteers and organisers were right at hand to offer me a chair, food, fluids and a warm jacket. I must say that the community I discovered at this event made me so grateful to have been a part of this race, and I have made some friends who I am sure I will be in touch with for long into the future. I received my medal and waited to see the three guys behind me over the line. They ran a fantastic race and I admire their consistency, which is something I would like to achieve at the NDW100.
Thanks again to everyone at T-Series Racing, particularly Shane and Trudi for answering all of my infuriating emails prior to the race. You guys are awesome and I can’t wait to be back next year. Congratulations to everyone who toed the line – great effort!
That said, there was some joking about winning entry to the T184…so I might see you all again sooner than I thought!