I've been meaning for some time to start writing a few words about my running - races, training, nutrition, motivations and related bits, but never seemed to get around to it. I think this is mainly due to the fact that as an unspectacular and average, middle-of-the-pack runner I wasn't so sure that anyone would be that interested in reading it.

My experience last weekend running the South Downs Way, however, was so incredible that it has finally kicked me into gear to write something, hoping that I might be able to share at least a small amount of the feeling generated by running this amazing event. I'm hopeful that this may help to inspire some to give it a go and others to understand why I love participating in a sport which many consider crazy.

I arrived in Winchester around midday on Friday 10th June and checked into my hotel room at the Royal Winchester. I'd grabbed some food on the way, trying to chose things that would give me a bit of a carb based glycogen boost for the following day without causing my stomach any issues. I suffer with IBS, so I'm aware that some foods cause me more stomach issues than others, and this has been significantly highlighted during ultras in the past. With that in mind, I'd picked up possibly the most middle-class lunch ever of freekeh and quinoa salads, which I knew I could stomach without issues.

I spent the afternoon exploring Winchester and doing a bit of shopping to try and pass the time and keep myself from thinking too much about what was in store for me the following day. I also managed to sneak in a couple of hours nap, which was a relief as I was pretty sure I'd fail to get off to sleep that night.

Late afternoon/early evening I got my mandatory race kit together to head down to the race start to register, but before doing so I headed down to reception to try and book a taxi for the following morning. As Winchester's a pretty small city all the taxis for 5am on Saturday had already been booked (lesson for next time, and I can't say that Centurion didn't warn us in advance - book well in advance!). I was determined this wasn't going to stress me out though though, as I was pretty sure I'd find a way to get to the start and at worst it was only about 1.5 miles to walk there. Having said that, I didn't really want to put any extra distance in my legs the following morning before even starting. Fortunately a fellow SDW100 runner, Martin, came into reception (it was fairly easy to tell that he was a runner with his Salomon race vest on!) and he mentioned that he had a spare place in his taxi for the following morning. Result.

Martin and I took a walk down to the start for registration. It was really good to chat to a fellow runner who had run in 100 milers before and my big fear of the following day, running through the night, was something that Martin was really looking forward to, saying that the lift you get when the sun starts to come up is really something. That set my mind at rest a bit, as I'd been worried that whilst I'd trained running in the dark with a head torch I hadn't trained for running the entire night, and especially not after having been running for 14-16 hours. It was also reassuring to chat to someone who had similar goals for the following day, hoping to come in under 24 hours and I found out at this point that there was a different buckle for sub-24 finishers as there was for others, which kind of stuck in my mind. In truth, my absolute dream goal was to finish sub-24 hours but I held very limited hope of it actually happening. I knew how tired I'd been at the end of SDW50 a couple of months before where I'd finished in about 10 hours 30 mins and had considered pulling out of the 100 as a result. So I thought I'd be struggling to maintain any sort of decent pace by the end of the race. If, indeed, I got that far, 100 miles is after all quite a long way to run. Realistically, my goal for the race was just to finish within the 30 hour cutoff. Anything better than that would be a massive bonus.

Whilst chatting away, we managed to completely miss the turning into the field for registration. It was only a couple of minutes walk back and it was easy to see how we'd missed it as the field was accessed through a relatively small gap in the hedge. At least I'd now recce'd about 200 metres of the first half of the course though, as I'd only had a chance to recce the second half of the course during training!

Arriving at registration made everything hit home. This incredible challenge was going to be here very soon. Kit check and registration passed without hitch and only took a few minutes and I made my way back to the hotel, trying to keep my nerves and excitement in check. It had been good to meet and fellow runner and have a bit of a walk to stretch the legs, but now I just wanted to grab some food and get an early night. I did about an hour's worth of stretching, ate dinner and frantically packed and repacked my race pack and drop bags for the following day and set out my kit for the morning. I tried my best to get off to sleep at around 8.45 but, as expected, my mind was whirring round so much thinking about the following day that it took me until at least 10.30pm to get to sleep. The next thing I knew it was 4am and my alarm was going off.

Game time. I was surprised by how calm I felt, and even though it'd been a short night's sleep I felt well rested. I'd been working hard for 6 months towards this day and had trained well the majority of the time so it was actually a feeling of relief that it was finally here. It had been the only thing I'd really thought about for the last 2-3 weeks. I wolfed down as much breakfast as I thought I could stomach (chia seeds with almond milk, banana and berries - my breakfast of choice before a long run), put copious amounts of vaseline on the bits likely rub (I'll leave that to your imagination!), taped up nipples (you only forget to lube/tape up your nips once before a long run and the lesson is learnt for life) and got into my kit for the day. I felt great, it's finally here!

Ready to go, I went to zip up my overnight bag, and as I was doing so the zip split. On trying to drag the zip back to the start to get it back on track, the whole zip came off. Damn! This is the sort of thing that would usually really annoy me (especially in a sleep deprived state), but this morning I just thought "if this is the worst thing that happens today, then that's pretty good going!". I was determined not to waste energy on something as trivial as this and hoped I'd be able to sort something out at reception. As it turned out I was able get a bin-liner to put it in, classy.

*Note, I can't have been as calm as I thought I was, as I since discovered that there were two zips on the same track on the bag, so I could have just used the other one!

I grabbed my bags and headed down to reception. Another runner who was waiting outside (apologies, I don't remember your name - I'm going by the excuse that it was still 5am in the morning and I was feeling a little bit nervous) offered me a lift in her cab, and as Martin's cab was already pretty full I accepted the kind offer. The taxi driver asked us "so how far's your run today?" and when we told him we were planning on running 100 miles to Eastbourne he seemed pretty lost for words but wished us luck. We arrived at the start and I wished my fellow runner the best of luck and proceeded to try and get my head straight, ready for the long day ahead.

I saw I couple of guys from the Bosh Facebook group I'm a member of, Kevin and Nick and went to have a quick chat before the start. I also had the chance to speak briefly with Jess Gray, a fellow Bosh member and all-round incredible runner who'd won the SDW50 a couple of months previously and with whom I'd spoken with once before at the start of my first ultra, London to Brighton Challenge in 2014 which ended for me at 80km of the 100km race. Whilst that race ended badly for me, the memory has been incredibly important to draw on mentally in subsequent races. Indeed, one of my mantras for today was that "nothing could hurt as much as not finishing would", drawing heavily on that memory of L2B. We all wished each other well for the day, and started heading towards the start.

I bumped into another runner Brandon, who I'd met at the Three Forts Marathon in May, and his friend Martin and had a quick chat. Brandon has done many 100 milers, and chatting to him at Three Forts and throughout SDW100 really helped me mentally and helped give me the belief that I could do it, thank you Martin!

James Elson of Centurion called the runners to the start where he gave us our instructions for the day. He talked about how everyone should take care of each other on the course and that we should all follow the red and white markings, not the markings to the village fete which the leader of the race had done a couple of years previously after 90 odd miles! On the course during in the day, I'd get to see quite how much the runners do take care of each other out there. It's quite simply an amazing group of people that take part in this event, not to mention those that support and organise it.

Before I knew it, we were counting down to the start and then off doing a lap of the field before heading out on to the South Downs Way. It felt so good to finally be running, and I tried my best to settle into a sensible pace. I tried to run at a pace where I didn't feel like I was putting much work into it. Every time I felt like my legs were working too hard or that I was breathing too heavily, I dialled back the pace until it felt relatively easy again. At this point of the race there were frequent, but not at all steep, hills. We all slowed to walk the uphills, which at this early stage of the race I found a little frustrating, although I certainly wasn't going to get carried away by running them so early on. I've learnt the hard way that pushing hard early on can pretty much only end one way for me. There was a fine, cool drizzle in the air at this early stage and the temperature was just about perfect for endurance running and I was hopeful it would stay this way for the rest of the day.

I trotted along, keeping as light on my feet as possible and before I knew it we'd reached the first aid station at Beacon Hill. I didn't really feel the need to eat anything at this stage, so just got a top up of my water bottles by one of the many great Centurion volunteers and got going back on the trail as quickly as I could. I knew that the next aid station, around 13 miles away, would be where my family would be waiting for me and I was really excited to see them all. It's an odd thing in a race like this, but 13 miles feels like it's just round the corner so I felt like I'd see them in a couple of minutes, which put a bit of a spring in my step.

During the next couple of hours on the way to Queen Elizabeth Country Park (QECP) though, the refreshing drizzle that had accompanied the start of the race stopped and the temperature was steadily rising. Still, I felt good and concentrated on trying to keep running light on my feet. As I got nearer to the QECP checkpoint, my toes and in particular my big toenails were feeling a bit painful where they had been hitting the end of my shoes. The socks I was wearing were relatively thick and my feet were incredibly hot and sweaty (and possibly a bit swollen as a result), so I decided I'd change my socks at the checkpoint as a priority. I'd packed a slightly thinner pair in my backpack, as I'd had a similar issue a couple of times previously running in these socks during a couple of training runs, but other than this I felt great.

Before long I was entering QECP, and was looking out for my family straight away. I checked my phone, and saw I had a message from my wife - she'd managed to forget the bag of food that I'd prepared. For the last few miles I'd been really looking forward to having one of the sushi wraps I'd prepared (just rice, miso and nori, I wasn't going to risk raw fish in the middle of a 100 miler, I'm not crazy!), so I was initially a bit disappointed but not for long. I was determined not to waste energy on getting wound up by something so insignificant and knew that I'd be able to find plenty to eat at the checkpoint. I hadn't realised that there was quite such a distance between entering QECP and the checkpoint, so it was another 10-20 minutes or so until I reached it, but turning round the corner I spied them and had an immediate boost. It was great to see how excited the little ones were - my daughter Kaia, son Theo, nephew George and niece Ronnie, and they'd made some awesome signs and flags for me, one with an awesome message from my son Theo. My favourite bit of the message is "100 miles? how?", which is a bloody good question! In case you can't read the rest of the message in the image, it says "Dad keep on going you are doing so well. I will be so proud of you when you have done it. In my mind it would be impossible. Well done."
What an awesome support team! I didn't hang around for too long though, as I still had the small matter of around 77 miles left to run. I had a chance for a quick chat with my everyone before heading over to the aid station to refill my bottles (I'd emptied both 500ml bottles by now as the conditions were pretty hot and muggy by this point) and excitedly picked away at the amazing array of food that is provided the well-stocked Centurion aid stations. In my excitement at devouring about 3 peanut butter and jam wraps (seriously, just the best thing ever!) I managed to completely forget to say hello to Graham Carter, who had started the '2016 South Downs Way 100 - First Time 100 Mile Runners Chat' Facebook group and which had been a great help in preparing for the race. So, firstly thank you Graham for setting that up to help first-timers like myself and secondly thank you for being one of the incredible Centurion volunteers (seriously, Centurion volunteers are quite simply some of the nicest people I've ever had the privilege to meet, both during SDW50 and SDW100 and I can't wait to volunteer myself at Wendover Woods 50 in Autumn) and finally sorry that I got distracted by food and didn't say hi!

At the QECP aid station, I also overheard a conversation between Shelley Harris and one of the volunteers, who I'd been running with on and off since near the start of the race, about the reason that her and her partner Mark were running with it being a year to the day that they had lost their daughter. I have to say that what they were doing and the reasons for it really stayed with until the end of the race and I am in awe of their strength and courage - truly inspirational.

On the way out of the aid station, I bumped into John Fitzgerald, another Bosh member, who was also volunteering. As I passed, he said "I'll see you again in Alfriston later on" and while I was hopeful I would, I knew deep down that it was still about 77 miles from there. As a result, I had a quick thought about the big journey I still had to make.

There was a long walk-climb through a forest away from the QECP aid station - a pattern that seems to be repeated from most checkpoints - and it was very hot and sticky. Being within the forest meant that the humidity hung in the air and there was absolutely no breeze whatsoever to cool you down. It was very hot indeed, and I also realised that I'd failed to change my socks, what with the excitement of seeing my family and peanut butter and jam wraps. I decided that I'd better stop and do it now before it became a bigger issue, so found a spot to sit down. Immediately after doing so, my feet felt so much better and I noticed how much more room my toes had to move around and was confident that I stood a much better chance of retaining my toenails.

The next aid station was only around 5 miles away and it was only about another hour or so I got there. I'd managed to empty both my water bottles again in this time as the conditions were getting hotter. I'd made sure that I was getting regular S!Caps down to ensure that I wasn't losing too much salt, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep well hydrated and I'd started to notice that my pee was darker than it ought to be. I made sure at Harting Down aid station to take on as much water as I could before heading out on the trail as a result.

Around this point I began to feel pretty terrible though, and quickly got into a circle of negative thoughts in my head. As it wasn't yet 30 miles through the race, thoughts like "if I feel this bad, this early on, then how the hell am I going to manage another 70 odd miles" kept on going round in my head and whilst I was trying my best to concentrate on more positive thoughts, I was really struggling to turn it around. Every time I tried to distract myself with more positive thoughts, a negative one seemed to immediately override it. I spent almost the entire distance between Harting Downs and Cocking aid stations in this low spot and found it really difficult to get moving at any decent speed on the flats and downhills, but kept plodding along as best as I could, listening to music to trying and maintain some sort of tempo and rhythm when running.

I was still feeling really down as I approached the Cocking aid station at 35.1 miles and conditions were absolutely sweltering at this point. My amazing support crew was out in effect here and I got a real boost in seeing them again and in truth the thought of seeing them again had been one of the few things keeping me going for the previous 5 or 6 miles. I tried my best to hide the fact that I was feeling pretty crap, but I'm pretty sure it was clear I wasn't in great shape and that I wasn't looking particularly strong. I stayed a bit longer with everyone here than I had back at QECP, and it felt like it helped in pulling myself together. I mentioned that my dream goal of sub-24 hours was pretty much gone already, as I was finding the conditions such tough going, but I was determined to finish. I think this was as much to reassure myself that I could still do it as anything else though. I downed a bottle of water with an electrolytes and realised just how thirsty I'd been as I did so, grabbed a couple of Clif bars and headed up the hill to the aid station to grab some bits of food and top up water bottles. One of the volunteers at the aid station asked how I was doing, and when I told him that I'd been really struggling with the conditions and wasn't feeling great, he told me that they'd had quite a few people drop here. For some reason this made me feel better about the fact that I'd was struggling, knowing that I wasn't alone in that, and I set off from Cocking and started marching up the hill away from the aid station.

By the time I'd completed the climb up the hill I was beginning to feel stronger and more positive then by the time I set about running the first downhill I had a real sense of euphoria. I allowed myself to 'do the airplane' and let out a few loud whoops. It was a truly strange how quickly I'd gone from feeling really down in the dumps to feeling on top of the world. No matter how many books, race reports and articles you read telling you that this can and often does happen multiple times in a single ultra, it's difficult to believe that this is true until it happens to you. I knew that this feeling wouldn't last for long, but I was determined to enjoy it whilst it lasted and was so relieved that I'd come through a long difficult spell. I thought to myself that I needed to hold onto this feeling for when I inevitably got to hard moments later in the race.

Feeling suddenly so good again, meant that the 6 miles between Cocking and the next aid station at Bignor Hill passed within the blink of an eye. Having said that, it was incredibly hot. When I was approaching the Bignor Hill aid station I saw another runner was having a jug of water poured over his head, and thought "I'm having some of that!". I also spotted Brendon and Martin who were just leaving the aid station. Only an hour or two earlier I'd thought I'd seen the last of them for the day and that had no chance of catching up with them again (actually I'd wandered whether I still had any chance of completing the race), so this reinforced the fact in my mind that I'd really turned things around - for the moment at least.

I grabbed some food, and asked if I could possibly have a bit of a "shower" too. I have to say, the feeling was one of the single most pleasant things I've ever felt. It was very cold which I'd usually find extremely unpleasant, but it helped so much in cooling me down and also made me aware of quite how hot I'd been. I doused my cap in water and headed off. It wasn't long after leaving the aid station that I was back up to boiling point again, but it had been great to cool down for a short while. I was still feeling great at this point despite the heat, and before long caught up with Brandon and Martin on the downhill towards the Arun valley and stayed for a short while to chat. I was feeling really good though so pressed on, suspecting that they'd catch me back up before long (I knew there was still a very long way to go and that I would have some more peaks and troughs).

I was concentrating on getting to Amberley, where I was due to meet up with "The World's Most Awesome Support Crew™ (TWMASC)". I got chatting with Barrie Duerden, who I recognised as the genius who's jug-of-water-over-the-head idea I'd copied back at the previous checkpoint, and it was really nice to have some company for a few miles to talk about previous races and hopes for today. Barrie was hoping to better his previous best in this race of around 25 hours, and still thought it was possible to break 24 hours from where we were. The thought of breaking 24 hours hadn't really crossed my mind much during the race so far, but as we weren't too far from half way and running with someone who'd run a lot of 100 milers and mountain races I allowed myself to dream a little, but didn't let myself get carried away. We reached what I thought looked like Amberley, but couldn't see "TWMASC™" anywhere so thought I must be mistaken. However, as I got to a stupidly steep hill, I realised that this was the start of Kithurst Hill, as I'd run this a couple of times as my in-laws live in Storrington, not to far away from here. I was a bit disappointed not to see them, but knew the next aid station wasn't too far, so sent a message to them to let them know that I was on my way up towards the aid station. They hadn't thought that I'd be able to reach Amberley so quickly, so I assumed that 1) I'd looked in pretty bad shape back at Cocking and 2) I'd managed increase my pace well since feeling rubbish.

Barrie seemed like a man possessed with the way he attacked Kithurst Hill, and I let him go ahead in front, as there was no way after 50 miles that I was going to try and match that pace uphill! I love the view from here though, and I knew that I was approaching the halfway point and would definitely see "TWMSC™" soon. It's funny how your memory can do strange things to you though, as I'd thought that the climb wasn't too far to the top, but at this point it seemed to go on forever.
At about 5pm I reached the top, with some brilliant support from "TWMSC™" and some of the awesome Centurion volunteers. My sister-in-law, Amanda, and niece and nephew weren't here though as George had managed to leave his iPad in the pub where they'd all had lunch (mmmmm, pub.... the idea of a pint at this point of the race was almost too good to be true). I'd reached the halfway point in about 11 hours, which meant that I thought I had a half-decent chance to get in under 24 hours, although I was certain that I'd slow down significantly in the second half of the race.

I was irrationally excited at the aid station at seeing more peanut butter and jam wraps - seriously, how good after running 50 miles?! I filled up one of my water bottles with water and electrolyte and the other with water and got a hug from Kaia and Theo, wishing me luck for the rest of the race as they were to go home for dinner from here and then to bed. I'd been worried before the start that I'd be tempted to call it a day here and head back to my in-laws, but I felt great and so said bye to everyone and pushed on up the hill. It was only 4 miles until Washington, the first checkpoint with drop bags, so I was keen to push on to there as I knew I had a fresh top to change into. It was cooling down a bit now in the early evening and I was looking forward to getting out of the top that I'd clearly sweated bucketloads into today!

Along the top of the hill, I felt I was running strong and would be in Washington before I knew it, then suddenly BANG. I felt like I'd been shot in the inside of the knee, and almost fell down with pain. Oh no, please no, this is bad and I've never had anything like this before. This is the end, I thought, absolutely gutted! I was feeling so strong and just couldn't believe this had happened. I tried to walk, and it didn't actually hurt so bad, so I started running easily - no, that hurts a lot. I walked it for a couple of minutes, trying to feel out if it was worse in certain different positions, but couldn't really tell. So I tried another little trot, and it was excruciating again. After a few attempts at running, however, I found that if I angled my foot towards the inside, the pain was much reduced and I was able to continue running. After a couple of minutes I could barely feel it, although every time my foot straightened out it was painful. I was confident that I could continue though even if it meant running in an odd way. Result!

It was difficult going downhill with my new strange running technique, but I knew that the Washington checkpoint wasn't too far off so carried on plugging away. Before long I was jogging into Washington, and said a quick hello to Scott, who I'd met at Three Forts and who would be pacing Brandon and Martin later on, and made my way down to the checkpoint.

I took advantage of the proper toilet facilities available and doused my face with cold water before going to grab my drop bag. I retrieved my head torches first, as I couldn't possibly leave the checkpoint without those, then searched my bag for my change of top. Nowhere to be found, only a base layer. With the weather forecast having predicted conditions to be much cooler today, I'd only packed a long-sleeved compression top here, as I assumed that I might need it due to cooling temperatures at this stage. Oh well, again I'm not going to let something so insignificant get to me. I passed up the offer of hot food - partly as I was still feeling quite warm, partly as pasta doesn't always do good things to my stomach, but mainly I'd reached this checkpoint (54 miles in) in just under 12 hours, so was keen to get going again as soon as possible and give everything I had to push towards Eastbourne and give myself a chance to make the finish in under 24 hours. I grabbed a couple of wraps, downed some flat coke and headed out the door and back on my way.

This is a section of the course that I've run a fair few times, so I felt comfortable that I knew what to expect for the next 15-20 miles, and I seemed to reach the top of Chanctonbury ring before I knew it. I started on the way down the hill, but my stomach started playing up and knew from previous experiences that I didn't have too long to find somewhere to do something about it. I also knew that on one of the previous times I'd run up here I'd had the thought that "this wouldn't be a great place to have to find a bush", so was a little bit concerned. A little way on, I managed to find a hedge that I thought I could conceal myself in. Just as I was backing in (I'm sure this cuts a beautiful mental image!) though, someone walked past and I had a thought that this must be a pretty strange thing to come across during a nice peaceful walk up on the downs. Still, I had no choice as my stomach was doing somersaults so as soon as this lady was further from view, I continued my reversing maneuver into the hedge and was able to deal with the matter. It's fair to say that this was not my finest moment, but it was a massive relief and I was able to hit the trail again and make my way down towards Botolphs. I was starting to feel very tired but the thought of sub 24 was really spurring me on to keep pushing as much as I could. I also knew that there was a long climb to come from Botolphs up to Devil's Dyke which is almost entirely non-runnable so I was keen to take advantage of the downhill and flat terrain whilst possible.

I arrived at Botolphs at about 7.50, just shy of 14 hours into the race. The awesome Centurion volunteers topped up my bottles and I grabbed a few bits to eat, as well as some extra some bits to eat on the climb up to Devil's Dyke. I sent my wife a message to say that I was just leaving the aid station as I was due to meet her at the top. I've found this climb to be pretty hard going in the past, as it's a long slog uphill. I realised that the England Euro 2016 match was just starting so I tried to get the commentary streaming on my phone, but anyone who's spent any time in this area of the world is probably thinking "why did you even bother trying?!", and it didn't take long before I gave up. On the first part of the climb, I was overtaken by a couple of mountain bikers, who gave some words of encouragement as they passed. It wasn't long though before one of them wasn't able to cycle the steep and uneven terrain, and I quickly overtook him back. It felt pretty good to pass someone who I knew hadn't been running for 60 miles or so, and I really had to hold myself back from saying something really dickish!

The tarmac on the way up to the YMCA and radio masts was a welcome relief from the uneven chalk ground that forms the majority of the route, but I was unable to run here very much unlike I'd been able to in SDW50 and Three Forts Marathon, but I wasn't too despondent about that as I knew there was still a way to go to reach the top of Devil's Dyke. The short downhill section after the radio masts felt great though, and I was shocked to feel so fresh after 60+ miles. Just before the bottom of the field I met another runner who didn't seem in a great way, however. I tried my best to say that it's possible to come through the other end, as I'd felt truly awful earlier on, but he didn't seem optimistic. It seemed more of a "mechanical" than my "feeling-a-bit-rubbish-and-sorry-for-myself" issue though and I knew there wasn't a lot I could do to help, so when he said that I should press on, I did as I was told. I wished him all the best and genuinely hope that he was able to get through it, but it was a stark reminder to me that it could quickly change for me from the good place I was currently found myself in.

Devil's Dyke is one of my favourite spots on the South Downs Way, and I was lucky enough to experience a stunning sunset whilst climbing up here.
I powered my way up to the top as quickly as I could, growing in belief all the time that sub-24 was possible. I sent a message to my wife when I could see the pub to say that I'd be there fairly soon. Of course, the reception being what it is around here, she didn't get this message right away so when I did get to the top, she wasn't here. Never mind, again I thought "this isn't going to affect me today"! I called her and she said that they were coming from the car park as quickly as possible, and I almost set off towards Saddlescombe Farm as I knew there was a car park down there, but some of the other supporters told me that the car park they were coming from would be near the pub, so I quickly headed off in that direction. I met my wife and mother-in-law about 50-100 metres up the road, and declined anything from my food bag again (I'd basically made them carry this heavy bag around all day, taking just two small bottles of water from it, a couple of Clif bars and some home-made energy balls and there was A LOT more in it than that - sorry for that!!). I said that I now had it in my head to go for sub-24 and they both told me that they thought I could do it, and with that I was back on my way, with a bit of a spring in my step, full of belief that that sub-24 hour goal was possible. I genuinely couldn't believe how fresh my legs were feeling.

Before I knew it I was at the Saddlescombe Farm aid station, which was a short 1 mile downhill from Devil's Dyke. A quick use of the facilities, some more wraps and flat coke and I got my head-torch out and ready to use for the next section as it was starting to get pretty dark now. I left Saddlescombe Farm and power-walked my way up the hill as quickly as I dared. Once I arrived at Pyecombe Golf Club (about 2 miles from Saddlescombe) the head-torch was really needed, but I felt really up for the night time section as the move into night had brought with it a welcome drop in temperature. I had an odd thought that the kinder climatic conditions would allow me to up my pace (I obviously wasn't thinking too clearly after nearly 70 miles of running).

As I approached the aid station at Clayton Windmills, I took a look back at where I'd come from, and the sight of a line of torches coming down the hill was truly a thing of beauty. The journey along the South Downs Way is full of stunning scenery and there are many images that will stay with me for a long time, but this was something that you'd never have a chance to see outside of this race and it will stay with me for a long time.

On arriving at the aid station at Clayton Windmills, I retrieved my second drop bag, and excitedly got out the fresh t-shirt that I thought I'd been after at Washington. I also decided to put on a base layer, as the temperature had dropped a fair bit and there was quite a fresh breeze. This was the first aid station I'd reached in the dark and it was certainly a bit surreal. But as I was still feeling fresh I refilled quickly and grabbed some chunks of cheese for fuel (like pretty much everything else that day, they tasted unbelievably good!) and set off into the night time towards the next aid station at Housedean Farm, around 7 miles down the road.

I don't really recall much about this next section with it passing without incident and still feeling fresh. I did question my choice of putting on a base layer though, as I was still having to drink loads to keep hydrated and was feeling very warm. When I reached the downhill section to Housedean, I became aware of a stone in my shoe which I was keen to get sorted asap, but as I knew that the Aid Station was just around the corner I decided I could wait until I reached there to sort it. I got into the aid station and got a refill of water and grabbed some coke (I never, ever drink coke in normal daily life, but it was tasting so good and giving me a lift, and if you can't have it during a 100 mile run then when can you?!). I headed over to a chair to sort out my shoe, sat down and realised that it felt SO GOOD. Beware the chair! I'd read those words in so many places before the race, and now I understood why. I realised that I was sat next to a guy who I'd met in the return coach at SDW50. I'd been ready to pull out of SDW100 by the end of SDW50 as I'd had such a hard time, but my chat with this man (I'm really sorry, I don't know your name!!) had been really helpful in convincing me to double my efforts in training and take it as a wake up call, so thank you. He was going through a hard time himself at this point, but said to me "oh, you're still within 24 hour pace". I'd been relaxing into the chair, as my flawed calculations on the way into the checkpoint made me think that I was well within 24 hours pace. The Centurion volunteer sat with us then confirmed this, saying that they expected 24 hours finishers to come in in about 20 minutes. Hearing this, I basically just jumped up from my chair and started going. I'm really sorry, I don't think I said goodbye, good luck or anything and just legged it, but I was worried having thought that I was about an hour inside target and knowing that 20 minutes is very easily lost when so fatigued.

Shortly after Housedean is a mammoth climb, which had really torn me to pieces in SDW50 but I kind of felt like I was being chased now, so pushed really hard all the way up here. By the top of the hill, I'd started needing to pee about every 2 minutes, but managed to perfect my walk-wee technique to save time. Apologies to anyone who was able to see this from behind with my head-torch. I'm pretty sure it would make for some amusing viewing.

I think the fact that I couldn't really see the climb helped me, as before I knew it I was up on top of the hill and running along the ridge. It was a beautiful site up here, looking down at the lights of the roads and houses below and I was able to keep what felt like a good pace. I'd started the climb up the hill with a guy on his mountain bike who was out supporting his friend and towards the end of the ridge he caught back up with me. This was a good time for this to happen, as it wasn't really clear to me which way to go from here. I knew I needed to head diagonally off to the right, but it really wasn't very easy to see there the path was, so when he said "if you see me coming back then you know it's the wrong direction" I was relieved as I didn't really have to think very much and could just follow the bike lights disappearing into the distance. The lights gave me direction just long enough to get to an area where I was next to a fence and able to follow the Centurion markings, and carried on plugging away.

I reached the long downhill road section, and even though I remembered this section clearly from SDW50, I kept on questioning myself whether I'd gone the right way, as I hadn't seen one of the red and white Centurion markers for quite some time. Eventually I saw another marker and this gave me the confidence to push on. I really felt like I was flying at this point, pushing as hard as I could and I felt like I'd run a really good section of the race and must now be able to think that sub-24 hours was within reach. I thought that the Southease Aid Station was just around the corner, but there's a LOT further between the end of this road section and Southease but I still felt good so carried on pushing. I was surprised that I wasn't even feeling tired, even though it was now well after 1am.

The railway station at Southease eventually came into view and the Centurion volunteer said something along the lines of "wow, that looked like a proper run coming down there", which was a welcome boost. This was then followed up with the words "if you push you can still get within 24 hours". Damn, I'd thought that pushing hard in this last section I must now be well within reach! With those words ringing in my ears, I did my best to be super-quick at the Aid Station with a quick water refill and a few small bits to eat. It was weird that I still wasn't feeling particularly hungry, but was determined to listen to my body which had worked for me well so far today. As I headed back out to climb the hill up out of Southease, I worked out that I had about 4 and a quarter hours left to run 16 miles. Under normal circumstances I'd be confident of my chances in covering that in half the time, but knowing the climbs that I still had to overcome I still felt like it was a close call as to whether I'd be able to break 24 hours. I was still feeling wide awake and stronger than I'd expected to feel after running 84 miles though, so I felt confident that it was definitely doable.

I wasn't far up the hill though before I started to disappear into mist, with my head-torch lighting up the mist and nothing else. It became very difficult very quickly to follow the path (and by path, I mean more tightly mown/trodden grass) and I quickly got well off the beaten track. I was trying to find my way and looking back I saw others coming up behind me (I'd passed a couple since Southease so knew there were others behind) who might better know where they were going. In doing this, I managed to kick my right foot straight into a thistle with a couple of spines sticking firmly into the top of my foot. Ouch! Bloody hell that hurts, and I felt like a right idiot for taking my eye off the ball for a moment, especially when I was walking through what a golfer might refer to as the deep rough. I tried my best to pick out the prickles, but they were small enough to be invisible to the naked eye but big enough to cause significant discomfort. I wasn't able to completely get rid of them, but was able to move them enough to stop them from causing me constant pain. That would have to do, as the couple who I'd passed back down the hill passed me and seemed to know where they were going so I quickly followed behind. When we reached the top of the hill, they quickly started a run along the flat ground and I tried my best to follow them, as the mist was so thick and I didn't fancy being up here on my own - I rated the chances of me getting lost on my own in the middle of a cloud as pretty high!

As I started to run, one of the thistle thorns stuck into my toe and I had to stop as it was excrutiating. Before I knew it the couple I was following were out of sight and I was on my own. I sorted out as best as I could the thorn situation, and tried to run. Without others to follow, however, I really couldn't keep up a run as it was so difficult to see where to go and just didn't feel safe. I was soon with another runner, George, and we picked our way along the paths as quickly as possible, which wasn't quickly at all to be honest. I must have been a right miserable bugger to be with during this section of the race as I got it in my mind that this was my 24 hour target gone. I'm really sorry if I brought you down George as I know you were aiming for sub-24 as well and I think my miserable moaning convinced you that that was now a no-go. Sorry, you got to spend time with me at completely the wrong time in my race, I'm not always that miserable!

We plodded along without much talk between us. I know at this point I was starting to feel tired, but it was great to have the company and help in keeping to the paths. It felt like this section from Southease to Alfriston went on forever and I was also starting to get very cold, so as we came down out of the cloud I said that I fancied giving it a go at running if only to warm myself up a bit. I didn't manage to last long though, having spent so long walking it was incredibly difficult to get the legs moving into a run again and it wasn't long until George was back with me, "that didn't last long!" - too bloody right. It was now my turn to watch George disappear into the distance, but the dawn chorus was starting and although it was still dark, there was the promise of daylight with the birds starting to sing. We really weren't far from Alfriston though but I thought I should get it over and send a message to my wife to say that she shouldn't bother coming to the track for 6 to pick me up (she'd very kindly offered to come and pick my up at the finish), and I was surprised when I got an answer from her almost straight away - it was about 3.40 in the morning, but apparently she couldn't sleep because she'd been thinking about stupid old me running through the downs! It shows how down in the dumps I was, as I said that 7am was probably more realistic, even though I was only 9 miles from the finish and it wasn't yet 4am.

It was an incredibly welcome sight seeing the old church which houses the checkpoint. Coming into the church, I saw the welcoming faces of friends from Bosh, Sharon Dickson and John Fitzgerald and proceeded to have a good old moan about the conditions! I must have been a right miserable old bastard, but I was just so upset at having pushed so hard for the sub-24 only for it to seemingly be taken away from me by the weather conditions. John suggested that it was still well within the realms of possibility to complete the last 8.5 miles in 2 hours 10 minutes, but I'd already decided in my head that it wasn't possible, mainly due to the "hill from hell" out of Alfriston and so sat down and had a cup of coffee and didn't rush myself out of the checkpoint. John and Sharon suggested that I should just enjoy the last 8.5 miles if I thought it wasn't possible and whilst logically I agreed with them, I didn't think I'd find it enjoyable having worked so hard towards that goal that now felt out of reach. The chat did make me reassess what I'd told my wife in terms of times though, so I sent a message to say that I probably wouldn't be too much after 6 after all and I was going to give it a go still for sub-24, whilst still not really thinking it was possible. The response to this message was that everyone in the family, my sister-in-law and parents-in-law all replied encouraging me to give it a go - they were all awake and it wasn't even 4am, as they'd been thinking about me up on the downs in the middle of the night (plus they'd probably been woken by WhatsApp notifications). It made me decide to give it a everything I had, and then even if I did come up short then I couldn't feel bad.

George had been in the checkpoint at the same time, and we left together for the last section of the journey to Eastbourne. It was now fully light outside, so no need for head-torches. We attempted a run along side the river, but I took a slight wrong turn up the bank and we probably only managed about 50 metres before being slowed back to a walk. The fact that it was now light, along with the messages of support from everyone and the caffeine really had given me a lift though, and when we got to the start of the climb, I started to push as hard as I could. I knew it was a long hard climb, but I wanted that one-day belt buckle really badly and walked it out as close to a run as I dared and left George behind. I kept checking my watch, trying to work out whether it was still a possibility. I decided that if I could push to the top of the hill quickly and get running asap then it was still just possible and resolved to push myself as hard as I could and try to ignore the inevitable pain as much as possible.

The relentless climb out of Alfriston did seem to continue for quite some time, but I kept pushing myself. It did, however, feel like it lasted much less time than at SDW50 where I'd not really been prepared for it. As soon as I reached flatish ground at the top, I started to attempt to run. It was really hard going as I hadn't really had a proper run since Southease, around 7 miles ago. I started but had to stop 3 or 4 times as it hurt so much, but I was determined to get the legs moving properly and eventually got them going. Whilst it initially hurt, it actually felt great to be moving at a decent speed again and pushed as hard as I could. Before long I was coming down into Jevington and ran straight past the aid station here, shouting to the volunteer "I'm giving it a go for 24 hours!" as I passed. I felt like my legs were actually moving pretty well now and that I was really motoring down the hill. It was still extremely tight as to whether it would be possible to make it in under 24 hours though, especially as I knew there was one last climb up to the trig point. On reaching the last hill, I walked as fast as I possibly could and broke into a run on the less steep parts 3 or 4 times. It was hard going and slightly crazy to run my only uphill of the race after about 96 miles but I still had that dream target to aim for.

I reached the top and the trig point with about 35 minutes to get to the track in Eastbourne. I sent a message out to my family to say that it was going to be a photo finish, and in doing so walked straight past the turning down to Eastbourne. Thankfully I probably only went about 50-100 metres down the hill before I realised my mistake, but this was something I really didn't want or need at this stage. I worked my way back up as quickly as possible, giving myself a stern talking to on the way and telling myself that I was going to have to push as hard as I ever have for the next 30 minutes.

As anyone who has run the SDW50 or 100 will know, the run down from the trig point is pretty hairy in places and it was difficult to pick up much speed down here. I kept the legs going as quickly as I could though. At the first fork in the path, I chose the right hand fork and quickly found out this was a bad choice. I felt like I was being slowed down significantly by this bad choice, but kept moving through the overgrown path that I found myself on and it wasn't too long until I was back on the main path. I was now able to pick up the pace a bit and drive on down towards Eastbourne. It seemed to be taking an age to get down onto the paved surface though, and I was starting to lose hope slightly, but suddenly there it was, tarmac!! It felt good to be on a harder paved surface and I could really pick up the pace, at least until making the turning to go off-road again, behind a row of houses - another section which seemed to go on forever! It was a massive sense of relief to finally reach the main road and I knew that it was now or never, time to push through the pain barrier. Crossing the road, I opened up my stride and began to really run hard. It felt so good to be running quickly and I think the fact that I'd mentally prepared myself for a significant amount of pain meant that it didn't hurt anywhere near as much as I thought it would. As I came to the end of the first road, I saw another runner who I'd been running with much earlier on in the race. I tried to encourage him to run with me, but he said that he couldn't run, but "you might still do it!".

The road to the turning past the hospital seemed to last for an age and I kept questioning myself if I could keep going like this. I kept pushing the legs hard though, and eventually the turning off around the hospital appeared. I had just over 10 minutes to get there and from my experience with SDW50 I still wasn't certain if it was possible. I was repeatedly shouting at myself by this point to keep pushing hard (I would have looked like a bit of a nutter if anyone had seen me). 2 or 3 times I had the disappointment when I turned a corner which I thought was the last before the track but turned out not to be - so disappointing and soul destroying!!

Words cannot express quite how good a feeling it was to finally see the car park at the end of the path, which I knew was next to the athletics track and I now knew that sub-24 was going to happen. I couldn't quite believe it!

As I entered the track, I was looking around everywhere to see if I could see my wife, but she was nowhere to be seen and I slowed to a walk, slightly disappointed. There was another runner on the track and he had done the same so it didn't feel so wrong. The call came over that we had 7 minutes to complete the lap for sub-24 hours. I have to admit that I thought to myself "OK, I'll just continue to walk this in", but then shortly after there was another call saying "6 minutes to complete the lap". This second call was in such a way to say "come on, get your butts in gear" and at this stage I really didn't have the energy to argue so I broke into what felt like almost a sprint, but in reality I'm sure it resembled as a pained stumble. It felt good to try to run it in quickly, but I only had enough to make it around about 250-300 metres of the track before I had to slow it right down again, but I'd done it! 100 miles! 23 hours 55 minutes, plenty of time to spare!

Just after passing the line, I saw my wife Melissa, sister-in-law Amanda and mother-in-law Pat rushing in through the car park and when they shouted over to me, I found it impossible to hold back my emotions and immediately broke down in tears. To be fair, I've got form at the end of races for this, but this time it was incredibly raw after the rollercoaster of emotions I'd been through during the previous 24 hours. I'd written my kids a letter before starting the race to try and explain my motivations for trying to achieve something like this. A lot of which has to do with losing my own parents and had a quick thought about how much it meant to me and how they'd somehow been with me throughout this journey. I'm not religious at all or particularly spiritual, but I did truly have moments during the day where I felt them pushing me on. One thing that my Mum used to tell me all the time when I was growing up was that if you want something enough you can get it if you set your mind to it, and in the case of this race she was absolutely right. Hopefully this is a message that I'm passing onto my own kids now.

There was one small minor drama left to come. After grabbing a bite to eat (like many other foods that day, the hot dog tasted like the single best hot dog I've ever tasted) and a cuppa provided by the awesome Centurion volunteers (honestly, they are all the most amazing people you could ever have the pleasure to meet and are so helpful, to the point that I felt I was almost being offensive when I said I'd put my own ketchup on my hot dog!), we went to sit down next to the track and I realised I didn't know where my buckle was. We couldn't find it at all, and to be honest I wasn't too bothered about it as all I needed to know was that I'd managed to finish. Amanda took it on to make sure that I got one though and spoke to the Centurion guys at the finish. They made sure that I got a replacement (I have absolutely no idea what happened to the other one, but wasn't exactly with it at that point), and I can't thank Centurion enough for that, I worked hard enough for it!

We made our way back to Storrington, and the drive back made it hit home how far I'd run. It wasn't a short drive and that was only around the half way point. As I arrived back, I was handed a card by my daughter, Kaia, which set off the waterworks again for me. Such amazing support from all my family and I couldn't be prouder of them all.

But what an amazing adventure and such a magical experience. I'm certain I'd be saying that even if I'd fallen short in my attempt to get under 24 hours. Everything about it - the stunning scenery along the South Downs, the other runners, the Centurion staff and volunteers, supporters, the bloody hard challenge, distance and the hills (did I mention the hills?!?!) - combine to create something that I've never experienced anything even close to elsewhere. I'm so proud to be a member of the unbelievably welcoming Ultrarunning and Centurion communities. They are made up of the most incredible and inspirational people imaginable and the support that everyone gives to each other is quite something to behold. I'd encourage anyone thinking about taking on a challenge like this to give it a go, it's an absolutely incredible experience. If you work hard for it and believe in yourself you never know what's possible, I certainly didn't know whether I was capable of running 100 miles, but I somehow managed it.

So thank you to everyone I met along the way, thank you to Centurion and a massive thank you to my family for the support they gave me. I've had a week off since the race, and think I'll take another few to let my legs recover but I can't wait to get back running and identify some new challenges for the remainder of this year and next.