Written by Richard Stillion - http://richyla.wordpress.com/

Photo: Courtesy Jon Lavis

In a nutshell, the NDW50 was hot and hard!

I first came across the “word” NDW50 way back in September/October 2012 whilst chatting on the Runner’s World forum and someone called loulabell mentioned it. New to ultra running I googled it and came across the Centurion Running website with one of the photos on the Homepage (it’s still there) of someone merrily crossing a river via stepping stones. Ooh that looks nice, I thought – shame the photographer hadn’t turned around at this point to reveal the bigger picture (more later)! I read on the website that you could do a required amount of hours volunteering to earn a complementary place for the race the year after. So that’s what I did. I’ve since crewed on a couple more Centurion aid stations and they give you an amazing buzz. You can also have a look at what people are wearing (from a practical view, not fashion, I hasten to add) and what they are eating in a nutritional sense (coke seemed to be the most popular choice).

So 20 months and a lot of training later, I found myself approaching race day. Sadly, not a great week, as the family went down with sore throats and viral poorliness. This lead to a few sleepless nights and I think I caught a bit of this bug.

I turned up on race day not feeling too chipper and, truth be told, a bit sick as well. Whether this was augmented by nerves as the reality of 50 miles hit me, I don’t know.

The weather was going to be hot, so, in addition to my S-Lab 12 running vest, I thought I’d take a 700ml water waist-belt. Inside the belt I put in 12 S-Caps (salt/electrolyte tablets).

I forgot the waist-belt – I left it in the hotel.

So, feeling not-very-good and now sans extra water and electrolytes I wasn’t in a good state. I did see a couple of people I was acquainted with at the registration, but didn’t say too much, I really didn’t want my negativity oozing out, so I apologise to those people if I appeared a bit subdued.

I had my kit checked, collected my number and gave my drop bag to Drew. All I wanted now was to start, I was hoping the ill-feeling would disappear – I won’t go on about it anymore, but suffice to say – it didn’t. I was more than happy I didn’t need the toilet though as there was quite a queue. Before long, James got up and gave his briefing – it was interesting to hear him saying about not giving him grief if the course wasn’t exactly as stated. I help run a local village fun run and we get grief about timings and distances every year. It’s just nice to know it happens at the top as well as the little league!

So, Race Plans:

Plan A

Go out way too fast in the excitement of it all, get to about mile 15 and start feeling like I’ve overdone it. Get to mile 24 and know I’ve overdone it, spend the next 26 miles cursing and hating myself, hating ultras and hating the world whilst taking in the marvellous open scenery of the North Downs. Crawl to the finish line. Sign up for another ultra and tell everyone who will or won’t listen how great ultra running is.

Plan B

Just do Plan A.

Anyway. Warm weather, firm underfoot and off we went. After about thirty seconds I nearly got thwacked with a branch of holly or some such – that would have been a record to have to pull out of a 50 miler due to a holly leaf in the eye DROP at 30s. I was surprised how quickly the field panned out as it wasn’t the widest of trails and we were also in contention with quite a few Cystic Fibrosis Charity walkers coming the other way. Despite my cunning Plan A I was absolutely determined not to go out too fast. Everyone seemed to be overtaking me and I was feeling like I was being left behind. The pace did steady and there were gaps I was thinking I could fit into, but I managed to avoid temptation. I was planning, if all went well, for something like 10-10.30 hours which gave me 12 min/mile to aim at for pace.   Tim Lambert’s blogs which he posted just prior to the race really helped saying which bits were the hardest. So, I thought maybe if I could run gently but well up to Boxhill, I would be able to buy some time as the Boxhill to Reigate hill 7 mile section would clearly be slower. It’s strange that it is only a few days ago and already I’m forgetting details. I remember running through quite flat areas, the weather was warm, but there was enough shelter in wooded areas, it was at this time I saw a jay – (that sort of thing cheers me up). I came out onto a field and at this point some people were having quite a chat and one of them mentioned that the field was underwater during the flooding. We then came out into another area and the views really opened up, stunning stuff.

The next part of note that really stuck in my mind was coming up to St Martha on the Hill Church and then looking at the view on the other side. Just beautiful.

I don’t know why but at the first two aid stations, I didn’t really eat that much. I remember the guys at the second aid station working frantically making up sandwiches though. They kindly topped my soft flasks up, which needless to say were empty every time I reached an aid station, but that’s all I took. I had asked if they had any S-caps, which they didn’t, but one of the runners said his wife had some in the car. I turned the offer down for some reason, but it was very kind of him.

“Shot to bits!” Photo: Courtesy Jon Lavis

Plodding on, I started to go downhill (in a geographical sense) and noticed some vineyards to my right (Denbies as I’ve since learned it is called) and in front of me could only be Boxhill. I could see our CP3 on the other side of a very busy dual carriageway and it was a bit of a trek to head down to the underpass. I got my number scanned here and noticed a little handwritten sign/cartoon saying steep climb ahead with a stick man going upstairs. My tummy was rumbling for food here (despite the very strong pungent odour of wild garlic) and I decided I’d go for it. I apologise to anyone who saw me here. They may as well have laid out a trough. I just mixed it all in – crisps for salt, cheese and ham for salt, protein, bread for carbohydrate, coke and anything else that was there. It was here that I asked if I could have one bottle filled with water and one with electrolyte drink – I just hadn’t been thinking before. I saw Ed Catmur amongst the crew and asked him if he was recovered from the TP100 and was he feeling ready for SDW100 – he said he was, but had to get Comrades out of the way first! I wished him luck and thanked the rest of the crew and continued on to…. the iconic Stepping Stones! Finally, after 20 months I’d got there. As it was hot, I was all for falling into the River Mole to cool off, but I went over slowly (there was a lady with a small child in front of me – I wasn’t in a rush). It was just after the stepping stones that I heard my mobile phone indicating a text message. I looked and it was from my wife – she was following the race on-line and she said I was bang on for 10hrs30 and I’d been running at 10.42m/mile.

Where’s the lift?

And so to the stairs! Long and steep, I was half expecting the Pearly Gates with St Peter at the top asking if I wanted Cake or Death – at this point I would have been undecided.   Weeell, it wasn’t that bad to be honest, and turning around, well, what a view. Absolutely stunning. I asked a lady if she’d take a photo of me, which she kindly did. She asked if I was running for charity? No, I replied, for sheer stupidity! I think it was just around the corner from the top that a runner had clearly been met by a group of friends/family – possibly between 10-20 people. They wished me good luck and I put my hands to my ears as if to say “I can’t hear you” and they all clapped and cheered. It’s moments like that which really lift you.

All worth it – at the top of Boxhill

So, that marked around the half-way point. There are ways to break the race down and I felt good in my mind here as the run to the CP3 was the longest of approx. 9/10 miles. The rest of the sections were not as long. The next block would take me into the 30 mile bracket. I can’t remember too much about this bit, there were some flat parts and then Reigate Hill appeared. It was just a case of sticking one foot in front of the other. By the time I’d reached the top, my hips had started to hurt and my glutes felt very tight. It must have been round here that I talked to a female runner and said I was shot to bits. I did feel shot to bits, but not in a “can’t finish shot to bits” way. She told me her boyfriend and daughter were on the route supporting her. I hadn’t really spoken to anyone until now, I just wanted to get miles under my belt.

I was certainly feeling it now and walking was creeping in. I was never really disheartened throughout any of the race, but this section did drag on, what with the walking slowing my run rate down. A bit later on, a guy with a brim that went round his hat went past me and I didn’t take much notice until only a little while after that someone behind me started to shout and I turned round and could see she was pointing left. He’d gone past the turning. A few of us all started yelling now, but to no avail – I’m assuming the guy had earphones in. All this shouting brought a couple of lads out of one of the houses – they must have thought someone was getting mugged or something. We apologised and then managed to flag a van down and asked if the driver wouldn’t mind telling the runner to turn around (I did see him finish btw).

Caterham was a welcome sight and I started to feel very positive about finishing now. It was also a breakthrough moment as this was mile 38 – one mile further than I’d run in a day before, so, everything from now was bonus time. The female runner (I apologise for not knowing your name) who I’d been talking to also pointed out that at this stage we could pretty much walk to the finish in time, so to some extent it would be harder for me to drop than it would to finish. They even had flapjacks here. I love them and things like that really give that boost – there’s enough effort by the crews, but this extra bit was brilliant (it turned out to be Bryan Webster’s kids who’d made them – well, you made part of my day a very happy one, thank you!). My phone text went again and it brought a smile to my face. I didn’t check it, but I knew that the on-line race page must have updated my progress and my wife would have sent a text that she’d seen it. It meant a great deal that someone was tracing where I was (I think my family in New Zealand were keeping an eye on it too).

Again, the pace was slow, but psychologically I felt very happy. This was a five mile section so I hoped I would be fine. I think we were on the south side of a hill and I started to feel really hot. It was like a suntrap with absolutely no breeze. (I also remember thinking what an absolute blight the M25 was.) I crewed at the Botley Hill aid station last year, so I knew there was a long climb up. I welcomed it. It was covered over by trees and was cool away from the suntrap and it wasn’t as steep as Reigate. I don’t know why, but I thought I was way over the 11 hour finish mark now. (Why times matter I just don’t know. I’m not going to win anything and it leaves me just feeling frustrated if I don’t achieve something that may have not been on the cards in the first place. Just read my Cotswold blog for how stupid I got about not making a time.) This actually made me relax and I thought I’d make the effort and call home. I thanked Botley Hill Aid station and crossed the road. There was no reply but I did notice the time on the phone (I don’t have a watch) which said 17.05. Times don’t matter? Well, they don’t, but it would be nice to finish with a 10 on the left hand side! The going was much easier here so I ran for the most part, well, after passing through the rape field (it wasn’t the first on the route), I find the smell pretty stifling and I don’t even suffer from hay fever. I still had an energy gel left, so I thought I might as well take it. And then on, to lots of flat fields with cow poo! And a few cows. I found I had three cows to my left, but I just slowed down and made a cick-cick sort of noise that people do with horses and talked calmly to them. One ran to the rest of the herd to my right and the other two followed. I saw a kestrel near here, presumably off for a bit of tea. I then wound left and right through more fields for a bit until I saw a couple of yellow Centurion Team t-shirts – Drew Sheffield and Paul Navesey and a lady I didn’t recognise. I don’t know what they were doing there, but they were a welcome sight as I knew the finish couldn’t be far. I think I tried being witty with them and then asked how far. Drew said 1.6 miles which was heartening.

Into the final field and on my left was the finish gantry, but I had to go straight out of the field instead of crossing it, down a lane and round a corner where there were lots of finishers wishing me well. I passed Liz Grec who high-fived me and the “female runner” with her boyfriend and daughter. I hugged the gantry when I got to the finish. My family weren’t there, so I spared everyone the embarrassment of me blubbing and collected my medal from Paul Navesey – clearly he’d rushed back in order to give me my medal personally heh heh! I saw Tim Lambert and congratulated him on his finish and he asked me if I was getting the bus back to Farnham. I clearly wasn’t thinking in my state of euphoria as I said I would stay and soak up the atmosphere/bask in my happiness. I had a chat with a few of the crew and then I thought I’d head down to the hall for something to eat and get changed. Before I got there I saw James Elson on the other side of the road. He asked me if I was getting the bus and I said I thought I’d wait for the next one. He strongly advised I should get this one (if I’d waited for the next one, it would have meant probably another 3 hours before I got back to Farnham), so I thank him for his voice of reason. The bus was about to leave, so Liz Grec very, very kindly ran up to the hall to get my bag and t-shirt for me. I was pleased to be able to thank James in person for the offer of a free place for volunteering – I know that it’s not exclusive to Centurion, but I’m exceptionally grateful for the offer. I asked James if I could have a hot dog. He looked at me sideways and suggested I may have to let that go this time!!

So onto the bus which was air conditioned and I do get cold quickly after a run. Thankfully I had plenty to put on in my dropbag. I drove back to the hotel to collect my waist belt then drove home. My family put up with a lot with my running but they were more than proud when I got home. I even got pampered the next morning having breakfast brought up, but about mid-day when I called down for coffee, my wife brought it up, but with a look on her face to say “the hero worship has finished now!”

As I said, I never felt 100% the whole way round, but I didn’t vomit which I did see someone else do. Mentally I felt fine and as much as my legs hurt, I really enjoyed the whole thing and the scenery was some of England’s finest. It was hot, but tell that to the guys who ran Transvulcania the other week. The hills were steep, but UTMB is on my bucket list. So, I guess I’ll have to learn, prepare and adapt as best you can – conditions can’t always be perfect.

Many thanks to all at Centurion, who made things as simple as possible, all that was required from me was to put one foot in front of another. Registration was as straightforward as it could be. Direction-wise, I hardly paused for a moment – tantamount to putting a 50 mile rope along the NDW I can’t see how the route marking could have been better. I understand that sweepers were needed at the last moment and within about 10 minutes volunteers had stepped forward. Crew stations worked hard and were really friendly and supportive. It was hot and hard, but simply an amazing experience. I am now part pilgrim!

At the finish line. Photo: Courtesy Jon Lavis