So, the day finally arrived. My fourth ultra in twelve months only a year and eight months since that painful first marathon. In my broken state then, I would never have guessed I'd be here at 6am in Winchester on a warm and overcast morning about to attempt run 100 miles. I've crammed in a lot of running adventures since then and learned so much about this awesome pursuit of trail running.
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| Friday night registration and kit check - it all sounds so simple! |
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| All ready for off - 6am start at Winchester |
The South Downs Way 100 is one of the tougher 100 mile races in the UK due to the 4,000m of ascent between Winchester and Eastbourne. It carries a weighty 4 UTMB qualifying points and is also a ballot qualifier for the original and most prestigious 100 mile race in the world; the Western States Endurance Run. Based on previous years, around a third of the starters wouldn't be making it to the end in time for the 30 hour cut off.
I had a dream target to get one of the special '100 miles one day' buckles and had made a schedule for 23 hours based on previous finishers times. In the days leading up to the race I tried to reconcile that this was my first 100 and not to be too disappointed if it didn't work out that way given how much can go wrong. I knew my pace would be fine for the first half but everything beyond mile 62 would be a step into the unknown.
I had my elite race crew of Rachel and Bobby in tow with a boot full of kit and produce resembling a 5 year old's birthday party buffet. This was in addition to the 14 aid stations on the route. Shortage of food was not going to be an issue although I realised if I spent 5 minutes in each I would be adding 70 minutes onto my time even before I spent any with my crew. Don't hang around at aid stations!
I set off too quick, landing at the first major check point after 22.6 miles in 3hrs 33 feeling brilliant and being swept along with the excitement of it all. My crew informed I had gained almost 20 minutes on my schedule already. I wasn't too worried though, I knew the first half of the race was more runnable than the second due to the hills being more rolling than the steep ups and downs to come. My tactic was to run long and hard from the start and see what I had left at the end, I didn't want to finish in 24.01 wondering what if?
This was pretty naive in hindsight and I would be paying for it soon enough.
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| Time for a refuel Queen Elizabeth Country Park |
I would next see Rachel and Bob at Cocking after 35 miles and what a difference a couple of hours had made.
Whilst I was still moving quickly, I now felt terrible. The heat was building, I wasn't injured but I felt weak and I had so far to go. I had hit the wall big time, my head was mashed.
A playlist of negative thoughts swishing around my brain. Why am I doing this? It is stupid and pointless. What am I trying to prove? and, Who even cares?
The only thing that kept me going was the thought of living with a DNF only a third of the way in just for 'not feeling it'. I grunted and grumped at my crew and tried to smash as much food into my face as I could in the hope it would shake me out of my black hole. I was then off again heading back up into the hills with a dark cloud hovering above my head.
What happened next was amazing, my biggest low was followed an hour later by the biggest high. I started to feel strong again as the calories kicked in. I had the most amazing runners high which made the hairs on my neck stand on end. I was running strong and free again after 45 miles and breezed into Amberley grinning like a loon.
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| Amberley crew station - Feeling good |
I now knew what was to come having recced the remainder a few weeks previous. This gave me a boost despite the huge distance still to go. We were into the most beautiful part of the SDW now, a stunning rollercoaster of chalk hills with views down into lush green fields and wildflowers all set to a skylark soundtrack. There was nothing to do but drink it all in and eat up the miles whilst the legs still allowed. What a stunning landscape.
Half way passed and then the Washington aid station where I high fived Elvis at 54 miles in 9hrs 46. Around 45 minutes ahead of schedule now.
The next 15 miles passed in a blur, the sun came out, it got hot and then cool again, shadows grew, the landscape became more beautiful and colours were turned up to eleven as the end of the day got closer. I dropped into Clayton Windmills at 70 miles and found myself back amongst a group having being on my own quite a while. I was now starting to do those sums in my head, I think I can do this, I can walk 30 miles, even if I run only a little I've got a good chance of my 24 hour dream if I can just hold it together.
My feet were feeling pretty battered now from the rock hard chalk and flint under foot. I joined the other guys in running a few yards off the trail on the softer grass to relieve the punishment.
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| Big skies - summer shows itself on the SDW |
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| Man those chalk and flint trails are tough on the plates of meat |
The night was beginning to draw in now and it was soon time for the planned change of shirt and adding of a base layer.
Housedean Farm was the next stop where we were met by the most brilliant aid station crew. They really were looking after people here in a brilliant and super efficient way. Emotions are running high after 77 miles, just the right combination of words of comfort, steel and encouragement struck just the right chord. I was lifted once more. Thanks guys, you were amazing.
The feared night time section was now just around the corner. I wasn't sure whether I would see my crew again now until the end. I had given strict instructions for them to rest after such a long day trailing around after me, not that they paid any attention!
As the night drew in the mist descended and visibility dropped to only a few feet. Headtorches simply reflected their beams back like the lights of a car in fog. I was worried that progress would become painfully slow or worse, I would take a wrong turn. The temperature had dropped away and I stuck on my waterproof to keep the increasing wind at bay.
By now I had buddied up with my new pal Ron from Northern Ireland a veteran of 20 ultras (doing the SDW100 as part of a stag weekend!?) and we resolved to get this thing done together. We chatted through the night and I was glad of the company. We fed off each other during the toughest part of the race and worked as a team so as not to make any navigational mistakes. Running had now pretty much turned into a quick march due to the visibility, the hills and fatigue. Getting lost now would be devastating.
I couldnt believe it when Bobby and Rachel were at Bo-Peep stood on the top of a cold moor in the fog at almost 11 pm. They gave us a lovely welcome. Now that is what you call proper support! Ron was amazed by their commitment and when asked by Rach if he wanted anything he just responded with 'a hug' so I duly obliged!
The last two aid stations came and went in a flurry of sugary tea and soup. The volunteers here truly are legends giving up their own time to nurse the remaining zombies home in the middle of the night. Some people we passed were really starting to struggle now but my own discomfort had pretty much plateaued, I could smell that finish line now.
Two big hills to climb and we were then up by the trig point above Eastbourne. You could almost reach out and touch the lights of the running track blazing into the night and calling us home. A couple of hardy volunteers were camped up there to guide us the right way down a never ending bone crunching descent down a flint chute before being deposited onto the streets of Eastbourne.
I am afraid that running had long since ceased and all I could lift myself to do was maintain a quick march the last couple of flat miles home under the street lights of Eastbourne. I was passed by quite a few people here, most had been lifted to run it home on the flat accompanied by words of encouragement from their pacer. I was jealous of their pacers, I didn't even have Ron anymore. He had drifted behind as I tried to keep up the marching pace. It is my only regret that I lacked the will to lift myself to run again for the last couple of miles.
After what seemed like an eternity I was rounding the bend onto the athletics track. I heard Rachel shout for me and the others there clapped. I was glad to be able to run those last 400 metres round the track finishing wearily in 21hrs and 43 minutes.
It was done.
I felt strangely numb as I was handed my buckle. I think I left my emotion along with everything else out there on the trail.
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| Scary eyes! - A 176,000 yard stare |
So that's it, all over. Well done for reading this far. So much happens on a long ultra, yet your brain isn't working very well by the end. It is hard to remember it all.
I can't quite believe I ran 100 miles. I still don't know how I feel about it other than it feels big. My body has never taking this much punishment but I am recovering well now that the pain has subsided enough to sleep properly.
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| Buckles are awarded at 100 mile races rather than medals to acknowledge their roots in old horseback trail events in the US |
Equally huge thanks to Rachel and Bobby, you did everything I could have asked for and more.
Finally, a huge well done to everyone with the courage to stand on that start line to take on this or any other 100 miler. Whether you finished in 17hrs or DNF'd after 20 miles, every one of you are an inspiration and I doff my running cap to you all.
