The North Lincs Half - 15/05/2016

Since being bitten by the ultra trail running bug almost two years ago I have run a lot of slow miles. They've been beautiful, muddy and tough but slow.  This training was essential for getting through three mighty ultras last year but I have been wondering whether I have been simply training myself to run long and slow.  

I do have a decent natural pace when I put my mind to it, so in addition to my one big trail race this summer at the UT 110k, I want to rediscover some of it and make some inroads into my road times this year.  The first opportunity would be at a race that is becoming a fixture, the North Lincs half in my boyhood town of Scunthorpe which I would be running for the third time.  It is pancake flat with a great opportunity for fast times and also to run with some of my old buddies from home.

Great to see you Mr Ellis
Photo credit Chris Pickwell

About five weeks out from the race I started to introduce one quicker run into my week to get myself used to clocking some faster kilometres ready for the race.  The sessions were hard as I'm so used to just steadilly accumulating the miles, but as a result my natural cruising pace quickly dropped by around 15 secs per mile.  After a few weeks, I was able to increase the distance covered at the faster pace and I started to feel more confident in having a really good crack at my half marathon time of 1h 28mins at this race.

Spot the Matt...
Photo credit Roger Kimberley-Scott

As it happened, the day dawned with perfect conditions, bright sunshine with a gentle cool breeze. As with last year, my old pals were there with me.  Ben, whose running is improving all the time was also looking to crack a personal best and Mark was just seeing how it went after having run a cracking race here last year.  On the start line it was a lovely surprise to bump into a friendly face in Gary Ellis, an old school friend who told me he has started running relatively recently back home in Liverpool.

Perfect conditions
Photo credit Scunthorpe Telegraph

As well as being flat, the course is quite scenic as it winds its way through villages outside the town and it still ends on the pitch in the football ground which is a nice way to finish.  I hope they can retain this when Scunthorpe United get a new ground soon.  Plenty of folks had turned out to cheer us on  along the route in the morning sunshine.

Mark breaks his 5k pb at the start, oops!
Photo credit: Roger Kimberley-Scott

I had worked out my splits for a one minute pb and resolved to stick with that pace as long as possible, fully expecting to fade a little at the end.  In reality I found that hitting the splits bang on was quite hard and ended up running several seconds per kilometre under.  I just went with it as we raced through the country lanes, fully expecting some painful payback later on.

I did hit a tricky patch around ten miles but it was more of a drifting of concentration than physical fatigue.  I quickly snapped out of it though and with only three miles to go I managed to get back on track and it wasn't long before we were rounding the corner for the long straight back to Scunthorpe. It was here I started to pass those who had gone out too fast and started to wobble but passing them gave me more confidence and I was able to lift the pace again which came as a surprise given my faster than expected start.  Entering the stadium straining for a few extra seconds, I knew I was on for a decent time but I hadn't looked at my watch for a wee while so I had no idea until I saw the race timer on the finish line.

Photo credit Claire Lewis

Before the race I thought that to put a minute into my best time would be a brilliant result.  In the end I battered down the doors of my pb by two and a half minutes to get home in 1h 25min and 31sec, a dream time given I have only really started thinking about faster stuff recently.  Perhaps there is something in this speedwork thing after all...

Suffice to say I am chuffed with that.  Its nice to have a time which better matches the amount of work I put into my running.  Turns out it was a day for smashing records. The course record was broken and Gary (see you next year?) and Ben also claiming new pbs.  Mark had a tougher day out than last year having overcooked it a little at the start but was still smiling at the end and even Harrison came away with a medal for bossing the fun run.

Proud fun run finishers
Photo credit Scunthorpe Telegraph

Afterwards we retired for a gravy dinner and a couple of shandies to top off a fab weekend.  Thanks to all the volunteers and organisers who put together a really well organised race.

I'm returning to the hills next weekend with the awesomest trail running community at the Hardmoors Osmotherley Marathon.  Cannot wait!

The Haworth Hobble (Wuthering Hike) - 12/03/2016

Out on the wiley, windy moors - Kate Bush

The first race of 2016 and a true test.  A classic route taking in 32 miles of mud and hills in Bronte country, the beautiful West Yorkshire Pennines.

Since the start of last winter I confess its been a battle to maintain motivation to run at the same mileage levels I seemed to manage in the first half of 2015.  I seem to have had one illness after another and the ankle is still a long way off 100%.  To add to that I didn't get a number for the UTMB and after much consideration I also decided to withdraw from my Plan B race, the Hardmoors 110, because of the enforced route change (due to a clash on the same weekend with a load of inconsiderate bikeists on the Tour of Yorkshire).  All in all, there have been quite a few factors which have knocked my running mojo and I was hoping to at least partially rediscover it somewhere out there in the Hills of Bronte country.

The route started on the High Street in picturesque Haworth and then after an initial climb headed West on a long and fast descent passing several reservoirs in beautiful remote countryside.  My pace felt pretty good for the first half and there were plenty of veterans around to follow avoiding having to slow down for route finding and mapwork. I was particularly pleased to be around others who knew where they were going when the route descended through winding tracks and back gardens at one stage.  All in all reasonably good progress was made.

Beautiful Scenery in Bronte Country

The true challenge of this route was still to come though with the ground going from soft to heavy and two mighty climbs up to Stoodley Pike and then out of Mankinholes which all must be done on very tired legs.  Unsurprisingly it was here that I started to struggle, the climbs just seemed to take more out of my legs than usual making it really hard to pick the pace up again after each.  My momentum was lost and I never really managed to get moving at a reasonable pace again.

A slower pace meant I was running with a few folk for a change instead of on my own in the lonely 'no mans land' I sometimes find myself in.  I was grateful for the company, to chat and particularly when the others could point out the right direction.  I would definitely have got lost without them. There were still a couple of points where the lack of route knowledge caught up with me, notably in the last few hundred yards where I ran past a turnoff and lost quite a few places (but not much time).

It had been a fantastic route with incredible views, however I'm afraid to admit the end couldn't come soon enough for my aching body and slightly bruised ego.  I finished way outside the time I had hoped for but at least I understand why.  I'm just not as strong as I was this time last year, but hopefully there will be brighter times and better runs ahead for me in 2016.  

One of the major draws for this race was to see an area of Northern countryside I have never visited and to have a crack at a classic race I had heard so much about. It wasn't my best run and I'm not sure whether my mojo has been restored, but I have to say it really was worth the aching legs to see this beautiful part of the country, for the princely race entry fee of £13!

Would I do it again, definitely but I'll be aiming for a much stronger performance next time...

2015 A Badger's Running Year

Memories take us back, dreams take us forward.

In 2015 I've upped the ante.  I didn't quite make my 2,000 mile target due to injury (1,879 to be precise) but I still ran harder, further and faster than I've ever done before.

Three tough ultras, three trail marathons, one sprained ankle with a road marathon and a wee half thrown in for good measure.

The memories quickly fade which is why writing these little blogs has been so useful.  To remind myself of the highs and learn from the lows.

March - A chilly Hardmoors 55 and ultra number 3 for me

2015 Worst bits

• Sat slumped in the mud and rain 20 miles from my car after just spraining my ankle on a miserable recce of the Hardmoors 60.
• Two weeks moping about my UTMB chances slipping away with my injury.
• A hungover and bruising experience at the Rombalds Stride.
• Crawling (literally) out of bed the morning after the SDW100.

2015 Best bits

• Emerging into the lights of Helmsley and finishing strong at the Hardmoors 55.
• Smashing the 24 hour barrier in my first 100 miler at the SDW100.
• Incredible ultra trail running experiences meeting new people and discovering some epic trails all over the country. 
• Running through the pain barrier at the Hardmoors 60, three weeks after the sprained ankle and completing my UTMB points haul.
• Settling an old score with a road marathon pb in York.
• Running with my buddies at the North Lincs Half and the Roseberry Topping Trail Marathon.

Tough to see how I can top that lot next year.  A few races in the diary already but a lot rests on the UTMB ballot.  If I get lucky, I'm going to need to dream bigger again next year.  Its hard to imagine because its been tough at times this year both physically and mentally.

But hey, nothing worth having is won easily right? 

Hardmoors 26.2 Series Roseberry Topping - 13/12/2015

'In the depth of winter I finally learned that within me there is an invincible summer' - Albert Camus

So to my eighth and final race of 2015, a hilly winter marathon with a good mate for company looking to crack his first 26.2!

I am a huge fan of Jon Steele's Hardmoors Series having completed the Hardmoors 55 and 60 ultras earlier this year.  The races are well organised, relaxed and friendly and it just so happens they are all held up the road from me in the beautiful North York Moors.

So what better way to make your first foray into long distance trail running than a Hardmoors marathon for one of my oldest buddies Ben.

We arrived in time for the race briefing where we learned that Jon had thrown in an extra four miles or so to ensure we would get full value for money!  This would take the distance beyond 30 miles and towards the official 50km ultra distance - what an awesome (if unorthodox) way to break your marathon duck for him.

The briefing ended with a brilliant round of applause for hero ultra runner Dennis Potton who was amongst the runners on the day.  Dennis had found time to save a drowning child on his way to the finish of the Hardmoors 60 in September.

The sun had started to rise above the Moors as we left Guisborough Sea Cadets and made the first sticky, muddy ascent to High Cliff Nab on the Cleveland Way.  We were greeted by a spectacular sight as the sun lit up a snow crusted landscape with cloud enveloping the valley bottoms.  Wow, it doesn't get much better than conditions like this in December.

After taking us up Roseberry Topping (twice) and then on to Captain Cook's monument we made good progress on the frozen ground through Kildale and then up onto the High Moors.  A tough long climb then before leaving the Cleveland Way and descending East to Castleton and Commondale. The sun continued to shine all morning illuminating incredible frosty views in every direction.

Whilst receiving our punishment on Roseberry Topping, Rachel, Bobby and Simon were taking on the '10km' route which was actually closer to 9 miles!

Simon, Rachel and Bobby ready to go - Photo credit Suzanne Dunn

Well done ladies on your first trail race, and massive good luck to Simon taking on the mighty Marathon des Sables in 2016!

Our final climb back up onto the High Moor came after Commondale and by now the snow was melting fast in the sunshine leaving deep freezing puddles which Ben found soothing on his battered feet and I found plain horrible!  By now our pace had slowed a little but we determined to finish and it was a relief to finally reach the woods high above Guisborough as the light of the day began to fade a little.  Here we were caught by an experienced runner training for the Spine race in January, one of the world's toughest ultramarathons.  He was so impressed by learning Ben was taking on this tough challenge as his first marathon he had to stop in his tracks and shake him by the hand!

It was good to run hard down into Guisborough where we were cheered by waiting Bobby with our friends Chris and Becki who had arrived in time to cheer us home.  I didn't detect the shiny eyes promised by Ben at the finish line but I know we were both proud of finishing this tough run and it was a privilege to be there with him throughout his first marathon.  Massive respect buddy, that was a hard route to pick for your first one and you pushed it all the way to the end even when it got really tough.  I hope it will be the first of many for you!

Tough to kill! - Photo credit Chris Pickwell

Congratulations to the Hardmoors family (runners and volunteers) who created another brilliant event with excellent organisation, aid stations and most importantly that special friendly vibe.  I'll certainly be back for more in 2016 and hopefully with friends again too!

Yorkshire Marathon 11/10/2015

'It's no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.' - Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

Exactly two years ago I had a harsh lesson delivered to me in the form of a painful and ultimately disappointing introduction to marathon running at the inaugural Yorkshire marathon here in York. 

 I followed my training plan and thought everything was in place to get me round in my target  time of three and a half hours.  In the end though I paced it badly, I hit the wall, cramped up and hobbled home painfully and disappointed 6 minutes outside my time.  

I know now that I was seriously underprepared.  

I found it tough to take but what happened to me in that race essentially kickstarted two years of incredible trail running adventures as I resolved to train harder, run further and be stronger so that I never have to feel that way again.  I am a different runner now, much stronger and I've certainly learned how to suffer better...!

Fast forward two years and my home marathon was looming again and I had got myself a number thinking I'd be in great shape to run a time I'd be happy with.  In reality though its been a tricky few months with injury curtailing my training and then a tough day out dragging myself round the Hardmoors 60 only a few weeks ago with the sprained ankle.

In my mind I had decided to withdraw from the marathon soon after finishing the Hardmoors.  The ankle has improved a lot but I knew a super quick time (for me) was out of the question.  In the few days before the race though, my decision not to run had started to nag at me.  I slowly started to realise that the desire to chase a time had blinded me to what an incredible experience and privilege it is to run a marathon and even better when its on your doorstep.

In the end the fear of missing out won.  I decided to run on the day before and immediately regretted overindulging at a function the previous Tuesday evening!

But what would my tactic be?  I didn't want to just trot round and treat it like a training run,  but I also knew that my recent prep would preclude a super quick time.

I decided to try to run the race I wanted to two years ago.

I ran comfortably with the pack surrounding the 3h 30 pacer telling myself that if my ankle started to hurt at any stage I would withdraw.  The weather conditions were perfect, the Minster looked glorious and the good people of York lined the route in their thousands cheering, clapping and keeping everyone supplied with jelly babies, musical entertainment and lots of love.

The ankle discomfort never materialised and I got stronger as the race unfolded.  The wall never came, the cramp never appeared and I ran a negative split coming home in 3h 25mins.

It was immensely cathartic to finally put those 2013 demons to rest.  To comfortably deliver the race I hoped to back then with no specific preparation shows how far I've come.  I'm so glad I didn't listen to my stupid ego telling me that its all about the time.  I know I can go faster but that's not the point.

Top photobombing.  I wondered what happened to my free yoghurt!

When I jump off this ultra treadmill for long enough I'd like to see how big a hole I can put into my marathon time.  For now though its good just to have one in the bank that doesn't have such a painful memory.

As the nights draw in, the call of the sofa and the duvet gets stronger.  To all of you braving the elements this winter and pounding the pavements and trails over the next few months extra respect. Good luck to you whatever your challenge.  Its certainly harder this time of year but way more rewarding.  You have my permission to feel that extra little bit smug!  See you out there...

The Hardmoors 60 - 19/09/2015

'Never look backwards or you'll fall down the stairs' - Rudyard Kipling

The Hardmoors 60 is a 62 mile ultramarathon on the coastal Cleveland Way trail between Guisborough and Filey. It passes over beautiful clifftop trails, secluded beaches and seaside villages.  It takes in over 3,000m of ascent as the path hugs the coast up and down the cliffs from beach to village to bay.

To be honest I hadn't envisaged doing another long one this year but following a strengthening in qualification criteria to the UTMB I needed to squeeze in an extra one to be in that ballot come January which has been my overall big target for the year.

I have had a tough time rediscovering my mojo following the SDW100 which was my big race for 2015.  I had struggled to get the mileage back up to the 50-60 mile weeks I was clocking beforehand but more of a problem was that after so much running over the last twelve months, I was felling a bit jaded by it all mentally too. 

This race was always going to be a tester, the Hardmoors get their name for good reason as I found in March and this race is a 3 point UTMB qualifier (out of a maximum 4).  So I already wasn't feeling great about my preparations.  Then, whilst out on a dreich bank holiday recce run near Staithes, I sprained my ankle proper with less than 3 weeks to go.

Ouch! - Stupid running...

I was a bit shelled to be honest.  I couldn't believe I would recover sufficiently to complete a tough race in such a short time.  I iced and rested and just kept everything crossed for a recovery quicker than my Googling suggested was likely.

By the time the race came around I had managed only a couple of runs and none without pain.  I knew I had the miles in my legs to carry me through but I also knew a roll of the ankle in the race would be an instant DNF and could set me back months.

I avoided the physio (I felt I knew what the advice would be) and decided to just give it a go.  After all, there was no way I was going to trouble the scorers, but any finish within cutoff would keep the UTMB hopes alive.

Anyway enough of the excuses what about the race!

The traditional pre race selfie.
Yes we looked this tired BEFORE the race!

I had a new race crew on hand (thanks Mum and Dad) after giving Bobby and Rach a break from traipsing around after me doing lunatic runs.  We were up early to drive to Guisborough Sea Cadets for the start and after kit check and briefing we were soon heading off to the first climb up to High Cliff Nab on the North York Moors.

A cool start at Guisborough - Photo credit Ann Brown

After less than a mile, the route traversed a cambered open field and the inevitable ankle roll happened although way sooner than anticipated .  The pain was excruciating and I wondered if I was going to be the earliest DNF in the history of ultra running.  I pressed on gingerly initially just to avoid embarrassment but was glad I did as the pain eventually faded.

I realised that the mental challenge of this race was going to be as hard as the physical.  I had to concentrate so hard on keeping my cadence high to reduce the force through the ankle and be so careful to plant my foot on as flat a surface as possible ever single step.  This was going to be tough over such a mix of terrain all day and into the night.

Why so serious at Skinningrove? - Photo credit Ann Brown

We arrived in Saltburn and the heat had started to build, I looked forward to getting up on the cliff tops to drink in the views on what was now a truly stunning day.  Once we had climbed up onto the cliffs, the next few hours were about making progress towards Runswick Bay where my first drop bag awaited at 21 miles.  Mum and Dad managed to catch up with me a couple of times along the way with loads of goodies on hand.

A rare smile!

Progress was steady due to being so careful.  I wish I had spent more time appreciating the stunning scenery but I was too busy watching my feet.  I am not sure what the words are for someone with a fear of rabbit holes or particularly tufty patches of grass but they were terrifying and I had it. Tuftygrassaphobia perhaps..? 

The pretty fishing village of Staithes came and went in what seemed like a flash, then onto the spectacular beach at Runswick bay where we tackled just a fraction of the thousands of steep steps up and down the cliffs we would need to climb..

On the way to Staithes - Photo credit Kim Kiddle

The next major landmark was Whitby and the 199 steps up to the Abbey.  In his race briefing Jon Steele (the race director) had a chuckle at the thought of 200 ultra runners 'swimming' through the hordes of tourists Whitby attracts on a warm day and he wasn't wrong!  Lots of strange looks, comments and surprised encouragement from the bemused fish and chip munchers as we weaved through towards the abbey.  The steps were finally conquered (well after a fashion, I had run 30 miles by then) and I resisted the temptation to stop for an ice cream at the top.

I had started to experience some nice cramping as a combination of the heat of the day, and my lack of recent training started to catch up with me. I never really managed to shift the cramp for the remainder of the race and stopping to stretch the calves slowed things even more.  The constant ups and downs of hills and steps showed no mercy and after a receiving a lovely welcome from the enthusiastic crew at the aid station, the punishment was quickly resumed on the steep descent into Robin Hoods Bay.

The next section was a long steady climb up to Ravenscar where Mum and Dad would be waiting. They had already located my dropbag and Dad helped me stretch my calves yet again and fetched a sugary tea whilst I smashed some rice pudding. By now I was tired but my resolve to finish was growing with 41 hard miles in the bag. My body ached but the ankle was showing no signs of worsening so I pressed on.

The route between Ravenscar to Scarborough was for me the most enjoyable running of the day. The worst of the heat had subsided and I knew the route from walking it with Bobby earlier in the summer. Good progress was made considering how knackered I was feeling.

Mum and Dad met me at each end of the long promenade in Scarborough which was great as I was seriously in need of a lift by now.  Mum and I ran the 50 yards into the last aid station hand in hand where I sat down, regrouped and fuelled up on watermelon and Jaffa Cakes.  It was time to put on my headtorch for the last push to Filey as the sun had now set. The tide was in now and waves were crashing over the walls in the last of the light.

With Dad's instructions to 'get back on my toes' ringing in my ears I reluctantly left the relative comfort of the station and headed off into the night.  I soon caught a few other runners which was handy as I was worried about getting lost in the dark.  Even when I passed someone I always ensured I was in sight of a twinkling headtorch. Fortunately it was a clear night with good light from the stars, still taking care with every step, I heard a tawny owl hooting some encouragement from somewhere close by.

There was no let up from the torture of the steps even down to the last mile. It was a relief to emerge into the streetlights of Filey now after 10 pm and Dad was waiting for me there.  We ran the last few hundred yards together which was a really nice moment as he and Mum had been with me all the way on what had now been a really long day.

Only finishers get a shirt - Wear with pride!

It was a tough race in attritional conditions.  Well done to the Hardmoors team and all of the volunteers who put on another fantastic event.  Respect to everyone who stepped up to the start line and gave it their best whether you made it or not..

It was probably not my wisest move to attempt this run with the injury but in the end I was lucky and came away largely unscathed (save for the standard grumbling legs).  I have to be satisfied with finishing in the first 50 out of  almost 200 starters given I didn't think I had a chance of  making the start line only a fortnight ago.

The course, injuries and the heat took their toll on the 30 or so who didn't make it to the finish. Not the case apparently for winner Martin Murray who finished in an impressive 10.03.  The headlines will however be stolen by one runner who found time to rescue a drowning child at Sandsend en route to his finish. Hats off to you Sir!

So that's it, I'm going to take a break from the long stuff after 3 tough ultras in the last 6 months.  I have earned the right to tow the start line at two of the mightiest trail races in the world by qualifying for the UTMB and the Western States this year and for that I am thankful.  As it will be my first entry into the ballot, the chances are slim but thats fine, its been an epic 14 months of ultra running adventures to get here no matter what.  As you would expect I already have a Plan B for 2016 which is just as exciting, looking forward to seeing what it brings!

Thanks to Mum and Dad for the support on this race, you did way more than I could have asked for. Thanks also to everyone who has supported me in any way along the last year or so with my running. I am so lucky to have such supportive colleagues, friends and family and without you I am sure I would never have made it.

Looking forward to adding to my trail running cv in 2016, watch this space!

The South Downs Way 100 - 13/06/2015

'Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting. So... get on your way!' - Dr Seuss

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.

Friday night registration and kit check - it all sounds so simple!

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.

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.

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.

Big skies - summer shows itself on the SDW

Man those chalk and flint trails are tough on the plates of meat

Soon after a quick stop at Jack and Jill the iconic windmills at 70 miles, I was climbing up to Ditchling Beacon and a familiar face was running towards me.  Rachel had hiked up the trail and it was great to run with her for a mile or so.  When we got towards the car I stopped to check out my feet as I could feel a pressure blister building on my right heel.  Bobby quickly slapped on some compeed to provide a little protection and I winced in pain as I eased my battered foot back into my shoe.

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.

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.

Buckles are awarded at 100 mile races rather than medals to acknowledge their roots in old horseback trail events in the US 

100 mile events are brutal and could not be achieved by mere mortals without the assistance of so many volunteers who deliver care, compassion and encouragement in truckloads all in their own time.  Thankyou so much for making this possible, the Centurion Running community is very special.

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.