The Beast

Another weekend, another Maverick adventure… This time we were off down to the South west Coast to run the Exmoor X Series ultra. Some usual suspects for this one with Nick driving us down, Ale hopping in for his first ultra (that he didn’t want to do) and Carl also being roped in to tag along too for what would be his first Maverick event (not counting two weeks in Borneo!). Whatever lay ahead, there was sure to be lots of smiling and laughter with this group.

We knew it would be tough. Maverick don’t shy away from advertising this event as a difficult one. The nickname of ‘The Beast’ alone should be an indication of its difficulty. If not, the elevation profile with somewhere over 2,000m should give you all you need to know – there are some fruity climbs along the SWCP to be tackled in this event. We didn’t have any goals as, whatever time we’d finish, we had nowhere to be or go. We’d booked dinner in the hotel so had little to worry about. We estimated probably about 8 hours or so though.

As we sauntered down the start line, some time after the main pack of runners had already set off, Race Director Ben gave us some insight and that they’d clocked closer to 60km when marking up the course. Always good to know and to set the brain to a target distance! Bell ringing, we pranced off, down into and around the field as we began our journey along the coastal path.

Let the Shit Slinging commence!

Theme of the day was ‘Shit Slinging‘ a rather naughty, unhygienic but unapologetically funny game we’ve started playing on some runs. Without all the detail, you get points for kicking shit at each other. As simple as that. Into that first field there were legs flying everywhere. To anyone who saw us they must have been wondering what on earth we were up too. I think Carl stormed to an early lead.

After the first climb along an open hillside we hit onto some lovely trail paths that wound back down to the coast and to the Valley of Rocks. We’d stopped by here the night before for a post meal walk. It had incredible views and the sunset the night before was mesmerising. We turned right and ran along the coast path as I continued stopping at every opportunity to kick goat shit in the direction of the others. It even earned a little laugh from a lovely old couple who stepped aside to let us pass. We were enjoying ourselves! Rounding a blind corner I stopped to wait for Nick and pretend to ‘sling some shit’ at him, as I faked the manoeuvre, to my horror it wasn’t Nick but another runner he’d let passed. Oops. I don’t think he appreciated the fright!

Further ahead was Jake and Faye capturing the magic with the incredible back drop of the Valley of Rocks behind us. Fist bumps all round and a big cheer for Carl who they hadn’t seen since we left Borneo 16 months ago!

More magical footpaths saw us wind back down and around Lynmouth Harbour before we began the next climb. All along this section were familiar faces, first off Giffy climbing ahead of us along the woodland paths. Next up we found Rosie who was marshalling along a road section and making sure we’d not miss the turning. It was two years since we all met at the LoveTrails festival and camped together! It really feels like just yesterday that we met. Then. as the climb steepened along another open hillside, ‘Gaddy’ came up behind us. We’d met briefly for the first time queuing up at the toilets many hours earlier, but this was now a chance to properly say hello and have a chat before he powered on ahead.

As the climb came to an end at Countisbury, we began the decent along one of the more technical parts of the course, with loose scree and a sheer drop to the ocean. It was Phil who was lurking nearby to capture the incredible view for the runners at this spot. It was slow going here as a bottleneck began to form on the single track path. Shortly after reaching the bottom, we arrived at the first aid station and spent quite some time joking and chatting with Justin, the other RD and Maverick Founder.

From here we enjoyed several miles of undulating coastal path, with sections winding through beautiful lush green forests. It was so peaceful and tranquil that it was easy to loose yourself and enjoy the run, even though at times the bottlenecks would form again on the tight and narrow paths. We were fortunate that we didn’t encounter too many walkers and hikers as there were a lot of runners now bunched together.

There was another steep climb to navigate as we first climbed through the forest tracks before tackling the bulk of the climb through open fields in the heat of the midday sun. Up top, several runners broke for a rest as we plodded along after the course split. More undulating miles before we dropped down into the seaside town or Porlock Weir. Here we could smell the cooking of fresh seafood and smoky BBQs on the go. Thankfully though our next aid station was here and our bellies didn’t mis out.

I didn’t know at the time, but this aid station was supported by Justin’s parents. It was by far the best one and possibly the best aid station I’ve ever had the pleasure of stopping at during a maverick event. Pineapple. my favourite fruit and so refreshing. Mrs B was chopping away and could barely keep up as I kept taking chunks of fresh pineapple. Washed down with salted potatoes, crisps, sweats, biscuits and Milka cake bars (another new discovery for me, these were delicious). We had a good 10 minutes here and continued chatting with Justin as he arrived to check up on everything. It was a good stop and much needed. Nick was experiencing an early bonk and was struggling for some energy it was a good opportunity for him to eat and the cooked potatoes were another great addition to the aid station spread!

Refuelled, we headed back out. We knew the next section was going to be tough as it was the largest climb of the course. a straight up 400m climb. Not something to be scoffed at. No way to tackle it other than steady, relentless plodding forward. One thing at the back of my mind that was empowering here was knowing that, as we climbed, we were gradually turning back on the loop at West Porlock. Once we’d reach the top, we’d be around halfway through and from here on in running back in the direction of the finish. Always a good feeling. Part way up we met Gaddy again and soon after the summit he joined us and we all ran along together for a little while.

This part of the route was more of the same with a few little climbs and descents separated with undulating trails through open hilltops and dense forest footpaths. It really was a beautiful course and such a variety of terrains and footpaths. We’d been leapfrogging a number of other runners at this point and occasionally split into smaller groups chatting away with each other. After narrowly missing a headshot at Nick, an opportunity presented itself with some fresh (goat?) shit lining up in my path directly behind Carl. Like a pro I swung my leg and struck the sweetest of shit slings with a direct hit on Carl’s arm. He was not happy, understandably so. Me, I was in hysterics. I thought I was so funny. I told you it isn’t glamourous!

The fun soon came to an end though when a few of the group were running back towards us. Somehow we’d gone wrong. I remember seeing a sign that was pointing one way and I’d clearly misinterpreted its direction. The course marking was good, we’d fucked up. Running back on ourselves we were now behind most of the groups of runners we’d passed sometime ago, including ‘Hop-a-long’ and ‘Bagel-man’. Other runners always have endearing nicknames to us. All was not lost though as we embarked on a really enjoyable downhill section with incredible views over the town of Oare. It really was beautiful and an enjoyable downhill. We stopped briefly to chat with Chris and another who were doing some course clearing / marking and gave them the heads up that there was a sign that was easily misinterpreted. We carried on our way before arriving at the next aid station.

That View!

Here Justin was yet again. Doing an incredible job on the organising. Stuffing our faces yet again, we were chatting away when I noticed a few things. Firstly the runners at the aid station were looking a little worse for wear. It was a very challenging course and understandable to be feeling that way. We probably had about 10 miles (and a good few hours) still ahead of us. Secondly, I noticed Nick was coming out of his slump. The food was going in and his energy levels were higher than they were previously. I saw the opportunity and hurried us all along and back onto the course before he started peaking and hitting a sugar rush. I wanted us to be on the move when that happened.

Restarting began with an enjoyable downhill section before we hit the beautiful and pristine area of Brendon. Somewhere here we were greeted by an emu too! A volunteer directed us along the course with a cheerful “please be respectful” and we soon found out why. the section was delightful and we passed through a country house were the owner came out to confirm we were too pass through their property. he wished us well and cheered us on.

Hello!

From here we picked up the riverside path that ran along side the East Lyn River. Justin had told us that the second half of the route was delightful and he wasn’t lying. After the pleasure of the SWCP earlier in the day, winding along the river bed with more undulating footpaths was glorious. The dense woodlands offered us plenty of shade and Carl and Ale powered us along at a steady pace. this section flew by in no time at all and before we knew it we were back out on a road and nearing the next aid station.

River path

We were doing a bit of math now. I thought we’d have less than 9km to go, Ale and Carl were estimating closer to the 9km. At the aid station they told us it was 12km to go. Gaaah. We weren’t’ convinced though. Surely it was slightly off otherwise our GPS really couldn’t be trusted! With a big cheer and sadistic laugh we were sent off on our next climb which was probably the steepest of the last four facing us. Ale was holding up and was well beyond the Ultra territory now. Not bad for someone a few days earlier had been told by a physio to not run more than 5km! I’m sure he was enjoying it in his own way, but he was vocal about how boring it was. He’s lucky there was no shit around at this point to kick at him.

In-between the next climb was an incredible section of downhill switch backs. the paths were so fun to run and it really did remind me of some of the overseas locations. Steep climbs, rocky technical footpaths, dense green forests and winding footpaths rather than the typical rolling hill climbs of other national parks. I was beaming and really enjoying the area. Shame it really is so far to drive to from London!

We soon passed by Lynton and the Gulf petrol station at Barbrook which we’d driven passed several times already this weekend. from here we knew it wasn’t far to go. We’d now just be circling around the main road (which wouldn’t be safe to run along) before crossing directly opposite from the campsite/finish line. First up one last climb that I agree was quite dull, wide long gravel roads. The beautiful day was going grey and it was starting to try to rain. Into the deep end now, nothing left but to grin and bare it. head down, keep moving. With a few km to go we passed Brit and some other maverick Volunteers who cheered us across. Just the last road section to the campsite and down hill into the finish line.

All four of us, side by side we crossed that line like we had 9 hours earlier. We took our medals and the never ending amount of freebies from Maverick and joined the many familiar faces sitting down. Reka who’d finished many hours earlier (a machine she is!) was asking us if we’d seen Gif. It really had been a long time since we saw her waaaaay back before that first aid station. I went back to the car to get some warmer clothes and we soon saw Gaddy cross the line too. As we hopped in the car to head back for Dinner, Gif was coming down the final straight.

That night we were all very tired and exhausted. Thankfully we didn’t have to hobble far for dinner which was absolutely brilliant too. The next morning we began the next ultra – the long drive back to London…

Bitchin

‘Bitchin’. Nope, not great or wicked. Just two middle age men actually bitchin for 13 hours. Nothing cool to see here. Nothing cool at all…

Bitchin is pretty much all me and Ged did whilst we ran the Ultra X Spring Series 100km. It led to a lot of laughter, passed a lot of time, and confirmed how similar we are. Nothing was safe from the sting of our words. None of it was really justified either, nonetheless that is how we rolled in our latest ultra marathon adventure.

I was probably already in a sub conscious bitchin mode leading up to the race where, due to my own lack of research and preparation, I realised I couldn’t get to the start line in time for the 06:00 start. The Race Directors were accommodating though and Ged and his mum stepped in to save my embarrassments with a lift down. Mini crisis adverted.

The start line was a very subdued place at 06:00 in the morning. With a small field of 100km runners we were split into the two allocated starting groups, given a count down and sent off in groups of about 30 people. Nattering away as we ran out of the recreational ground towards the road, our bitchin began. We couldn’t understand why everyone was running so fast already. Amateurs we thought, they’ll all bonk soon enough. We were pumping out a 10 hour 100 km pace for no reason at all. Many, many hours later we apologetically retracted this statement when we had passed maybe 2 or 3 people from that group only. They clearly had their plans and strategies like we had ours!

Pre race smiles

Running on, we were very much aware that the 3 biggest hills and climbs of the race were in this first 13 miles (which we’d complete again as the last 13 miles as we’d loop back in the opposite direction for the second half of the race), yet being full of energy and excitement, we didn’t notice these hills and barely felt them as we ran down (and up) steadily with fresh morning legs.

We did then get lost after a few miles, but we were not alone. Coming down off a trail descent we joined a country lane where the course markings vanished. Left, right or straight down were the choices. Some runners were coming back from the right and more joined us from behind (the second group of 100km runners who set off after us). With confused looks we all headed left and a few moments later across a cattle grid and straight down, then we all stopped as differing opinions on whether this was correct or if we should have followed the road rather than cross the cattle grid became clear. One runner (who I later realised was Scott Jenkins) was adamant we were right and Ged and I soon stuck with him. A few hundred meters later we then found some course markings once more. What had happened here we do not know! Yep, we bitched about the markings.

Early on, enjoying the ideal morning conditions

Back on track, it wasn’t long before we hit the first indication of the bogs and mud we’d encounter this day. It was nothing major but soon we were splashing through waterlogged fields and fully submerging our feet in the cooling water. At this point one of my shoes came off in the sticky mud. I managed to recover it before loosing it completely, but needed to stop to get it back on. As I sat on a log to readjust, my whole core started cramping and I couldn’t reach my feet, much to Ged’s delight. What a state to be in so soon!

We carried on as the surface became progressively more muddy and we were sliding all over the place as we approached the first aid station. We pretty much ran straight through as it was only 11 km in and didn’t need anything so early on. Ged’s mum was here, as she was throughout the day at each aid station to cheer us on.

The next section was full of the epic views of the Serpent Trail, exactly as I recalled it from when I ran the Serpent Trail 100km event way back in 2018! A beautiful landscape of thousands of trees with roaming views of the South Downs peaking through in between. Every now and again the forest would drop away to reveal the bareness of the hilly summits and reveal the scenic views in all their glory. Before long we were up running along some mountain bike tracks (which I vividly recalled from 2018) and into the second aid station. Here we stopped briefly and chatted to the volunteers including updating them on the sections were markings were missing/sparse and we’d gone wrong.

Soggy feet as we track towards halfway

From here to the third aid station was all a blur to me. I did slowly recall bits of it later in the day when we were back tracking along it. But, at the time, I must have switched off and been too engrossed in the bitchin to really notice it and take it in. Closing in on that third aid station we noted we were roughly a 1/3 of the way into the race. Which was good, because the legs started to feel like they’d done some running by now!

The volunteers at this next aid station were full of energy and we exchanged a few jokes and laughs with them. They lifted our spirits as we set back out for the last section back to the start/halfway/finish line point. This next section was an adventure for sure. The longest and trickiest part of the route I thought. There were a few sections that were very muddy. One short down hill section followed by two muddy climbs. Zigzagging down that first section we started to wonder at which point we’d be passed by the lead 100km runners coming back towards us or the 50km runners coming from behind and over taking us. Both seemed a real possibility as we started the 10km countdown to half way.

The up hill mud sections demanded a bit more effort from the legs as the mud started to sap our energy and we looked for the best line to climb along. Halfway up that second climb the first few runners leading the 100km started picking us off. Great effort, probably about 10km and over an hour ahead of us. The first runner was flying along and had a substantial lead on 2nd and 3rd at this point. As we started levelling out into some of the fields and road sections for the final approach to the 50km mark we started passing a number of the half marathon runners. We weren’t sure where they came from nor what point the courses joined up. Either way it gave us a buzz as we powered on.

Half way was upon us. I took a strategic stop here whilst Ged was reunited with his family. Quite possibly one of my fastest mid-race turnarounds where I was in and out in just over ten minutes with some fresh clothes and refuelled ready to go again. Unprecedented for me as I do love a good sit down and chin wag at half way, usually needing to be coaxed back out on to the course…

Coming into the finish, time to turn around and do it all again

The energy for the second half was high. As we ran we were now passing loads of runners from the 50km race and the rest of the pack in the 100km one too. As always, the vast majority of runners responded positively to a hello and offered up encouragement to us also. You can’t beat that buzz. Ged and I talked about this for quite sometime. It can make or break a race for some people. A smile can change your emotions, a “well done” or “Great effort” can pull you out of a dark place. BUT, you have to do it for yourself. So often you see people completely absorbed in the moment and struggling. If you can’t muster a smile or a grunt, you won’t find a way out and will continue to suffer. You need to make the corners of your own mouth move. If you’re reading this, try it! Smile, you’ll instantly feel better about everything.

We decided to play a little game and started repeating to the next runners what previous runners had said to us. My personal favourites were “You look fabulous”, “Brilliant, Brilliant” and “top work chaps” which was unfortunately repeated to some females. Hey ho, that was the game. Quite possibly thought, what made me laugh most was how I kept mishearing what Ged was saying. Every time he said “Well done” to someone, I heard “yeah whatever”. It was a perfect response for our bitchin mood and I really wish he was saying that. I’d love to know what reaction that would create if someone said it to you mid race!

It was time for the muddy sections once more and we couldn’t have been in a better place for them. High with energy, certain of what lay ahead, running down hill, seeing the pain and torture on the faces of those climbing it for the first time and sticking to the best line like we did earlier… we just went for it. We didn’t hold back and splashed on straight through, straight down. Practically hurdling our way downhill as the mud reached our knees in places. We were absolutely loving it. We couldn’t give a shit if we fell (it would have been soft!) or who we splashed with mud along the way. There was no better way to get through it. Wet and muddy was inevitable, we knew that, those climbing hadn’t yet come to accept the same fate. It was all too brief though as we completed each section so quickly. How neither of us face planted into the floor we’ll never know.

Along the way we passed many familiar faces like Ellis and Charlie doing the 50km. Each one lifting us up and giving us a buzz. We felt like heroes as we continued playing our game as, surprisingly, we kept meeting more and more runners all the way back to the third (now fifth) aid station. A huge cheer from the volunteers welcomed us back in as we all picked up where we left them many hours earlier with the jokes. I had to take a minute here, sitting on a tree stump next to a speaker pumping out classics hits, to empty my shoes of all the junk I’d be collecting along the way.

From here I couldn’t remember for the life of me what lay ahead on those trails I’d previously blocked out. We were both struggling to remember each section and the pace began to drop off as we walked pretty much every hill from this point back. The legs, specifically my ankles, were beginning to let their feelings known to me. Rightly so, the aches and pains were settling in.

We couldn’t have been far from the next aid station when the ‘heavens opened’. What started as a soft trickle of rain soon turned into an almighty downpour of hail. It was a little refreshing as we discussed whether we were going to stop and layer up. We opted not too. All around us were clear skies. It looked like a passing storm and neither of us fancied ‘boiling like a chicken’ in a waterproof jacket. We stuck it out and a short while later the summer sun briefly repaid our faith. It was a glorious evening now.

Into the second aid station we did a quick stop and refuel, acknowledging from here it was a mere 25km to go. We knew this was the point of the ultra where it would be come a slog. Time to dig deep for what was left. We set back out, running once more through the mountain bike tracks and the now very muddy and sloppy trails. They had been churned up by hundreds of runners and were now far less appealing to run than they were earlier in the day.

Beaming with BDE

We briefly passed some photographers gathering some drone footage on a hill through the forest tracks before we came slip sliding into the final aid station where the volunteers outnumbered us 5 to 1. Grabbing some cheese and onion crisps I received some odd looks from the volunteers when I excitedly asked if the lumps of cheese were lumps of butter. Disappointed, I stuffed cheese and Haribo into my gob. A strange combo I probably wouldn’t repeat again. I really wanted butter now!!

The last 11 km back to the event village was slow and arduous. I was in pain. My dodgy ankle was screaming with every step. Nothing to do except keep moving and make steady progress. From here we knew the course was basically 3 descents and 3 climbs. Lots of hiking ahead with gravity powering the running in between. We ploughed on, gradually making up some ground on a guy in front of us whilst simultaneously holding off two more who were gaining on us. Grin and bare it.

Clearly bitchin’ about something

Ged kept me going. He kept me distracted from the pains. Kept the bitchin’ coming even now many hours later. Occasionally we’d break rank to retract and excuse a bitch that escaped our mouths and which wasn’t justified. Mostly he kept the energy level there, despite it all we were having fun. And that was one of the moments of realisation of the day – we were having fun. You create your own fun and despite it all, we fucking love this. This is exactly the type of challenge we revel in… Earlier on, as is inevitable, we’d been discussing ultra running. Our experiences both shared and individual, what drove us and what dragged us through. It is here we talked about an effect that we came to call ‘BDE’ – Big Dick Energy.

BDE, we decided, was a mental state we work ourselves into during ultra marathons. A point of sheer confidence and arrogance. An unwavering sense of belief in ourselves and our abilities. A selfish expectation of deserving something, being better than everything and when nothing gets in your way of getting what you want. BDE was that invisible force that propels you onwards in the adventure whilst keeping you away from the darkness the mind can so easily slip into. You make that BDE, whatever it is that can shift you into this unreasoning state of focus, you take it. Right now I was seeping BDE from all my pores, radiating it like a jacket potato ready to explode in a microwave. To anyone I passed I was peacocking the smile and laughter that inevitably draws comments like “you don’t look like you’ve just run an ultra marathon”. I’d take those comments, absorb them and convert them into more BDE, a self sustaining aura fuelling the determination to get to the end. No one would know the pain and suffering inside.

We joked and referenced BDE endlessly through the second 50km. This was the experience of having ‘been there, got the tee shirt’. We knew what we were doing and that only comes with trying, failing, succeeding and repeating. I’ve said it many times before, running is hard. No run is ever “easy”. It’s the perception you create to get the run done that changes. BDE.

We hit that last climb. Out on the road now we were powering up. Me fast hiking, Ged shuffling part run part walk. We were laughing all the way to the end. We crossed that finish line surround by Ged’s family who themselves completed another ultra of their own chasing us around the course for 14 hours. Another 100km done. Another medal for the box of pain.

I’ll remember this day for three main things. Firstly, the vocalisation of BDE. Secondly, the amount of mud (it was far muddier than I expected). I don’t think I’ve emptied my shoes as frequently in a race as I did in this one. Three times I stopped to empty the shoes, once I had to stop because a mound of mud had formed under the ball of my foot. It was completely distorting the fit of my shoes, almost like I had a hard insert between my sole and sock. It was so bad I had to scrape all the mud out with my fingers and drag my sock on the grass like I’d stepped in shit. A new experience for sure. The third thing I’ll remember the run for was the bitching. We bitched about everything you can imagine. It was like we had this faux anger at every and anything we could think of. It passed the time so well and was equally therapeutic as it was pathetic if you’d heard us moaning. At one point we even bitched about colours and why something red wasn’t blue because we happened to think blue was a better colour choice. Anything we could moan about we did, and it made me smile so much.

As always though, none of these memories would exist without the excellent company. It truly does make these adventures. Cheers to Ged, he’s a top ‘chap’ and it had been far, far too long since we last ran a race like this together back in 2018!!

The Longworth family support
Finish line. Again

North Downs Ridge 50km

It was somehow already the beginning of May and I found myself heading back down to the ever too familiar trails of the North Downs Way for the Freedom Racing North Downs Ridge 50k. This race was one of the ones that was cancelled earlier in the year and one that, in some ways, contradicted my Modus Operandi for races – which is to only do events that I really want to do (despite how obvious that may sound!). It’s the route you see. I’ve run It so many times (and you’ve read me type it so many times…) and this particular section of the North Downs Way which includes my least favourite part of the trail (purely because it’s so damn runnable!). It is because of the organiser though that I signed up. This was to be my third Freedom Racing event after the Serpent Trail and the Hurtwood and I’ve enjoyed each one immensely. FR are a small, family centred events company which I’m happy to support. So, off I went.

Tom, the Race Director, had adopted the now very familiar flexible start line approach for this event. I opted for the ‘faster’ time slot and arrived for 8am with a rough 5.5 hr finish in my mind (justifying starting in this group rather than the later group).

The start was easy. I walked from Dorking station to the event HQ at Denbies Vineyard. When I arrived it was straight into a short queue for registration. Bib and dabber collected, I went to the toilet and changed quickly in the field, dropped my bag off and then walked into the starting pen. I was the only one. No queuing. I dib-dabbed in and off I trotted.

The short queue at registration

The route starts with a short stretch and climb out of the Vineyard as you join the tarmac path of the first climb to the church at Ranmore. I wouldn’t normally run this but I was fresh and eager so I plodded on upwards. Passing the few walkers as I reached the top, I continued in the gentle pace I’d settled into with my heart full of joy of another adventure underway.

I mentioned a rough 5.5 hr finish time I had in mind, but really I had no real aims for the day and a sub 6 hour finish would, as always, be a good day out for a 50k for me. As a fairly hilly route with an out and back set up I’d be happy with that. Immediately after starting out though, I devised a game to keep the brain occupied – I’d keep a count of the people I passed and the people who passed me. I’d try and remain with a positive count by the end of the race. A small challenge but one with great potential for distracting the mind throughout the run. As I’d started behind the ‘slower’ group but at the start of the ‘faster’ group, I assumed it would be a comparable count each way. I added the rule that being ‘passed’ involved people overtaking me, people running in the opposite direction as me before I turned around (at about mile 12.5) and again people I saw coming the other way on the final loop. So potentially some runners could hit my count 3 times.

The view at Ranmore

It started good. The numbers were positive despite a few speedsters soaring passed (all in carbon road shoes I noted, the trails were very dry…) and it was steady progress. None of the hills here and until the sandy climb to St. Martha’s were steep enough to consider walking so I just kept plodding along. I skipped through the first aid station as it was only about 5 miles in. I had enough food and water to last a while and knew it would help avoid it becoming too busy as the first ones always do.

Those first 12 miles then wizzed by and and a few familiar smiling faces helped add a little atmosphere and buzz to the day. I was heading down the descent from at St. Martha’s to the next aid station, where we’d turn around, and my number count was going haywire. I was around 50 and suddenly struggled to keep count as I passed runners and runners came towards and passed me. I was suddenly around 20 by now.

I then almost stepped on some Goodr sunglasses and stopped to pick them up, checking with each runner coming passed if they’d dropped them. I had better luck as I announced my arrival at the aid station with a loud “anyone drop their glasses?” to which thankfully someone realised they had indeed dropped them. Chatting to the lady I completely lost count of who came and went in the aid station. So I stopped my game and pigged out on sausage rolls, flapjacks and frazzles. Delightful. Fully stocked I headed back out, jogging the climb to St Martha’s once more.

On the return leg, more familiar faces were there with big hi fives from Meg and Daisy and a fleeting hello to Frank at the top of the hill. Back down the sandy path I went. Beaming in the sunny, warm mid morning sunshine.

Running back to the next aid station and onto Denbies again was all very unmemorable. I just kept steady, holding the pace and realising that I was actually holding pace for a solid effort at a sub 5hr 50k. I don’t think I’d ever gone sub 5 before. Other than a marathon distance and 100 miles, I’ve no idea what any of my PBs actually are. But now I had a new game to play, a new way to occupy my mind for the last ten or so miles. I just needed to keep on steady and hold the pace…

I briefly stopped to refill some water at Denbies and carried on for the final loop. This section, as we’d head towards the village of Westhumble, was new to me. Straight away we were met with a long ol’ road incline which warranted a walk. No point busting a gut here. It was much longer than I expected and glancing at the watch I noted that the elevation gain ticked over 700m. I wasn’t expecting that much elevation for the day either, but it made me feel strong, given how little walking I’d done and how comfortable I felt.

Soon I was back on trails and it was delightful to experience a few miles of new trails to explore. The whole loop was deceivingly uphill which I tried to hold my pace on. By the time I’d completed the loop and was heading back down the road section I saw that I’d done another 100m of elevation gain. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Back through the vineyard

Crossing back over the NDW it was now down into Denbies for the final straight through some of the vineyard and across the finish line. Dib dab done. I stopped the watch and I was a few mins under 5 hours. Tidy. I’ll have some of that.

Medal hunter

I dropped the timing chip off. Collected my bag and checked the train times. With one in 20 mins I knew I had time for a quick change of clothes and a fast hike to the station. I stopped to get a picture next to the Freedom Racing trailer and a rapid chat with Tom the RD, thanking him for another excellent adventure before I trundled off.

Another day, another race. Another sense of achievement. Job done.

The Ones That Got Away

The Covid-19 pandemic. From a purely selfish running perspective will be remembered, by me, for the absence of 16 events I would have completed. Yes, would have – despite the challenges they pose, I believe you have to attack them with confidence. That’s a fair few events and the ones I’m classing as the ones that ‘got away’, the ones that, someday sooner or later, I will conquer….

Each one of these events represented a different challenge, different reasons why I’d signed up to them and also different reasons why they eventually didn’t happen. One day I’m sure I’ll want to remember these details, so here’s a summary…

Hardmoors 55 – An adventure with mates. Instigated by Jon, as this was to be one of his races in preparation for his maiden 100 mile run (the SDW100). A group of 6 of us agreed to go north to Yorkshire and tackle this 55 mile, unmarked ultra by one of the well renown and respected event organisers in the running world. Scheduled for the end of March 2020, it was inevitably the first of my scheduled races to bite the dust as the UK was plunged into lockdown two weeks beforehand. Rescheduled for November it was once again cancelled when the second lockdown was implemented. I’m now deferred to race in March 2022. Third time lucky…

Boston Marathon – This one hurt. One of the World Marathon Majors. Everyone knows about Boston Marathon, the history and the prestige but also the difficulties in qualifying. My sub 3hour marathon (at Berlin 2018) gained me that Boston Qualifying time. In 2019 it still wasn’t enough and I didn’t have enough of a buffer with all the BQ applicants. 2020 I was a year older, my BQ time flattered by an extra 5 mins for my new age group, I was in. Then I wasn’t. Patriots day was mid-April and countries all around the world were deep into lockdown. Just a few weeks before the event it was all called off. It was a pain to cancel all the flights and hotels and try to recuperate expenses for what is a very financially demanding race! The organisers later rescheduled the event for September but this too was also cancelled and made into a virtual event. I ran the virtual Boston race purely for the finshers items. 2021 was postponed from patriots day (which landed on my Birthday) and is now planned for October. I shall roll the dice again and hope my BQ time is good enough for the reduced field size proposed for the 125th Boston Marathon. It won’t be the same, but it will still happen….one day.

Maverick Snowdon X Series – I’d planned to do the Snowdon X Series ultra with a group of friends from the Wild Trail Runners. May was too soon and it was inevitable that this event was cancelled. Sadly it’s not scheduled for 2021 either so I will have to wait patiently. Thankfully I was able to move my entry to their Peak District X Series Ultra which DID go ahead in 2020….

Maverick Original Sussex – A short one at a mere 20km, I signed up to this for the joy and atmosphere of Maverick Races. Another early summer race that was quickly cancelled. I’m deferred onto the 2021 event in a few weeks which IS going ahead. I can’t wait to run with the Maverick lot again!

Edinburgh Marathon – This one I never really wanted to do, but I agreed to run it with someone else. Nothing against Edinburgh, just it seems a bit of a pain in terms of logistics. Still, it was postponed, then it was cancelled and became another virtual event which I did. I took the voucher option after it was cancelled and recently it was announced that the 2021 event has also been cancelled. I don’t know when, but this one will be near the bottom of the list of events I rearrange to conquer…

Strandja Fjord – A big trip to Norway was planned for August. Over ten of us were venturing to the Fjords for what felt like it would be a real adventure. The 100km race has over 7,000m of elevation and some quite brutal looking terrain. Sadly none of us were surprised when this one was also cancelled and we immediately deferred to 2022. I did partake in the virtual event (with just 2 other participants on the 100km virtual!!) they held for this as I had a back up race planned – After signing up to the NDW100 I then went and booked this event on the same day. I never cancelled my place on the NDW100 and it did happen. So I submitted the run for the virtual event and claimed my “Corona Edition” tee shirt as a bonus.

Wild Boar (Persenk) Ultra – This race in Bulgaria was another one I never wanted to do. I’d never even heard of it. After failing to get their place in the CCC ballot, Jon and Ged hatched a plan and came across this little known race in the mountains of Bulgaria. Before I knew it I too was tagging along. And then I wasn’t. After not wanting to do it, now I REALLY want to do it. The race did go ahead towards the end of August, however the travel restrictions meant that, one by one, everyone else planning to go had to pull out. I came so close to going by myself. The flights and accommodation were booked, the quarantine was arranged, the mandatory bear bell was purchased, work even signed me off to work remotely from Bulgaria. Ultimately it came down to the fact it wouldn’t quite be the same without everyone else and it wouldn’t have been the right thing to do – suddenly jump on a plan and travel during a pandemic. I bailed. Other commitments mean this isn’t going to happen in 2021, but who knows for 2022….

Chicago Marathon – We knew fairly early on that this one also wouldn’t happen. Another World Major Marathon, there was no way that an event of this scale would take place in October. A blessing at first as I’d booked two massive ultras and a marathon in America in the same month. But then the whole month was cancelled…. Chicago Marathon have been great with their refund policies and I have the option to run the race in either 2021, 2022 or 2023. I won’t be doing it in 2021 due to other deferrals and the crossed fingers for Boston! 2022 we will see…

Cappadocia Ultra Trail – This has been on the wish list for a few years. I’ve heard so many fantastic things about the Urgup region and the Cappadocia Trail. Sadly it wasn’t meant to be and I’m really hoping it does get to go ahead in 2021. The benefit of the deferral has been that there is now an even bigger group of us booked to go this year!

13 Valleys Ultra – This was a new race planned for 2020. Through some contacts I’d managed to get a place at the event and I was very excited to go run around the Lake District (I’ve still never been). Unfortunately, being a new event, the organisers just didn’t have the option to plan and prepare everything needed during a lockdown to be able to execute the event the way they wished. I’m hoping they are able to bring the event to life in the years to come…

Wendover Woods 50 – The first of the substitutes… With so many cancellations, I was frantically trying to replace ‘lost events’ in my calendar. After the success of the Centurion Running NDW100 I signed up and got a place on their Wendover woods 50km. 3 Loops of Wendover Woods, at night…. Nothing about this race appeals to me. One loop of Wendover Woods is painful enough. I’ve run two at night before and it hurt, a lot. Alas, I’m deferred to 2022 (due to a date clash in 2021) and now have and extra 18 months of pre-suffering to endure.

Camino Lea Valley – A small and new ultra from the DazNBone duo that is Camino Ultra. Another substitute for all the other cancellations. Sadly this too was deferred to November and then fully cancelled. Roll on summer 2021 where I will conquer it.

Cheviot Goat – I didn’t want to do this one either. There is a theme here and that theme is “Jon”. Jon talked me into this one also. This one is different though. I don’t want to do it because I know it is going to be tough. Winter in the Cheviots will make it hard. 55 miles in winter in the Cheviots will make it tougher. A single Aid station in 55 miles in winter in the Cheviots will make it very tough. No course markings, a single aid station in 55 miles in winter in the cheviots makes me not want to do it. I’m going to do it in Winter 2021….

Hurtwood Double – I’ve done the Hurtwood 50km in 2019. I’ve run the route many times too. I had no desire to go and do it again. Then after cancelling their 2020 edition and moving it to January, I signed up because they offered a choice to do it twice over two days and claim the Hurtwood Double. Good luck unravelling my logic there. I took the refund when the event was subsequently postponed again and the date moved to one which I already had a race booked in for. I’ll stick with the 2019 medal on this one.

St Peters Way – This was one I talked Nick into. I’ve not run much up in Norfolk and this 40-odd mile point-to-point ultra sounded like a good way to (1) see some of the area (2) get Nick running further than 50km in preparation for his 50 miler later in 2021. The New Year lockdown meant this plan has been shafted into 2022.

North Downs Ridge – I’ve no idea why I signed up to this. I’ve seen enough of the North Downs Way in the last year. I don’t particularly like this section (from a running event perspective). But I did sign up because I’m needy and have issues. I’m now doing it in a few weeks, May 2021….

The Good, The Bad, The Ugly.

Since I started writing down my memories and running adventures, I’ve also summarised each year in a single blog. No different this year, only the content is a little blurred and includes a bit more personal snippets than I usually care to divulge, this being my running blog and all!

So where do I begin? Chronologically of course, but is it possible to recap the year that was 2020 without mentioning “the situation”. Probably not. It sucked for most people. Covid-19 that is. I don’t want to focus on it, but I have to acknowledge it. Like everyone else, it wasn’t the year we expected or planned for. So what started off looking like another action packed year of adventure with races spread across the year ended up being more fragmented with an unbelievable adventure followed by months of lockdown, a frantic flourish of running adventures before ending the year back in lockdown. It really was a year of good, bad and ugly running… 

Way back in January, in the shadow of Brexit, I left the UK late on the evening of the 31st January and began my planned adventures as I flew to New Zealand. The concern of Covid was becoming real and changes at airports and public places were starting to be seen. One week spent exploring the North island of New Zealand with the ‘Trail Maggots’ made me forget all about it. I felt untouchable on the other side of the planet. So off to Rotorua we went as I kicked off my year of running with my virgin ‘miler’ – the 100 mile Tarawera Ultra Marathon. My journey had begun with, once again, my biggest challenge yet!

My first 100 miler

Tarawera – What an experience! What a physically and mentally draining experience at that. But what a rewarding one. Crossing that finish line after 27 hours running around the spectacular lakes, mountains and waterfalls made me feel invincible. A hero to myself. Inside, my achievement gave me that warm satisfactory glow we all desire. I wore my finishers pounamu for weeks. Less so out of pride and more out of fear of losing it. I’ll never earn another medal like it!

Straight after Tarawera I spent another two weeks exploring the South Island of New Zealand with incredible adventures planned with Jorge, Natalia and Sean. I was now officially back at work (remotely) and was fortunate to be able to manage my time and squeeze in plenty of runs and hikes with the others. I didn’t want it to end, this was a dream. I still think about it. The space. The mountains. The tranquillity. New Zealand is a phenomenal place.

Next stop, for another week of work before two more weeks of holiday, was a stop over in Bali for a small piece of rest from running and hiking which, sadly for me, didn’t live up to the touristy hype. The places I visited in Bali were beautiful and dreadful at the same time. Still, I met Amir a few times on my travels here, ran around the Mt Batur volcano rim and recuperated a little ahead of the next adventure.

The next one really was the adventure of a lifetime. Adventures in Borneo. So much to say here. The Maverick team. Joanna, Richard and all the guys at Adventures in Borneo. The group of other runners, all the guides. The jungle. The rivers. The pineapples. The warm and welcoming Borneons… What a country. What an adventure. The only thing that would have made two weeks of running around Borneo (and seeing Orangutans) would be to have finished it off with a race. Oh, wait… I did! On the last day of my adventure I ran the Borneo Ultra Trail Marathon and finished in the top ten ahahaha what?! Told you it was like a dream!

The dream quickly became more of a nightmare though as I left Borneo as they entered a nationwide lockdown and made my way back to the UK. I had just two weeks left in my job and I was now panicking about where the work will come from as, the moment I touched down I was advised to collect my laptop and work from home for the remainder of my contract. The UK I’d returned to was unrecognisable. And not because of Brexit which had dominated our lives for so many years. Within a week of my return the UK had too entered a state of emergency and a national lockdown soon began.

Two weeks after I’d flown home, I joined thousands of others in the rapidly growing unemployment community as the lockdown was enforced and the future became bleaker. I was lost. I was worried. Coming back from 6 weeks away to find I was now out of work was not ideal. Still I was thankful. I had a roof over my head, my health and some savings. I tried to remain positive but did find I was bored very quickly. Even doing all those DIY tasks I’d put off for so long and getting involved with various Instagram challenges (including walking steps everyday throughout April) didn’t occupy my mind enough. Turns out work really does give us a purpose in life! A fortunate turn of events in May meant I did find work again thankfully. I was one of the lucky ones.

And so lockdown continued. Race after race was cancelled. I, like many others faffed about rearranging flights, accommodations and trying to recoup money wherever I could (and now in December still am!). The lockdown brought other benefits though. I found myself running semi frequently. Although starting work again I soon fell out of this routine as I struggled to adapt to a new one entirely built around staying in my bedroom for the majority of the day working. Then, a new challenge lay on the horizon though and my running increased once more. The Centurion Running Community One event. I planned it with a personal challenge – to run the entire Capital Ring route with Paul. What an adventure, what a challenge, I was focused once more. In June, just as lockdown began to ease, we set off on an incredible adventure and a challenging one given the circumstances (access to food, water and support along the way was severely impacted). In just a few weeks though I’d refocused my mind, had a purpose once more and even managed to explore many new routes locally within London in the build up.

Ran around London we did!

Fortunately, as the summer progressed, I maintained running thanks to the series of virtual events organised by Maverick Race. I’ve never been one to get involved with virtual events but these were with a difference. It wasn’t just a “off you go, do what you want” approach. They set up their event village and joined in with us each time and flooded social media throughout the day. It did feel like the closest substitute for a real event and provided a buzz that had been missing for so long. What a community!

In the middle of it all there was also a trip to Chelmsford to run with Joe. Joe and I, along with some others, had been doing various press-up challenges throughout lockdown and out of the blue Joe decided he wanted to run a marathon. So he did. With just a few runs under his belt he jumped straight in and ran a full marathon. What a guy!

As the lockdown restrictions continued and the cancellations came one after the other, wiping out my race plans, I was thrown another unexpected challenge. I had a place in two races on the same day in August and I hadn’t yet pulled out of either. The trip to Norway was inevitably cancelled but the Centurion Running NDW100 was still hoping to proceed. Suddenly, I was in line for another 100 miler again 6 months after my first. How had this happened!? This wasn’t the plan.

With just two months to re-plan and yet again refocus my mind for the next challenge, it is fair to say the training and build up was utter pants. I’m sure it was for everyone with the uncertainty. Truth is, by this point I came to accept that I’ve wrecked my body. My legs ached and hurt constantly. I’ve said it for a while. My approach is not sustainable. I can’t keep running so many long distance events and take the weeks off in between. I need to get back to a consistent level of running and training. The consistency I started to see at the beginning of lockdown was a thing of the past. But, hands up, I’m an addict. I can’t stop myself looking for the next challenge and signing up to more events and places to explore. I can’t convince myself to rest, repair and begin again. Maybe that would be my next challenge –  To find wisdom and search for that sensible bone in my body, before I break that too.

And so, August came…. Further lockdown easing along with changes to operations and protocols meant England Athletics started to agree permits for running events to begin again. NDW had been given the green light. 100 miler numero deux was on. It was happening.

100 miler number two.

It was a formidable challenge. Turns out a heat wave decided to hit the UK that week. As if it wasn’t going to be hard enough already now we had temperatures of high 30s to battle against also. Battle I did and with the help of Nick and Jon as my crew and pacers I earned my 100 mile buckle to go with my Pounamu. 55% of runners DNF’d that day. Perhaps I was still benefiting from running in New Zealand and Borneo earlier that year and had some heat acclimatisation still!

The following week I returned, hobbling, to my favourite event – the Stour Valley Path 100 – for my fourth time. This time though, not as a runner. I volunteered to earn my yellow Tee and give back to an event that I partly hold responsible for my fascination (obsession?) with ultra running. Thanks Mathew! After experiencing the Covid protocols from a running perspective the week before at the NDW100, it was surreal to experience it from the volunteer side that weekend and be part of ensuring the safety and wellbeing of other runners chasing their goals.

Volunteering is all part of the fun

Two weeks later came my first ever DNS (‘Did Not Start’) at the Wild Boar ultra in Bulgaria. We felt it wasn’t right to be swanning off and travelling the world during a pandemic so, instead, I went to Brecon with Jon and co. It was a sort of gentle easing back into running after the rigours of the NDW. I could have risked it and gone to Bulgaria but it wouldn’t have been the adventure I signed up for without all the others there too. Plus, I found the comparably small hills along the North Downs Way far more challenging than I expected. My Mountain legs were gone and I really would have struggled with the elevation of the Bulgarian mountains!!

After the adventures in Brecon, I was now booked into a double weekender with the Farnham Pilgrims marathon the day after the Eden Valley 50km. Earlier in the summer, as races were cancelled I started to book replacements. This worked out well as races started to get the go ahead but with limited places, they were selling out fast! The Eden valley Ultra was a joy. My first run with the Runaway Racing team and a beautiful looped course just South-East of London. The sun was shining for a super warm Indian summer day. I met Arlene and Jon and set off alone to chase a sub 6 hour finish. Coming in about 5 hours 20 with a big smile on my face I headed back to London to rest ahead of the following Day’s adventure.

Really enjoyed the trails on the Eden Valley ultra

The Farnham Pilgrims Marathon was also far better than I expected. Only because It ran along some of the NDW100 route, I assumed it would all be too familiar, but it wasn’t. The sandy course took me through parts of Surrey Hills I’d never explored before and I enjoyed running in the sun once more. The legs definitely felt the pains from the previous day and I completed the marathon in a similar time of just over 5 hours. The support from the Rotary Club throughout the event was top notch. We were well looked after despite the restrictions they had to put in place.

Twinning with Rob

Shortly after my double weekend, we received confirmation that the Cappadocia Ultra Trail in the Urgup region of Turkey was cancelled. We’d expected this and thankfully I hadn’t booked the flights to Turkey yet and didn’t have to worry about chasing any additional refunds. I deferred to 2021 and started crossing my fingers once again. I’ve heard such amazing stories of Urgup and I’m itching to get out their and explore.

September was finished off with my maiden trip to the Peak District with the Maverick Race and their X Series event. This was my first of the X Series events and I was excited to pop my Peak District cherry too. The weekend was fantastic, travelling and exploring with Nick, Ale and Maria. Nick and I ran the whole route together and were accompanied with Daisy who we found at the start line. It had been almost a year since we’d run together and it was great to catch up and hear about all the changes in the last year.

I had such a good time in the Peak District I immediately told the Maverick team I was available to volunteer at their Surrey Hill events the following weekend after my own plans for that weekend were cancelled. A group of us made the way down from London to help out which involved running part of the course, marshalling a road crossing, screaming and shouting into the rain and then helping sweep up the course markings after the final runners. It was good to be out volunteering again and it made me reflect on the different volunteer roles I’d supported events with over the past year. Definitely reach out to event organisers and offer up your support if you are contemplating volunteering.

Still high with excitement I managed to bag a last minute place in Maverick’s X Series Dorset ultra too. I was hooked. Ignoring the recurring aches and pains from all the running I’d been doing. At this point I couldn’t shift my mind from thinking that, all going to plan, with the remaining events I had booked in I’d be able to hit my 50th Marathon (official event of a marathon distance or longer) before the end of the year. It was a goal, a target now!

Maverick Dorset was like picking up exactly where we left off a few weeks earlier. A group of us headed down to the coast and the next morning left the starting line together for another 54km adventure. Through the morning rays we stuck together laughing and enjoying our adventure for 30kms or so until we split off into pairs to finish the day. More beers and Jimmy’s coffee awaited at the finish line before we headed back to the hotel to stuff our faces on some amazing fish and chips like champions.

The following weekend I was heading down to the somewhat familiar trails of the Beachy Head Marathon – I’ve run this course before, on the 30th December 2017, just as I started getting into trail running. But that was a social, group run. It wasn’t an organised event and now it was finally time to go and experience the route under race conditions. It was a tough day as I did set myself a time target for this event. After speaking with Paul and the cancellation of our planned trip to the lake district, I was now planning to be pacing Paul to a sub 20 hour finish on his SDW100 run in a few weeks time. With some incredibly basic math, I needed to be sure I could comfortably run a sub 5 hour marathon on the South Downs. This was my opportunity and I set out and achieved just that. It did give me some confidence as I’ve become so used to just plodding along and enjoying myself too much to care about finish times!

The next day, I headed back down to Eastbourne to help Jon crew Elisa and Lou on their South Downs Way 50 miler. It was great to be back on the other side of the fence and supporting and cheering once more. The girls were phenomenal and both ran a brilliant race to beat their goal and target time. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone mess about and enjoy a 50 mile run quite as much as they did!

I was now heading into a busy period with more back to back marathons and ultras. Next up was another first, the inaugural Wild Trail Runners Marathon as organised by Weronika. A few months earlier I’d offered to help support and run the route with her. The aim was to complete a trail marathon in 6 hours. No pressures. I just needed to help guide some runners depending on the numbers and local restrictions. It was back on the North Downs Way and running from Guildford to Merstham once more. There were about 13 of us so we split into two smaller groups and set off for what we knew would be a wet and miserable day. It certainly was wet, but not miserable as we slipped and slid along the trails. Sadly two runners dropped out before we reached Box hill so we reformed into the original larger group when Weronika and her runners caught up with us. Weronika pulled off a fantastic day and we were all treated to a Wild TR branded beer and a homemade medal for our efforts. I didn’t know then, but it was likely that this bonus medal was to be my last and final medal of 2020…

Arriving home that Saturday evening, everyone’s least favourite Boris announced that England would be back into lock down for a month. Within hours it was confirmed, the SDW100 was cancelled – I’d no longer be pacing next week. The Wendover Woods 50km was also cancelled and soon after it was confirmed too that the Camino Lea Valley ultra would also go the same way. My adapted plans to complete my 50th marathon in 2020 were over. There were bigger things at stake once more and rightly so.

This set me thinking. It was time to do the sensible thing. It only took a second bloody lockdown for some sense to be knocked into me. It was time to rest. With the Cheviot Goat scheduled to be  just 4 days after the lockdown was proposed to end, my expectations for it to go ahead were small. My intentions to start the event if it did proceed, they were becoming increasingly smaller… a few weeks later it was indeed cancelled and I deferred to 2021.

And so it was the most opportune time to rest I would have for the past 3 years. 2020 has taken its toll on me physically. I achieved a lot. A helluva lot! 3 of my 5 furthest runs had been completed this year. I did it without any structured or even routined training. I lost a lot of fitness and winged a lot of my events. I relied on my brain and experience (no bad thing!) and to some degree just shrugged my shoulders and got on with it. I was in physical pain. For months now, during each run, no matter the distance, my right leg hurt. It started with a calf pain after the Tarawera Ultra Marathon in February. It morphed into a shin pain after I ran the Capital Ring. Then since the end of summer it was my ankle that was the problem. It was weak. It felt brittle. It hurt a lot even when I wasn’t doing anything. My mindset was simply to normalise it. If it doesn’t hurt any more intensely when I run, then I’ll just keep on running. After the last marathon in October, I had similar pain in my left ankle too. Great, twatty twins for legs. Constant pain wasn’t a good enough reason to stop and rest in my mind. But, Boris had thrown me a lifeline. An opportunity. I had nothing to run for in the next four weeks. Removing the Cheviot Goat from the equation meant I had no goal or focus until the beginning of 2021. Suddenly I had time to stop. Time to rest, to repair and then to rebuild. My Lockdown plan became clear in my head. I planned to not run (yes! Not to run!) for 6 weeks. 6 weeks without pounding the ground, 6 weeks with a shift to low impact exercise to maintain fitness and strength. 6 weeks to allow my body to heal. I’d then start again, easy and low mileage and build it up gradually. The goal was to give myself a chance, a chance to get through 2021, as the way things are lining up, 2021 will fuck me up even more than 2020 did! What I was doing was not sustainable. A new approach is needed, a new beginning was required.

This had become my biggest challenge and thankfully the lockdown removed a lot of the temptation to run which made it easier. It didn’t however remove the temptation to plan and sign up to more events which I succumbed to way too easily. I made it through 5 of the 6 weeks. I was happy with that. I could have made it to 6 but I started exposing myself to running again and the temptation became too much. I felt good. I felt like I’d had a strong and consistent 5 weeks and vowed to continue the strength training, yoga and cycling that I’d reintroduced to my daily routine. 2021 was inching closer and I had new goals and targets to prepare for…

Quite a collection of real(!) and virtual achievements during a pandemic!

That was the year wrapped up. 2021 is now full of deferrals and substitutes and packed more tightly than 2020. 2020 started amazing, went rockier than the Trans Gran Canaria of 2018, but, somehow, I ended the year with almost 50 marathons under my belt (by completing another 8 official events). Wow, how did this happen? I vividly remember telling people about my plans to do my first ultra just 3 years ago. Here I go though, cracking on, I’ll hit that 50 milestone in 2021 for sure and might as well target the 100 at some point. For fucksake Dai…

Final Thoughts….I am in control. My happiness is paramount and everyday I have the courage and ability to protect that happiness. 2020 came with challenges, heartbreak, fear and more worries than I’m comfortable with. Difficult decisions and obvious sacrifices were needed and there were plenty of mistakes made along the way. Whether it is running or my personal life, I know I can, I’m sure I can and I will and I do. I trust myself and know I’ll never forget what I can control and what I can change to achieve what I set out after.

In last year’s recap I noted down some standout memories, so I thought why not, lets do it again…

Best Views

  • The lakes of the Tarawera 100 Miler in New Zealand. Just stunning.
  • Borneo Ultra Trail. The mountainous landscape and dense jungle forests and Mount Kinabalu as the backdrop
  • Maverick Peaks. Talk about unadulterated skylines. Hardly a building in sight. Not the highest, but a spectacular landscape.

Hardest Race

  • North downs Way. I didn’t set out to do a second hundred mile event in 2020. But as I approached it, I did want to make sure that the first one wasn’t a fluke. This was supposed to be easier than the first. It turned out to be harder. One of the toughest I’ve done. A heat wave in the UK, my body was drained. My mind was constantly fighting. The 55% DNF rate says it all. I’m proud to have completed this one.
  • Borneo Ultra Trails. The heat and humidity on this race is by far the worst I’ve ever experienced. It was a long hard day out in the jungles of Borneo. Powered by fresh Pineapple and a rest of well over an hour where I didn’t stop sweating at the halfway mark got me through. Jumping on a 15 hour flight 10 hours after finishing was probably not the best decision I’ve ever made!

Let it be known that you can measure the difficulty of a run by your love of the Chair! The state of me!

Best Achievement

  • Tarawera. My first 100 miler. Like any first, it will linger in your memories forever. What a place to experience my first 100 miler. Everything about this event was fantastic. I’ll never forget this achievement.
Trail Maggots in New Zealand!

Best Kit Bought

Tough one, I’ve not had to buy much this year as I already own far more kit than I need. Almost by default it goes to the Adidas Terrex Agravic Split Shorts. Less the ‘best’ and more the ‘new’ item of kit I’ve enjoyed the most – I needed new shorts. The shorts are proper short but kitted out for trail running with multiple waistband pockets and pole holders. They are made of pretty much no material (not reflected in the ridiculously expensive price!) but are so comfortable to wear. 

Short twins

Most overused Kit

  • Inov8 Roclite 275G. Damn these shoes are like slippers and boy are they tough and hard wearing. They’ve been on all the big runs in the last year. I’ve now switched to using them for the last half of these races (which in a few cases have still been 80km runs!) as they are so comfortable and offer great protection when my feet are a little worse for wear. The Graphene grip is fantastic too.
  • Squirrels Nut Butter. You don’t run 100s of miles without chafing and the Nut Butter is by far the best anti-chafe solution I’ve used. My skin would be non existent without this!

Fav Race Swag

  • Maverick Race won this one. For all their events, besides a medal you get items from their many sponsors. Iced Coffee, beer, protein bars, protein shakes. Whatever goes on the day of the event you are doing. One thing is for sure, when you finish, you struggle to carry everything you’ve just been given. Most generously, this was also reflected in the virtual event series Maverick put on in 2020 with many vouchers, discounts and stickers arriving in the post for the events you completed. These guys know how to please us!
Maverick Swag-athon

Best Dog

There were a lot of dogs on the trails this year. There were two standout candidates though…

  • The late comer that was Bruce with his little bowtie – a ‘borrow my doggy’ dog that Nick started bringing on runs. Boy can this lil’ fella run and he’s the quietest dog I’ve ever met.
  • Then there was little Bonnie who took us on a run around the Thursley Nature Reserve in Surrey. She started off unsure, but a few hours later was chasing me around the field. 

Thought of the year

  • That was a good few miles of running!!” After what would always turn out to be just a few 100m of running during the tail-end of the NDW100 event. Time and distance were certainly distorted for me!
  • When Nick offered me painkillers in the NDW100 my response was “nope, don’t fuck with the boys in the Command Centre“. Got to keep the mind clear and stay focused, pain and discomfort is a remainder of the reality of the situation.

Fav Trail snack

  • Pineapple. I’ve never tasted pineapple as good as that fresh pineapple growing on the Pineapple Ridge in Borneo. It has always been my favourite fruit but this took it to a new level!
Baby Pineapple

Best Medal

  • Without doubt the Tarawera 100 mile finisher Pounamu. I will probably never receive such a fantastic finishers gift again. Personal, chosen by me from the hundreds of variants on the finishers table. Earned, not bought. This is something else!
POUNAMU!!!

Most memorable moments

  • Running around London with Paul. it made for a great Strava map!
  • Finishing the NDW100 knowing that it meant the first 100 miler I finished wasn’t just a fluke.
  • The end of the rest period!! I was glad to be back running again.
Not sure if I mentioned we ran around London?!

Most beneficial training

  • Toss up between stairs (again) and yoga. Let’s go for yoga. 20 minutes a day has now become part of my routine. Never have I stretched so much in my life! To be fair, I did try yoga for the first time in the most spectacular of places in Borneo…

2020 was not all that bad it seems, but lets not be too positive – let’s get some miserable shit in here as well this year, simply because I’m a grumpy Grinch…

Most irritating comments of the year

  • This must be easy for you”. This always feels like some sort of backhanded compliment smothered in self pity at the same time. Here’s the thing, no, no its not. No run is ever easy and they can’t be compared. For example, having run a longer distance previously doesn’t make a shorter distance run any more achievable or certain.
  • What’s your next race / what have you got lined up?”. I may just be a grumpy twat, but this always feels like a bit of small talk and an opener for someone to just brag to you about what they have coming up.
  • I couldn’t do what you do”. That’s bollocks. You can. Anyone can. I’m not special. What you’re really saying though is “I don’t want to do what you do”, because if you did want too, you would.

Social Media trends that annoyed me the most

  • Boosting one’s self worth by offering some much needed “top” tips to nobody who asked… oh it’s warm, top tip – drink water and hydrate when you run. Never thought of that one. No one cares.
  • Advertising the water repellent fabric on your (gifted) trainers by running through tiny puddles. Sigh. No one cares.
  • Measuring your trail running CV by the amount of mud on your shoes/socks/legs. Well done. No one cares.
  • The ongoing need to demonstrate one’s resilience to weather by captioning that you are wearing shorts. Congrats, we can see that. Guess what… No one cares.
  • The Instagram inception stories… you know the ones where I share a story you tagged me in and then you share my story and I share your story of my story of your story and down the narcissistic rabbit hole we go. Yep, No one cares.
  • Posting a story of your own post on Instagram. Got to hit that “look at me” algorithm. Still, No one cares.

I could go on but I won’t because clearly I do care. Dammit.

Worst recurring song lyrics stuck in my head

  • Have you ever put butter on a pop tart, its soo frikken gooood…” Cheers Nick. It’s been lodged in there for months
  • On my last few runs it has been “Scooter – Fck 2020” that has been stuck on loop. Every so catchy/terrible and certainly the song of the year.

Your Community Needs You

Volunteering at the Centurion Running NDW100 in 2019

Let’s talk about volunteering…. I’ve done a fair bit of volunteering at running events in the past few years. It is something I enjoy and really do like giving back and supporting events, particularly those that I have run in or would like to participate in. Race volunteering can be quite a complex thing. Where do you start? How do you get involved, what will I be expected to do, need to bring etc. So I thought I’d share my thoughts and experiences on volunteering at running events.

Why Should I Volunteer?

Race volunteering, Let’s be honest up front, it isn’t a selfless act. There are many, many benefits in it for the individual. Most race organisers offer an incentive in some form to encourage volunteers. It may be a free tee shirt, a free race entry for the following year, vouchers or kit from sponsoring partners as well as many other freebies in the form of food and sponsored gifts. Some of the larger, international races also provide accommodation for volunteers, particularly for stage races where volunteers work multiple consecutive days. Besides these obvious tangible benefits, there are also the less obvious benefits like networking. You get to make connections with key people in the industry and form friendships with other runners and volunteers you’ll frequently meet at events. These can lead to all sorts of future opportunities, but, more importantly, friendships. Also, it is fun and a nice thing to do.

That being said, whilst we may offer our time to volunteer because we want to take advantage and for example, participate in the event the following year, these incentives might not always outweigh the commitment. A race entry for example might be anywhere from £50 to £200 quid for a UK trail ultra. That’s a small price to pay to enter an event and normally exceptional value for money. Volunteering isn’t always free. Typically you’d give up a whole day, maybe 8 hours or more of your time to support (to gain a spot in an event through volunteering, there will usually be a minimum commitment of volunteer hours required). You’ll spend possibly hours travelling to and from the event and that costs too. So if you really want to do a race, volunteering isn’t normally the most cost effective way to do it. Although, for popular events with limited places, a guaranteed entry for volunteers could be a significantly worthwhile investment of your time rather than playing with the race lottery.

Most importantly though, race directors and organisers need volunteers. We want so much for these events to be available to us, and they don’t happen without a huge amount of work behind the scenes to make them a reality. Race Directors often rely on small armies of volunteers to support them and make sure the events run as smoothly as they do. If you want events to continue to happen, to continue to be affordable and viable to run, give back and help out where you can.

After running the SVP100 3 times, in 2020 I finally earned the ‘yellow’ Volunteer tee.

How Do I get involved?

Simple, contact the race organiser. Most race organisers will have a specific section on their website or even a dedicated email address to contact if you would like to help out. Drop them a message or get in touch with them via their social media pages or in person if you’re at the event. Most organisers are desperate for help and will welcome your offer with open arms. Be patient though, there is a lot going on when organising events so it may take them a while to respond and take you up on your offer or they may direct you to someone else to speak to. Don’t be put off if that is the case. Many events have community groups and Facebook pages where you can also get involved and make contact with the organisers too.

I’d highly recommend getting in touch with Maverick Race, Centurion Running and the SVP100Ultra as great events to volunteer and support at…

What about pre event day?

Leading up to an event you can expect to be contacted by someone from the organisation to give you some instructions. They’ll ask for your key contact details and any information to help them support you (e.g. dietary requirements if they are providing food for the day) and details that could help them arrange all the volunteers. For instance if you can drive, if there are preferred roles you’d like to support with, if you are first aid trained or able to provide additional support during the day. Besides all that though, you need to be prepared yourself and think about how you will be ready to support on the day. Things to think about are:

  • Figure out where you need to be and when – Do you know what is expected of you and when?
  • How are you going to get to the event – This is likely to mean getting to the race at least an hour before the race registration begins and before runners start arriving.
  • What do you need to take with you – Have you the right clothes for the day, do you have water and food supplies to see you through?
  • Make sure you know who to ask for when you arrive. Don’t be offended when it’s assumed you are an eager runner who has turned up early!

What might I end up doing?

Types of roles and responsibilities you can expect to get involved with could include any or all of the following, depending on the scale of the event. Obviously this isn’t a comprehensive list of roles, but if you are a first time volunteer you’ll probably end up doing something like this, so don’t expect to be managing and coordinating other volunteers, acting as a deputy race director or MC-ing and event!

  • Set up and support at an event village – Race villages don’t set themselves up. Tents and marquees need constructing. Fences, flags and tape need laying out. Tables and layouts need arranging. Kits, race numbers, medals and all sorts of stuff need setting out. At one event I volunteered at we even had to construct the winners trophies and ensure all the engraving was placed on the correct trophies!
  • Course Marking – Most events will have signs and/or tape to help direct runners and keep them on the correct route. You may be able to get involved with walking/running the route and either setting out the course markings or checking they are still all in tact!
  • Parking – someone needs to coordinate the runners when they arrive at an event by car. Humans persistently demonstrate that we can’t be relied upon to park responsibly!
  • Registration – This is a hugely varied role from welcoming runners, to checking people are who they say they are, that they have paid to run the event, that they have their bib numbers and any other race items required (like pins, trackers). It could be that you are providing critical safety instructions, providing runners with their race packs like t-shirts or other gifts. In some events you might also be tasked with checking people have the required and mandatory kit with them.
  • Directing runners and supporters (e.g. where to go, what to do) – Races are exciting right? We all turn up with butterflies in our stomach, see people we know and ultimately don’t focus on what we need to do or where we need to go. How many times at an event have you asked where the toilets are, where the drop bag is or which way to the start line even? You might be that person providing the critical directions needed!
  • Drop bag stands – we’ve all experienced the carnage of a badly managed drop bag zone. It isn’t an easy task to take in bags from runners, ensure they are correctly labelled, stored in the right place and sent to the right checkpoint (if it is for a mid-race drop bag!). This can be incredibly stressful but vital to the efficient flow of runners at an event. We’ve all seen the crowds of runners pushing towards drop bag zones throwing bags over people queuing. You want to avoid it ending up that way!
  • Checkpoints and aid stations – most races will have, at minimum, a water stop. Ensuring these are set up before the first runner and adequately stocked so all runners, right through so that not only the last runner but also the course sweepers are able to get water and fuel they need to carry on. 
  • Shopping. Speaking of checkpoints and aid stations. Where do you think all the food and drink comes from? Someone, somewhere, will have to go shopping and buy it all! If you are tasked with this you will most likely be given a shopping list with the types of things and quantity to buy. You also won’t be expected to pay for it out of your own pocket and will be told how to reclaim the expenses, so don’t worry if you do end up being sent to Tesco to buy 200lts of coke, 50 oranges and all the jaffa cakes you can find!
  • Marshal points directing runners – Ever got lost on a race because you took a wrong turn? Yep, me too. Most events will put marshals at key points to ensure runners don’t get lost. Be the human signpost. Keep everyone accounted for! Being a Marshal may even mean manually accounting for runners and ensuring no one is missing. You’ll have to be alert!
  • Marshalling road crossings – Likewise, you might end up standing at a road crossing. Most of the time you won’t be expected to stop traffic (on quieter country roads I do tend to do this if I have enough visibility of the road, the runners approaching the crossing and feel it is safe to do so) but you will be expected to stop the runners. When runners are in the ‘zone’ we do tend to be quite ignorant of what is going on around us. We didn’t see the warning signs put out 100m from the crossing warning us of the danger ahead, we were too busy listening to Tina Turner pumping out “Walking on broken glass” to hear the HGV roaring up the road. Sometimes even we are just too damn exhausted and spaced out to realise the impending danger. Marshalling a road crossing is all about being the eyes and ears for the runners and ensuring that they don’t unknowingly (or sometimes intentionally) dash out onto a busy road! 
  • Event finish line – medals, directing etc. This is like the registration in reverse. You might still be ensuring every runner gets their allotted items (medals, appropriate sized t-shirts etc), directing them away from the finish line, getting their photos, drinks and generally telling them where to go. You may also need to deal with that runner who has pushed themselves a little too hard or has taken an unexpected turn for the worse. You need to be on the ball at the finish line to spot those signs of a runner in need of a helping hand!
  • Drop bag collection – remember the prophesied carnage from earlier in the day…. Hopefully you’ll help to avoid that. At the same time though, recognise that this can be a time consuming role. Ever walked into a hall to find one bag amongst a few hundred? Even when it is meticulously laid out, it might be that one bag that is put in the wrong place. That one bag that has the name/number tag no longer attached. Ever seen a number ‘1’ that looks like a number ‘7’? Yep that can lead to confusion too! Or what about when you can’t find the bag and you ask a runner to describe it and they tell you it is ‘Green’ only it turns out the zip is the green bit and the rest of it is blue. Ever seen how many North Face Basecamp duffle bags are found at a trail race? Dozens of them, guaranteed, especially the yellow ones! It can take time to find the right bag, even under ideal circumstances. You also need to ensure you are giving the right bag to the right person. 
  • Course Sweeping – Safety of runners is paramount and the role of a sweeper is to follow (not closely!) the last runners and ensure the trails are swept of all event markings, litter and that all runners are accounted for and not left out on the route! This is a fantastic way to run some or all of an event whilst volunteering!
  • Pack up and closure of events – When you think it’s all finished, you remember the boxes you took out of the van, or the marquee you fought to construct in the wind… yep, they need to be put away. The rubbish needs to be picked up. It doesn’t finish until it looks like the event  never happened in the first place!

I’ve done most of these roles myself through volunteering. Some memorable times include being on Water and and Tailwind (hydration drink) duty at a checkpoint in the middle of the Centurion Running NDW100, to running up and down stairs to collect drop bags for runners at the SVP100 finish line, to standing alone in the woods in the pouring rain marshalling road crossings and course sweeping and collection for Maverick Races to even spending 8 hours dancing inside a giant penguin costume at the London Winter Run. The role of a volunteer is a varied one.

The 2018 Winter Run. I was kept warm as a dancing penguin. I fucking hate dancing!

What to expect

  • Larger events, like a mass participation road event, you’ll tend to rock up at a set time, meet a team leader, be given instructions and get on with it, leaving at a set time
  • At a smaller event, you may meet the entire team of volunteers and be involved in a little of everything
  • Be prepared to go the extra distance. You can’t expect the race directors and team to pander to you and your needs. It may be that you need to figure out a way to get to your volunteer spot in the middle of nowhere. Local transport, run, walk if you can. Don’t be put off if you can’t get a lift to where you need to get to!
  • Hanging around alone. You have a responsibility to ensure the safety of runners. That might mean you are waiting for hours before you first see a runner and are on point for a long time after the last runner goes past. Be prepared for loneliness, but stay alert.
  • Be prepared to travel – races won’t be on your doorstep. It is your responsibility to manage your time and ensure you are where you need to be when you should be!
  • Be patient. No doubt you’ll have plenty of questions before volunteering and even after (when will I get my free stuff?!), but be patient. The race directors will be fielding endless amounts of questions from participants, other volunteers, locals and the community surrounding the event as well as authorities giving the race the permit to proceed. You won’t be forgotten about, be patient whilst the questions are prioritised and addressed.
  • Most races you’ll volunteer at will be experienced. They’ll have plans and processes in place for coordinating and managing the volunteers. You’ll be told what to do and given what you need in good time. Don’t panic if you’ve not been given detailed instructions weeks before the race!

What to do

  • Get involved. Offer help, ask what you can do. It might just be unloading boxes from a van, but it needs doing. Take the initiative and don’t just stand about like a lemon waiting to be instructed.
  • Do it with passion, do it with interest. Standing around at the side of the road or in the middle of a wet field might sound dull but you can make it interesting. Dance, sing, clap and cheer. Be stupid. Make people laugh, bring some enjoyment to what you are doing and it will rub off on others.
  • Entertain and support. As a runner you’ll know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of a big smile and someone encouraging you on. This is your opportunity to give back
  • Be prepared. It can be long and tiring volunteering. Take food, take plenty of water, take warm and appropriate clothing. 
  • Gain some knowledge about the event. Passers by will want to talk to you and find out what you are doing. Make sure you know how to give them information and share the word about the event. 
  • Be prepared to support runners. We always want to know where we are, how far left to go, where is the water etc. Make sure you have the key information to hand. No one enjoys it when they are told there is ‘only 1 mile to go’ but that 1 mile turns out to be 3 miles.
  • Explore your surroundings, this I think is particularly more relevant for trail events. Go past your checkpoint, explore just before it. Know where runners are coming from and where they are going and what hazards they can expect to encounter. You can help them prepare then.
  • Make sure you know who to contact in an emergency. This could be in the case of an injury to a runner, an angry local who has a complaint or your own personal situation should it arise. 
  • Be yourself, bring your character
Getting my thirst on with Centurion Running & Tailwind

Some things to think about

  • Understand the commitment you are making. That free tee shirt sounds great, but do you really want to help and are you committed? I’ve already mentioned the stresses leading up to organising a race. The last thing organisers need is a volunteer pulling out last minute because they’ve changed their mind. Obviously sometimes life means you have to pull out, but don’t pull out because you’ve changed your mind or underestimated the responsibility you’ve volunteered for.
  • Be prepared. Events are prepared to deal with the inevitable injuries to a runner, but they are not prepared for the avoidable situation where a volunteer has caught pneumonia because they didn’t bring a jacket, or they didn’t bring water and are dehydrated etc.
  • Make sure you can get there on time and can get home afterwards. It isn’t a race director’s responsibility to coordinate you or help you when you realise you missed the last train home because you weren’t prepared.
  • Be helpful. Don’t be rude, don’t try and dominate or change the processes in place. If you have feedback, save it and provide it directly to the event organiser, maybe after the event, as a suggestion for future consideration. You are there to help runners, be patient with them. It is inevitable they will ask questions you’ve heard a 100 times already that day, or be frustrated that the course was 10 meters longer than they thought. Remember you are representing the event and the organisers. Be helpful where you can.
  • Be thankful. Build those relationships for next time you volunteer or participate in the event.

SO…

Whatever your reason, volunteering is incredibly fulfilling. Don’t be put off, don’t feel guilty that you are doing it for the wrong reasons such as the personal incentives. Don’t be afraid of being uncomfortable. Races rely on the support and volunteers to make them happen. Behind every race is an army of people getting involved. Many of these you will never see on race day. I’ve volunteered because I want that race entry (thanks Centurion Running!) or a particular tee shirt (yep, I wanted the yellow SVP100 tee in my collection!) or a voucher to buy some trainers (Cheers Maverick Race!) I could afford to just buy anyway. But, despite all this, for each event I’ve volunteered at, I’ve gained knowledge, experience, thanks and memories that go far beyond just running. Be part of the community you love so much, get involved!

Marshalling road crossings with the Maverick Race hi-vis

Maverick X Series Jurassic Coast

Another weekend, another adventure with Maverick Race, this time down on the South West coast in Dorset. I was in two minds about this one. I wanted to do it, I was greedy for the trails and another Ultra, but I was hesitant as I have a few more events in October, November and December and am still feeling the aches from the rest of the year’s adventures. There was only going to be one winner in this decision and I signed-up. Along with some of the usual bunch of running mates we headed down to Wareham on the Friday evening for another weekend away…

At the beginning of the event I dashed to the Adidas Terrex stand to try on some trainers. I recently bought some of the Two Ultra Parley trainers in my usual size and they were huge. A nice comfortable fit around the feet, but long, very long. There was a huge amount of space at the end of my toes. The guys at the stand were incredibly helpful and I came away with more confidence in their sizing as well as a new headband. Result, happy days.

Whilst lining up and queuing to start, Nick made a new friend. A beautiful and very calm husky with piercing eyes. We’d see his new mate again later on along the run. As we waited for Fiona to get through the registration queue we slowly made our way closer and eventually started near the back of the field of runners. There were a lot of people doing the ultra this time, or at least it felt like there were far more than what was in the Peak District a few weeks earlier.

We started off in pairs and after a short section in the forest we reformed into a small group of six – me, Nick, Maria, Jules, Charlotte and Fiona. For the rest of the morning we’d all run together chatting and joking away at every opportunity. We left the forest into a steady downhill along a road, turning left at a junction where there was a sheep-shaped sign for a farm. Shortly after this a runner ran passed in a recognisable Wild TR t-shirt and vanished into the distance. A cyclist coming the opposite way then told us to watch for wet feet. We were confused as it was a beautiful morning but soon realised what he meant when we saw the road ahead was all flooded. The group all started tiptoeing through the deep flood as I filmed and then ran straight through, splashing them and giggling like a kid. We all hoped the wet feet wouldn’t trouble us in 50km time and I immediately regretted the decision of wearing slightly thicker socks for this run!

After the puddle and some fields, we began a series of small and gentle climbs through the wide open space, surrounded by panoramic views with the morning sun shining down on us. It was far hotter than I expected as we climbed in the calm of the morning. We caught up with some of the dogs including Nick’s new buddy and carried onwards. At each opportunity I said a prolonged thank you to all the volunteers and marshals, it brought a smile to all our faces and I soon started to memorise the speech as I repeated it to each and every marshal we encountered.

The first outpost was then in our sights at the start of one of the more prominent climbs on the course. A group of people from a Tri-club were out supporting a team mate who was near us and we absorbed all their support as if it was intended for us. I stopped for water at the outpost as the others carried on and I caught them up towards the top of the climb as we approached a field full of cows on the top of the climb. The cows were standing their ground in the middle of the path and winning the battle against the runners who’d all deviate around them. 1-0 to the cows. From here we descended and I whizzed passed the others and momentarily took us the wrong way. Thankfully only by a few meters!

After crossing a busy road we climbed once more before reaching the second outpost where Ben was volunteering and keeping us going. A belly full of prawn cocktail crisps and we set back off for the next section of about 12km along the coast until the next outpost. We ran down through the village and started making our way towards the coastline.

As we hit the coast we started to walk the many short sharp climbs, running in between as we switched our gaze from the medieval ruins to the dramatic coastline and the calm sea with the sun glistening off the surface.  There was very little wind and it was becoming a beautiful day. After the initial set of steps to climb we had a treat of a very steep down hill that immediately looped back up in an equally steep stepped climb. The steps were frustratingly deep and at a slight slant which made it difficult to maintain any real momentum without falling. We joked with and were cheered on by the many walkers out enjoying the climb too.

After more single track coastal trails we could see in the distance the cliffs dropped away and further ahead the dots of runners tracking inland along a long twisting gravel track and further on again even more distant runners looping back to the coast along what looked like a very, very steep climb. It felt like a long time before we reached it ourselves and indeed it was steep, with lots of steps. Nick pulled out the garlic bread (left over from the previous night’s meal) and started chomping away as we climbed. Big lunges once more taking us up the deep steps eroded into the hillside path.

The route was very undulating for the next five miles or so with very steep climbs broken up with lots of single tracks along the cliff edge. Many walkers and hikers kindly stepped aside to let us pass as they cheered us on.

A short while later, with lots of runners ahead and also behind us, we ran down towards an open public space in a cove where there was a public toilet with a tap. We were all gasping and mostly out of water and took turns filling our bottles and wetting our heads. We knew it was only a matter of meters until the third outpost would be seen, but we needed the refreshment. Many runners joined in and queued behind us.

We continued on through the carpark and there it was, the outpost. Jake was there taking pictures as we arrived and Spenny cheered us in and immediately set to work filling our bottles including doubling up with the jugs and doing two runners at once. Top man. We weren’t as efficient though and hung around yapping. It was here, about 30km in, that we split as a group. We’d never set out to run the whole thing together and were sort of in pairs by now, so Charlotte and Maria headed off and a little while after Nick and I followed as Fiona and Jules finished up at the outpost.

King of the Jugs

With a banana in his shorts (whey hey!) Nick ran on and I followed. After running through some fields and army land we began to climb the second largest climb of the day. This was another long, wide and twisty path, a welcome break from the sharp steps of the previous climbs.

Up top the white cliffs in the distance presented a stunning view as we ran down towards them. I recognised the next climb from the section of the route from the Endurance Life Coastal Trail Series ultra I did in 2018 (in far far worse conditions, this was a gloriously crisp and sunny autumn day compared to the overcast stormy day back in 2018). As we ran down to the cove of Pondfeld we could see the girls ahead of us on the final climb. We set up after them with Nick stopping to talk to two gentlemen hiking their way down. I carried on. The climb was the steepest and covered maybe just shy of 200m in total. The ground here was full of divots and make shift steps eroded into the hillside. Up top we looped back along the open hill. I waited and waved Nick over as he rounded the top. 

Always Smiling

We ran on and Jake appeared once more on the trail and  waved us over to get some epic photos along the top of the hill. We followed the straight paths now for maybe 5 miles or so with a slight incline over the distance that helped break the run up with a few short walks. We stopped to take a picture of the Grange Arch and also stopped when we saw Jay directing runners across a road with the tunes blasting out. After the road section we stopped yet again at the final outpost where a generous runner gave Nick some of her Tailwind when he couldn’t locate his own in his pack.

We continued on the straight trails, running through fields and wide open spaces with more photo opportunities along the way. With maybe 6 miles to go, we could, for the first time sense the end of the run and were looking forward to the finish line delights. A nice gentle run down through the fields was a welcome break for the feet and quads compared to the rest of the steep descents and quad busters faced before it.

As we ran on Nick became conscious of time and that, if we kept going we’d sneak in sub 7 hours. We had no times in mind for the run, but now Nick had set his target and had his sights set on a strong finish. I’ve been there myself before. Once a time gets in your mind, you begin to focus, it is hard to let it go. I was confident he’d do it, truth is though I didn’t have the same desire burning in my heart. He started to pull away from me. As we ran the final big descent down to Corfe Castle, he opened quite a gap on me. He waited at the bottom as I filmed and then ran on, entering the forests and woodlands of the last few km where we’d run through various plantations. We estimated about 5km left to go. From here just undulating trails left to cover….

Almost immediately I lost Nick again. He was running strong. I couldn’t keep up. With the twisting forest tracks I couldn’t see him ahead of me. I once caught a glimpse of him climbing a stye at the far end of a field and disappearing into the woodlands. I was sort of loving the trails as they once more brought a huge variation to the last several hours of coastal tracks and hillside paths. Upahead was a weird wooden church type structure (like a tree house almost) which I diverted and ran through, I think to the confusion of the runner behind me. As I climbed a stye into a field I once more sore Nick up ahead and tried to speed up after him.

I’d been passing loads of runners and new Nick was playing ‘Pac-Man’ hunting them down and chomping them off. I did catch up with him eventually, but more due to a bottle neck of runners on a series of very narrow wooden plank paths as we crossed some flooded riverside areas. Together again I told him to go for it. Keep going. I’d keep up if I could.

Maybe a mile to go. Ten mins under the 7 hour barrier. We were confident. We pushed on. Rounding a few small roads into a wide gravel track we saw Maria and Charlotte ahead. As we reached them Nick excitedly exclaimed we were going for sub 7. He encouraged them too and we kept running.

Shortly after our excitement and belief started to fade away. We hit 33 miles and had 6:57 showing on the watch. Something wasn’t right. It didn’t feel like we were minutes away from finishing. Up Ahead loads of runners walking a long winding sandy path. We powered on painfully and tried to maintain focus. I tried to convince Nick to walk but he was having none of it. It felt never ending. The minutes ticked by, 7 hours passed. Undefeated we knew we’d covered the distance in the time. This was just a little extra and GPS differences. We kept going. 

Nick’s determination was incredible. I’ve never run like this, he was getting stronger and faster the further he ran. Unlike in the Peaks a few weeks earlier, there was no bonking, no fading, no moaning. He was buzzing and running strong in what was only his third ultra.

We came off the sandy tracks and arrived at the cross roads where we saw the sheep sign 7 hours early. Fucking hell, this was not near the finish! There was a long road and a short forest section still to cover. We ran on, powering up the hill which I once more tried. unsuccessfully, to convince Nick to walk. We passed many more runners along this section who we’d seen hours earlier including a man and his young son running the marathon. We praised them and continued, busting into the forest and finally hearing the feint cheers at the finish line.

We then ran into the field and crossed the line with cheers from those still hanging around and the one and only PC fresh off his 9th place finish! Hero. As we grabbed a beer and coffee, Charlotte and Maria arrived too. We grabbed our bags from the car, changed, said goodbye to Charlotte who began the long drive home. With warm clothes on, we headed to the finish line just in time to cheer Fiona and Jules over the line. Despite separating with 20km to go, we all finished really close to each other. 

Finishers

I finished off the evening by meeting up with a few of the others who I shared two amazing weeks in Borneo with earlier in the year. They’d run the 20km course and were waiting in the pub. Bliss. A perfect end to another amazing weekend.

Less than a year ago Nick ran his first ultra, just a few months after his first marathon. We ran the Hurtwood 50 together and I described the transformation he was going through and the different versions of him as a runner I’d seen that year. Two of those were: 

  • Nick 6.0 – Nick the running addict – He wants it all. He’s signing up to all sorts. He’s pushing, he’s challenging, the change is going exponential
  • Nick 7.0 – Ultra Nick – … He’s running all the time.

10 months on and I think this couldn’t be more true. The change was and still is exponential. He is seeking out challenges to push himself and test his limits. His aims and desires are radical compared to 18 months ago. He is that one friend constantly coaxing me and others into long runs, into events and races. He is the yes man who is always up for the adventure and challenge. With 3 Ultras in the last year he really is Ultra Nick now. He’s running all the time….

Farnham Pilgrims Marathon

Whilst out on a recce run of the NDW100, a group of us discussed various runs later in the year we were hoping would still go ahead (Covid innit) and which were on or near the NDW. Two that were on the list were the Eden valley Ultra and the Farnham Pilgrims Marathon. They were the same weekend in September though. Arlene had an idea – double weekender! We all agreed to sign up. Only Arlene did….

I did sign up to the Eden Valley Ultra, and got as far as the registration screen for the Farnham Pilgrims Marathon. Only I didn’t complete the registration as it said there were over 400 places available. I held off. A few weeks later, whilst running the Fox Way, we found out that the Farnham Pilgrims Marathon had sold out. Doh. Arelene was booked into a double weekend on her own. Oops.

As the weeks went by, with some luck I managed to get on a waiting list and subsequently obtained a spot on the Farnham Pilgrims Marathon. We were back on! Little did I think that after the NDW100 I would not want to spend much time on the North Downs Way again. Oh well.

Shortly before the race weekend the organisers announced the protocols they were putting in place to ensure the event went ahead safely. One of which was dedicated start times. Arlene was starting at 07:20 and myself 2 hours later at 09:10. We said we’d see each other at the finish line, and we did….

The week before the race I was speaking with Rob from the Wild Trail Runners who had also signed up. He kindly gave me a lift to the race, which I’m so thankful for as it started in the middle of nowhere if you weren’t arriving by car. Upon arrival you were requested to arrive no more than 20 mins before your allocated start time and to wait at your car until your wave was called forward. Rob was starting at 08:40 so I had a little longer to wait in the field until I was beckoned forward. Temperatures were checked and wrist bands issued rather than numbered bibs. A short wait in a taped off area before we were released onto our marathon journeys.

Beards, Caps & Wild TR

With the first steps I was aching. After a fairly speedy 50km the day before, it is fair to say my body had definitely not recovered. I was also probably grossly under fuelled for such an adventure having missed lunch the day before as well as being in a calorie deficit from the race.I knew it was going to be a long day ahead and I was full of acceptance of the torture I was about to endure. Everyone from my wave had overtaken me before we’d made it out of the starting field (probably about 20m!). I was at ease.

I joked about the start of the race being in the middle of nowhere, it is, but it was also very familiar to me after the NDW100. The start was in The Sands, along the road on which the Farnham Golf Club is, which was about 3 miles into the NDW100. Today we ran around the roads on the other side of the golf course and continued around Seale, we’d come back through the fields I’d run during the NDW100 on the way back to the finish. After Seale we rejoined the North Downs Way as we passed through the instantly recognisable Totford Woods and on through the village of Putenham. I was passed by many runners up to this point, thankfully though most were the half marathoners who were speeding passed and who turned off at Puttenham. We passed through Puttenham Golf Course which I again recognised from the NDW. Here though is where we deviated from the NDW and, rather than following the NDW towards Guildford, we took another set of trails further south which saw us run along many single tracks, stables, and country lanes until we reached and crossed the A3100 further south along the River Wey. We then followed the river and snaked along the trails for a few kilometers near Chantry woods.

Whilst the trails were new to me, they were similar terrain to the other trails along the Surrey Hills – sandy and bumpy. Lots of short sharp climbs and lots of trudging through loose sand tracks. In these first ten miles my legs only felt heavier and heavier and the quads and hamstrings burned with the extra effort to push off from the sandy tracks. It was also another scorcher of a day. Thankfully there had been a few water stops already and these were going to be ample throughout the course, or so I thought –  the one section they weren’t, was from here to St. Martha’s on the Hill, probably where I needed it the most.

As we edged closer to St Martha’s the incline began to increase. If you don’t know it, the church is on one of the highest points along the Greensand Ridge. Situated just outside of Guildford along the NDW, it is a trail frequented by runners. It’s not the highest nor hardest climb in the area, but it does take some effort.

I’ve never approached the hill from this route before. First we passed a field with lamas, before we started gradual climbs through desolate and barren (recently harvested) fields, before zig zagging up some sandy trails from the south. I soon realised where along the ridge line we were emerging. Along the way the same woman passed me twice, first powering past me, the second time making up for time lost after a wrong turn. I was more confused by her when I saw her for the second time. Up top I was out of water, huffing and puffing from the climb and had a dry mouth from my failed attempt at eating a Clif bar. I thought there might be a water stop at the church but it wasn’t. I had to continue down, tracking west along the NDW for a little longer before reaching the much needed water stop which was nicely situated in some shade. I took a few minutes here and used about 2 litres (1 in my bottles and 1 to drink / pour over my head). It was a very sweaty day now. From this point I was seeing a lot of runners now. Both those over taking me and those I was catching up from earlier waves.

Refreshed and cooled, I had a nice little jog on the go as we descended back towards Guildford. My legs were now more numb than painful and the shuffle was consistent. We broke off from the NDW again as we followed the trails up to Pewley Down (which had some amazing views!) before following the NDW again back to Puttenham Golf Course. Along the way I took advantage of every water stop I passed. Refuelling and pouring a bottle over my head to keep me cool. I was struggling a bit in the heat. 

Views from Puttenham Common

Back at Puttenham we turned off for the final set of trails I was unfamiliar with. Now we followed pretty much the route that the half marathon took earlier in the morning. Well, I thought I was unfamiliar with the trails but it turns out we had a short section along the Fox Way which I recently ran too. I recognised a sign on a gate about not leaving dog poop on the trail! After this we ran a few hilly sections passing through Puttenham Common which I really enjoyed. I enjoyed the hills, because I didn’t have to run, I enjoyed the views which were spectacular and I enjoyed the ponds we ran alongside. I was surprised how many more beautiful trails there were. I hadn’t thought I’d be seeing so much more of Surrey on this run.

Emerging back into Totford Woods we had about 3 miles to go. I knew what was ahead now as we’d have a long straight stretch through some fields that we bypassed on the outbound journey when we went via Seale. Here the photographer was waiting to snap us. Out of the fields it was a slow and gentle incline along the roads back to The Sands. Just before entering the field I passed a runner dressed as Superman doing his 100 marathon. Impressive. I cheered him on before taking out my Buff to cover my face (as requested from the organisers) as I entered the finish line. I plodded on in, collected my medal and found Rob and Arelene patiently waiting at the van. It took me about 9 minutes less than the day before (8km shorter). I’m undecided if I enjoyed it…..

Double Weekender complete

I did enjoy the new trails I experienced and the stunning Surrey Hills and countryside. I also enjoyed the marshals and all the volunteers from the Rotary Club of Farnham Weyside. Everyone was so helpful and cheerful. The people really do make the event and I’ve heard in ‘normal’ years there is an abundance of cake and home made food during this marathon!

I didn’t however enjoy the experience of back to back races. I’ve not yet been seduced by multistage events (although briefly considered registering for the 2021 Dragon’s Back race but thought better of it!) and doing my own back to back has only reinforced that this isn’t for me right now. I prefer the challenge of being in the moment and persevering rather than stopping and starting again the next day.

Eden Valley Ultra

The morning started with a trek. The train station in Cowden was a little over 2km away from the event base, but we had plenty of time. It would serve as a great warm up, we did have 50km to cover that morning so the legs would need a bit of time to ‘wake up’.

Upon arrival, the registration was straightforward. No queues, no fuss. We walked straight up to collect a number and timing band from the familiar face of Ashley who welcomed us and ensured we were registered efficiently. We were pretty much good to go, we just had to wait for the start. As we waited near the start line we met John and Arlene introduced me to the Race Director – Chris – from Runaway.

The start of this race took the format of segregating runners into 3 groups based on expected finish time and then, from 09:00 onwards, runners would start at roughly 10 second intervals from one another. I went into the sub 5:30 starting group with my mind set on aiming for a sub 6hr start. A little ahead of myself on the starting group but I thought this would be a better approach than going in the sub 6:30hr group.

Our group was called forward and one by one we tapped our timing wrist bands on the scanner and set off to subdued applause and cheers from the other runners lining up. Out the gate we went and ahead of me was a gentle stream of runners bounding off into the woods. I turned my headphones on and settled in for the adventure…

The beginning of the course was beautiful. We trod through vast woodlands and open fields with the morning sun beaming down on us. I felt good and had a smile on my face although It was far hotter than I’d anticipated and I knew come midday this could be a struggle. As a result I probably set off much faster than I intended. But that always seems to be the norm in running events!

We ran south and back towards the village of Cowden where, after exiting a field I took a wrong turn. I felt it almost instantly. So far the route had been well signposted but I hadn’t seen any tape when exiting the field or on along the path I was now running. I slowed and started to turn on my GPS navigation to check my whereabouts. As I was doing so three runners came up behind me and we all felt unsure this was the right way. Our instincts were correct and we back tracked and found our way back along a road that joined back up to the route.

We carried on together chatting away as we entered some wide open spaces and began a long and gradual climb through some more fields. I walked on as they hustled up the climb more quickly. What goes up must come down and from here we entered the woodlands of Marshgreen and enjoyed a long downhill section surrounded by towering trees. Chris was on point along this section directing runners where he thinks some signage had ‘gone missing’. Out of the woodland we emerged to the first of three checkpoints where we were able to refill our food and water as well as tap in our timer bands. There were two other runners leaving as I arrived and I’d see very few other runners for a while after this.

From here the route was again very runnable with a mixture of hard packed fields and road sections. As we neared the second checkpoint the route began a slow and gradual climb as we’d reach the highest point on the route and the two biggest climbs we’d have to navigate. First though was more deep woodland and forests to keep us entertained and focused as we avoided tripping on tree roots.

As I neared Toys Hill the incline increased and I walked on at pace. I knew there was a short downhill section coming that I could recoup some ground. As I built up the momentum the road forked. To the left was a trail sign marked with a cross, so I continued forward and down a long drive way into someone’s garden. Normally I’d be concerned but in the race briefing we were advised that the route would take us through people’s gardens and that it was normal. It had already happened a few times but this one felt ‘off’. Up ahead were two other runners looking very confused. To the left I could see a path the other side of a wired fence hidden in the woods. We backtracked all the way to the fork with the cross sign and saw the path entrance. It was a little confusing and I’m sure we weren’t the only ones to make that mistake this day!

Back on track we ran the undulating hills as we made our way to Idle hill. Just before the next climb, with one of the runners close behind me, we emerged from the forest path into another wide open field on a hill. We had no idea where to go. I was ready to check the navigation again as a passerby asked us where we were trying to get to. In a confused daze I said “I don’t know” as we looked around the field. Right in front of us though was the event photographer waving frantically and directing us. How we hadn’t seen him now seems silly!

Shortly after this we emerged to another road section and the second checkpoint with Ashley among the volunteers cheering us in. The other runners had now left me for dust again and I stopped to chat with the volunteers as I refilled my bottles. Another runner arrived and immediately stated his intention to withdraw. He was the last runner I would see until the final checkpoint some 10km later.

From Idle Hill we’d be making our way in a South Westerly direction towards Leigh. This section was probably the toughest for me. It was now midday and very warm. The hard packed ground from lumpy fields was starting to make my feet hurt and there were a lot of pathed tracks and roads to navigate in this section too. It was a case of head down and keep moving forward. The route was mostly downhill which led to some consistent stints of running.

Around 25 miles into the race I arrived at Leigh and could see the volunteers at the final aid station flagging me down across a greenspace/park. I enjoyed more chats with the marshals, acknowledging how delightful the route was (with the exception of the road sections!) and they gave me an overview of what was remaining. As I was leaving. Another runner arrived. For the first time in the race I felt an element of competitiveness and wondered if I could hold them off for the final 10km or so that remained.

From Leigh we’d be heading to Penhurst which I recalled being mentioned in the race briefing. First though we’d follow a river for a few short kms which was another delightful change of scenery the Eden Valley Ultra offered runners. After a short but steep climb we had a gradual incline which I mostly walked as we arrived up into Penhurst Gardens. From the outside this looked spectacular with its old stone walls and Historic Market Place entrance. Next we zig zagged through the village high street before rejoining the trails for the final few kms back to the event base and where we started.

It wasn’t over yet though as the course finishes with a lovely uphill section with two noticeable climbs. The first being the hardest of the two and I almost missed the turn as you double back on yourself at the summit and alongside the path inside a field. From here it was the now familiar combination of open fields, woodlands and road crossings before we re-joined the path on which we began our journey in the morning.

I ran past the turn we took after the first km or so and knew the finish was just around the corner. I took out the GoPro and for the first time recorded myself crossing a finish line. Without thinking I filmed as I checked out my timer band and completed my 50km.

I finished up with a beer and a chat with Chris before spending some time sitting and cheering in other runners as I recovered. I soon set off on the slow walk back to the station with my legs beginning to cramp. It was now a race to recover ahead of the next challenge – The Farnham Pilgrims Marathon which I’d be starting in a little over 15 hours time….

I’m a Centurion now

There is never a perfect night before a race. The real rest is the few nights leading up to it. Despite all our best efforts and intentions, there are just too many factors beyond our control and too many thoughts racing through our excited minds the night before a race. You have to deal with what you’ve got. My less than perfect night before the Centurion Running NDW100 started well, checking into the Bishops Table hotel with ease as my hosts efficiently navigated the COVID restrictions imposed on usual operations. After check in, to my delight, I found I was in the room opposite Gif. Great for a quick chat and to wish each other well for the adventure ahead. Then I tried to sleep…

Hello Gif!

I made one mistake – I put too much Squirrels Nut Butter ‘Born to Rub’ muscle balm on my sore leg. As I lay awake, eyes closed and sweating in the hot room whilst listening to the boy racers revving their cars down the main road, my leg progressively started to burn. I ignored it for as long as I could until I felt I was on fire. I had to go back in the shower and wash it off. School boy error. My early night and planned 8 hours sleep was not going to happen. I did eventually nod off and woke at 04:00 the next day upside down on the bed and rather drowsy. I clearly had a restless night. I text my crew – Jon & Nick – to let them know I was on my way to the start and to expect me to be hitting the caffeine hard in 12+ hours time…

Walking to the bag drop at the leisure centre I realised I hadn’t sync’d the route to my watch. For some reason I couldn’t then do so. A minor inconvenience but not a problem, the route is well marked and I’d recce’d it all so wasn’t worried about not having it immediately available. At bag drop I met Jack who was doing the heavy lifting on bag duty and he sent me off to the start line a short walk away.

The North Downs Way…it begins

It was odd not registering or checking in, but that wasn’t as weird as the new rolling start line. At the North Downs Way sign we had a photo taken. Two runners were just heading off before I arrived and one joined just after me. Snapped, we were sent onwards to the trail head where the Centurion team took our temperatures and cleared us to run. No mass start. No big hoo-ha or send off. A low-key time trial-esque start over two hours to spread out the runners. It was about 05:45 in the morning and my 100 mile adventure was now underway.

It wasn’t long before I got the first ‘buzz’ of the day. A lady was standing alone on the NDW under the dawning sky cheering on the runners. As I neared her and noticed her bump I realised it was none other than Helen, a friend of Ally’s and whom was the first female at the SVP last year. This was the first time I’d met Helen and it put a smile on my tired face as I began to process what I was about to go through.

I’d set out with a plan. There was a finish time in mind. Ideally I’d beat my 27 hour finish from Tarawera, my first ‘miler’. All going well I’d push on for a sub-24hr finish. It does sound appealing and achievable, 100 miles in a single day. My plan was as simple as get passed Box Hill as quickly as I could before it gets too busy and too hot. If I could make it to Wrotham (mile 60) in under 14 hours then I’d push on for the sub 24 hr target. With a crew of Jon and Nick standing by to support me and pace me through the night I knew I was in great company.

I was happy in the morning. Fairly speedy too. I was progressing along nicely with no worries in the world. Making small talk with runners I passed or who went by me. I was a little surprised to see other runners but only naively so. I guess I imagined a rolling start to spread-out far more than it did, but the reality is different when you enter a field and see maybe five or so other runners spread out in a line over the next few hundred meters. This did make more sense, especially as we’d all set off according to our estimated finish time so would have the similar goals and pacing strategies. As I neared Guildford I did have to shout after two runners who’d misinterpreted one of the signs and taken the wrong path. Thankfully this was an area I’d run many times so I was able to call after them confidently and get them back on track.

Another change to the format of the race this year was the setup of the aid stations and the removal of the first one to prevent a build up of runners early on. Skipping the first aid station wasn’t a problem given the lower morning temperatures and freshness in our legs. So first up it was Newlands Corner, shortly after the first big climb up to St Martha-on- the-hill. This aid station was going to be a learning curve with lessons for the rest of the day. To accommodate runners safely, it was fundamentally different from aid stations runners have become comfortable with. First up there was a ‘funnel’ set up for runners to queue in safely. A volunteer stood a few meters ahead of the funnel directing runners either into the aid station if they wanted to stop or passed it if they didn’t require assistance. We were advised to wait patiently at a distance from each other and start preparing what we needed to, ready to enter. As we reached the front of the funnel we were directed to the anti-bac to sanitise our hands as we waited for the table and equipment to be sanitised by another volunteer as the last runner departed. There were three tables set up here, each in effect a mini aid station with all the necessary water, Tailwind, food and medical items. When instructed, we stepped forward to a vacant, sanitised station to serve ourselves. Another volunteer waited at the far end of the table to provide support from a safe distance if needed. Once we had served ourselves water/electrolytes and individually packaged food items, we were directed out and requested to sanitise our hands once more as we left. We were then set loose back on the trail. The volunteers, all head to toe in PPE, were fantastic.

So what lessons did I immediately learn from this new experience? Firstly, to think through my hand sanitising routine and handling of bottles. I covered my bottle lids in alcohol gel which I needed to wipe off. Secondly, queuing for a few short minutes would be the new norm. Not all runners were as quick on the update to prepare their bottles and own supplements whilst queuing and naturally it takes a little longer when at the table. Thirdly, the selection of food in pre-packed bags is very convenient and I had to fight back the temptation to grab a bit of everything. Fourthly, whole oranges (rather than slices) are firkken great. I took one to eat and one to carry to have slightly later. Finally, I was glad I was a runner and not a volunteer. Being dressed in PPE in that heat and having to fight back the urge to more directly help runners was going to be a very tough day for them, running 100 miles seemed far more appealing!

After Newlands Corner there is a fairly long and runnable stretch of woodlands. Its really lovely, but one of my least favourite sections of the North Downs Way for running. It’s just relatively flat and it seems to drag on for ever. I wasn’t looking forward to this so early into the run but thankfully I enjoyed another few little boosts. First there was a feint sound of a bell ringing, as I neared the source it turned out to be Matt Buck and his daughter cheering on the runners. Shortly afterwards I passed two more familiar faces, Leo and James, running in the opposite direction. Quick hellos, smiles and shouts of encouragement were very welcomed here.

Fields

Arriving to Box Hill the route first takes you down through Denbies Wine Estate. Its a nice long and gentle down hill on pathed roads so I took it easy beforehand and walked the road to the path entrance. With perfect timing, I heard a lady tell another runner she was going to walk for a bit and she’d catch him up. I recognised the sound of her voice, turned around and was greeted with a loud “Daiiiii!”. It was Ally behind me. Despite living very close to each other, we’d not run together since we first met during the Serpent Trail Race in 2018. We ran the rest of the way to Box Hill together and it was so good to share some time on the feet with her again after so long. It was a very speedy jaunt down Denbies too!

I was a bit more organised going into the aid station at Box Hill and managed a few jokes with the volunteers. Filling up on Tailwind once more I also picked up another two oranges and enjoyed them whilst walking to the underpass to cross the road. I said my good byes to Ally as she powered on with the intention to get as far passed Reigate Hill before it got too warm. Wise choice. She was looking very comfortable running today.

At Box Hill this year the route took a diversion. We came off the infamous Box Hill steps about half way up and detoured around the bottom of the hill before climbing further along the trails to avoid the busy tourist viewpoint. I think this was a blessing, those steps really sap your energy! It was here I first met a chap called Nigel who was a veteran of 13 Centurion 100 mile events as well as their intriguing “piece of string” race. We swapped tales and experiences as we enjoyed the climb together.

Further on my energy was quickly drained as I tackled Reigate Hill. Here I realised I was in a bit of bother. Whilst I was fine hiking the hill, when I reached the top and tried to run, my legs just told me to naff off. I’d not experienced this before – I started cramping, bad, everywhere. My calves, my quads, my hamstrings, my groin. Both legs, all parts simultaneously pulsing and tensing up. I tried to run but my legs went as straight as sticks rotating out in circles from my hips. It wasn’t going to work. I set my mind to walking to the aid station which hopefully wasn’t too far away. Up on Reigate Hill there was plenty of open space in the now midday sun. Walking was probably a good thing. I managed a smile with a photographer who sympathised with me. I went easy on myself though, I had covered about 50km in 6 hours or so which was well on schedule for my simple plan. I hobbled on to the aid station and then set off once more, briefly seeing Ally duck out from the cafe with ice cold Calippos as I munched down some prawn cocktail crisps and another two oranges, I was really enjoying the juicy oranges!

From Reigate was a struggle. I think I’ve mentally blocked it all out. There was a lot of walking and not too much running. Suffering with early signs of heat exhaustion already, I was slipping into some dark thoughts. I just couldn’t get the legs to fire up again. The cramping was persistent. I had a lot of salted food in crisps, salted cashews, pretzels and Tailwind and I hoped at some point it would all kick in. I made it to Mersham and the welcome sight of the wonderful ladies who I volunteered with the year before. They gave me some ice in a little packet which I put under my cap and sent me on my way. Next stop, Caterham.

Just after Mersham is a long road used as a crew point location. It was amazing to see so many supporters here. One familiar face I spotted was David Bone of the famous duo DaznBone. He was out there crewing Daz who wasn’t far behind me. Again such a boost to receive a warm smile and encouragement from someone I’d not met in person before. Shortly after seeing Bone I had another boost when I was thinking how much I’d enjoy a cold tap. Almost exactly as this thought crossed my mind a lady running towards me clapped me on and shouted back “there is a cold tap at the end of the church yard”. Fucking yes!!! Unbelievable luck. I was like a hawk seeking it out before practically having a shower in the graveyard. It was bliss. The good points continued briefly as I then passed Ale who’d cycled down to wait on the trails and say hello. Thanks Ale!!

As I carried on to Caterham, those good feelings soon evaporated and it was back to a now familiar story of struggle. I’ve very little recollection other than climbing in what looked like a desolate field and having to take a moment on a log before nature came calling and then further on meeting Ian and chatting away as we walked. We shared stories from our adventures and the day so far as well as comparing the aches and pains we were feeling. We came to the same realisation that one reason we might have been struggling in the heat more than we anticipated is the possible concentration of Tailwind at the aid station. I know from my volunteering the year before that it is difficult to mix such a large quantity and also ensure enough for all runners. Ian and I came to the conclusion though that the concentration was weaker than what we are used to. I made two decisions here to attempt to get my race back on track, firstly, I’d switch to using the Tailwind I’d brought (I guess I anticipated this problem a little) and secondly I accepted I needed to rest for a few mins every now and then. With the new aid station set ups you are very much ‘in and out’ and I think the little rest I’d normally have chilling and talking to runners and volunteers was missing. I decided I’d find some shade at Caterham and sit down for a bit. I also made a third decision – that I’d “DNS” my next race in Bulgaria which was just two weeks away. If I was struggling with the Surrey Hills now, I’d really struggle with a tired body in the Rhodope mountain range. I had to accept my fitness level is far from optimal for what I want to accomplish and, with the rest of my friends having already making the decision not to go, it wouldn’t be the same experience I’d originality signed up for. It was decided. I’d be sensible this time.

I did just as I promised at Caterham, saying farewell to Ian as he wisely warned me not to sit for too long, I sat on a bench perfectly in the shade with a view looking back across the NDW. As I ate more oranges and pretzels a local runner joined me and sat at the end of the bench. We had a delightful chat as he praised us all for our achievements. He was an older gentleman who lived locally and took up running during lockdown. Despite living close by he’d never been on the North Downs before and now every weekend he ran an out and back 25km route. This was the bench he used to escape the sun on the hot days. I thanked him for the conversation and moment on his bench and wished him well. It was a great moment to speak so easily with a stranger on the trails.

After Caterham I momentarily had a bit of a jog on again, the legs cooperated for a while at least. There was another crew spot and as I ran down the forest trails I heard a voice call out “there he is”, looking up I once more saw Bone. I felt like he was here supporting just me. It was great. His beaming smile transferred energy to me, which was much needed as I’d left Caterham completely forgetting about this section to Botley Hill. Annoyingly I thought I was now heading to the half way mark, but I wasn’t, not yet. I was ready for a longer break and some fizzy coke (I always hold off hitting the coke until at least halfway). Botley Hill was a bitch in the heat. The climb was slow and awkward.

The Botley Hill aid station was fairly busy. Maybe somewhere between 5-10 runners arriving at the same time. A real test for the volunteers. They did a great job providing us clear instructions and helping ensure turnaround was efficiently managed. I grabbed a banana and some more crisps to go with my now customary two oranges. I don’t like bananas but I was still cramping badly so was willing to do anything I could to try and calm it down. I found a log and sat down and probably spent about ten minutes trying to chew the banana. I forced it down. I had to. You need to during endurance events. “Can’t eat” and “Don’t want to eat” aren’t acceptable. You need to do everything you can to ensure your body has the fuel to keep going. No excuses.

Finally Sunset

We were now passing through loads of fields which I recognised from the recces I’d done. It was amazing to see them at a different stage of growth. Some fields which were golden were now lush green crops ready for harvest. Others were down to the dry soil after already being recently harvested. I found it fascinating. I arrived in one and could see runners ahead walking up the next side of the field. I knew here we weren’t far from Knockholt (I took a wrong turn here on a recce so remember it well) and I started power walking. We chatted away with the usual “how you feeling?” ice breaker leading to a general consensus that we all felt absolutely fucked and couldn’t run. None of us could recall the last stretch of consistent running we’d done. Oddly, this made me feel a little better. I wasn’t alone in finding this tough! Out of the field we saw the signpost indicating 1 mile to Knockholt Village. I walked on. An older gentleman soon ran passed me proclaiming “Half a mile to go”. I tagged on behind him and ran it all. The furthest I’d run for hours. I thanked him as we reached the village.

By now it must be clear that I was dinning out on the generous support of familiar faces and strangers alike. That was my energy source this day. Whilst the soaring summer temperatures took my physical energy, it couldn’t beat my mental strength which was being topped up constantly, something I hadn’t planned for. Knockholt saw a massive refill of energy in the familiar shape of Paul Christian. What he was doing all the way out here in Knockholt I did not know. It was great to see him and I’m so grateful for him being there. I was a little out of it, fantasising of the shade of the village hall and some coke, so kind of ignored him as I rushed in the aid station. As too I stared in a daze at another chap, Andy, who called out and said hello to me. Sorry Andy!

Captured by PC!

Coming back out of the aid station I felt rested. I knew Otford was the next stopping point and I’d agreed a few hours earlier to meet up with Jon and Nick for the first time here instead of later on at Wrotham. In the dark moments of the earlier heat Jon had sensed I was struggling and proposed a new crew plan. Spot on Jon, I can’t thank you enough for making that decision! Leaving Knockholt, Paul walked with me. We chatted away and he gave me some tips following his successful completion of the route last year. We passed Hezel who was getting ready to Pace Giffy and powered on back to the NDW. Fresh with Paul’s energy I started running again. My legs were working. It was starting to cool down. My mind was clearing and I was able to focus on the section at hand, putting the bigger picture to one side for a bit. For so long I’d been thinking of the end goal. Thoughts like “I’ve over two marathons still to go”, “how can I walk 50 miles”, “The cut offs are actually going to be tight today” etc. were poisoning my mind, dragging me down and making it difficult to focus. Now thought I was breaking through them. Positivity was setting me straight. Otford here I come…

There was plenty more running during this section although some serious cramping also hindered me in the still blistering hot evening. At one point as I shuffled passed some runners my legs went completely. I don’t know who panicked more, me or them as they checked in if I was ok as I abruptly came to a stop and wobbled to the side of the trail. All good I assured them. Clearly it wasn’t. The one good thing for my legs though was that they were no longer the primary source of my pains. Nope. My feet had now taken the lead in the pain stakes. Whilst the cooling temperatures and food might help the cramps diminish, nothing was going to happen to make my feet feel better than they did now, and they didn’t feel good. Hot spots and blisters were forming. 12 plus hours of feet slapping the baked Earth was starting to be felt.

The picturesque village of Otford soon came round after a few less than enjoyable kms along some busy main roads. I was looking everywhere for Jon and Nick (having not read the exact location of this crew zone) and eventually found them up near the station. I aggressively waved them across the road, indicating there was no way I was crossing it (later realising they were on the correct side I needed to be on! oops, sorry lads). They sat me down and gave me Calippos. Hell yes. This is what I needed. Jon made sure I didn’t stay for too long, knowing that I’d a planned rest stop in another 6 miles when I reached Wrotham. So eventually he kicked me out of the chair and made me get moving. Top work right there, he knew what he was doing. I would have happily sat there through the night. He also let me know that he and Nick had agreed a new change to out pacing plan. He’d join me from Wrotham rather than 12 miles later. I wasn’t immediately sure what this meant for the rest of the night, but I was very grateful as I was ready for the company now.

Heaven in the form of a Calippo and chair

Getting to Wrotham was a sweaty mess. There is a lovely climb out of Otford that instantly gets the heart pumping. Along the way families offered ice pops from over their garden fences, unknown to them most runners had just been gorging on Calippos at the crew point. As I progressed through this section, the sun’s rays diminished almost in perfect synchrony as I arrived into Wrotham just as I would have needed to start using my torch. Jon and Nick waved me down and the pit stop began. Propped up in a camping chair, with the Champions League showing on a tablet, I sent Nick off to prepare a Pot Noodle and began my routine. First up, stripping off and having a dry shower. Jon and Nick laughed as I seemed to enjoy this so much, washing my hair, torso and body. Thankfully the feet weren’t looking too mangled at this stage but I took the precautions of adding some padding and tapping the hot spots I could feel. We struggled to get the socks back on and Jon rightly pointed out it was time for me to get new ones (I’ve plenty in a box!) as they were stiff from the amount of dirt and washing they’ve been through. Eventually we won the battle. Shoes changed, fresh kit on, warm food consumed and bag repacked, it was over way to quickly and after a good half hour plus Jon was dragging me out of the chair and forcing me to leave once more. Good man.

The memories go hazy here. I had to question timings and locations after the race with Jon and Nick as I was clearly confused on the order of my recollections. Apparently next up was Holly Hill. I distinctly remember sitting next to a runner in the dark only for Jon to later point out it was a skeleton dressed in running gear. I also had a spot check on my kit here and recall joking with the volunteer. In my mind though this all felt much later in the race, but no, it was still Saturday evening!

I think my memory is hazy due to Jon, in a good way. Now I had company I was focusing less. Jon was expertly ensuring I was on course and keeping me occupied with conversation and pushing me to run when the opportunity presented itself. If the ground wasn’t lumpy, wasn’t inclined and wasn’t endless pathed road, I was good to go. With him leading the way, setting the pace, I was able to keep my head down and focus on where I was placing my feet to minimise the pain. Thankfully the taping saw me good for the first few miles. I do recall one section in the dark we passed some runners concerned that they’d missed a turn as they hadn’t seen tape or signs for a while but we were confident and led the way.

Not my picture – It was dark when I arrived here

After Holly Hill there was a a fairly long down hill section. The space opens up and we could see head torches in the distance as well as the silhouette of the Kentish country side and Bluebell Hill. I knew from my recces we’d soon cross along the M2 over the River Medway where we’d then meet Nick once more. In the darkness though I was disorientated and moaned a bit as the lights of the M2 seemed so far away. I couldn’t figure out our direction and sighed as we crossed a bridge and I realised it wasn’t yet the M2. We caught up with Nigel along this point and fast hiked the rest of the way together into Nashendarn Farm Lane, looking for Nick. I was looking forward to this stop. Besides being a little over a marathon to the finish (which was a significant milestone in my head as I’d now really be able to start counting down and am always confident in walking a marathon in a long race) it was also our planned ‘treat’ stop. Nick had spent the last few hours waiting in a Mcdonalds. Here he was waiting for us with a delivery burger and fries. It tasted so good.

Calories loaded up, we were back out, hiking the climb to Bluebell Hill. I remember this from the recce too. I’ts a long gradual climb over a couple of kms until you reach the top. The terrain is fairly varied but mostly stony gravel paths which aren’t exactly fun after 75 miles of running. Up top though was another surprise and boost as Paul Christian was waiting at the aid station to say hello once more. What a gent, I don’t know exactly what time it was but it was probably around midnight and he was even further away from home now too. We all had a moment chatting as Nick arrived too before Jon got me back on my feet and onward to Detling. Running down from Bluebell Hill I had a bit of a spring in my step and with the midnight breeze it was the first time in about 20 hours that I wasn’t overheating. Which was good, because there was another fine climb at Westfield Woods soon to come which would make me sweat again. The climb was slow as I awkwardly lunged up the deep steps and loose dirt track. Up top we were once again exposed to the elements, briefly interchanging open fields with single track paths through overgrown foliage. The now familiar process of Jon leading the way, me head down trudging along behind him.

The legend that is PC!
Always sitting down

There were prolonged moments of silence. Jon noticed me go quiet, he knew, he’s been through it himself. I was head down focusing. I wasn’t alone in my thoughts though. There was a centurion there too, he was running slightly ahead of me through the woods. He was huge, too big to fit on the path. A bulking mass of metal smashing through the foliage with his gladius. I felt like he was tormenting me, teasing me even. He couldn’t speak, he lumbered on aggressively and I could hear the sound of his armour chinking. A sound which drove right through me. Head down and focus I kept thinking. He’s not my enemy, only I am. I convinced myself he was here to guide me through the night, I chose to use him, to follow him and accept the thrashing sound of metal in the night. He left me as we emerged from Boxley Wood when a few other speedy runners galloped passed on the downhill as I relied purely on gravity to keep me moving forward.

We emerged onto Detling Road with just the bridge crossing left to cover before the next planned long stop at Detling where another Pot Noodle was on the cards. Crossing over the road an Irish accent directed down into the aid station before doing a double take and proclaiming “it’s you guys”. The instantly recognisable accent of Paul Martin! He escorted me in as Jon went in search of Nick who was sleeping in his car. Slacker. Paul saw to our needs, joking away as more runners arrived and slumped into chairs around us. Nigel arrived and I offered him a Pot Noodle, the smell of noodles in the air must have been great as, before we knew it, Paul was running around gathering all the Pot Noodles he could to serve everyone. What a top bloke. He updated us on the now significant drop out rate and gave us motivation and energy to get back out there. Jon and Nick swapped duties here and Nick led me out to begin the last 20 miles, immediately turning the wrong way, thankfully only for a few metres though.

Pacer duty switch. Thanks Jon!

From Detling the route provides another sadistic treat for tired legs which is the infamous Detling steps. After a short climb and winding path around some fields, you descend down very narrow, very steep and very over grown steps. About 50 of them I think. They were slippery with dew and cow shit. I must have moaned a bit here and I wouldn’t have been alone in doing so! The section to the next crew stop was undulating providing plenty of opportunity to hike the small climbs and run the short downhills. Nick continued the pacing theme with a good grasp of the terrain and when to push me on and encourage. Finishing with a downhill flourish we emerged into Hollingbourne which was one of the last minute additional crew points added to the race. I was glad of this addition. Mentally I’d now split the final 30km or so into 6-7km sections between aid stations and crew points. It was much more manageable. Jon met us at the Dirty Habbit pub with more food and water and a quick sit down to rest the now completely battered legs. Morning was slowly breaking and the darkness of night was giving away to the greyness of an overcast morning sky.

Back out. Nick had me on a ‘trot’ to Lenham, the next aid station. From Hollingbourne the rest of the route is mostly gravel paths with very short, runnable (not this time!) climbs before tailing off into a mostly downhill stretch to Ashford. The theme was ‘trot trot trot’ as Nick kept pushing and encouraging me. He’d been looking forward to this and having a run himself after tracking and following me all day. From time to time he acknowledge a good stretch of prolonged running. I’d occasionally be buzzing with it too only to have the life sucked out of me when what I thought would have been a mile or two of solid running would turn out to be a few hundred metres at best. I was at that stage now where the relativity of speed and distances was completely lost on me. That point where you question your comprehension of physics and how it is possible you’ve covered only such a short distance. You recall every detail you saw, every path, tree and field. How?! How can all that exist in such a small space. Fuck you. Ok, two more miles till the next stop. There were definitely moments where my shuffling was based on pure anger and it was the only thing that kept me running until the legs gave up again another few hundred metres later. I even remember moaning at the size of the bank we had to “climb” to get into the Lenham aid station. It must have been about the size of a pavement curb at best, but it felt like the mountains of Madeira to me!

Despite the dark times, the simple pleasures Nick was enjoying was rubbing off on me, pulling me back into the light. “Trot Trot Trot” he’d say, “trot, walk, walk” I’d do. One last crew spot to go as we headed towards Charing. My mind now processing each section with elements of finality. One last crew spot. One more aid station. One more ‘path’ before Ashford…. Jon had text ahead to indicate the road was closed so he couldn’t bring the car to meet us. I told him a chair and lucazade is what I needed him to bring. As we arrived and I sat down, I asked him for water. He gave me that look and laughed “that wasn’t on the list! I’ll go get it…” Thanks Jon! Charing was another spot I was happy to stay at indefinitely. As I stood to begin again my legs were as stiff as two planks. Each rest now required a good few minutes of persuasion to get my knees to bend.

From Charing we headed along the hard gravel path to Dunn St campsite. The path was painful. There is very little enjoyable about this section. The fields surrounding it are lovely, but I’d seen enough fields. The main road wasn’t far away and the sound of morning traffic was an alien sound not heard for hours, not enjoyable. Nick dragged me onwards as once more I’d claim Space and Time were fucking with me. Every turn I anticipated the camp site ahead, every turn the camp site wasn’t there. Eventually it did appear as I was teaching Nick the Polish for ‘chicken’. I can’t remember why. I went to sit down and he went off to play with the chickens at the campsite. The volunteers were great here. Full of energy and excitement to see us. They were working the ‘graveyard’ aid station. The one open for probably the longest duration between the first and last runners, the one many runners won’t reach. They encouraged us to fill up our bags with food and goodies and they let us know there were probably about 60 runners still out there. Some ahead of us, many still behind us.

This was it now though, 5 more miles to go. A short run on the trails and through some fields before the final, dreaded road section to the stadium. I knew it, I could visualise all the road. I was ready for it, I wanted it now, the finish that is. Leaving the trails we began a trot along the road and were soon passing groups of runners. Nick playing Pac-Man, pointing ahead and claiming “we’re gonna eat them up” as he’d set the targets and nicknames for the runners we’d chase down. With maybe 5 or 6 km to go we had about 50 minutes left to get a sub 28 hour time. I told Nick I wanted it, I didn’t care about the other runners. A few minutes later I’d claim someone was catching us or that we need to get passed those ahead of us. I was inconsistent with my thoughts. Nick kept the consistency though, trot, trot, trot.

We broke out onto the main Faversham road and could see dots of runners ahead. We stepped it up. The grey morning was now breaking into a scorching hot day again and we could feel the heat beaming down on us. We got to the intersection of Ulley road with a group of maybe 6 – 8 other runners. It was on. After some jokes and good wishes we all broke into a mad dash. I remember thinking it was way too early to be “sprinting”, but we were. We powered ahead, my watch was saying we were running sub 7min/km pace. Ulley road felt like it went on forever as we pushed hard. Rounding the corner I needed to slow and walk. More runners ahead. I couldn’t do this all the way to the finish. I told Nick to let them go. The few hundred metres we’d need to cover down Canterbury road had a very slight incline which I knew would drain me if I attempted to run it. Two runners ahead, two more went passed. We let them. Up ahead we’d need to go the ‘long way’ round a roundabout, keeping to the right-hand side of the road. The two runners who overtook us cut the corner and went left, passing the other two who followed the slightly wider course. We cursed them.

Around the roundabout we walked and then began running again for the last street. I wasn’t entirely sure how far along it would be (on my recce I’d cut off along this road to run to the train station) but I did know we had three-quarters of a lap of the track still to do. It didn’t matter though, this was it, this was the end. It was almost in touching distance now. We reached the track and followed the signage directing us how to get in. Jon was there cheering and waving us in. Nick started to peel off but I told him to follow me and join for the lap of the track, this was his as much as mine now. I regret Jon also couldn’t join us on the “victory lap”. We paced around the track and began smiling as the final straight loomed. We joked about racing, but it never happened. Instead I ducked my head as I crossed the finish line. What I thought was a perfectly formed athletics-style finish but in reality was probably just me nodding forward and sleepily looking at the ground with my arms flapping like a penguin.

The finish line, despite its subdued set up this year, was great. A volunteer directed me to collect a medal and a t shirt before instructing me where to stand for a finish line photo. Post photo I was directed towards a food tent where I collected a hot dog before moving on through the bag collection and reunited with Nick and Jon for the last time. Shortly after I was butt naked in the car park, changing out of my wet clothes ready for the drive home. It was over. I’d run a 100 miles for the second time, proving to myself that the first time wasn’t a fluke achievement. With a rapid last 5km covered in just under 35 minutes I finished in 27 hours and 45 minutes, sub 28 hours achieved. I was a centurion now……

As the final few hours of the race unfolded it soon became apparent the extent of the difficulties the runners faced as 55% of starters DNF’d, making it one of the highest drop out rate of any centurion 100 mile event. This made me far more accepting of my struggles during the middle of the race and understanding of how alone in I felt. Huge respect to everyone who started that day, regardless of where their race ended, they put themselves outside their comfort zone and were brave enough to attempt something special.

I can’t thank Jon and Nick enough and acknowledge how this really was a team effort. I’ve no doubt in my mind that I wouldn’t have finished within the cut-off of 30 hours without these guys. 2 hours sounds like an ample buffer, but the reality of how tight that equates to is another story. Without them I would have run a lot less between Wrotham and Ashford for sure. those spare 2 hours would have evaporated as quickly as a muddy puddle in the midday heat. It isn’t just about the running though. These two sacrificed so much for me on the weekend. they volunteered and agreed to crew me with out fuss, they gave up hours leading up to the weekend in preparation, wrote off their weekend to commit themselves to my selfish desires. They drove miles and miles, spent ages sitting around in the car and at the side of the road, pandered to my every need and inconsistent requests. Not once did they moan or flinch at my demands. they were solely focused on enhancing my experience and doing everything they could to make sure I made it on time. This weekend was a team effort for sure and one I’ll never forget. Thanks gents!