I knew I had to run. The 5:20pm cut-off at Southease aid station (mile 34) was looming large. I’d been consistently within 20-25 minutes of the cut-offs at every aid station so far. Now that the bigger hills had arrived, time was slipping away on the climbs, and I’d long ago realised that I was going to have to run the flats and downhills if I was going to finish within the 13 hour cut-off. So I ran. Not fast, but faster than walking. And that was going to be enough today. It would be close though.
My previous race had ended in a DNF
A frustrating time
After my humbling at The Lap in the Lake District last May, when I finished but ended up walking most of the last 30 miles due to a distinct lack of hill training and taking 17 hours to do 47 miles, the fellow up race ended with a voluntary DNF. 50k into the Serpent Trail 100k I was struggling with foot pain as well as the troublesome achilles and decided to call it quits. To regroup, reset, and patiently rebuild.
This I did. My foot pain continued but was manageable and didn’t stop me running. I gradually gained fitness from intervals and slowly increasing training time. I resumed the strength and conditioning workouts that had been, err, forgotten about for a year. I felt increasingly positive. Then I caught Covid in December. And my foot pain worsened. I was pretty sure I had the dreaded plantar fasciitis (or plantar heel pain as they seem to call it now).
When I resumed training at the end of 2023, I felt sluggish and was very carefully monitoring my foot pain during each run. I limited my runs to 5 days a week, with 1-2 strength and conditioning sessions and 1 complete rest day. I committed to daily mobility work and using a voodoo floss band, lacrosse ball, golf ball, spiky ball, and rolling my dodgy foot. And I avoided hills, fearing a repeat of last year when I aggravated my achilles by doing a crash course in hills and too much elevation too soon in the month before The Lap.
Going into the South Downs Way 50, I knew that I’d be calling upon my running fitness and my ability to power hike the uphills from previous races. I also knew that trying to match (or get anywhere close to) my 10h29m 50-mile PB from the SDW50 in 2022 would end in disaster and another DNF. And I couldn’t afford that. I have the Jurassic Coast 100 coming up in June and desperately needed to finish this race to remind myself that I can run these distances.
My virtual pacer
2 days before the race, I decided that I’d bring along a virtual pacer to help me when things got tough. More on that later.
With Zoe, Brendan and the other 400+ starters. And a beard that’s no longer there!
Off we go
I started at the back of the pack, deliberately holding back and power hiking all of the inclines in order to preserve energy for the latter part of the race. I hadn’t run further than 16 miles in training. And most of my training had been on roads.
Ego well and truly parked, I focused on maintaining a comfortable pace and committed to hiking the uphills with purpose and running the flats and downhills. This took away the need to make decisions. As Gary Robbins once said, “Don’t think. Just do.” So I did.
Climbing up to the South Downs Way as the early morning mist slowly cleared
And I loved it for the first 10 miles or so.
Early days, early haze (Photo: Pierre Papet)Living my best life, heading up to Chanctonbury Ring, and descending in the direction of Botolphs
Botolphs to Housedean Farm
A freshly made Marmite sandwich to munch on the climb after the aid station
Seeing Zoe again as I made my way to Devil’s Dyke
Catching up with Simon, volunteering at Saddlescombe Farm
Managing to run when not climbing (or eating)
The deafening cries of my inner voice to “stop and walk” many times, quickly silenced only to resume (and louder)
Kinda enjoying the evil downhill before Housedean Farm
Arriving at Housedean Farm aid station still with 20+ minutes to spare on the cut-off
Man on a mission (Photo: Zoe Norman)Striding up to the Clayton Windmills turn on the South Downs Way (Photo: Kevin Stone)
Housedean Farm to Alfriston
Really beginning to feel the uphill climbs in my legs
Maintaining momentum and moving with purpose
Mostly eating wine gums
Loving/loathing (guess which) all of the false summits
Pushing to maintain that 20-25 minutes cushion on the cut-offs
Constantly doing mental maths, calculating and recalculating how much longer I had to finish within the cut-off and average pace required
Talking to my virtual pacer
Regularly looking at the positive message on the bracelet Brendan’s daughter Eden made for me that he handed me before the start
Resolving to get it done
Witnessing a runner ahead of me being crewed at the top of Star Lane, just before Alfriston aid station
Feeling very frustrated as I’m busting my arse trying to get this done, and he’s benefitting from assistance (against the rules)
Alfriston to Eastbourne (and the finish)
Eden’s good luck charmReminding myself to look up and take in the fantastic views on the South Downs along the wayJevington, no time to stop for a bite to eatLoving the climb out of Jevington, headtorch at the ready Nearly there (Photo: Pierre Papet)
Marching on, running and hiking as before, determined to get this done
Remembering how endless the climb out of Alfriston feels as it goes on and on, the light to fade as the climbing continues
Pushing on
Stopping at Jevington aid station to say hi to James and thank him and the other volunteers, and ask for help with my headtorch as darkness is looming
Heading up the last climb towards the trig point
Continuing the mental maths I’ve been doing all race, constantly recalculating how long I have to get to the next aid station (the finish at this point) and staying on pace
Bracing myself for the descent of the gully of doom just after the trig point
Experiencing the gully descent by headtorch for the first time, something I don’t recommend!
Finally reaching the road and turning right, knowing that the finish is only 2 miles away
Remembering that 2 miles feels a lot, lot further at the end of an ultra
Turning the corner, finally reaching the path that skirts around the hospital and leads to the sports park
Somehow managing to speed up (it’s all relative, right) and overtake two runners before entering the sports park and hitting the track
Accelerating (again, it’s all relative) as I ran the final 400m around the track towards the finish line
Sheer and utterly relief as I approach and then cross the finish line
Emotional
And then it was done. I finished with just over 16 minutes to spare.
Done. And done in!
And, boy oh boy, was that finish special.
Over almost 13 hours I had reminded myself that I can push through discomfort, keep going when the demons are trying to persuade me to give in or slow down, and run these distances.
My overriding feelings upon receiving my medal were relief, gratitude, and sadness.
Relieved to have finished an ultra again.
Grateful to be part of this community.
Sadness that my cousin Sebastian is no longer here to see how much he is loved and the strength he gave me along the way.
Tired and emotional, with Sebastian (Bas) and the medal that he helped me earn
So went the WhatsApp I sent my brother, who’d just completed another Half Ironman race and was urging me on virtually, as I trudged my way through the 11th hour of my circumnavigation of Lake Windermere. There was never a doubt in my mind that I’d finish – after all, the race has a 24 hour cut off and encourages walkers as well as runners to take part – but I most definitely wasn’t relishing it.
Route map, the top third on the reverse
The build up
Following a good training race, the Phoenix Running Track Wars 6 Hour Midnight event 6 weeks before The Lap, my training was less than ideal:
A heavy cough led me to take a week of running as a precaution
It took another 10 days to shift my cough, and runs felt laboured
I managed a couple of decent long runs with plenty of elevation gain
My right achilles then flared up, so I took another week off running
Some mountain bike rides followed, before easy runs resumed
A couple of runs later, I rested my achilles some more as a precaution
6 days before the race, I ran 9 miles with minimal achilles issues
All in all, not the ideal build up to The Lap. However, having been concerned 4 weeks out that I wouldn’t even make the start line due to my achilles issue, I was relieved to make my way up to the Lake District the day before the race.
And boy oh boy, did I smile when the sign for The Lakes appeared on the M6 North on the 325 mile drive on Friday. I could make out the hills in the distance. What a sight.
One of the views from the B&B I stayed in, at High Wray near Ambleside
The goal
I’d decided to run The Lap for a number of reasons, including to:
experience running somewhere new
see why so many runners rave about the Lake District hills
run without the pressure of achieving a time goal, having spent 2021 and 2022 working towards (and achieving) a sub-24 hour 100 mile finish
Ultimately, I had set out to gain new experience and have a running adventure. And I certainly got my wish!
The reality
Race briefing, ready for the 6am start
Although I hadn’t declared a time goal for the race, I still had one in mind. I was hoping I’d be able to finish in 12 – 15 hours, so was expecting to reach the finish before sundown. How wrong I was!
Here’s a summary of my recollections from the race:
Congested start on single-track trails, for the first couple of miles
Early morning mist on Lake Windermere, beautiful and eerie
Lake Windermere at 6am, the cloud inversion leading to low level mist
Gradually climbs through forests, with some downhills to keep the legs turning over early on
One of the early descents, with the mist in the valley a glorious sightClimbing Latterbarrow in the early morning mistThe top of Latterbarrow, the first of many hilltop views to take the breath awayAlmost everyone stopped for a selfie at the top of Latterbarrow
Steady progress in the first 17 miles, enjoying the (occasional) flat trail and the downhills while marvelling at the scenery
Stone walls and sheep aplenty on this route Beginning the climb up Wansfell Pike“Enjoying” the climb up Wansfell Pike Head down, almost at the summit of Wansfell Pike Reaching the summit of Wansfell Pike At the summit of Wansfell Pike, Lake Windermere belowBeginning the descent of Wansfell Pike (I didn’t run down this bit, I’m far too clumsy)A few minutes later, I was feet deep in bogs!
The views from the hilltops around Lake Windermere are majestic, rewarding the climbs
The sun sometimes shines in the Lake District and it was a warm day
My achilles was grumbling on the first few climbs but didn’t trouble me at all from mile 18 (post-race, it’s grumbling again)
After the first 17 miles, with half of the total elevation gain for the full 47 miles, my legs were heavy and my head had gone
Apart from the occasional downhill and flat, I power hiked from mile 18 to the finish
Two slices of freshly cooked pepperoni pizza at the 20-mile aid statoon tasted divine
These trails are much more technical than I expected, with rocks and roots in plentiful supply
Every aid station was well stocked and the volunteers were excellent
Views to relishBrilliantly marked course, I didn’t get lost at allLake Windermere stayed with us all day!Another climb, but what a place to do itOne of the later summits, the views of Lake Windermere never got boring An inquisitive lamb Wonderful On the home stretch (well, almost)
Several of the descents and flat trails were technical, demanding concentration and nimble footwork or careful foot placement
The last downhill through the woods on tired legs was gnarly, clambering down rocks and avoiding roots via headtorch being “interesting “
Approaching the finish line in the dark to cheers and holders from the volunteers was such a relief
Sweet potatoes and chickpea curry wouldn’t have been my first choice of finish line food, but it was delicious
Knackered and happy to have got it done
Lessons learned
Punchy climbs, Wansfell Pike the toughest!The Lap of Lake Windermere, done
What went well?
Nutrition – I managed my food intake better than in recent races, with a combination of real food at the aid stations (salty crisps, bread, pizza, bananas), bars and gels
Hydration – taking a 3rd 500ml soft flask helped me to stay hydrated during a warm day
Kit – despite a warm day and a few unavoidable foot dunking in bogs I had no blisters and minimal chafing (result)
Resilience – although I was struggling with mental demons from mile 18, I dug in and ground out the finish (I haven’t missed you, death march)
What didn’t go well?
Energy – despite improved nutrition management, I was struggling for energy after Wansfell Pike (the first 17 miles took me 5.5 hours)
Nausea – after some of a honey gel got stuck at the back of my throat 21 miles in, several miles of coughing and a bout of vomiting followed (eventually remedied by washing it down with sips of water and a Mountain Fuel gel)
Mindset – as it became clear that I’d be finishing in more than 15 hours and in darkness, I let the negative thoughts take hold and spent several hours questioning my ability as a runner before focusing on enjoying the scenery while I moved forward slowly but purposefully
Training – cough and achilles issues aside, just didn’t train specifically enough for this race, and the lack of hilly long runs in training definitely didn’t help me on the day
What would I do differently?
Energy – pay more attention to my day to day lifestyle and nutrition habits as I’m carrying more weight than at the A100 in 2021 when I felt more energised and running felt easier
Training – prepare better for races with more specificity in running sessions and reintroduce weekly strength and conditioning (bodyweight) workouts, which also set me up so well for the A100 in 2021
Mindset – get back to building in sessions to my training that challenge me physically and mentally in order to help me to endure more for longer and run rather than (as I did a lot here) give in to the pain and drop to a walk
Final thoughts
I’m glad I did The Lap.
I achieved my goal of having a running adventure somewhere new, learning a lot about myself in the process. While I may have struggled, I didn’t give in. Following a couple of dream races in 2021 (A100) and 2022 (Centaur 100), both sub-24 hour 100 milers and new 100 mile PBs, I was due a good old dose of humility!
The Lap was everything I expected – beautiful views, brilliantly marked, and superbly organised.
It also caught me unawares – technical trails the like of which I’ve not run on before in a race, climbs that seem to go on forever, and with a warm sunny day (that was welcome)!
Would I go back?
I highly recommend The Lap.
As a so-called “low level” race, it’s a great introduction to running in the Lake District. I’ve no plans to run it again, there are other places to explore. Never say never though.
During and immediately after the race, after grinding out a finish at The Lap in the dark and definitely questioning my running ability, I had no intention of ever running the Lake District again (“F*** those hills, rocks and roots!”).
What a difference a day makes …
Now, I’m recalling the wonderful people, stunning scenery, and technical trails of the Lake District
Maybe I’ll be back, one day, to explore more of the running to be had in the Lake District (and actually manage to run a bit more next time too!). I’m now pondering a crack at the Grand Tour of Skiddaw, Lakes In A Day, or Lakeland 50.
It’s like the joggers who go round and round and round…
The full moon shines brightly on this cold night. My headtorch shows me the way ahead, sometimes illuminating my breath as it hits the cold air. The route is one where even navigationally challenged runners like me can’t get lost. I’m running without any aural distraction, no music, podcasts or audio books for company to take my mind off the task I’ve challenged myself with this time. There’s no hiding from the inner voices making their presence felt with increasing frequency as the hours and the miles build.
“You can’t keep running like this for the rest of the race. A few more walk breaks will be fine.”
“How much longer can you keep going? Just stop and walk for a bit. “
“Why don’t you just stop at the aid station for a bit to recharge? A few minutes won’t matter. And there’s cake.”
I keep going.
I started this race without a pacing strategy. One thing I had committed to was to keep going for the full 6 hours and to minimise time spent faffing at the aid stations. Of which there is only one. That we pass every 400m.
Yep. I talked myself into running a track race. One that started at midnight (I arrive early and am allowed to get started as it’s bloody freezing outside) and where I have 6 hours to run as many laps as I choose, or can, during that time.
A get out of jail free card is offered to everyone taking part in this Phoenix Running event, the main feature the 24 hour race that began at 8am on Friday morning. The race information on the website and pre-race enail remind me of this:
“You need to complete one lap to qualify for the finishers’ medal “
If I hate it then i can walk away, medal in hand, and it won’t count as a DNF (the frustrating, sometimes welcome buy often feared Did Not Finish).
Only I’m not going to quit.
I signed up for this race to test myself.
Have I become too soft? Have I lost my edge? Can I still push on through difficulty when it gets tough during a race?
My training for The Lap – a hilly 47 mile trail race around Lake Windermere in the Lake District, which I’ll be running in 9 weeks time – having gone well so far and included lots of hard interval, tempo and hill repetition running to challenge my body and mind. But I’ve had podcasts, audiobooks and music to distract me during these sessions.
I chose to spend 6 hours overnight running with a headtorch around a 400m track with nothing but my own thoughts, including the inner bitch (as Goggins refees to the inner voices and doubts which plague so many of us in running, work and all aspects of life). Tonight was going to be a battle of attrition. Me against me. And it was long overdue.
What did I think about as I ran around, and around, and around for hours on end?
Not a lot. I spent most of the time counting. Trying to keep track of the number of laps I’d run and when I would next drop by the aid station to grab an energy top up (mainly chocolate Freddos, jelly sweets and the occasional drink of cola) to consume on the scheduled walking laps which also gave my legs a break from the constant pounding of the pancake flat track.
Having started the race without a specific run/walk strategy, I quickly decided upon one. My first attempt at a run/walk strategy, during the 2019 Thames Path 100, had worked well and left me with sufficient energy to keep running in the later stages so I knew it’d be beneficial here. I had calculated that if I’d need to run 125 laps to reach 50k. This seemed like a good goal to aim for, and I worked out that 8 x 16 laps would get me to 124 laps. I’d already miscalculated, 8 x 16 equals 128!
From experience, I knew that breaking races down into bite size, manageable chunks takes away the overwhelm I’d felt when considering how many miles/hours/hills/laps were left. Tackling the race in 16 lap sections would help.
I was running by effort, at an easy pace I have dialled in through my training, determined to ensure that I didn’t push too hard so that my training for The Lap could resume quickly post-race.
Upon reflection, I overcooked it a bit and underfuelled in the first 32 laps. My run/walk strategy went from run 15/walk 1 for the first quarter of the race to walk 1/run 7, and in the later stages walk 1/run 3.
No matter. When I was on a run phase, I ran. My inner bitch tried to convince me to stop and walk many, many times but I kept telling it to STFU and willed my legs to keep running, despite the slowing of my pace.
I had to prove to myself that I could endure. So I endured.
118 laps and 29.5 miles later, I crossed the timing mats for the final time. I may not have managed 50k, but I had achieved my goal. I had kept moving for the whole 6 hours and won the mental battle of attrition.
And, as a bonus, I topped the Midnight 6 Hour Track Race leaderboard with the highest number of laps run. I had won a race for the first time in my life!
I signed up for this race because I knew it would suck. And it did, but I got through it.
Did I enjoy it? Not exactly. Running around a track in the cold and dark was rewarding, soul crushing, enlightening, and exactly the confidence boost I needed.
As I did the mental maths again the realisation dawned on me that my race plan was unravelling. It would take me over an hour longer than planned to reach the 50 mile point.
Pre-race planning
I’d set myself an ambitious goal of a 22h45m finish, hoping to go under 23 hours for the first time and knock 50 minutes off the 100 mile PB of 23h36m I’d set at the Autumn 100 in October 2021. Seeing my 25 mile target slip away had been frustrating. Now that I would reach the half way point of the race I began to question my ability to achieve a sub 24 hour finish for only the second time.
Maybe I just got lucky going sub 24 at the Autumn 100. Was that just a fluke? Maybe I was kidding myself that I could go faster still this time. I could only see myself slowing down further in the second 50 miles, so surely a PB was now out of the question.
Preparation
After my breakthrough 100 mile performance at the Autumn 100 I’d identified some key contributing factors to my success:
Working with my running coach Matt Bevan
Committing to and being consistent with the training
Maintaining a balanced diet and getting closer to race weight
Spot on race execution
Since then, I’d continued with the first two but well and truly self sabotaged with my diet (now carrying 1/2 – 3/4 stone more than at A100) and my race execution had been poor at the South Downs Way 50 in April (despite achieving a 50 mile PB).
However, I had managed to improve my mental strength and maintain a positive mindset. I didn’t give up when I saw my sub 10 hour goal slipping away and kept grinding, just sneaking under 10.5 hours at SDW50. This would prove to be a valuable experience in the second half of the Centaur.
Since SDW50 a key focus of my weekend long runs had been building my mental strength and ability to cope with the monotony of loop running. To this end, I’d spent several hours confusing local dog walkers and youth footballers practising on a local playing field.
Running around in circles Even more running around in circles
Then, just when I was feeling strong and positive, 4 weeks before race day my right achilles started grumbling. When the grumbling grew louder after a recovery run I listened. I spoke with Matt and we decided a few days rest and some stretches prescribed by a physio would be the best course of action.
A few days later I tried a bike ride and as this didn’t aggravate my achilles I focused on what I could do to maintain fitness. Even if that was cycling!
Managing the achilles issue
Thankfully, I was back running 8 days later. Matt adjusted the plan to reduce the training load as a precaution before we upped the mileage again for a week and then began a 2 week taper.
After being really nervous about the race the weekend before I had a chat with Matt a few days before the race and was buzzing. Having seen the pre-race briefing video shared by Rik Vercoe, the Race Director of Phoenix Running, earlier in the week I was excited about the route. There was actually some elevation and it wasn’t pancake flat, so at least three would be a little variety on each loop.
The pre-race briefing settled my nerves
Race day
My first Phoenix Running event and I love the low key nature before we start
It was fabulous to see Karen Webber (crew extraordinaire in my NDW100 redemption race during my 100 mile Grand Slam in 2019) and Matt Brown from Timing Monkey before the start. There would be a few more greetings exchanged as the race progressed!
The challenge with a looped course is that one mile blends into another. Unlike with point to point, or even out and back races like A100, there are few unique points of reference. Recalling the race a week later it’s become difficult to distinguish one loop from another, so I’ll focus my attention on how I felt, thought and acted throughout the race.
0-20 Miles
My plan for the race was to run for 25 minutes, power hike for 5 minutes, and repeat for as long as possible. As I ran slowly up the main incline in the course during the first lap I soon realised that my plan needed to be changed, and quickly.
I thought it’d be foolish to run the incline, as steadily rising as it was, for 99 more loops so I quickly adjusted my race strategy. I’d power hike this incline and run the rest at an easy pace, one that I’d dialled in during training. And so it continued throughout laps 2-20, albeit with one adjustment. I decided to power hike the short final stretch to the aid station at the end of each loop.
I resolved to do what I could to minimise any slowdown and was determined to keep running where in previous races I’d too easily listened to the voice in my head telling me to “just walk for a bit”.
I’d decided to run wearing my Salomon race vest and carrying two 500ml bottles from the start, along with some food/snacks that I’d been used to in training, with the view to minimising my need to use the aid station (and lose time) each lap. However, as the temperature and humidity rose I soon decided that a short refreshment stop every one/two loops would serve me well and help me to stay on top of my hydration.
Already finding it warm, 7 laps inA toasty 19 laps done and dreaming of anything ice cold
21-40 Miles
Struggling in the heat, and already having made a decision to dial back my effort to conserve energy for later in the day when it (hopefully) cooled down, I had promised myself a walking lap 21. Popping off the course to my car at the end of lap 20 I grabbed a pork pie and a handful of strawberries in a sandwich bag and strode on purposefully, eating as I walked.
As my stomach was feeling a little off already I figured that any time lost now by walking would be recouped later if I could avoid ongoing stomach issue later. This turned out to be a wise move, even if my legs protested when I started running again on lap 22!
Then, as if by magic, the ice lollies appeared. Runners passed by holding ice lollies and with big smiles telling us “They’ve got ice lollies at the aid station!” Boy oh boy, was that welcome. So much so that I asked for another one a couple of laps later, much to Karen’s amusement.
A very, very welcome ice lolly on lap 24
Paul Reader and Zoe Norman both came along to offer support and ended up running a lap with me, which was a real boost. Then Pete Hammond appeared too, which was another boost.
Happy to see another friendly face 📸 Paul Reader
I sent Matt an update. I was flagging but determined. I decided to treat myself to another walking and eating lap once I’d reached 40 loops.
Matt’s motivational reality checkStriking my best Alan Partridge “Ice lolly, I’ve got an ice lolly!” pose (my 2nd one!) 📸 Zoe Norman
Mile 41 – 50
This is where the doubts grew louder. I’d been doing mental maths for hours, trying to work out how long it would now take me to reach half way. And I didn’t like the numbers I was generating, or more accurately the way my pace had dropped from my target and how long it was taking me.
By now I was also starting to struggle to eat the top up pretzels (to help with my salt intake in the heat) and was having to force myself to eat. I knew that I had some treats waiting for me and vowed to get to 50 miles to earn them. It was raining lightly and getting cooler, so I needed to change into a warmer long sleeved top and I’d do that then.
I’ve never had custard during a 100 miler before but boy oh boy was I happy that I’d bought some just in case, along with the trusty rice pudding and M&S Iced N Spiced buns. After a quick change of tops I devoured two custard pots and immediately felt better. A bun was quickly eaten, Irn Bru added to the race vest along with more flapjack and snack bars and the ever reliable jelly snakes, and I was off on my 51st lap.
51 – 75 Miles
I immediately felt better. It’s amazing what a reset and something different to eat can do for your state of mind. And some tunes.
I’d promised myself that once I got to halfway I’d get the earphones out and start listening to some music. Out came the earphones, on went the mix of 80s, 90s and 00s, and occasionally I broke into song. Life was good. Hurty but good.
Counting down the loops helped psychologically, especially once darkness finally descended and the head torch came out at the same time as the waterproof jacket.
Looking tired but forcing a smile for the camera 📸 Karen Webber
Given that this would be only my third 100 miler without the aid of a pacer in the second half (2015 SDW100, my first 100, and 2017 NDW100, my first DNF) managing my own effort would be crucial. I couldn’t reply on someone else to tell me when to run and just do as I was asked (swearing at them internally). It was all on me this time.
Embracing my inner mile 60-75 demons, standard demeanour according to KW 📸 Karen Webber
As if running through the night like a sleep deprived zombie wasn’t enough “fun” for a 100 miler the weather gods arranged for a couple of hours of thunder and lightning very nearby to accompany us. Well it definitely kept me alert!
In previous races I’ve slowed down during the night section as mental and physical fatigue sets in. This time around I truly embraced Gary Robbins’ mantra by telling myself to “Don’t think, just do” when it became time to run again at the same point in each lap. My feet were sore but not blistered, my legs were sore but still worked, and my mind was tired but focused on maintaining movement one lap at a time.
Yes, I wanted to stop running many, many times but I wanted to keep going until I had nothing left more. At least this time, this race, I did.
I kept the calories coming in, little and often, mainly flapjack and jelly snakes by now. The lovely Fiona McNelis, who I met volunteering at the Thames Meander Marathon in 2014, was working the aid station overnight and kept reminding me to eat. The Irn Bru was, as usual, going down a great and helping to her more calories in. Best of all, I felt strong on each lap and by counting down the laps was able tell myself that I “only” had to run this part of the loop another 30, 29, 28, … times. Still a lot, but way better than 70 to go!
And then, with 75 miles completed, there was rice pudding! Oh yes. Food of the gods. Topped up with more jelly snakes, bars and flapjacks and another bottle of Irn Bru, I set off for the final 25 laps.
76 – 100 Miles
And the loops continued. The hiking and running continued in the same parts of the loop as before, and before, and before. I was finding the monotony strangely comforting. The tunes were also helping to distract me from the distance still to go and make me want to move, which is always helpful in the latter stages of a 100 miler.
As I reached the top of the long incline and broke into a run on the downhill stretch for the 76th time I told myself “You only gave to run this bit 24 more times” and “It’s less than 3/4 mile, you can do that”. 23 to go . 22 to go. Oh look, the sun’s starting to make an appearance. 21 to go, 20, 19, … And so it continued.
14 laps to go and focused on finishing in under 24 hours if I could
I can’t begin to explain the feeling when I realised I had single figures of loops left to run. I’d kept recalculating my likely finish time, focusing on proving that the sub 24 hour finish at A100 wasn’t a fluke and getting another one here. The prospect of a new PB had long since left my mind as I was convinced that ship had sailed.
Smelling the finish with 6 laps to go
Then I checked my phone for the final time.
Coach knows best and restored my hope of a new PB with this message
Could I sneak under 23h36m and get a new PB? Really? My tired brain did the mental maths again and I realised that unless I dropped to a walk it was on the cards. In fact, if I kept running as I had been I was likely to beat my current PB by a few minutes.
And if I pushed my pace I could make the gap even larger. After being certain that a PB had slipped from my grasp in the first 50 miles I’d managed to claw back some time and if I missed out on a PB now I’d be kicking myself.
So I pushed on like a man possessed.
Another surprise visitor raised a smile on lap 95 📸 Brendan Turner
Somehow I ran miles 94 – 98 progressively faster. I think Matt was a little excited!
Coaching motivation right there
And then I was running loop 100. I was going to do it. A PB was waiting for me. I pushed and ran as quickly as I could.
As I crossed the timing may for the final time I shouted “Yes!”, stopped my watch (obvs 😂) and turned to Karen to check my time.
23:24:01
A PB by over 12 minutes.
On Father’s Day, and with my late Father for company all the way.
Thanks for keeping me company Dad. We miss you x
I was elated.
Takeaways
I ran a negative split. In a 100 mile race. I’d never have thought that possible. Yet I did it.
Before the race I wasn’t confident of achieving a new PB. I was too heavy. I’d sabotaged myself by not getting serious about my diet.
During the race I had struggled with the heat and my confidence took a knock. I couldn’t see how I could maintain let alone increase my overall pace to claw back lost time.
I never gave up or lost hope though. By focusing on the mile I was in, clichéd as it may be, I kept moving forward and slowly gained momentum. And in 100 milers momentum matters a lot.
“Most of the important things in the world have been accomplished by people who have kept on trying when there seemed to be no hope at all.” – Dale Carnegie
I remembered to:
👉 Focus on what I can control 👉 Break it down into small steps 👉 Take one step and then another
So I did exactly that
🏃♂️ I managed to keep moving 🏃♂️ Maintain a steady pace on tired legs 🏃♂️ Chip away at the remaining 50 miles
And ran miles 51-100 faster than miles 0-50
Through resetting, refocusing and consistent action:
🎯 I ran a negative split 🎯 I ended up running a new PB 🎯 I got my first top ten finish
As I finally reached the point where the Ridgeway descends to the road I breathed a sigh of relief. The seemingly endless uphill climbs on the outbound leg had been followed by climbs that went on and on as I made my way back to Goring. With over 70 miles in my legs already, I was looking forward to a decent downhill stretch to make up some time and get moving.
Fate had other ideas. After feeling queasy for the last mile or so I’d stuck to a fast hike in the hope it’d settle my stomach, which wasn’t welcoming anything I tried to eat right now. Even Percy Pigs fell short. I soon found myself standing at the side of the trail retching and wondering if I’d be able to move quickly enough to stay on plan.
Was my sub 24 hour 100 mile finish disappearing before my eyes?
Post-TP100 Momentum
After my DNF at the Thames Path 100 in May I took a couple of weeks off running to recover. Then began the 20 weeks of training with my running coach Matt Bevan, who I’ve known for some years now and have always respected as a runner.
From day one I took my nutrition and diet seriously for the first time and as the weeks passed I noticed my body toning up (a bit, anyway, I’m no He-Man that’s for sure!).
I focused on getting more sleep.
Week 1 saw a few short and easy paced runs as base building began but the hard work would soon kick in. I executed every session that Matt set, including the dreaded strength and conditioning workouts, from day one of week one right up until late August.
My fitness improved, I was feeling stronger every week and my Strava fitness graph looked ace – just like leg 3 on the Ridgeway, it kept on going up!
And when I set a new 10k PB on a time trial run I was delighted.
With just under 2 months to go, I felt confident that I’d be in good shape to go sub 24 in October.
Perspective
And then, in late August, my world fell apart.
My wife Beth, son Andrew and I had enjoyed a week off together including some time staying in Marlow (and seeing the Thames Path without my running shoes on for once) and I returned to work on the Monday.
At Wednesday lunchtime, after experiencing abdominal pains for almost 2 days and calls to 111, a paramedic visit, 111 callbacks, a GP home visit and a night in A&E, Beth video called us. She’s just been told that she had to have emergency surgery to fix a twisted colon.
Thankfully, the surgeon called later that afternoon to let me know that the surgery had gone as well as they could have hoped. Beth would face a 7-10 day recovery in hospital though.
While she was in hospital I struggled with anxiety about my wife’s health . Matt was superb, adapting my plan and reassuring me that all would be okay and all I needed to do was keep my legs ticking over. He emphasised that I wasn’t to stress about it and to do the sessions I felt I could.
Was it selfish to continue training while my wife lay in a hospital bed recovering from major surgery?
What did achieving a sub 24 hour finish matter now?
It’s only jogging after all, as Mark Thornberry used to say. The race didn’t matter. It would be there next year. I’d give anything to have the one I love back home and in good health.
Many thoughts filled my head but what I knew most of all was that in times of difficulty running has, and continues to be, my saviour.
Through the death of my Dad in 2017 to redundancy in 2017 and 2020, going for a run keeps me grounded and provides an opportunity to get out of my own head for a few previous minutes or hours.
And then Beth sent me a message that showed me just how much she understands this:
“I saw you went for run this morning. Has all this messed up your training? X”
I told her not to worry. In reality, I didn’t know if I’d be able to keep training or how Beth’s recovery would progress. The most important thing was for her to get better and to have her back home where she belongs. And 10 days after her operation that’s exactly where she was, continuing her recovery and needing my support now more than ever.
At this point I’d spoken with a GP, been diagnosed with acute anxiety, and been signed off work for another week. Reflecting upon the last couple of weeks of turmoil I thought about the struggles I’ve experienced during previous races and gained a new perspective.
Pre-race perspective
The last few weeks of training
As Beth was still in the early days of recovery back home and low on energy I informed the Race Directors that I wouldn’t be running the White Horse 50k as I needed to be at home to look after her. This event was planned as an opportunity to test my race strategy and get a long run in, perfectly scheduled a month before the Autumn 100.
Still, as ultra runner and coach Jason Koop often reminds us, it’s the totality of training that matters and not any one workout or session. Despite a bump in the road over the past few weeks my training as a whole had gone really well, so missing this race wouldn’t be make or break.
And so it proved.
Somehow, I set a new 10 mile PB on an early morning run before work the following week!
And then… manflu struck! Bugger.
I managed to keep running well initially but when it went to my chest I opted for the safe option and rested for a few days. One negative Covid test later, I was set to get back to running for the last 3 weeks. 2 of these were taper, with reduced volume.
Oh well. At this stage before a race there is no fitness to be gained but rash decisions or overdoing it can lead you to be the architect of your own downfall. So I got back to training, did exactly what Matt prescribed (okay, I missed the last few S&C sessions after Beth got sick) and let taper work it’s magic.
It doesn’t matter how often I race, I always feel like I’m slower, heavier, and sluggish during the taper runs. This time even more so. For the first time before a 100 mile race, I actually ran 3 times in the last week, including some strides and a run the day before race day. All of these were at a very easy pace but I’d never have contemplated running in the 5 days before the race before for fear of fatiguing my legs. However, I’d hired Matt to coach me and trusted him all the way, so run these sessions I did.
The weekend before the race I felt very nervous. Taking to my friend Simon Welch, who was also running Autumn 100, it dawned on me that my previous two finishes were playing on my mind. Would I struggle like I had then, particularly on leg 2, this time as well? Was I ready?
Then a switch flicked in my mind. I was better prepared, fitter and stronger than I had ever been before for a race. Especially for running 100 miles. And I relaxed. In fact, as the days counted down to race day I got ever more excited. I was absolutely buzzing. Destiny was calling.
Race day arrives
I was fortunate to have my friend Paul Pickford giving me a lift to and back from the race, so didn’t have to worry about logistics of getting to the start in Goring and Streatley. Paul would go on to pace Simon on leg 4 as he set a new PB at 100 miles by over 2 hours and secure his second 100 miles one day buckle. Fantastic running.
Race registration completed, it was good to catch up with Stewart Liesnham, Stuart McLaughlin, Zoe Norman, Steve Rooke, and others. Then it was a short walk to the start at Streatley, a rolling start from 8:30-9:00 rather than a mass start. This actually suited me this time, with no temptation to follow the hoard and run too quickly from the start.
Race number on, ready to go
Leg 1 – Flat As A Pancake
No, I wasn’t feeling flat, I was feeling good. Matt had shared his race plan with me and we’d agreed a strategy. Rather than set a target pace from the start, I was to get each leg completed and be ready to start the next within certain times.
Target: 5h15m
“It’s flat and it’s relatively easy. And you’re gonna be excited. So, hold back, hold back, and if you’re holding back hold back a little bit more.”
As I set off on leg 1 these words of advice from Matt Bevan were at front of mind. I’ve trained by perceived effort rather than pace or heart rate for the last couple of years and during my training felt I had dialled in the feeling of easy paced so trustee myself as I ran the first few miles. The mile markers ticking over on my watch flashed up pace alerts and I used these as cues to reign it back a little when needed.
For the first time at a Centurion race, I ran past the first aid station rather than lose any time. After all, I had enough food to last me the whole leg if needed and wouldn’t need a fluid top up until the half way, turnaround aid station. I felt like a serious runner! A shout of “Good luck Graham” from Race Director James Eldon, who knew my goal for the race, was much appreciated and greeted with a wave.
All smiles at Benson, photo credit Stuart March
Despite my best efforts to maintain an easy effort I reached half way in 2h5m. I was on track for a 4h30m (or less) first leg. I thought about this briefly.
Maybe it feels easy because it is and I’m capable of going comfortably under 24 hours?
Maybe I should keep going and see?
Maybe.
However, I had a plan and knew that if I kept my effort easy in the first half of the race I’d be better prepared for the second half, especially the seemingly endless climbing on leg 3, so I reigned it in.
On my way back to Goring, photo credit Stuart March
On the return leg I decided to power walk for a few minutes every so often to preserve my energy while staying on plan. Doing this led me back to Goring village and back out on leg 2 after 4h36m. I was more than 30 minutes ahead of plan and feeling good.
Getting ready to head out on leg 2, photo credit Zoe NormanCoach approved of my race strategy execution at mile 25
Leg 2 – Grims Ditch Ain’t So Grim Really
Ahead of plan, I headed out on leg 2. I’d been dreading this leg as this was where I’d really struggled in my previous two races here.
Target: 11h00m
Head in the game, I power walked the first few minutes as I ate some food from the aid station. I knew that some flat, runnable trails awaited between here and beyond North Stoke before the rolling single track and the climb up through Grims Ditch and was looking forward to some uphill hiking to provide some variation for the legs.
Time to focus. By this stage, the fatigue was starting to show in my legs but I knew from training runs that I could keep running for longer than my mind might tell me.
Bloody minds, trying to trick us into stopping for “just a little walk” or to avoid breaking back into a run after some power hiking on uphills because you can “walk just a little longer”.
Sod that. I’d given in to these mind tricks too many times before and I had to get my arse back to Goring and the half way point on target. Walking too much wasn’t going to get me there and would sabotage my efforts in the second half of the race.
So, despite feeling tired, I ran the single track before Grims Ditch and then powered up through the trees. One of my strengths is my ability to hike uphill and I soon got into the zone, before running across the golf course and then heading through the photogenic dip before you get to the turnaround aid station at Swyncombe.
At this point it dawned upon me how different my running was to the previous races. I’d never arrived in time to be photographed by Stuart March as I ran this dip but here I was, making good time and having photo opportunities on the way to and back from Swyncombe. That was a confidence boost, and Stuart captured me doing the aeroplane perfectly!
Who can resist the aeroplane on a downhill? Photo credit Stuart March
Feeling buoyed by this experience, and the childlike thrill of doing the aeroplane (which always makes me smile), I made my way back through the golf course and was looking forward to enjoying Grims Ditch on the way down. Which I did, especially as it was the first time I’d run it without needing to put my headtorch on.
I got to North Stoke without needing a headtorch and only needed to put it on for the last couple of miles back to Goring. As I approached the half way point I knew that I was still on track for a sub 24 hour finish, and a few minutes ahead of schedule.
Matt approved, and so would Goggins!
I reached Goring in 10h31m (a 30min plus PB at the distance) and was disciplined in getting in and out quickly. Okay, not super quickly (15 minutes rather than the 10 minutes planned) but I changed tops and socks, refuelled with rice pudding, grabbed some more food, and left the aid station loaded up with an espresso coffee in a can, some Irn Bru, an iced n spiced bun, and some different food for leg 3. I set off at a power hike, cup of chicken soup in hand, with a few minutes still I hand on my target.
Leg 3 – The One That’s Up On The Way Out And Up On The Way Back
Target: 17h15m
Interesting. I knew leg 3 could make or break any sub 24 hour attempt as it’s easy to walk too much. The uphill climbs seem to go on and on, so when the trail levels off or starts gong downhill it’s easy to get into the habit of continuing to hike. On my previous races here, in 2016 and 2019, pacers had been allowed for this leg and I’d had company to keep me focused and on track. This time it was all on me to deliver.
And so, iced n spiced bun and coffee consumed, I set off running the downhills before power hiking up to the aid station at East Isley. Minimising faffing while removing stones from my running shoes, I got in and out of the aid station as soon as possible and began the long drag up to the turnaround point at Chain Hill.
During this stretch I became concerned that I was losing time. Despite some downhills to “enjoy” there was a lot of power hiking on this outbound leg, so I set about maintaining as strong a pace as I could. I was bloody determined to get in and out of Chain Hill quickly, which I did, and then realised that there would be opportunities to make up time on the downhill into Goring at the very least.
At this point, with 67 miles in my legs, I put on my earphones and listened to some music for the first time all race. I figured that some Craig Charles House Party tunes would distract me from the ongoing fatigue and keep me going for longer on the runnable stretches. Along with reminding myself of what I needed to think about if I felt like complaining. Perspective. And it worked.
Until the bit where this blog post began, that is.
Nausea.
I tried to break into a run but felt nauseous so decided to power hike the last 3 miles back to Goring. As I did some mental maths, always tricky in the latter stages of a 100 miler, I figured that I’d make it back to mile 75 in around 17h30m. That would be 15 minutes behind plan, but I thought I’d just about be able to make it sub 24 with just under 6h30m to do it and Matt kicking my arse (as requested) as my pacer.
I got back to Goring in 17h10m.
Still on track and with Matt ready to support, coach and cajole me through the last 25 miles.
Leg 4 – Exactly How Far Is Reading By The Way?!
More soup in hand, I set off with Matt on the final leg. It was still on. I’d given myself a shot at this.
Now all I had to do was deal with this nausea, ensure that I did some running, and maintain a solid pace when power hiking – a sub 24 hour finish was in sight.
I felt better after drinking the soup. Less so as we ground out a rare climb on this leg of the race, heading up above the river towards Whitchurch. Having Matt for company really helped at this stage of the race, and being able to trust your pacer to keep score in terms of timings and pace required to hit your goal as well as ensure you follow the correct route is so valuable.
Whenever Matt asked if I could break into a “little run”, I said “okay” and we trotted on. Through Whitchurch and on through Pangbourne Meadows we ground out a prolonged period of running that served to represent how my running has improved. Where I’d previously have dropped to a walk for a bit of respite I kept going and going, despite the fatigue and my mind urging me to stop.
Matt knew exactly when to slow down the pace because I was pushing just a little too hard.
And then I had to stop, step to the side of the trail, and retch. Nice. Matt captured my joy at the onset of sickness – mischievous pacers!
Coach/pacer empathy writ large – photo credit Matt Bevan
At this point I turned to Matt and told him that I didn’t think I could run as I felt sick when I did. I could maintain a solid power hike though, so he agreed that we should grind out the remaining 6 miles or so to the turnaround point at Reading and regroup there. And so we did.
Miles to aid station: loads! Photo credit Matt Bevan
“Just sit down for 5 minutes and reset. Then we’ll think about what you might be able to eat and what we need to do on the return leg to get you back on time.” Matt’s calmness was exactly what I needed. A few crisps later, which seemed to help, we left the aid station and began the return leg.
Matt calculated that to get in under 24 hours we’d need to average 15 minute miles. Continuing to power hike alone would mean that we’d be cutting it very close, so he told me we’d go back to a run walk strategy.
“I’ll do whatever we need to do Matt. I don’t want to miss it by a minute. Just get me there in time.”
And so our run walk resumed.
Being able to switch off and just follow your pacer’s instructions is such a benefit. Inside I may have been thinking “How much longer do I have to run for?” and “That’s more than 3 minutes Matt, I know what you’re up to!” but I just kept going.
We made the most of the downhills through the housing estate and continued to run/hike the flats. Oh, and just how long is Pangbourne Meadows?! It seems to go on and on and on, only the early morning fog meant that I couldn’t actually tell!
And then we reached the penultimate aid station at Pangbourne. A quick fluid top up and a handful of wine gums to keep me going later, we were making our way back to Goring. Just under 5 miles to go and I had to average 16.5 minute miles (I think) to get in under 24 hours.
Determined to avoid the stress of a “to the wire” finish I urged Matt to keep the run/walk strategy going. Up the hill through Whitchurch we hiked, while I tried not to choke on wine gums, and then we made our way to the woods at the top of the river. At the end of a run phase Matt turned and to tell me we could stop running now, unless I wanted to keep going.
“Let’s go”, I said. I wanted to get some time in the bank and build a buffer. 3 miles to go now….
Running through the woods above the River Thames, the sun now up and headtorch away, was ace. Checking my watch I realised that 20 minute miles would be enough to hit my time goal.
Matt Bevan had time to post an Instagram story as we descended the woods above the river
This was no time for complacency though. I wanted to keep pushing, so we maintained our run/walk until we descended to the river bank and the last mile or so.
The smile began to form. I felt immense relief as it became clear that sub 24 was mine for the taking. Almost there now.
That’s when we spotted a guy with a camera on a gimble start running behind us. Despite telling him we weren’t very photogenic, I made the cut and feature on the last 30 seconds of the official race video!
Famous at last! Video via Steve Ashworth Media and Centurion Running
The Finish
As I turned the corner by the bridge and ran the final metres to the finish I was absolutely delighted. I was going to finish a 100 mile race within 24 hours, and with time to spare. I’d worked towards this for the last 5 months. The DNF at TP100 was a stepping stone to this, my best race performance to date. The stress and challenges of the last couple of months hasn’t stopped me from delivering.
I crossed the finish line in a time of 23 hours 36 minutes and 43 seconds.
Yes, me!
Approaching the finish – photo credit Zoe NormanThank you for capturing a magic moment Paul PickfordJob done – photo credit Stuart MarchMatt Bevan, super coach, and his sub 24 hour 100 mile finisher client and friend – photo credit Stuart MarchEmotions were running high at the finish, can’t thank Matt Bevan enough for the journey and the outcome – photo credit Zoe NormanMany months, many runs, and many sacrifices helped me to get my hands on my first sub 24 hour 100 mile buckle
Post-race Reflections
How did I achieve my goal?
1. I invested in myself and hired a running coach for the first time
Choosing Matt Bevan was the easy bit. Handing control of my training over to Matt meant trusting him. Being confident that the sessions he planned would build my fitness, endurance and speed. And, most of all, my mental strength to dig in for longer when things got tough on race day. 20 weeks later, boy oh boy did Matt deliver on this. I achieved the goal I’ve been working towards for the last 12 months and have my hands on a 100 miles one day buckle on my 7th 100 mile finish. My confidence in what I’m capable of has grown so much.
2. I committed to the training and was mega consistent
Over the last 2 years I’ve run more miles and more regularly than ever before. I used to think that my body could only cope with 50-60 miles per week at peak, with the sweet spot of 30-40 miles per week. Over the last 12 months I’ve run two 100 mile weeks and many 60+ mile weeks. Adding a weekly strength and conditioning workout, and looking after myself with regular sports massages from Jamie Gargett at JG Sports Massage between TP100 and A100 helped keep me in good shape and injury free. Most of all, I executed the sessions whether I felt like it or not, which definitely helped to boost my mental strength.
3. I finally committed to maintaining a balanced diet and trying to get closer to race weight
I have a very sweet tooth. Like many runners, I’ve often been guilty of justifying the consumption of sweets, chocolate, cake, and more by the “miles I’m running”. That’s despite the fact that I was sabotaging potential performance gains by carrying a few extra pounds around my middle. From the outset of training with Matt, I thought carefully about what I was eating and particularly on avoiding mindless eating. I still drank the occasional IPA or stout and had the occasional piece of cake or chocolate bar. What I stopped doing was consuming multipacks of chocolate or big bags of Haribo. And I could feel the difference it made to my running, both in training and during the race.
4. My race execution was spot on
Matt gave me goal times for each leg. I was disciplined enough to reign myself in when I was overenthusiastic and going too quickly while also pushing myself to keep running for longer when I was hurting. My aid station stops were also much more efficient than before. I got myself to 75 miles bang on target and dug deep to get the final leg done well within time, despite suffering from nausea and vomitting for the first time in a race.
What now?
For now, I’m enjoying recovery and still marvelling at the fact that my legs are in the best post-100 mile race shape ever. My mobility the day after the race was so, so much better than ever before after a 100 miler. The training paid off.
There are other races waiting, more running adventures to be enjoyed, more miles to run. I’ll decide on my next target soon enough.
At the moment, I’m still smiling about the fact that I set myself a big goal (a new 100 mile PB by more than 2 hours, new course PB by more than 3 hours) and achieved it.
I trusted the process, committed to it, enjoyed the journey, and am so proud of the outcome I achieved.
As I strode purposefully alongside the River Thames, with 1980s Depeche Mode synth classics as audio accompaniment, I spotted the group of a dozen cows up ahead. Among them was a bull getting frisky and their pace suddenly increased as they veered to their left. They were now heading straight towards me and breaking into a trot.
With over 45 miles already in my legs I was tired and really didn’t want to move aside but my dislike for cows and self preservation kicked in. As my heart rate increased I succumbed to the flight response as there’d only be one winner if I stood my ground.
I stepped aside and continued making my way to the next aid station, looking back to check that the bovine bullies hadn’t changed their mind and made an about turn to head in my direction.
#cowsareevil
Many miles later, I walked through the entrance to the village hall at Goring at around 3am on Sunday morning. I felt the tension ease, my shoulders relax, and my soul at peace.
I had a 2 hour buffer against the cut off and time to continue on towards the finish at Oxford 30 miles away that I’d been making my way towards since I left Richmond at 8:30am on Saturday.
However, my race was over. I handed over my number to the aid station captain, signalling my retirement from the race and only my second ever DNF (Did Not Finish).
Despite coming into this race with the most consistent training I’d ever done over the last 12 months and being fit enough to set a new 100 mile PB after 6 previous finishes, it didn’t go well.
And I knew stopping then was the right thing to do.
Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall
Confucius
Rewind
I completed my first Thames Path 100 in May 2019 to kick off my ultimately successful Grand Slam attempt. I’d set a new 100 mile PB in the process, having followed a run/walk race strategy for the first half and been guided with skill, encouragement and some choice language by multiple Grand Slam finisher Tracey “Superwoman” Watson.
And I swore never to do this race again.
Post-race thoughts from 2019 – never say never, I should know that by now!
Cue much laughter from Centurion Running race Mum Nici Griffin, who’d heard it all before and welcomed many other runners back to a future edition of the race.
I volunteered at the Thames Path 100, North Downs Way 100 and Autumn 100 races once again in 2020 to give something back to the community after all of the support I’d had during my Grand Slam journey the previous year. This meant that I had a free place for this year’s races if I wanted to run them and I’d already set my sights on a sub-24 hour finish at the A100 as my A goal for 2021.
I had no intention of running TP100 this year but had registered just in case I changed my mind. And given a really consistent year of running despite no “real” races to train for I started to wonder what I might be capable of.
Maybe, just maybe, I could break the 24 hour barrier? Surely I could knock at least an hour off of my current PB of 25:59:53?
There was only one way to find out.
Pinning on a race number once more after the lockdowns of the past year felt great
So what happened?
In the lead up to race day my running buddy Simon Welch, who was about to begin his own Grand Slam journey, discussed our plans. Maybe we could run it together?
We’d always agreed that making a pact to stay together was a terrible idea as there would inevitably be times when one of us felt amazing and wanted to push on while the other was struggling and hanging in there, and vice versa.
During the journey up to the start line at Richmond, as we watched the rain continue to fall as it had been forecast to do for the first few hours, we agreed to start together and see how it went with the mutual understanding that if one of us was flying they would crack on alone.
Centurion Running continue to set the standard for ultra distance events and the organisation, from start to finish, was excellent. Putting on events in a Covid compliant manner has meant many changes, including staggered starts.
As we crossed the start line with barely a runner in sight, Simon and I turned to each other and commented on how strange it was without a mass start. Yet it was also refreshing, making it easier to set off at your own pace without being pulled along by the crowd and upping the pace to satisfy your ego.
Kit, nutrition and hydration
I’d started the race wearing two t-shirts and arm sleeves underneath my waterproof jacket and remained warm throughout the first few miles. Before long the rain had eased and jackets were removed to avoid overheating, then replaced as the rain became more persistent. By the first aid station 10 miles my jacket was off again and it would remain in my race vest thereafter.
My kit choices worked perfectly, from having just enough but not too much in the dry bag (emergency kit, an additional layer, and an “Oh s**t kit) to the change of socks and new layers for the night section at halfway, to the Rockstar Sport running shorts that dried out quickly once the rain stopped, to the Brooks Divide trail shoes. I ended the race with zero chafing and only a couple of very small blisters.
Time is easily wasted at aid stations so I made a conscious effort to get in and out quickly. I did this throughout the race, only spending longer than a couple of minutes at the half way point in Henley.
Pre-race delivery from 33Fuel – tried and tested products that work for me
I also made a point to eat and drink early and often as in previous races I’ve struggled for energy due to falling behind with nutrition and hydration early on. With this in mind, I’d started with a lot of food so that I’d only need to top up at the aid stations:
4 x 33Fuel chia gels
2 x 33Fuel Amore energy bars
4 x Babybel cheeses
2 x Tunnocks caramel wafers
1 x ALDI TRU salted caramel bar
1 x soft flask with 33Fuel Better Fuel energy blend drink mix
1 x additional portion of Better Fuel for topping up later
I avoided jumping aboard the sugar train until later, saving my first drinking Coke until mile 30. Aid station top ups grabbed included jam sandwiches, fruit, chocolate, cake bars and wine gums, and this worked really well all race.
Pacing
Simon and I ran to feel from the start. I had decided to avoid looking at my watch either to check my pace or the time unless I wanted to see how far the next aid station was or how long I had until the cut off.
We ran and chatted about life and running, as we have in the many hours we’ve spent together on the trails over the years, and stopped to walk and eat from time to time. Before long we’d covered 25 miles and were pleasantly surprised by the progress we were making.
Frustratingly, my right quad had started to trouble me from about 10 miles in. It wasn’t debilitating but was causing me some discomfort, which later spread to my right groin.
Stopping to remove stones from my shoes a couple of times almost led to some cramping. That came later.
Familiar faces
Approaching the bridge after Hampton Court I spotted Dave, the driver of the sweeper bus that I’d once been a passenger in (after my NDW100 DNF) and vowed not to see him later. Little did I know what lay ahead …
Stuart March soon appeared, taking photos and exchanging smiles and good wishes here and later on at Cookham. And there were many others along the way, including Mark Fox at Richmond, Paul McLeery at Dorney (mile 31), and Paul Gilbertson, Chloe Sellwood, Julian Desai, Louise Ayling and Alma Boates at Henley (mile 51). And a surprise appearance outside Tilehurst train station by Drew Sheffield was most welcome.
Never underestimate the lift that runners get from words of encouragement, a smile, and familiar faces along the way. I always do my best to make all of the runners feel welcome and to help them along the way when I volunteer and you all did the same for me this time, so thank you.
When the wheels came off
Once the race fades into memories, our minds tend to forget the reality of running 100 mile races: they are brutal. They hurt. A lot. Whether you are a completer or competing for the podium, nobody has an easy race.
Despite my training, when I’d deliberately chosen to do some sessions which would challenge me mentally to increase my mental strength, I had forgotten how tough this distance feels to run.
When my left calf went into a full on cramp as I stopped to get another stone out of my shoe just after Dorney I was frustrated, and in pain, but massages the calf enough to get going again. However, in the miles that followed the discomfort that I’d begun to experience in my left shin while running began to get worse.
Arriving at Dorney aid station Photo: Paul McCleery
I really began to question my life choices as I ran on, reverting mainly to a purposeful hike to avoid overloading my shin. Feeling like my race was in jeopardy, I did something I’ve never done before during a race.
It was time to phone a friend
Simon had gone on ahead a few miles back as he was feeling strong, so I called him. No reply. I called Paul Pickford, local legend and one of the most humble and thoughtful people I have the privilege to know and call a friend. No response. I called Matt Bevan, who’s agreed to coach me for the Autumn 100. No reply.
I was on my own.
Let’s face it, whether we run with others or alone, we always go into battle with ourselves in these races. Remaining calm in the face of adversity makes a huge difference. As I marched on I began to curb the inner dialogue telling me “My race is over” and “I can’t do this” and told myself “Come on G, you can do this. Just keep moving.”
Then Paul called back. And Simon, who was a couple of miles ahead of me and continuing with the run/walk strategy. And then Matt messaged me. A few pep talks later, I continued on my way.
I’ve never felt the need to listen to music during an ultra marathon before but this time I’d welcome the distraction. My head was still not right and I was battling negative thoughts. It was time for some classic Simple Minds with a view to getting me pumped up to do some running again.
If this won’t get me running there’s no hope!
After a few more minutes of feeling sorry for myself I decided to play a game. What if I kept running for two songs and then allowed myself a fast walking break for the next one before repeating the process? This could be a way to eat away at the miles again and make good progress.
I gave it a go and it worked, for a while at least. Then I felt the shin pain again and dropped back to hiking with renewed purpose. It felt like I was moving almost as fast as when I broke into a run and my shin wasn’t hurting when I walked, so I continued on.
Then I swapped to Kylie and came back to life 😍 Somehow the golden goddess got me moving again, mixing running and walking. My shin pain subsided but didn’t disappear completely so I continued my 2:1 strategy and may have even broken into song a few times along the way – apologies to anyone who overheard my out of tune warblings!
How can you not smile when Kylie is singing to you 😍
As I headed through Maidenhead I started to get concerned about my shin and potentially causing long term damage by continuing to run on it. A few minutes later, as a headwind hit me as I was running through a meadow, I gave in and walked. And then I walked some more.
At Maidenhead – 36 miles in and already hiking more than running
I kept wondering what would happen if I started running again. Maybe my shin would be okay? Sometimes we get niggles during races and a few miles later we’re running as if nothing has ever happened. Was my mind playing tricks on me?
I had to make a call. Rightly or wrongly, I decided to focus on hiking. Not dawdling as a walk, as I have done in previous races, but really moving.
Thankfully, during my short time being coached by Tom Garrod he’d got me doing some sessions where I practiced fast walking and I’d managed to average just over 13 minute miles for these hour long workouts. Surely I could maintain this for a fair few miles, maybe until my shins settled down?
Screw it. I wasn’t done yet. I was getting this done, even if I had to hike all the way to Oxford. With renewed sense of purpose and determination I marched on and on and on, all the way to Henley. Matt messaged, commenting that I was “shifting”. Was I somehow getting back on track?
Voice messages from Sarah Cameron and Tom Garrod lifted my spirits and made me reflect on my experience respectively, as Matt continued to send encouraging messages.
I did some mental maths. Two years ago I reached Henley after 11h30m and went on to finish in (just) under 26 hours. Somehow I was still on track to reach Henley around the same time, and I knew I’d be more efficient in getting in and out of the aid station this time around. The body may be weak but my mind me is strong. It’s on, I told myself. And then came the cows.
Simon and I kept in touch over the next few hours. As I made my way towards Henley he told me that he’d been struggling with nausea and GI issues for several miles and was unable to keep anything down. He was about 6 miles ahead of me and had slowed to a walk as he attempted to grind it out. After sending positive vibes his way, I focused on maintaining my fast walking pace and arrived at Henley in just over 11h30m.
The relief of arriving at the halfway point – I almost broke into a smile!
Halfway there
The half way point of a 100 mile race always feels symbolic. You’ve broken the back of the distance but have to do it all again. And you’re tired, darkness is approaching, and everything hurts.
That’s why I’d spent time carefully curating the contents of my half way drop bag in the week before race day. I chose well. After topping up my water bottles, one with 33Fuel Energy Blend once, I sat down and quickly demolished a tomato cup-a-soup, two small rice pudding pots, and one M_S iced n spiced bun (Zoe Norman, you’re a star). All good so far.
Once I managed to change my socks without cramping I changed into my night time layers – a Craft baselayer, Ronhill fleece and a bright orange Decathlon top, all long sleeved, and swapped my cap for a warmer beanie. Headtorch out and ready, gloves in the pack in case they were needed (they weren’t), and food supplies topped up I thanked the volunteers and headed out with every intention of marching it out to Oxford. I had spent 20 minutes at the aid station compare to 45 last time.
I was damned if this race was going to beat me.
On a mission after leaving Henley aid station, aided by some classic Paul Weller
Darkness descends
Crossing the weir just after Henley in daylight was a new experience. Focused and feeling better for a change of clothing and some different food, I found myself striding positively alongside the Thames.
I never call my wife during a race but felt like I wanted to speak with her, to hear her voice. Beth was surprised and asked if I was okay. I reassured her, told her I was frustrated but was going to get it done. I still had a two hour buffer on the cut off and was moving well, although no longer running. I also called my Mum to tell her the same, having received a couple of messages from her as well as encouraging comments on my Facebook posts.
What else would you do at 10pm but crack open a Starbucks double espresso on a can! I saw Dave Stuart drink one of these at half way during TP100 last year and thought I’d give it a go, having tried one after a long run around the South Downs with Simon a couple of months ago. It was tasty and quickly downed. I knew I was taking a risk that it might come back up, along with the rice pudding, but my stomach held fast. Re-energised, I pushed on and soon turned on my head torch as the daylight faded.
It can get very, very cold down by the river overnight and it was in 2019. With 3 layers on I was toasty warm this time around, with no need for a jacket and both zips undone. A few minutes later, Ilsuk Han passed me in Shiplake and shared some kind words with me. I was delighted to see that he went on to finish as he’d DNFd two years ago, ending his Grand Slam dream. Redemption feels good.
On and on and on the fields and meadows went. Miles and miles of marching, accompanied by the Rich Roll podcast. I wasn’t taking in much of the discussions but the sound of voices was soothing and helped to distract me from the monotony and drudgery of hiking alone in the darkness. At least I couldn’t see how far I had to go! Pete Hammond appeared from ahead as he made his way back to Henley to sweep this leg band it was great to see a friendly face – even if I did almost blind him with my headtorch in the process. Sorry Pete!
Onwards
After navigating through Reading and a brief aid station stop it was on to Pangbourne. Boy oh boy, this 7 mile stretch went on forever. My mood was dropping now, even if my pace wasn’t. I’d continued walking at a decent pace and remained two hours ahead of the cut off as I approached Pangbourne.
As the lights in the distance slowly, ever so slowly, drew closer I found myself entertaining the possibility of voluntarily dropping from the race.
What was I thinking? I’ve never dropped out of a race before and have always sworn that I’d only voluntarily DNF if my safety was at risk or I was severely injured. Neither of these conditions applied right now. My shin wasn’t bothering me while I was walking. I had time to keep going. And I was warm, fed and hydrated.
I went up the steps into the aid station, grabbed some more food and topped up my bottles, and quickly headed off into the night. As I made my way across the bridge I weighed up my options:
Continue until I either reached the finish or failed to meet an aid station cut off
Continue to the next aid station, Goring, and drop out there
I chose the second option.
Time to DNF
As soon as I decided to quit at Goring I knew I’d made the right choice. Yes, I had time to keep going and I might just make it to the finish. I probably could have. I’d calculated that of my pace dropped a little then I’d still have time to finish the race.
Just because you can it doesn’t mean you should. Having already walked for over 30 miles I was faced with doing the same again once I reached Goring and I’d have over 10 hours to do it. Given that it’s possible to walk a marathon in 6 hours I knew it was doable, even if I slowed down. But what was the point?
I had nothing to prove, I’d already completed 6 races at this distance (including this one), and there was a real risk that the repetitive movement of walking might forget aggravate my shin and/or lead to another overuse injury. I could finish the race and end up injured and out of action for months.
With the Autumn 100 as my main race goal for the year I parked my ego, thought carefully, and relaxed. I was done, I just had to cover the 4 miles to Goring first.
Sonny Peart greeted me as I arrived at Goring aid station. Quite rightly, he asked me if I was sure I wanted to drop given I had time to march it in. Two minutes later I was sitting on a chair, race number handed over and waiting for a ride on Dave’s sweeper bus. Only this time I was happy to be aboard.
Dan Park arrived at Goring about half an hour later and looked like a man on a mission. Top marks for grinding it out Dan, go get that Grand Slam.
The aftermath
After arriving at the finish just after 7am I spoke with Zoe Norman, Richard Stillion, Steven Rookie, Stuart March, Stuart McLaughlin (who I was delighted to discover had obliterated his own 100 mile PB and went sub-24 for the first time), Corinne Rodgers, Nici Griffin, Drew Sheffield, James Wilson and Garfield Jones (who I’d seen around Maidenhead and then at Goring).
And then came the epic train journey home!
Ignore the elevation, GPS is off as it’s half that
As I wrote in a post in the Centurion Running Facebook community a few days after the race:
Having been on both sides of these races many times I’ve seen people’s races unravel as a volunteer and a runner. I’ve spoken with runners determined to quit and watched them leave the aid station minutes later, going on to get that buckle in some cases and in others pushing as far as they physically could.
As runners, sometimes we find a way to pick up the pieces, fuse them into something that’ll do the job, and get ourselves go the finish. Sometimes we either don’t have it within us, don’t have a strong enough why to continue, or injury causes us to succumb. And sometimes we just decide it’s not our day.
Sitting in Goring village hall for 3 hours in the middle of the night and then on the sweeper bus gives you lots of time to reflect and regret making the decision to withdraw (despite the reassurances and positivity of the volunteers).
I have no regrets.
My first DNF galvanised me into rebuilding my fitness, transforming my training, and getting that NDW100 buckle as part of my Grand Slam journey in 2019.
I’ve learned a lot from this experience and can’t wait to work with Matt Bevan as my coach from the end of May.
My journey will continue at the A100 and I’ll be back in that village hall with another buckle in October.
After December’s highest ever monthly mileage total I continued my runstreak throughout January.
Having enjoyed the Lapland Virtual Ultra Challenge in December I signed up to the Montane Virtual Spine Race. Participants had from 1-31 January to complete the 268 mile distance of the full Spine Race.
Having taken full advantage of being on furlough from my job in December to get longer runs done (albeit I was running by 6am and home before 8:30am most days 🤷) I was planning to do the same in January. I then got “the call” on Monday 4 January to inform me that the company was letting me go due to the Covid19 pandemic and impact upon its business performance and plans.
Bugger. I was now jobless. Again. Having been out of work for 2 months last Summer following redundancy I wasn’t relishing the idea of getting back on the job search train.
However, I had maintained consistency in my running since the first nationwide lockdown in March 2020 and having a goal to aim for was exactly what I needed. I’d get up early and run some miles towards the Spine race and continue to bring myself to the day rather than have the day come to me. That helped me to start the day focused and energised after the run. And to get out of the house!
I also found out that the team at 33Fuel had chosen me as one of their newly formed Collective of brand ambassadors, and after our first video call together I decided to mark the occasion the following morning by running 33 laps of the local recreation ground!
I had completed the Lapland Virtual Ultra in 10 days, well within the 13 days allowed. As the Virtual Spine Race progressed I wondered if I could complete it a week early. More than that, I set myself the goal of finishing on Sunday 24 January. Along the way I got to to have “a bit of a moment” on the trail while doing a Facebook Live about the challenges of job seeking while out on a Sunday morning trail run that had been going really well! I also ran some miles with my friends and fellow Spine Race participants Simon Welch and Paul Pickford, enjoying a Rocky moment with the latter as I regained my confidence and optimistic attitude to life.
Early January determination post-job loss newsEnjoying a 19 mile run around the Hampshire countryside (roads) with SimonA misty morning run to Kingley Vale and back, Rocky moment included, with Paul
After 24 days, and 4 consecutive 75+ mile weeks of running, I crossed the virtual finish line and completed the Virtual Spine Race one week before the cut off. I was delighted.
Race blingMy biggest ever weekly running mileages occurred on December and January Happy to finish!
I continued my runstreak until the end of January, 62 consecutive days of running. I’d never have believed in years gone by that I was capable of that, let alone 2 months where I ran 336 miles each month. 772 miles in December and January, when I only ran 957 miles in total throughout 2015, my 💯 mile debut year! Yet I’d done it and I felt strong. The rebuilding I started in 2018, after my DNF at the 2017 NDW100, and continued running since has definitely made me a much stronger, more resilient and more capable runner.
What next? The team at Centurion Running has put on some great virtual running events and challenges in 2020 and announced their One Love virtual races for Valentine’s weekend in February. With a 5k, half marathon and 50k on offer, how could I resist having a go at a new 50k PB?
A fellow participant or an Earth child, no matter – seen at Kingley Vale a week before the One Love race weekend
Once I’d entered the 50k I started to think about the route I might run. It didn’t take me long to decide. No trail for me. I have a longstanding love if running hill repeats up and down a local incline, which is perfect for steady running at a gradient of 3%. In the second half of 2020 I’d set new PBs on Hollybank Lane of 20, then 30, and finally 36 (about 21 miles). The latter was really tough. So…. I had to go for it…. I’d start my One Love 50k at 4:30am on Valentine’s Day and spend the next few hours running up and down and up and down and up and down…. You get the picture!
Once I shared my plan with him, Simon kindly offered to join me for the first couple of hours. This was really helpful and the reps ticked over nicely, with my plan to run 5 ups and then hike 1 rep working well. After Simon left I maintained the momentum, stopping off briefly at my “aid station” (a carrier bag ticked behind a tree at the top of the road) to top up my food and water a couple of times. For the last half dozen reps I referred to a run 3 ups, hike 1 up strategy. I was knackered.
55 Reps later I’d completed the 50k and managed to do so in a time I’d not even contemplated. My previous best time for 50k was just over 6 hours (as part of the 54k Hangman Ultra in 2018). Given the demands upon my body of constant, repetitive ups and running on road I’d hoped that I would be able to get it done in just under 6 hours. I finished in 5:28:25 and had knocked over 30 minutes off of my 50k PB! I was ecstatic. My calves less so, as they both went into full in cramp within a couple of minutes after I finished!
The smile says it all 😃One Love finisher’s certificate, with artwork by the very talented Owen DelaneyTold you I like this route!The route – navigation easy!
Last December I reflected upon my year of running, including the Centurion Running 100 mile Grand Slam and my biggest annual mileage to date (1,501).
This year, I set myself the goal of running 2,020 miles in 2020 and had planned to run 3 x 10 mile races in February and March to complete the Imperial race series and work on my speed ahead of the big race of the year, the 145 mile Kennet Avon Canal Race in July.
So how did 2020 go for me?
Goal 1: Complete the Imperial Race Series
👎 Race 1 (Lychett 10) was cancelled due to a storm, Race 2 (Bournemouth 10) was cancelled due to a storm, Race 3 (Larmer Tree 10) was on but I was unwell and unable to attend (in retrospect, I’m convinced that I had a mild case of Covid19 in March)
👍 The Bournemouth 10 was rescheduled and we were also given the option to run it virtually, so I took them up on this, ran it that weekend and managed to knock 7 minutes off my 10 mile PB to finish in under 1 hour 22 minutes
Goal 2: Kennet Avon Canal Race (aiming for a finish)
👎 KACR 145 was cancelled in late June due to Covid19 – I’m now aiming for a shot at GUCR 145 in 2022 after failing to get a place in the ballot for 2021
Goal 3: Run 2,020 miles in 2020
👍 After my most consistent year of running to date, I hit this target on early December and managed to end the year on 2,280 miles
Other lowlights of 2020
😢 After battling with terminal liver cancer for 3 years, Mark Thornberry (known to his many, many friends as Thorners) lost his battle – many tears were shed on the trails in the coming days and weeks as I remembered this wonderful man and #MIBUltraTeam captain/Team Leader
Other highlights of 2020
👍 Completing my first ever 100 mile week in May during the Centurion Running One Community event, and finishing a day early in 6 days
👍 After a Covid19 delayed start, the opportunity to volunteer once again at Centurion Running races to give back after my Grand Slam last year – North Downs Way 100, Thames Path 100, and Autumn 100 volunteer duties completed before the South Downs Way 100 was cancelled due to November’s Lockdown 2.0 😔
👍 A Monarchs Way exploratory/adventure run with Simon on a perfect July day
👍 Getting some group Summer trail runs in, in between lockdowns, and remembering that life is good – even when a duck 🦆 steals your Snickers bar eh, Paul Pickford 😉
👍 Completing the Great Virtual Race Across Tennessee, finishing well within the 3 month time limit
👍 Finally getting around to organising and committing to a run around the Isle of Wight – originally scheduled for May and postponed due to the first Covid19 lockdown, Simon Welch and I completed this in September
👍 Being asked on two podcasts as a guest to share my running stories and approach to life – many thanks again to Rob Cowlin and Simon Staples of the Band of Runners podcast and Warren Pole of 33 Fuel
👍 Completing the Lakeland Lapland Virtual Ultra in December, 145 miles in 10 days and finishing 3 days within the cut off
👍 Continuing to embrace the joy and pain of hill repeats on my favourite local incline – including one session where I did 36 hill reps covering almost 21 miles
👍 At the second attempt, after withdrawing due to illness last December, completing Marcothon by running every day in December – and by running 336 miles over 31 days achieving my highest mileage month ever and second 100 mile week of the year
It’s been a great year for my running, that’s for sure. I’ve been more consistent and more committed than ever before and proved to myself that I can handle higher mileage weeks. I’ve loved it.
Time to go ultra - #projectultra was just the start 