For most of the five week gap between Thames Path and this race I was not sure if I would even be able to start, never mind finish the race. The glute injury I picked up (and then made much worse) during TP100 seemed like it was going to bench me for quite a while. I couldn’t walk at all for the first few days, but a couple of visits to the physio and strict adherence to the specified rehab regime saw a daily improvement in range of motion and a reduction in pain. With two weeks to go I was thinking “well, maybe it could be good to go by race day?” but no better than 50:50 really. With one week to go the physio said I could re-introduce some running, just a little bit, a minute or two at a time. I managed to test a run:walk ratio of 2:7 and 3:7 over two runs on D-minus-7 and D-minus-5, then it was time to chill out and hope for the best. Would these successful tests translate into over 24 hrs of hilly South Downs Way?

Wanting to avoid a recurrence of the glute injury I opted for a very conservative pace plan for the race, going with 3:7 run:walk from the start which should have had me finish in a bit under 28 hours. It was to be a long day. Or days.

I really didn’t know how quickly my iffy glute was going to let me go, and really the only thing that mattered was to finish, to keep the slam alive.

The race starts with a couple of laps of Matterley Bowl, a natural amphitheatre near Winchester. I stuck with my conservative 3:7 run:walk strategy from the start. This quickly meant I was near the back, but I was content to play the long game. The offending glute was a bit achey and stiff when running, but didn’t really give me too much cause for concern. Despite not really running much, my strong hiking game meant I was making good time, reaching Beacon Hill Beeches checkpoint about 15 minutes ahead of plan. Queen Elizabeth Country Park (22 miles) was reached in good order, about 45 minutes ahead of plan. This was very encouraging – if I could continue at this apparently very manageable pace, I would come in well under 24 hours. About then the sun became very hot, and stayed that way until well into the evening, getting to over 30 degrees. Very warm indeed, doubly so when you factor in the sun bouncing back up at you off the white chalk that forms much of the trail on the Downs. And there is very little shade, a lot of the route is exposed. As I was ahead of plan, and because I wasn’t really in a rush, I decided to ditch the running and just hike until it cooled down enough to run again. I saw a lot of overheated people during the afternoon as I power-hiked past, getting a lot of compliments on my strong hiking pace. The aid stations in the afternoon were like a field hospital – runners laid out on the ground, red in the face, looking thoroughly done in.

I planned some time to sort my feet out at half way, but brought that forward to Cocking crew point at 35 miles as my feet were beginning to bother me. This was to become a recurring theme as “bother me” became “unending agony with every step” during the second half of the race. I’m not sure if it was my shoes, the heat, wearing winter socks, poor preventive measures, dust from the trail, or perhaps even the fact that I was hiking much more and for much longer than I normally would. A combination of factors I expect.

By the time I got to Chantry Post, just past half way, it was less hot, cool enough to contemplate jogging. In theory. In practice, my feet were not having it. I could hike ok, but they were too sore to run on. My pacer squad of Jon, David and Paul were subjected to a lot of moaning about my feet, more and more of it as we inched slowly towards Eastbourne.

Mental challenges

It is often said that ultramarathons, particularly 100 milers, are as much a mental test as a physical one. I felt ill-prepared mentally for this race. Until a few days before I wasn’t sure if I would be able to finish, so had spent no time thinking through the race – no mulling it over in my head for weeks like I usually would, whether I wanted to or not! When it became clear that I could start and have a decent chance of finishing, I flapped a bit over the prep. I was a little later than I wanted to be arriving at registration, not leaving much time to queue for the loos. I reached the lavs as the race briefing was finishing, getting to the start line with just a couple of minutes to spare. It was good to get going, settling me down a bit. I had a real low point over night, about 2am. My feet were giving me real gip, I was getting very frustrated at our rate of progress, each passing mile seeming to take forever, and with a lot of miles still to do.

The thought of continuing in that state for another 8 or 10 hours did not appeal at all. Inside my head I was ready to quit at the next aid station, sack off the slam, probably cancel NDW100 and get a refund. I’d made peace with this notion, and all that was left was to voice it out loud to my crew. I eventually plucked up the courage to tell David, pacing at the time. He did an excellent job of just ignoring me, essentially saying “there there, it’ll be ok” By the time we got to Housedean Farm, the next aid station, I’d decided to at least keep going for the hour or two till the sun came up. Fortified by cheesy beans and a cup of tea, we plodded off up the next hill. It was still a battle, but I somehow just accepted that the miles were going to tick by very slowly, it was going to take an age to get to each checkpoint, and it was going to hurt a lot. But tough shit, that was just the way it was.

Stepping right back from it now, this was a classic overnight, mid-ultra low point, and perhaps I should have done a better job of recognising it for what it was at the time, not allowing myself to wallow in it for quite so long.

Hydration

Given the conditions on the day, this was essential to get right. It’s so critical, and can cause a cascade of other issues if done badly. I had crew support from 22 miles, giving me a few extra stops in the race to pick up more fluids. I carried the usual two 500ml flasks up front, with a spare in the back that I intended to use if I ran dry, and another 750ml bottle as emergency back up. I quite often used the spare 500ml flask, but never needed the emergency back up. That meant extra weight carried for no actual benefit, but I’ve been de-hydrated in a summer race before and it is NOT FUN. There are a few public drinking water taps on the route which I used to top up, and my crew made sure I drank something extra every time I saw her. I drank plenty, but never felt like it was sloshing about inside me. I was probably helped by not running – I was working less hard, sweating a lot less than most people. I think we got hydration about right, I’m pleased with this aspect of the race.

Fuelling

Being adequately hydrated also makes it much easier to eat. In addition to a steady supply of Tailwind, I ate a tonne of food. There was a period where I didn’t fancy much of what I had on me – it was too hot for sandwiches and crisps, but fortunately both Centurion and Louise had laid on a lot of fruit which was just the job – tasty, refreshing and easy calories. After my positive cup-a-soup experience on TP100, I had three of them on this race. They’re easy to take on, tasty and quite salty too. At Southease (84 miles) I had the munchies big time, my stomach was rumbling loudly. I polished off two rounds of excellent jam sandwiches here, really stuffing my face, and felt a lot better for it. Overall I think I stayed on top of fuelling – again probably helped by expending less energy than I normally would.

Crew/Pacing team

Once again I was very lucky to have a really fantastic squad supporting me on this race. Louise was crew queen, keeping me moving and making sure I was eating and drinking enough. Jon did the first pacing stint, Chantry Post to Devil’s Dyke. David did the overnight shift from Devil’s Dyke to Firle Beacon, tolerating with good grace my sullen demeanour and continuous moaning about my poor feet. Paul had the glory shift, bringing me in to the finish at what felt like a snail’s pace (my doing, not his!). From my perspective, this all worked very well, and I was really pleased to have the support. Would I have dropped at Housedean without David’s reassuringly uninterested take on my thoughts of bailing, or without the fear of telling Louise I was quitting?! Quite possibly. I am very grateful for their support – thank you!

Fatigue/Injury

Hiking 90% of the course meant I was doing fine on the fatigue front. I didn’t hear a peep out of the glute, which was a relief. It may be that on a different day, in different conditions, more running may have brought it on, but on the day it was not a factor. My only real issue, and it was a significant one, was my feet. I struggled through it, but after the race they really let me know all about it. They were excruciating on Monday, merely agony on Tuesday and progressively less painful as the week progressed. As I write this on Friday, I still can’t walk on them properly. For the second time this year I spent two days in bed injured, incapacitated, after a 100 miler. This is really not OK. A certain amount of decrepitude is expected after moving for 100 miles, but this is ridiculous. It’s really frustrating to be physically well in most respects post-race, but utterly fucked up in just one. The glute issue seems to be in the past, but I really have to sort out my feet for NDW100, I can’t do, or at least really don’t want to do, the same thing again. I need to look at my preventive measures, sock and shoe strategy, trying different models and changing during the race too, particularly the socks. It could be warm again on NDW100 so sweaty feet will need addressing more frequently. I dunno. Annoying.

I suppose I should point out that despite all the moaning and complaining, I did eventually finish the race, in 28h53. This was about an hour longer than my conservative plan suggested it would take, with all of that damage done in the last 15 miles when I was reduced to 20 minute miling.

I feel like I’m properly earning my big 100 Slam buckle. TP100 was tough because of conditions underfoot, muddy and horrible, and I was injured to boot. SDW100 was very hot work, the trail was rock hard and unforgiving, and my feet were just a nightmare. What’s does NDW100 have in store for me? A plague of locusts? Zombies? We shall see.

I’ll be back at some point with an inter-race training update.