South Downs Way 100 – Trail Ultra Marathon
Centurion Running 14th – 15th June 2014
Blog dated 20th June 2014
Vital stats:
100 miles, along the South Downs Way, 12,700ft of ascent, 14 check points and a 30 hour time limit.
In the beginning – well, June 2013 at least ....
Last year’s attempt ground to a halt after 67 miles when my body, carrying ongoing injuries and a virus I didn’t even know was there, called a dramatic end to proceedings – just like that and no negotiations. Having hit problems at mile 12 I forced myself on for another 55 miles, but that completely wrecked me - there was nothing left.
At the time I was cross with myself and thought, after the event, that I’d given in too early. I attempted the race unsupported and carrying multiple injuries (and a hidden virus), and so didn’t, in reality, stand much chance. At the time I couldn’t see this but now it is obvious – the undeniable power of hindsight!
So when the 2014 race entry opened I had to do it, I had unfinished business and a seriously bad demon to bury. I wanted the coveted 100 mile buckle, I mean really wanted it, I mean REALLY, REALLY, REALLY wanted it! But, following a serious health scare in July, I was unable to train until Christmas – leaving me just 6 months to get myself up to 100 mile condition. Hmmm ....
Jump forward to April 2014:
A second running of the SDW50 saw my strength and training put to the test and I completed 1 hour and 20 minutes quicker than last year – an improvement. But, this still proved nothing. Was I in a condition to take the buckle? What did I need to change from last year?
How do you define madness?
The definition of madness can be quoted thus: “Endlessly repeating the same things expecting a different outcome ...”
If I wanted to be successful this year then repeating what I did last year was almost certainly going to yield the same disastrous result – best think this one through a bit more.
Project Phoenix and the formation of Team GUC:
The Phoenix – the legendary bird that is reborn from the ashes of the fire. Project Phoenix would convert me from a DNF to a Centurion. A bold statement, but in need of some serious substance. I needed a team - and this is where my luck turned very much in my favour ...
Step forward and take a bow Team GUC:
My wonderful wife Teresa and son James volunteered (no, really ...) to be my car crew from the outset of the race providing food, drink, spare kit and vital emotional support. Then, totally out of the blue the most excellent Jon and Natasha Fielden volunteered their support. Natasha would join the car support crew at Washington (mile 54) and Jon would become my pacer all the way through to the end - a distance of 46 miles!!!!
We took time to plan every last detail, meeting several times - although this always became an excuse to eat something :-) Me and Jon spent several weekends running 24+ miles on the sections between Washington and Housedean Farm and then between Housedean Farm and Eastbourne to the point where course navigation had switched to auto-pilot no matter what time of day or night.
A final meeting to review details and we knew we were as ready as it was possible to get.
Ok you got a team, but what else did you change?
A team gives an almost immeasurable boost to how you approach this race and how you feel during your time on the trail. But, and this is an important but, they can't run this race for you! I took a long look at myself and asked others for their candid opinions of what needed changing. This was not a time to be all precious and easily upset! Almost as one mind the improvement plan was identified - stop drinking for 3 months before the event, eat better, lose a stone in weight, build my core strength and ensure I was getting proper body maintenance. So that is what I did - total abstinence from the booze, just over a stone in weight lost, regular sports massages from the most excellent Janine Pay and I enrolled in Paul Holdaway's core and flexibility class. Both Susie Casebourne and Dave Palmer are big advocates of the benefits of these classes, especially in terms of the ultra-runner. And they were right - Paul is fantastic at this stuff and he really knocked me into better shape in just five weeks! And to supplement all of this I have been getting in regular indoor rowing sessions too.
So - quite a major reworking of the body!
The night before the race:
Having travelled down to Winchester during Friday we had booked into one of Lenny's pubs (Premier Inn for the uninitiated). Race registration opened Friday evening and by taking this opportunity to get mandatory kit checks out of the way and to pick up my race number, then I could enjoy an easier start to Saturday. It was also great to spend some chilled out time with Tim and Susie to see how the past masters of this race mentally prepared. It seemed to involve alcohol! Oh damn, that wasn’t the answer I was hoping for as I was still not able to drink until after the race (self- imposed embargo). I decided instead to head off to bed for an early night, only to be kept awake for most of it by a seriously impressive thunder storm. Oh well, it all added to the drama of the event.
A race in four parts:
Early Saturday morning – race briefing:
You could feel the excitement, the tension and the nerves building. I love those final minutes before a race, the sheer level of energy is palpable and I really draw strength from it. James Elson (Centurion Race Director) delivered his trademark excellent, appropriately detailed and supportive race briefing. This left just a couple of minutes to get my thoughts together - it was almost 06:00. Then, while most people were still chatting, and with almost no ceremony at all, the starting horn sounded and we were away. This is the point for me when all those weeks of pre-race tension vanish in a heartbeat. It was time to do a job, to complete a journey that had begun with a mad race sign up nearly two years ago ...
Part 1 – Winchester to CP2 Queen Elizabeth Country Park (22 miles):
06:00 race start and a big adrenaline rush, so went off fast but comfortable. Ran with Dave Palmer through to CP1 (approx. 10 miles) in good time. It was a beautiful day, perfect for sitting on the beach - not so perfect for running 100 miles! It got very hot very quickly and the humidity built quickly too making running challenging and difficult to breath properly. I am not great at dealing with the heat, much preferring to run in driving rain and the cold -weird or what? Stomach cramping
plagued me off and on pretty much all through the race but was especially noticeable in these first three sections. I was able to get fluid in me but was finding it difficult to eat anything – not a sustainable position to be in!
We left CP1 and headed across the fields at Exton and then ran a twisty, rooty, wooded section alongside a stream. This was both sheltered from the sun and was an absolute hoot to charge through. The guy running between me and Dave probably thought he was being chased by a loony! As we progressed onto the shoulders of Old Winchester Hill Dave was able to pull away - he obviously had his hill legs on. I opted to conserve power and not go on the chase – a decision that I knew with absolute certainty was right.
I felt ok but was getting hotter and as a consequence was slowing down. I wasn't worried by this though as I was mindful of all the cut-off times for each CP and was nowhere near being threatened by time constraints. I know this end of the SDW pretty well as we have friends that live in Petersfield and we spend a lot of time running these sections. This local knowledge can’t be over-valued as it gives a certain comfort and bags of confidence, just knowing where exactly on the course you are.
This whole race is a relentless battle with, initially, your body and later your mind. Your body will get weary and will increasingly hurt - that is a given that you must accept. Fail to do so and your race will end quite quickly. The wearier you become then the bigger the battle becomes in your mind. If this battle starts early in the race, if you let doubts and worry about every little detail occupy your thoughts, then again you will almost certainly set yourself up to fail!
I got to CP2 (22 miles) 17 minutes quicker than last year. I was disappointed with this as I thought I had run much better, and consequently a dark cloud started forming in my mind. Was this becoming a repeat performance of last year, despite all the changes I had made? Teresa and James were waiting for me with big smiles, a big cheer and a sweet coffee. We had a family hug, they topped up my drinks bottles, gave me some coke and poured cold water on my neck buff and hat. This is a brilliant cooling trick used by racers in the Marathon des Sables - and I want to thank Dean Baker (multiple finisher of that event) for passing on this valuable tip. This emotional boost from my crew lifted my spirits back up – it was far too early to be feeling like this!
Part 2 – CP2 (22 miles) to CP7 Washington (54 miles):
On went the iPod, out came the running poles, later referred to as “The Kilian Drive”, and, bolstered by my crew’s support, I sprang back to life. The cold water treatment had cooled me down and I knew that I would need to keep on top of that. The coffee and coke had also kicked in nicely – I was super-charged. This was a bit more like it!
I know that area of the course very well and so was able to push harder through to CP3 Harting Downs (27 miles). Last year this section seemed to last forever, this year it flew past. A quick top up, re-soaking, and away, pushing hard across to CP4 Cocking (35 miles) arriving an hour faster than last year. This was much better – solid effort yielding proper rewards and is just the sort of race psychology that helps keep you motivated. It was at this point in the race that I realised that all the changes I had made to my preparation were showing strong signs of improvement.
The crew car met me here, with a smile and a hug from Teresa and James. A formula one style refuel and change of tyres, I mean trainers, and I was away again. These next sections would be tough as I had 19 miles to go before getting to Washington and seeing the crew again. There are two CPs in between but are both on top of huge hills and the course heads a long way down prior to starting the climb up each of them. You certainly get what it says on the tin with this race – a lot of
hills. The upshot would be that, when at Washington, the whole crew would be there and Jon would be joining me as my pacer and Natasha would be extra crew car support.
The weather changed through this section bringing very welcome rain showers, and then changed again bringing back intense sun along with a less than welcome degree of humidity. I had adjusted to this by now and soon arrived at CP5 Bignor Hill (42 miles). A quick pit-stop here and some delicious home-made apple cake, (made by one of the aid station volunteer’s daughter,) and away again.
Across the river at Amberley, just outside of Arundel and onto the long, long climb up to CP6 Kithurst Hill (50 miles) – feeling much stronger than last year and holding a good and consistent pace. A question was growing in my mind at this point that I was desperately trying to ignore ...
“This is going very well, but how much longer can you hold this kind of output and are the wheels going to come off in dramatic style?”
This is what I mean about mental strength being so essential when running these sorts of distances. Here I was doing pretty damn well as far as I was concerned and yet part of me was almost willing things to go wrong. Well, I was having none of it, having long ago learned how to control this sort of ridiculous thinking. If the negative monkey on the shoulder was coming along on this jaunt it had best put on its running shoes and do some bloody work of its own – NO PASSENGERS TODAY!
I had some great tunes banging out on the iPod and really should at this point take the opportunity to apologise to all who heard my terrible singing. 70’s prog-rock being banged out by me could not have been a great thing to listen to! However, it all helped and, almost before realising it, I was dropping off the hills and into Washington. I knew this next CP was significant. Last year I sat alone trying to get myself sorted out for the second half of the race and for the night section, while watching other racers’ crews help them. That was difficult. That started to break my spirit ...
Part 3 – CP7 (54 miles) to CP9 Saddlescombe Farm (67 miles):
This year it would be different! Teresa, James, Natasha and Jon were all outside ready to meet me and their smiles and cheers lifted me even higher than I already was. This was good, really good!
Inside the aid station it was formula one pit crew time again. Hot food and lots of drinks appeared. My running bottles were topped up and a spare bottle was provided by Natasha to replace one that had bounced out of the back of my pack earlier – fantastic bit of crew work, as I hadn’t even asked.
I changed trainers again and took a bit of time to sort out a particularly problematic blister on the side of my foot. I discovered at this point just how squeamish Jon is in relation to blisters as he had to quickly turn away having already gone as white as Casper the Ghost! I also taped up a few other foot pains, and this proved to be a really good move. Spending an extra ten minutes engaged in this sort of body maintenance would save a lot of time later in the race and could, in worst case, prevent a DNF from happening.
I had made a point, as per my race plan, of not stopping for long in the CPs, with a couple of exceptions. The main exception was Washington as I knew I would need some proper refuelling ahead of the night section and some degree of body maintenance. I also knew that from this point onwards and all the way through to the end that I would have Jon with me as my Pacer. Jon’s prime directive was to ensure I finished inside of the 30 hour cut-off, no matter what. No pressure there then!!!!
Jon made it abundantly clear, before we had even left Washington village, that he had not signed up for a 46 mile walk. I would therefore be expected to run, in order to bank time, for as much of the remainder of the course as possible. He would keep me motivated and would basically think for me. Oh and by the way, don’t be using the lame excuse about having already run 54 miles already!!!!
So, with that in mind, I was clearly not in for a nice easy second half, he was going to drive me hard all the way, bloody power crazed maniac!
The climb out of Washington up to Chanctonbury Ring (whole range of jokes about that name available upon request) just keeps on giving. This was a strange blessing in disguise though as it allows you some time to get your body moving again and your thoughts in order. By the time we reached the tree ring we had, almost un-noticed by me, started running again and quickly covered the section through to CP8 Bottolphs (61 miles). The Team were meeting us just outside the CP so we checked in and passed through without stopping. As we crossed the road and ran towards the waiting team we could see they we all waving large pieces of paper with .... Team GUC emblems on and were all cheering loudly. This made me laugh and gave me another real boost. I really love these guys, they are the best team ever.
A brief stop for a swig or two of coke and a quick water top up and we hit the hills again. This was going to be a long climb, but we had done it so often in training, and in running the SDW50, that it has become second nature. We got up it pretty well but I will admit that that was the point when the real fatigue started to hit me hard – and it never really left throughout the rest of the race.
At the top we broke out the head torches. I thought mine was pretty good, it is powerful and gives a good amount of diffuse light. Then Jon broke out the behemoth – a head torch whose beam was literally setting fire to the grass at our feet! I was genuinely worried that small aircraft would have thought they were almost at Shoreham airport and would try making their final approach on us!
We descended and then climbed back out of Fulking Escarpment at which point we had to cross a field of cows. Cows – generally docile and domesticated livestock with very little excitement attached to them .... Until you try sneaking past them at night when they have calves! For whatever reason the herd got the jitters and a number of them went on the move – right where we were. The problem here is that these cows were quite dark coloured, at night, with no other light about and they don’t play fair by wearing head torches of their own. Suddenly I became aware that I had a cow charging straight for me and only a few feet away ....
Now – after 60+ miles you think you are tired. You think your body has got stiff and unresponsive. You think your brain has gone into semi-sleep mode. Well, let me make this very clear – with all that in mind, when you suddenly have several stone of Sunday roast charging at you in a very pissed off maternal state you find that you can move suddenly, quickly and highly evasively. And yes, adrenaline does have a funny smell to it ....
Once we had evaded imminent death by angry meal we decided to put best foot forward and get to the next meeting point with the team, just outside of CP9. We soon got there and recounted our tale – horrified looks all round! I took this opportunity to top up some sugar and to take five minutes in order to settle down again. This next section was important – this next section had a very large demon waiting for me.
But I was ready – that bastard was going down this time, and it was going down hard!
Part 4 - CP9 (67 miles) to Eastbourne Sports Track (100 miles):
Having just topped up outside of the CP, we just clocked in, said hi and then ran straight through. I was in no mood to delay the mental and physical fight that I knew was just a few moments away.
We quickly hit West Hill – the scene of last year’s cataclysmic failing. I climbed to the exact point it all went wrong, and yes, it is burned upon my brain with terrifying location accuracy, and pushed past. I was not going to stop until I got to the gate at the top of the hill. I had imagined what I was going to say and do when I got past this point, but when it came to it I just swore to myself and was relieved I had passed that section. We ran on down the hill and worked our way across the A23, across Pyecombe golf course and on to CP10 Clayton Windmills (70 miles). I was now in officially uncharted mileage territory – I had never run this far before, and it felt good.
The guys at the CP had put in a fantastic amount of effort with mad lighting all around the CP and all of them wearing flashing mohawks! You’d need to have seen it to get the picture, but it was a great way of making people smile – it certainly worked for me.
We didn’t stay long, despite the time of year, you get cold quickly if you’re not moving – probably due to a complete lack of fuel in my reserves. We pushed up the hill and on towards Ditchling Beacon car park where we met by the crew car team. Lots of warm hugs and smiles and a general fuel top up and they sent us on our way. Seriously – if Scuderia Ferrari are looking for new formula 1 pit crew they would do well to talk to these three heroes.
This is can be quite a long section, it certainly is on the SDW50. But by breaking it up with the Clayton Windmills CP and with the crew meet at the car park it seemed to go much quicker. But each mile now was becoming much harder and I could feel every one of the last 70+ miles in my system. I realised just how much I was digging in and also how little reserve I had left in the tanks. Very soon I would be moving using nothing more than will power at this rate! Just as well I am the most bloody-minded stubborn bastard that I know then.
We dropped down the final hill of the section to meet the car crew again just outside CP11 Housedean Farm (76 miles), just under a marathon left to go. I was properly flagging by this time and Teresa literally had to hold me upright for a bit. We left them quickly and went into the CP to check in and to get a coffee, which helped enormously. Funny how you latch on to the little details – the CP team had brought cherries, great antioxidants, and a real treat. There were only a couple left, but one of the ladies shot off into her store in the back and brought back a real handful. This really made me feel happy – just to see cherries and kindness together. Couldn’t help feel sorry for the guy asleep in a chair wrapped up in space blankets like a baked potato – that was clearly his race over!!!
We left and pushed up the long climb to get us onto the section leading to Southese. This is a bugger of a climb when you are fresh, but after 76 miles it felt like the north face of the Eiger! The miles slowly ticked by and we found ourselves in another field full of cows and calves. Spooked by our earlier encounter we quickly passed through, thankfully without incident. An interesting point to note is that in this field is a finger post that points out the Western Hemisphere and the Eastern Hemisphere – because you cross the Greenwich Meridian. I knew this was a long race, but to cross from one half of the world to the other, I mean ...., sheesh!!!!
We dropped from the hill into the valley, along the horrible broken concrete farm track and then crossed down into Southese itself. We ran along the road, albeit it not very quickly, and into CP12 Southese (84 miles). So, twelve CPs down and only two to go, and then the sport track behind the DGH Hospital. So, only two to go eh? Sounds like you’ve almost made it until you consider that that
still represents another sixteen miles and three very tough hills. Jon pointed out, in that terribly realistic and candid way of his, that Southese to Alfriston is generally considered the crux position on this course. If a late section of the race is going to stop you, it’ll be this next one. Oh goody ....
We were able to meet the car crew again at this point and they made sure we were well stocked up and fed before heading out again. We didn’t need torches now as daylight had returned, so I repacked mine into my race pack and Jon dumped his in the car. I couldn’t dump mine as the torches are considered mandatory race equipment from Washington onwards. I was not going to get to the end of this race only to fail at the last on a mandatory kit infringement. Hell no!!!
We took the long, slow walk up and over the top to Firle Bostal car park where the car crew once again met us with cheers and smiles and hugs. They made sure they saw us as often as possible in that second half of the race, often just there to give you a smile and a hug. The difference it makes when you’ve been going for so long cannot be easily quantified. Every mile now was becoming exponentially harder and I will admit I was struggling badly. On the way up the hill out of Southese Jon had turned to find me ground to a halt with my head on my running poles almost asleep. Because of this he kept a very watchful eye on me now and constantly made sure I was being suitably motivated – by hook or by crook!
We eventually reached the point of the course where the track descends from the hills down in Alfriston and found the crew car had made the jump again and were ready for us. I staggered to the car and very nearly dropped – again being caught by Teresa and gently guided so that I could sit in the back of the boot. The magic that is Ambrosia Rice Pudding was applied, along with more coke and it pretty instantly lifted me. We took a few minutes to get ourselves together and then pushed on to the official CP, CP13 Alfriston (91 miles).
On arriving at the CP I got a coffee and grabbed some mini sausage rolls – bloody hell they went down well. At which point I got asked a simple question by one of the aid station volunteers. My reaction must have looked like she asked me if I wanted every bit of literature there is on Quantum Mechanics! I stared blankly at her and just said (probably quite bluntly – which is unforgivable) NO! What she actually asked me was did I want a plate of hot baked beans. Why the hell was that such a difficult question and why the hell did I act like a complete arse? To that poor volunteer I offer my sincere and humble apologies.
We left the CP before I could cause any other problems only to be met with a course diversion. Normally you would cross the white bridge and then take a left across the fields to the bottom of the climb up Long Man. But, no, the bridge was closed for essential maintenance – hardly surprising after the winter where Alfriston briefly changed its name to Atlantis!!!!
No instead we had to cross a field on this side of the river – a field complete with FIVE BLOODY STYLES!!!!!! Not wanting to lose any of the precious memories, Jon was kind enough to take photos of me trying to cross the styles. He was also kind enough to laugh heartily at my pain, misery and suffering – total bastard!!!!
Eventually we made it across the field, turned onto the lane, and limped along to the bottom of the climb up and over Long Man. Last time Jon and I got here we ran all the way up and over the top and down in Jevington without stopping. A tough, but enjoyable, training run. Jon suggested we do the same again as the precedent had very much been set. I invited Jon to piss off at this point. Think I was experiencing the first stages of a monumental sense of humour failure.
After what felt like a week ....., we eventually made the top only to find a large herd of cows all across the path. They seemed quite a feisty set of cows too, and, rather unusually for cows had no udders .... Holy shit, this was a group consisting largely of young bullocks! They instantly took exception at our sudden crashing of the party and got themselves all fired up – properly, complete with stamping and snorting. We had to get out of their way quickly but had nowhere to go, other than down a slope towards a fence, and the little buggers were starting a pincer movement. I had nothing left in me, this was not going to go well. If we were charged I had no way of escape, and neither did Jon. During this time two other runners had sneaked around the back of them and had made it through the gate and onto the next track the other side of the fence. Some of the bullocks saw them and charged off towards the fence in a very vocal and agitated state. Thankfully the bullocks near us decided to join in and this gave us a chance to get back on the main path, through the gate and out to safety. These buggers were genuinely malevolent and I do wonder how a farmer would stand legally if someone was attacked, on a public path crossing a National Park that the farmer had allowed his psychopathic bullocks to roam on?
Never mind – we had escaped, but I had hurt my foot trying to climb back onto the main path and could barely limp now. I was not happy. In fact I was proper miffed ....
We limped along as best we could and eventually made the drop down to the final CP, CP14 Jevington (95.5 miles). The check in person was waiting outside and I was eternally grateful as this CP has far too many steep steps up and back down again to be tempting. As such we pushed on down the hill looking for the left turn up the last hill. And there, unknown to me, were the car crew – one last time, the final hurrah. I cannot begin to explain just how much this lifted me, and I set off for the last hill with grim determination.
Every fibre of my body was hurting but no power on earth was going to stop me finishing this. I took the long, slow climb up the hill out of Jevington and kept looking at the top. Evey step that passed seemed to take me no nearer, but I knew it was. Little by little we inched forward until we made it to the trig point and met two race marshals who were stationed there to ensure that every racer could find the gulley that descends back into Eastbourne. I was SO glad to see them!!!
We dropped into the gulley, a rocky and slippery final insult to the body that is ready to trip you at every turn. Jon made sure I took this slowly and carefully because to fall and hurt yourself badly at this point would be a really stupid own goal, and I don’t even play football for Brazil .....
We made it to the road section – less than two miles to go. I was determined not to walk all of this – I was tired and hurting and I wanted to get finished. We did the tried and tested run, walk, run between various features along the way – junctions, hedges and road signs. We reached the hospital entrance and turned down the final path. Every time I run that path it seems to get longer. I reckon some rotten bugger had been out over-night extending it by a couple of miles!
And then ...., there it was. That long dreamed about moment where I emerge from the final path and cross the car park to enter the track via the side gate. My crew were there waiting, my friends were there waiting and the race organisers were there waiting (although for other people too of course!). They saw me and up went the cheers. I saw and heard them and out came the tears – I had finally got here and had just 400m left to go. Jon stayed with me all around the track until the last corner – constantly motivating me and telling me what I was about to achieve. Some of it I heard, some of it was lost in my breathing trying to choke back the tears.
The finish line gantry was there – I had less than 10 steps to do. There was no final sprint, there was no triumphant roar at finally succeeding. I crossed the line and drifted to a stop. Nici Griffin (senior
Centurion super star) came up to congratulate me, to give me a hug and to tell me that I had officially completed the South Downs Way 100 MILE trail run in a whisker over 28 hours. Then Teresa was there, with tears in her eyes, and rushed up to hug me. I tried to say something but that was the moment when I could no longer hold it together and literally collapsed on her sobbing my heart out. After all that had happened last year, I had finally come back and conquered my demons and achieved what I set out to achieve.
I grabbed James and Natasha and Jon and just about everyone else I could – I was SO happy. I then met Marvellous Mimi Anderson – Ultra Running Royalty – who presented me with the coveted 100 mile buckle and the race tee-shirt with the complete SDW map on the back.
I had done it, the Phoenix had risen from the ashes of defeat and I had become a Centurion. That will go down in history as one of the proudest days of my life.
Thank you:
No great achievement would be complete without recognising and thanking those closest to me and to Project Phoenix and Team GUC.
Centurion Running 14th – 15th June 2014
Blog dated 20th June 2014
Vital stats:
100 miles, along the South Downs Way, 12,700ft of ascent, 14 check points and a 30 hour time limit.
In the beginning – well, June 2013 at least ....
Last year’s attempt ground to a halt after 67 miles when my body, carrying ongoing injuries and a virus I didn’t even know was there, called a dramatic end to proceedings – just like that and no negotiations. Having hit problems at mile 12 I forced myself on for another 55 miles, but that completely wrecked me - there was nothing left.
At the time I was cross with myself and thought, after the event, that I’d given in too early. I attempted the race unsupported and carrying multiple injuries (and a hidden virus), and so didn’t, in reality, stand much chance. At the time I couldn’t see this but now it is obvious – the undeniable power of hindsight!
So when the 2014 race entry opened I had to do it, I had unfinished business and a seriously bad demon to bury. I wanted the coveted 100 mile buckle, I mean really wanted it, I mean REALLY, REALLY, REALLY wanted it! But, following a serious health scare in July, I was unable to train until Christmas – leaving me just 6 months to get myself up to 100 mile condition. Hmmm ....
Jump forward to April 2014:
A second running of the SDW50 saw my strength and training put to the test and I completed 1 hour and 20 minutes quicker than last year – an improvement. But, this still proved nothing. Was I in a condition to take the buckle? What did I need to change from last year?
How do you define madness?
The definition of madness can be quoted thus: “Endlessly repeating the same things expecting a different outcome ...”
If I wanted to be successful this year then repeating what I did last year was almost certainly going to yield the same disastrous result – best think this one through a bit more.
Project Phoenix and the formation of Team GUC:
The Phoenix – the legendary bird that is reborn from the ashes of the fire. Project Phoenix would convert me from a DNF to a Centurion. A bold statement, but in need of some serious substance. I needed a team - and this is where my luck turned very much in my favour ...
Step forward and take a bow Team GUC:
My wonderful wife Teresa and son James volunteered (no, really ...) to be my car crew from the outset of the race providing food, drink, spare kit and vital emotional support. Then, totally out of the blue the most excellent Jon and Natasha Fielden volunteered their support. Natasha would join the car support crew at Washington (mile 54) and Jon would become my pacer all the way through to the end - a distance of 46 miles!!!!
We took time to plan every last detail, meeting several times - although this always became an excuse to eat something :-) Me and Jon spent several weekends running 24+ miles on the sections between Washington and Housedean Farm and then between Housedean Farm and Eastbourne to the point where course navigation had switched to auto-pilot no matter what time of day or night.
A final meeting to review details and we knew we were as ready as it was possible to get.
Ok you got a team, but what else did you change?
A team gives an almost immeasurable boost to how you approach this race and how you feel during your time on the trail. But, and this is an important but, they can't run this race for you! I took a long look at myself and asked others for their candid opinions of what needed changing. This was not a time to be all precious and easily upset! Almost as one mind the improvement plan was identified - stop drinking for 3 months before the event, eat better, lose a stone in weight, build my core strength and ensure I was getting proper body maintenance. So that is what I did - total abstinence from the booze, just over a stone in weight lost, regular sports massages from the most excellent Janine Pay and I enrolled in Paul Holdaway's core and flexibility class. Both Susie Casebourne and Dave Palmer are big advocates of the benefits of these classes, especially in terms of the ultra-runner. And they were right - Paul is fantastic at this stuff and he really knocked me into better shape in just five weeks! And to supplement all of this I have been getting in regular indoor rowing sessions too.
So - quite a major reworking of the body!
The night before the race:
Having travelled down to Winchester during Friday we had booked into one of Lenny's pubs (Premier Inn for the uninitiated). Race registration opened Friday evening and by taking this opportunity to get mandatory kit checks out of the way and to pick up my race number, then I could enjoy an easier start to Saturday. It was also great to spend some chilled out time with Tim and Susie to see how the past masters of this race mentally prepared. It seemed to involve alcohol! Oh damn, that wasn’t the answer I was hoping for as I was still not able to drink until after the race (self- imposed embargo). I decided instead to head off to bed for an early night, only to be kept awake for most of it by a seriously impressive thunder storm. Oh well, it all added to the drama of the event.
A race in four parts:
Early Saturday morning – race briefing:
You could feel the excitement, the tension and the nerves building. I love those final minutes before a race, the sheer level of energy is palpable and I really draw strength from it. James Elson (Centurion Race Director) delivered his trademark excellent, appropriately detailed and supportive race briefing. This left just a couple of minutes to get my thoughts together - it was almost 06:00. Then, while most people were still chatting, and with almost no ceremony at all, the starting horn sounded and we were away. This is the point for me when all those weeks of pre-race tension vanish in a heartbeat. It was time to do a job, to complete a journey that had begun with a mad race sign up nearly two years ago ...
Part 1 – Winchester to CP2 Queen Elizabeth Country Park (22 miles):
06:00 race start and a big adrenaline rush, so went off fast but comfortable. Ran with Dave Palmer through to CP1 (approx. 10 miles) in good time. It was a beautiful day, perfect for sitting on the beach - not so perfect for running 100 miles! It got very hot very quickly and the humidity built quickly too making running challenging and difficult to breath properly. I am not great at dealing with the heat, much preferring to run in driving rain and the cold -weird or what? Stomach cramping
plagued me off and on pretty much all through the race but was especially noticeable in these first three sections. I was able to get fluid in me but was finding it difficult to eat anything – not a sustainable position to be in!
We left CP1 and headed across the fields at Exton and then ran a twisty, rooty, wooded section alongside a stream. This was both sheltered from the sun and was an absolute hoot to charge through. The guy running between me and Dave probably thought he was being chased by a loony! As we progressed onto the shoulders of Old Winchester Hill Dave was able to pull away - he obviously had his hill legs on. I opted to conserve power and not go on the chase – a decision that I knew with absolute certainty was right.
I felt ok but was getting hotter and as a consequence was slowing down. I wasn't worried by this though as I was mindful of all the cut-off times for each CP and was nowhere near being threatened by time constraints. I know this end of the SDW pretty well as we have friends that live in Petersfield and we spend a lot of time running these sections. This local knowledge can’t be over-valued as it gives a certain comfort and bags of confidence, just knowing where exactly on the course you are.
This whole race is a relentless battle with, initially, your body and later your mind. Your body will get weary and will increasingly hurt - that is a given that you must accept. Fail to do so and your race will end quite quickly. The wearier you become then the bigger the battle becomes in your mind. If this battle starts early in the race, if you let doubts and worry about every little detail occupy your thoughts, then again you will almost certainly set yourself up to fail!
I got to CP2 (22 miles) 17 minutes quicker than last year. I was disappointed with this as I thought I had run much better, and consequently a dark cloud started forming in my mind. Was this becoming a repeat performance of last year, despite all the changes I had made? Teresa and James were waiting for me with big smiles, a big cheer and a sweet coffee. We had a family hug, they topped up my drinks bottles, gave me some coke and poured cold water on my neck buff and hat. This is a brilliant cooling trick used by racers in the Marathon des Sables - and I want to thank Dean Baker (multiple finisher of that event) for passing on this valuable tip. This emotional boost from my crew lifted my spirits back up – it was far too early to be feeling like this!
Part 2 – CP2 (22 miles) to CP7 Washington (54 miles):
On went the iPod, out came the running poles, later referred to as “The Kilian Drive”, and, bolstered by my crew’s support, I sprang back to life. The cold water treatment had cooled me down and I knew that I would need to keep on top of that. The coffee and coke had also kicked in nicely – I was super-charged. This was a bit more like it!
I know that area of the course very well and so was able to push harder through to CP3 Harting Downs (27 miles). Last year this section seemed to last forever, this year it flew past. A quick top up, re-soaking, and away, pushing hard across to CP4 Cocking (35 miles) arriving an hour faster than last year. This was much better – solid effort yielding proper rewards and is just the sort of race psychology that helps keep you motivated. It was at this point in the race that I realised that all the changes I had made to my preparation were showing strong signs of improvement.
The crew car met me here, with a smile and a hug from Teresa and James. A formula one style refuel and change of tyres, I mean trainers, and I was away again. These next sections would be tough as I had 19 miles to go before getting to Washington and seeing the crew again. There are two CPs in between but are both on top of huge hills and the course heads a long way down prior to starting the climb up each of them. You certainly get what it says on the tin with this race – a lot of
hills. The upshot would be that, when at Washington, the whole crew would be there and Jon would be joining me as my pacer and Natasha would be extra crew car support.
The weather changed through this section bringing very welcome rain showers, and then changed again bringing back intense sun along with a less than welcome degree of humidity. I had adjusted to this by now and soon arrived at CP5 Bignor Hill (42 miles). A quick pit-stop here and some delicious home-made apple cake, (made by one of the aid station volunteer’s daughter,) and away again.
Across the river at Amberley, just outside of Arundel and onto the long, long climb up to CP6 Kithurst Hill (50 miles) – feeling much stronger than last year and holding a good and consistent pace. A question was growing in my mind at this point that I was desperately trying to ignore ...
“This is going very well, but how much longer can you hold this kind of output and are the wheels going to come off in dramatic style?”
This is what I mean about mental strength being so essential when running these sorts of distances. Here I was doing pretty damn well as far as I was concerned and yet part of me was almost willing things to go wrong. Well, I was having none of it, having long ago learned how to control this sort of ridiculous thinking. If the negative monkey on the shoulder was coming along on this jaunt it had best put on its running shoes and do some bloody work of its own – NO PASSENGERS TODAY!
I had some great tunes banging out on the iPod and really should at this point take the opportunity to apologise to all who heard my terrible singing. 70’s prog-rock being banged out by me could not have been a great thing to listen to! However, it all helped and, almost before realising it, I was dropping off the hills and into Washington. I knew this next CP was significant. Last year I sat alone trying to get myself sorted out for the second half of the race and for the night section, while watching other racers’ crews help them. That was difficult. That started to break my spirit ...
Part 3 – CP7 (54 miles) to CP9 Saddlescombe Farm (67 miles):
This year it would be different! Teresa, James, Natasha and Jon were all outside ready to meet me and their smiles and cheers lifted me even higher than I already was. This was good, really good!
Inside the aid station it was formula one pit crew time again. Hot food and lots of drinks appeared. My running bottles were topped up and a spare bottle was provided by Natasha to replace one that had bounced out of the back of my pack earlier – fantastic bit of crew work, as I hadn’t even asked.
I changed trainers again and took a bit of time to sort out a particularly problematic blister on the side of my foot. I discovered at this point just how squeamish Jon is in relation to blisters as he had to quickly turn away having already gone as white as Casper the Ghost! I also taped up a few other foot pains, and this proved to be a really good move. Spending an extra ten minutes engaged in this sort of body maintenance would save a lot of time later in the race and could, in worst case, prevent a DNF from happening.
I had made a point, as per my race plan, of not stopping for long in the CPs, with a couple of exceptions. The main exception was Washington as I knew I would need some proper refuelling ahead of the night section and some degree of body maintenance. I also knew that from this point onwards and all the way through to the end that I would have Jon with me as my Pacer. Jon’s prime directive was to ensure I finished inside of the 30 hour cut-off, no matter what. No pressure there then!!!!
Jon made it abundantly clear, before we had even left Washington village, that he had not signed up for a 46 mile walk. I would therefore be expected to run, in order to bank time, for as much of the remainder of the course as possible. He would keep me motivated and would basically think for me. Oh and by the way, don’t be using the lame excuse about having already run 54 miles already!!!!
So, with that in mind, I was clearly not in for a nice easy second half, he was going to drive me hard all the way, bloody power crazed maniac!
The climb out of Washington up to Chanctonbury Ring (whole range of jokes about that name available upon request) just keeps on giving. This was a strange blessing in disguise though as it allows you some time to get your body moving again and your thoughts in order. By the time we reached the tree ring we had, almost un-noticed by me, started running again and quickly covered the section through to CP8 Bottolphs (61 miles). The Team were meeting us just outside the CP so we checked in and passed through without stopping. As we crossed the road and ran towards the waiting team we could see they we all waving large pieces of paper with .... Team GUC emblems on and were all cheering loudly. This made me laugh and gave me another real boost. I really love these guys, they are the best team ever.
A brief stop for a swig or two of coke and a quick water top up and we hit the hills again. This was going to be a long climb, but we had done it so often in training, and in running the SDW50, that it has become second nature. We got up it pretty well but I will admit that that was the point when the real fatigue started to hit me hard – and it never really left throughout the rest of the race.
At the top we broke out the head torches. I thought mine was pretty good, it is powerful and gives a good amount of diffuse light. Then Jon broke out the behemoth – a head torch whose beam was literally setting fire to the grass at our feet! I was genuinely worried that small aircraft would have thought they were almost at Shoreham airport and would try making their final approach on us!
We descended and then climbed back out of Fulking Escarpment at which point we had to cross a field of cows. Cows – generally docile and domesticated livestock with very little excitement attached to them .... Until you try sneaking past them at night when they have calves! For whatever reason the herd got the jitters and a number of them went on the move – right where we were. The problem here is that these cows were quite dark coloured, at night, with no other light about and they don’t play fair by wearing head torches of their own. Suddenly I became aware that I had a cow charging straight for me and only a few feet away ....
Now – after 60+ miles you think you are tired. You think your body has got stiff and unresponsive. You think your brain has gone into semi-sleep mode. Well, let me make this very clear – with all that in mind, when you suddenly have several stone of Sunday roast charging at you in a very pissed off maternal state you find that you can move suddenly, quickly and highly evasively. And yes, adrenaline does have a funny smell to it ....
Once we had evaded imminent death by angry meal we decided to put best foot forward and get to the next meeting point with the team, just outside of CP9. We soon got there and recounted our tale – horrified looks all round! I took this opportunity to top up some sugar and to take five minutes in order to settle down again. This next section was important – this next section had a very large demon waiting for me.
But I was ready – that bastard was going down this time, and it was going down hard!
Part 4 - CP9 (67 miles) to Eastbourne Sports Track (100 miles):
Having just topped up outside of the CP, we just clocked in, said hi and then ran straight through. I was in no mood to delay the mental and physical fight that I knew was just a few moments away.
We quickly hit West Hill – the scene of last year’s cataclysmic failing. I climbed to the exact point it all went wrong, and yes, it is burned upon my brain with terrifying location accuracy, and pushed past. I was not going to stop until I got to the gate at the top of the hill. I had imagined what I was going to say and do when I got past this point, but when it came to it I just swore to myself and was relieved I had passed that section. We ran on down the hill and worked our way across the A23, across Pyecombe golf course and on to CP10 Clayton Windmills (70 miles). I was now in officially uncharted mileage territory – I had never run this far before, and it felt good.
The guys at the CP had put in a fantastic amount of effort with mad lighting all around the CP and all of them wearing flashing mohawks! You’d need to have seen it to get the picture, but it was a great way of making people smile – it certainly worked for me.
We didn’t stay long, despite the time of year, you get cold quickly if you’re not moving – probably due to a complete lack of fuel in my reserves. We pushed up the hill and on towards Ditchling Beacon car park where we met by the crew car team. Lots of warm hugs and smiles and a general fuel top up and they sent us on our way. Seriously – if Scuderia Ferrari are looking for new formula 1 pit crew they would do well to talk to these three heroes.
This is can be quite a long section, it certainly is on the SDW50. But by breaking it up with the Clayton Windmills CP and with the crew meet at the car park it seemed to go much quicker. But each mile now was becoming much harder and I could feel every one of the last 70+ miles in my system. I realised just how much I was digging in and also how little reserve I had left in the tanks. Very soon I would be moving using nothing more than will power at this rate! Just as well I am the most bloody-minded stubborn bastard that I know then.
We dropped down the final hill of the section to meet the car crew again just outside CP11 Housedean Farm (76 miles), just under a marathon left to go. I was properly flagging by this time and Teresa literally had to hold me upright for a bit. We left them quickly and went into the CP to check in and to get a coffee, which helped enormously. Funny how you latch on to the little details – the CP team had brought cherries, great antioxidants, and a real treat. There were only a couple left, but one of the ladies shot off into her store in the back and brought back a real handful. This really made me feel happy – just to see cherries and kindness together. Couldn’t help feel sorry for the guy asleep in a chair wrapped up in space blankets like a baked potato – that was clearly his race over!!!
We left and pushed up the long climb to get us onto the section leading to Southese. This is a bugger of a climb when you are fresh, but after 76 miles it felt like the north face of the Eiger! The miles slowly ticked by and we found ourselves in another field full of cows and calves. Spooked by our earlier encounter we quickly passed through, thankfully without incident. An interesting point to note is that in this field is a finger post that points out the Western Hemisphere and the Eastern Hemisphere – because you cross the Greenwich Meridian. I knew this was a long race, but to cross from one half of the world to the other, I mean ...., sheesh!!!!
We dropped from the hill into the valley, along the horrible broken concrete farm track and then crossed down into Southese itself. We ran along the road, albeit it not very quickly, and into CP12 Southese (84 miles). So, twelve CPs down and only two to go, and then the sport track behind the DGH Hospital. So, only two to go eh? Sounds like you’ve almost made it until you consider that that
still represents another sixteen miles and three very tough hills. Jon pointed out, in that terribly realistic and candid way of his, that Southese to Alfriston is generally considered the crux position on this course. If a late section of the race is going to stop you, it’ll be this next one. Oh goody ....
We were able to meet the car crew again at this point and they made sure we were well stocked up and fed before heading out again. We didn’t need torches now as daylight had returned, so I repacked mine into my race pack and Jon dumped his in the car. I couldn’t dump mine as the torches are considered mandatory race equipment from Washington onwards. I was not going to get to the end of this race only to fail at the last on a mandatory kit infringement. Hell no!!!
We took the long, slow walk up and over the top to Firle Bostal car park where the car crew once again met us with cheers and smiles and hugs. They made sure they saw us as often as possible in that second half of the race, often just there to give you a smile and a hug. The difference it makes when you’ve been going for so long cannot be easily quantified. Every mile now was becoming exponentially harder and I will admit I was struggling badly. On the way up the hill out of Southese Jon had turned to find me ground to a halt with my head on my running poles almost asleep. Because of this he kept a very watchful eye on me now and constantly made sure I was being suitably motivated – by hook or by crook!
We eventually reached the point of the course where the track descends from the hills down in Alfriston and found the crew car had made the jump again and were ready for us. I staggered to the car and very nearly dropped – again being caught by Teresa and gently guided so that I could sit in the back of the boot. The magic that is Ambrosia Rice Pudding was applied, along with more coke and it pretty instantly lifted me. We took a few minutes to get ourselves together and then pushed on to the official CP, CP13 Alfriston (91 miles).
On arriving at the CP I got a coffee and grabbed some mini sausage rolls – bloody hell they went down well. At which point I got asked a simple question by one of the aid station volunteers. My reaction must have looked like she asked me if I wanted every bit of literature there is on Quantum Mechanics! I stared blankly at her and just said (probably quite bluntly – which is unforgivable) NO! What she actually asked me was did I want a plate of hot baked beans. Why the hell was that such a difficult question and why the hell did I act like a complete arse? To that poor volunteer I offer my sincere and humble apologies.
We left the CP before I could cause any other problems only to be met with a course diversion. Normally you would cross the white bridge and then take a left across the fields to the bottom of the climb up Long Man. But, no, the bridge was closed for essential maintenance – hardly surprising after the winter where Alfriston briefly changed its name to Atlantis!!!!
No instead we had to cross a field on this side of the river – a field complete with FIVE BLOODY STYLES!!!!!! Not wanting to lose any of the precious memories, Jon was kind enough to take photos of me trying to cross the styles. He was also kind enough to laugh heartily at my pain, misery and suffering – total bastard!!!!
Eventually we made it across the field, turned onto the lane, and limped along to the bottom of the climb up and over Long Man. Last time Jon and I got here we ran all the way up and over the top and down in Jevington without stopping. A tough, but enjoyable, training run. Jon suggested we do the same again as the precedent had very much been set. I invited Jon to piss off at this point. Think I was experiencing the first stages of a monumental sense of humour failure.
After what felt like a week ....., we eventually made the top only to find a large herd of cows all across the path. They seemed quite a feisty set of cows too, and, rather unusually for cows had no udders .... Holy shit, this was a group consisting largely of young bullocks! They instantly took exception at our sudden crashing of the party and got themselves all fired up – properly, complete with stamping and snorting. We had to get out of their way quickly but had nowhere to go, other than down a slope towards a fence, and the little buggers were starting a pincer movement. I had nothing left in me, this was not going to go well. If we were charged I had no way of escape, and neither did Jon. During this time two other runners had sneaked around the back of them and had made it through the gate and onto the next track the other side of the fence. Some of the bullocks saw them and charged off towards the fence in a very vocal and agitated state. Thankfully the bullocks near us decided to join in and this gave us a chance to get back on the main path, through the gate and out to safety. These buggers were genuinely malevolent and I do wonder how a farmer would stand legally if someone was attacked, on a public path crossing a National Park that the farmer had allowed his psychopathic bullocks to roam on?
Never mind – we had escaped, but I had hurt my foot trying to climb back onto the main path and could barely limp now. I was not happy. In fact I was proper miffed ....
We limped along as best we could and eventually made the drop down to the final CP, CP14 Jevington (95.5 miles). The check in person was waiting outside and I was eternally grateful as this CP has far too many steep steps up and back down again to be tempting. As such we pushed on down the hill looking for the left turn up the last hill. And there, unknown to me, were the car crew – one last time, the final hurrah. I cannot begin to explain just how much this lifted me, and I set off for the last hill with grim determination.
Every fibre of my body was hurting but no power on earth was going to stop me finishing this. I took the long, slow climb up the hill out of Jevington and kept looking at the top. Evey step that passed seemed to take me no nearer, but I knew it was. Little by little we inched forward until we made it to the trig point and met two race marshals who were stationed there to ensure that every racer could find the gulley that descends back into Eastbourne. I was SO glad to see them!!!
We dropped into the gulley, a rocky and slippery final insult to the body that is ready to trip you at every turn. Jon made sure I took this slowly and carefully because to fall and hurt yourself badly at this point would be a really stupid own goal, and I don’t even play football for Brazil .....
We made it to the road section – less than two miles to go. I was determined not to walk all of this – I was tired and hurting and I wanted to get finished. We did the tried and tested run, walk, run between various features along the way – junctions, hedges and road signs. We reached the hospital entrance and turned down the final path. Every time I run that path it seems to get longer. I reckon some rotten bugger had been out over-night extending it by a couple of miles!
And then ...., there it was. That long dreamed about moment where I emerge from the final path and cross the car park to enter the track via the side gate. My crew were there waiting, my friends were there waiting and the race organisers were there waiting (although for other people too of course!). They saw me and up went the cheers. I saw and heard them and out came the tears – I had finally got here and had just 400m left to go. Jon stayed with me all around the track until the last corner – constantly motivating me and telling me what I was about to achieve. Some of it I heard, some of it was lost in my breathing trying to choke back the tears.
The finish line gantry was there – I had less than 10 steps to do. There was no final sprint, there was no triumphant roar at finally succeeding. I crossed the line and drifted to a stop. Nici Griffin (senior
Centurion super star) came up to congratulate me, to give me a hug and to tell me that I had officially completed the South Downs Way 100 MILE trail run in a whisker over 28 hours. Then Teresa was there, with tears in her eyes, and rushed up to hug me. I tried to say something but that was the moment when I could no longer hold it together and literally collapsed on her sobbing my heart out. After all that had happened last year, I had finally come back and conquered my demons and achieved what I set out to achieve.
I grabbed James and Natasha and Jon and just about everyone else I could – I was SO happy. I then met Marvellous Mimi Anderson – Ultra Running Royalty – who presented me with the coveted 100 mile buckle and the race tee-shirt with the complete SDW map on the back.
I had done it, the Phoenix had risen from the ashes of defeat and I had become a Centurion. That will go down in history as one of the proudest days of my life.
Thank you:
No great achievement would be complete without recognising and thanking those closest to me and to Project Phoenix and Team GUC.
- To James Elson and the team at Centurion Running - for laying on these gold star trail ultra- running events.
- To the aid station volunteers, course markers, medics and sweepers – without who these events would never happen.
- To Susie Casebourne, Tim Cox and Dave Palmer – for all their help, encouragement, advice and general camaraderie in the months, weeks, days, hours and minutes leading up to the race.
- To Dean Baker – for the hot weather advice regarding having a wet buff ... oo er missus!!
- To Paul Holdaway – for the genuinely horrible core and flexibility classes. You took my
custard-like core muscles and made them strong enough to transport me 100 miles. You
ignored all my bleating and moaning and just made me get on with it!!!
- To Janine Pay – for your other-worldly ability to repair and recondition my body in between
training events and races. You worked your magic so that not once did my back or hips threaten to kill my race dead in its tracks – genuinely remarkable!!!!
And now the extra special thanks:
- To Natasha and Jon Fielden for their time, commitment, dedication to planning, training and crewing this event. The selfless use of their time is true testament to the type of people they are. You will always have my gratitude and I hope, one day, to be able to repay your kindness.
- To James Bennett whose unwavering belief in his dad kept me going through the long periods of training, through the dark times of self-doubt and through every step of the race. Every time he saw me in the race he hugged me and told me how proud he was of me. I hope I have inspired you to achieve you goals son?
- And finally to my wonderful wife Teresa. Your unshakeable belief in me and support of all I do has forever been my rock. I could not do any of this without you, I simply couldn’t.
Journey’s end ....., until next time!