Race Report : The Winter 100

Kit check and registration

This past weekend was Centurion's Winter 100 event starting and finishing in Goring-on-Thames.  A quaint little village in leafy Oxfordshire that is the meeting point of two national trails, the Thames Path and the Ridgeway, providing a perfect location for this 100 mile endurance event.  

But before I get stuck in to the details of the weekend, I thought I'd change things around a little.  Almost every blog post I write, I end up saying thank you to a load of people right at the end, last and not least my ever present wife, Nikki.  So I thought it was high time I dedicated a little more [digital] ink and put some more effort in to the thank yous up front.  

Nikki gave up another valuable weekend to support me through what ended up being a particularly tough event. Not only was she there to help fetch, carry, etc before and during the event but even more so afterwards, when I was doing my very best John Wayne impression.  As if that wasn't enough, she also volunteered at the start/finish doing the timings for all the runners coming in and out during most of the day and night, putting in, I'm guessing an 18-20 hour shift.  So from me and I'm sure the rest of the Centurion family, thank you Nikki for everything, especially this past weekend.

And back to the race...which was slated to be a very, very wet day according to the forecasters.   At kit-check at 7am on Saturday morning, it was drizzling and the BBC and Yahoo weather were predicting heavy rain from about 10am right the way through to 4pm.  As I headed back to the hotel after collecting my number (#3), Nikki and I headed down to breakfast overlooking the Thames as the drizzle and cloud cover continued to build.  As an aside and although a little pricy, the Swan in Streatley/Goring is a very nice location if you fancy a weekend away somewhere with your significant other.

The start of the race was just up the road from Goring Village Hall, to prevent 150 runners having to cross the main road without causing traffic issues.  This was the same start point as the previous years and so very familiar to the majority of people running.  After the short briefing in the hall, we all headed up to the start line with about 10 minutes or so to spare.  At this stage I was keen to ensure I was near the back of the field to prevent getting too giddy and tearing off far too fast and killing myself in the first few miles.  

Handing over my wavier in case of death

The hooter went off and I was perfectly positioned in the back 3rd as we set off on the first of four 25 mile sections, each of them a 12.5 mile out and back.  This section heads North on the Thames Path snaking it's way through beautiful Oxfordshire.  I had a time of 4 hour 20 minutes in my head for this loop and was very happy to arrive at the turn around point in 2 hours 10 minutes almost exactly.  This checkpoint had 2 of the most wonderful food items on offer, hard boiled eggs (with salt to dip in) and some kind of rice and egg wrapped in breadcrumbs which were divine (I need the recipe if anybody has this).

The rain was holding off which was great and the return leg to Goring went by really quickly.  I stopped at CP3 for a top up of water.  I'd been getting through a lot of it but the weather was really hot considering it was October; the humidity levels must have been very high indeed.  I had to keep my pace in check as I passed a few people on this return leg I'd seen earlier and knew to be quicker than me.  I was determined to try and keep my pace steady and not go too fast too soon.  This appeared to be working as I returned to the Goring CP in 4 hours 30 minutes...nearly bang on schedule.

After a quick hello with the wife, I picked up the map for the next section on the Ridgeway and got out of dodge, whilst wolfing down a couple of peanut butter sandwiches and topping up my bottles and changing my shirt.  This was one thing I'd not expected to have to do but I was soaked to the skin from sweat and so I switched to my spare top to prevent getting cold later on.

The second out and back is along the Ridgeway, which tracks North up the Thames (on the opposite side to the first spur) before heading off East towards the turn around point at Swancombe.  There is an early CP at North Stoke around mile 29, where I bumped into Steve and had a quick natter before heading out again in to what felt like a mid-Summers day, although considerably overcast.  The longer section out to the Swancombe CP went quite well, walking quickly on the up hills and jogging all the flats and downhills, I was keeping to schedule.  

The bling

With 4 out and back spurs, the Winter 100 gives you a unique insight into the condition of the runners whom I would not normally see during a race; the speedy guys and gals at the front of the pack.  This is wonderful to see and helps you appreciate that they are human too and go through good times and bad over the 100 mile sections.  That said, without fail, everybody running in the opposite direction to me, put on a smile and said hello and passed on some level of congratulations or encouragement.  This is what makes this sport so much fun. The people are just fantastic without any elitism or egos getting in the way.

At Swancombe I tried to be quick, top up the bottles, grab some food and a cuppa tea and get out of the door again.  It was nice to see another friendly face again, with some words of encouragement from Paul Corderoy although briefly.  The return leg to North Stoke seemed quicker mainly due to being slightly more downhill than the outward journey I suspect.  I had hoped to get back to the North Stoke CP before needing my head torch but it wasn't to be and I had to stop about a mile out to put on my light.  Another cuppa sugary tea, a cheese sandwich and some abuse from Steve and I was on the last 4 miles in to Goring.  It was at this point I felt a little twinge on the outside of my right knee, a light pain I'd never felt before.  I took a couple of walking breaks and it appeared to ease and I thought no more of it.

Arriving in to Goring again at the 50 mile mark, I was 9 hours 45 minutes in and bang on schedule.  I'd allowed myself 10 hours for the first 50 and 14 hours for the back half, which I knew I'd be slower on and I'd hoped I could get in under the 24 hour barrier.  A wonderful welcome awaited me as I entered the hall with  Nikki, James Elson, James Adams and my pacer for the next 25 miles, the infamous John Volanthen, all there to pat me on the back and tell me how well I was doing.  At this stage of the race, I actually felt better than I've ever felt before 50 miles in.  No stomach issues, no real fatigue other than expected, I was ready to get the back half of the race completed.  

I gave Nikki (and James Elson) a peck of the cheek goodbye and headed out with John for another 25 miles along the Ridgeway, this time heading West out of Goring.  This section is uphill to begin with, nothing too steep but the pathway along here is cut up in places due to it being a Byway, it gets cars and bikes along the track which really doesn't do it much good in my view.  As we headed out of town I'd said to John about my knee giving me a bit of jip and how a good walking break up the hills would probably really help.  We jogged a few of the downhills but otherwise continued a fast-ish (4 mph?) walking pace as we put the world to rights.  I think a few people caught us on this outward journey as my pace continued to tail off and my knee pain got worse.  

At the turnaround point I think I knew I was done for but John kept me in good spirits and we headed off back towards Goring.  The wind was picking up and we got a bit of rain although the temperature never really dropped off and it was unusually warm.  After passing through the CP and seeing Ultra Chicken (again) my knee got worse and John ended up fashioning a crutch for me from a tree branch.  This helped quite a bit although my co-ordination was somewhat out of whack as I couldn't figure out if the crutch should go in my left or right arm and which foot I should move it with.  It reminded me of being a kid and trying to pat your head with one hand and rubbing circles on your stomach with your other...(you can stop trying it now).

I can't have been a very chatty patient at this stage, 3am and almost 75 miles in, I knew I was done for but John was ever positive and told me to think only of the CP @ Goring.  This I tried to do but I did have to keep stopping as the pain was considerable, even after taking a few aspirin.  As we dropped off the Ridgeway on to the road, the downhill caused a lot of pain and I slowed even more and at one point considered quitting and asking John to call the medic to come and get me.  With some determination I kept going and got to the CP, hobbling in with my stick to a somewhat downbeat Nikki and James and my next victim (a.k.a pacer), Tim Lambert.  

I changed shoes, took on some water and after 10 minutes or so Tim and I set off out the door with me hobbling along very slowly.  The first 50 miles had taken me less than 10 hours, yet the section from 50 to 75 miles had taken me 8 hours and I'd dropped significantly in the overall standing.  I still had plenty of time to get out to Reading and back inside the 30 hour cutoff but I was now not sure I could tolerate another 8-10 hour painful walk.  After going no more than about 400 metres I told Tim enough was enough and I'd have to call it a day.  I knew in my head and my heart that this was the right decision.  Right at this time I wasn't sure what was causing the pain and I didn't want to continue to aggravate something that would put me out for a long period.

At mile 75 with my LOTR stick

With that, Tim told me it was probably the right call and we headed back in to the hall and called it a night.  I was angry of course but I know I wasn't let down by a lack of preparation or fitness and I was mentally in the perfect place, in fact I'd go as far as to say I was in a better position than I'd ever been in before.  My body had just decided that enough was enough and I needed to stop, which I dutifully did.

My sincere thanks go out to John and Tim for their help.  I know first hand pacing isn't always fun and the 8 hour walk John ended up with must have been challenging to remain positive for.  Tim, my apologies for dragging you from Bath to Goring for an 800 metre walk.  I promise to ensure you get a full outing next time.  For there really will be a next time, certainly I'm in for the Winter 100 in 2015 but I suspect they'll be another event in the calendar beforehand that will need a good pacer for.

Finally I wanted to thank James Elson for his support this year.  I've found his advice and friendship to be motivational and without which I'm sure I wouldn't be at this level of physical or mental fitness.  If anybody is looking for a coach, talk to James, you won't regret it!

Pre Race Report : Winter 100

John with his weird re-breather stuff

Ok, so it's been awhile since I've posted a blog entry, mainly because it's been pretty quite and also because secretly I've not had much to talk about since my failure at the UTMB CCC in late August.  In fact I didn't even write up a race report as I was so annoyed at dropping out at mile 18; by not writing a report, it clearly didn't happen, right?

Anyway, now there is something else to talk about, a new challenge and certainly my biggest yet.  This weekend I will attempt my first 100 mile event called the Winter 100. I'm mentally prepared for this to hurt big style, as well as tax me mentally but only time will tell how much it will really hurt.  The weather looks awful but I know lots of people completing the event as well as the volunteers around the place, who I know will spur me along, including the Ultra Chicken himself.

If that wasn't enough, I've also got two good friends coming along for the ride.  They both offered to pace a 25 mile section with me; in fact they almost insisted upon it.  I'm sure most runners find it hard to find pacers willing to put themselves out and give up a perfectly good weekend to run 25 miles in the muddy, wet English countryside.  Not I! I've got them queuing up around the corner to offer their services, although I think it's fair to say, they all want to see me suffer more than they want to help me cross the finish line.

The Ginger Princess

I'm excited and apprehensive about what tomorrow will bring.  So what happens when an ex-fatty, a caveman and a ginger princess head off to run 100 miles?  Well you'll have to come back next week to find out!

Oh and if I don't make it through this weekends exploits, please do not believe anything Tim Lambert writes about me.  He is a compulsive liar and holds some kind of grudge over me after I wrote an honest and open account on the experiences of pacing him through his first 100 miler earlier this year.  Some would say I was too honest but what would they know, they probably all vote for the Liberal party.

Pacing the ginger whinger at the North Downs Way 100

Before you reply to complain about the title of this post, I'm married to a ginger and have nothing against the majority of you! Tim Lambert on the other hand deserves everything he gets (& more) when it comes to his gingerness.

This past weekend was the North Downs Way 100; a little 102.8 mile jaunt from Farnham in Surrey to Wye in Kent along some beautiful and somewhat hilly terrain. I say somewhat hilly as I've recently been exposed to running (a.k.a. walking) in the Alps and so everything is now relative; what was once a mountain has become a tiny hill in comparison. 

The North Downs Way 100 Route

I digress. The plan for the weekend was to support Mr Lambert during his second attempt at the 100 mile distance, having bailed at the same event in 2013, this years was surely to be his year. He was prepared mentally as well as physically, with a plan to ease in to the first 50 so that he had enough in reserve to push on through the night and if needs be come in right inside the 30 hour cutoff. 

With kit checked (by my good self no less) and registration sorted, Tim and Solange rested up in readiness for the 6am start on Saturday morning. Nikki and I were helping out at registration Friday night and again Saturday morning. There was a slight change of plan at 0345 as some of the course needed marking, so I grabbed my kit and headed out to Newlands Corner. This meant that I missed the start of the race and Tim missed out on the much needed ginger abuse he should have received.

Arriving at Newlands, I bumped in to James and Eddie who had come out to help mark the course. They put in a good effort marking 0.2 miles under extremely tough conditions. The aid station was up and the front runners were expected within the hour and Nikki and Solange turned up having seen the start, so we waited for the arrival of His Royal Gingerness. During this time I decided I'd run far enough already to warrant starting the Centurion Volunteer Eat Your Own Bodyweight In Aid Station Food Ultramarthon. This is a tough event and something I excel at but in order to prevent me leaving the aid station heavier than when I arrived I decided to walk down the course to watch Tim's arrival and to cheer on the other runners.

Tim arrived on track, looking fresh, as you would hope at mile 14 with quite a few left to go. I walked in to the aid station with him, we filled his bottles and got him some food and sent him on his way. Solange, Nikki and I saw most of the running pack through before heading to the midway point at Knockholt to prepare the aid station and double check some of the markings around the aid station approach. 

Nikki and Solange disappeared for their morning run whilst I ran around another few miles of the course verifying the course markings and putting up some extra bits of tape and signs to direct the runners off the North Downs Way and down in to Knockholt Pound, along the road and in to the village hall. At this point of the race (~50 miles) the runners picked up their first (of two) drop bags and were provided with hot food. Tim was due in for another few hours and so I disappeared to get an hours sleep in the back of the car.

After 1.5 hours sleeping in the back of the car, I got my kit together and went back in to help out at the aid station. Runners were arriving thick and fast now with Tim expected at anytime. He arrived to the cheering of Solange & Nikki who, for some reason, were happy to see him. I on the other hand knew this meant it could be the start of a very long run through the night with his ginger ass, so was less than impressed with his arrival. 

Our plan had been for me to be ready to jump in at mile 50 if he was feeling rough but if not, I was to jump in at mile 60 and complete the rest of the distance. So with a presumptive close, I said to Tim "You are looking good, I'll see you at mile 60". And with that, we sent him on his way having fed and watered him. Excellent, I'd just saved my poor little legs 10 miles, wonderful news indeed. Next stop for me was the next aid station. Luckily I managed to get a lift from a very kind chap, Peter, who was crewing for his son that was also running, apologies for not remembering his name but thank you again, Peter. 

The course markings on the approach to the Wrotham CP weren't that clear upon our arrival, so I popped back down the road to the junction and marked it up to ensure everybody knew where to go. As per Steve's blog, it appeared as if the course markings were being tidied up by some people as this had been marked a few times already that day. Needless to say, it was soon rectified and I was back in the aid station awaiting the arrival of Tim. Luckily I was assigned cow bell duties which along with the riveting conversation from Steve and Mimi helped the time pass quickly.

Just as dusk was settling in, Tim arrived and for our 42 mile journey in to the night to begin. Settling into a steady walking pace out of the aid station, we soon caught up with another runner who laughed as we missed almost the first turn we had to make. Both Tim and I were too busy chatting and had barely left the aid station and we'd made a mistake.

Tim after finding out he had another 26 miles to go

The next CP was only 5.5 miles away and I thought we'd try and get some miles under our belt while the light was still with us and before the rain set in. Tim had other plans and wanted to sit down at every bench we came upon. Luckily there weren't that many and I had to chivvy him along and in to the CP, which happened to be Santa's Grotto. This of course is pure evil for the runners who now aren't sure if they are seeing things or there really are a load of people in a tent in the countryside in August dressed as Elves and Santa himself. I didn't see the need to reassure Tim it was safe to sit on Santa's knee and accept whatever presents he gave him.

It was lovely to see John (again) and Richard but we had some miles to cover and so Tim was pulled from his perch and made to shuffle along into the woods. It was at this point I discovered he is a big ginger wuss who is afraid of running in the woods at night, as if there is some boogie man about to jump out and get him. I tried my best to hold back on laughing out loud but just couldn't help myself as I decided it would be funny to switch off my head torch and wind him up. This wasn't well received and so I only did it 47 more times.

The food and drink from the aid station must have revived him as we ran quite a lot of the next section, through the woods on the final long 11 mile stretch to the next CP. We overtook and got overtaken by the same few runners as we slowed on some sections and were faster on others. When we walked I told Tim to slot in behind me and I'd stick to a 4mph pace so we were covering decent ground and we'd run all the downhill sections. I would shout out about holes, slippy terrain, sticks, stones, and dead bodies but would rarely get a reply that was coherent. This was a little concerning and so I kept looking around to ensure Tim was behind and hadn't decided to hole up at the side of the trail for a kip.

On this section Tim notified me his blisters were really playing up and that he'd need to get them seen to at the next CP. I told him we should stop immediately and get them fixed so we didn't slow down too much. This was the first of 3 or 4 times when I had to sit him down, remove his shoes & socks and touch his rotting smelly blister covered ginger haired toes that even an Ogre would be ashamed of. After a few minutes of applying plasters and taping his feet, I pulled him to his feet and we set off running again whilst he felt like a new man. The 5 minutes after each occurrence of this throughout the night were the best moments for me as the whinge factor would be reduced by an order of magnitude; pure bliss!

Arrival at Bluebell Hill brought Tim to mile 76.2 and I pointed out to him we were now on the home straight with less than a quarter of the distance to go. His retort was that he still had a bloody marathon to run and he was, to use a technical term "fooked". The rain had started as we arrived at the CP and the tent was full to the rafters with runners and pacers alike, all trying to find somewhere dry to replenish their weary bodies with energy. We plonked ourselves down and were well looked after with bottles filled, tea served and food provided. Tim also grabbed some lube for his nether regions, another part of his body I'd heard (a couple of times) was causing him immense discomfort. As his blog post confirms, I escaped having to apply this for him; all I can say is "Praise the Lord".

As the rain hammered down I ushered Tim to his feet and basically pushed him out of the tent. We had work to do and sitting inside a warm tent wasn't going to get us to the finish line. The very kind volunteers helped point us in the right direction and warned us of some fairly slippery bits of trail to watch out for. Next stop was Detling just under 6 miles away, where hot food, a change of shoes (for Tim) and a physiological barrier. These few miles the weather was at its worst and with our slowing pace Tim added feeling slightly cold to his list of ailments. Tim's feet were hurting again with the blister between his toes causing him a lot of pain and as we approached the aid station I ran ahead to see if the medics could tape them up for him and save me having to do it.

No such luck! Whilst Detling was great to get to, with the friendly face of James Elson and the volunteers, it didn't have a medic and so between myself and a very kind volunteer we applied what we could to Tim's feet and put clean socks on his rotten feet. I'd been carrying these clean socks in my dry bag but there was no way I was going to carry the old ones another 20 miles to the finish line. I was quite pleased when Tim announced that they were going to be binned, phew!

James showed me on the map the next section of the trail and advised me it was a little ugly and to not fret and just walk it and get through the next 4 miles and then it became easier and very runnable. I told Tim this so he didn't try and over do it and get stressed about the time. He'd been building his stress levels quite a lot over the night, worrying about cutoffs and getting to the finish in time. It didn't matter how many times I told him not to fret and to leave the maths to me, I'd get him there and not let him miss a cutoff. This shut him up for about 3.5 minutes, then it was like groundhog day and we'd go around the same loop again and again.

Climbing up out of Detling we were joined by another competitor who was probably quite keen on the company and slotted in behind Tim, who was following me as we made the ascent. The trail goes up and down as it traverses across a few hill sides with lots of steps rather than what would be very steep and slippery tracks otherwise. As we descended these tracks, Tim felt like he was holding up this other competitor and so Tim wanted him to go in front of him. When he was in front of him, Tim complained that he couldn't see me and would I hold up and let this guy go in front of me. Then we'd catch him as he'd slowed, I think he just wanted to follow us but at this point no matter what this guy did, it was wrong in Tim's head. I think I suggested it would be best for him to push on ahead of us as Tim rested on another bench and after this we never saw the guy again. I really hope he made it to the end as it wasn't his fault, or Tim's to be fair, it's just the gremlins of tiredness taking hold and making silly things really annoy you.

Tim arriving at CP12

After the hard Detling miles we started to jog and walk more regularly as the trail turned in to tracks and some road sections. Tim's moaning ebbed and flowed switching between ailment each cycle; interspersed with some of my singing and funny film quotes to try and lighten the mood. None of this worked particularly well, in fact it may have been the reason Tim then decided he felt a little light headed and not really with it. The things he'll say to get me to stop talking! On more than one occasion I would turn around to ensure he was still following me, only to be presented with a full frontal view of him watering the trail. I'm not entirely sure how he's managed to father two children with what I saw and put it down to the huge advancements in medical science we've made in the recent years.

After an uneventful journey towards the penultimate aid station at mile 90, Tim was now getting cold and so in the middle of a field near a farm, I sat him down and dressed him in my waterproofs, buff, gloves and over gloves in order to get him warmed up. I always carry full waterproofs, although I've never used them, but seeing how they helped Tim, I won't stop carrying them on events like this, they really did help him.

Some further taping of feet, biscuits, jelly babies pushed us homewards and soon we arrived at the final CP. I'd run on ahead at this point to grab food and tea (with 6 sugars) so that Tim "didn't have to stop moving". I duly did so although I have to admit to only asking for 3 sugars in his tea. I'm firmly of the belief you can't tell the difference once you get above 3 sugars. Leaving the final CP Tim put in a call to Solange and then his waterworks opened up, luckily this was the upstairs waterworks and not another view of his little fella. It now sunk in, he had 3 hours to get 4.2 miles and there was no way he wouldn't be able to do that.

These next few miles I tried my best to get Tim jogging and he did on occasion but in reality he knew he could walk it and still make it comfortable and so why put himself through any more pain. I have to admit I'd probably be of the same mindset but I was being selfish, with my Suunto battery almost flat I wanted to get to the end before it died. I have to admit I did think about leaving him and jogging on to the end just so Strava would be accurate.

The final few hundred yards of the course brought us in to Wye, through some lovely fields and in to the biggest patch of stinging nettles you've ever seen. Talk about having a sting in the tail at the end of a race! I did my best to try and get Tim to run the final few metres but the railway crossing was down and we were forced to wait it out. I did suggest the bridge but the look I received suggested waiting would be the better option. After the barriers went up, I ran on ahead to the finish to ensure Solange was out and ready to embrace her Ginger Biscuit as he crossed the line.

And with all that moaning and pain behind him, Tim crossed the finished line in 28 hours and 36 minutes. He had made a dream come true and earned himself the buckle he had for so long desired.  The look of joy and relief were obvious to everybody at the finish line and with so many people there to welcome him home made it all the better.  Nikki, James, Stu and others all held back whilst Solange and Tim doused the finish line with tears, hugs and kisses all around.  Nici even shed a few tears I'm told.

After being presented with his buckle, Tim and Solange presented me with my very own medal, a NDW50 medal to represent almost half the route that I'd covered with his royal gingerness.  How wonderfully thoughtful of them both.  I'm truly touched and it will live alongside my other NDW50 medal, until such a time as I'm mental enough to swap the two for an NDW100 mile buckle.

Well done Tim, a truly amazing effort and something you have worked hard to earn.  Most of the above should be taken in a joking way, except for the last couple of paragraphs.  You are an inspirational chap and like I said in my last post, I'm proud to call you my friend.  See you at the Winter 100 for some of get your own back time!

The 100 mile finisher, Mr Tim Lambert!

Race Report : The South Downs Way 50

The first major goal of my 2014 season, a fifty mile race through the wonderful southern counties of Wessex and Sussex along part of the South Downs national trail. In its second year, with the inaugural 2013 event suffering from seriously bad weather, this years forecast looked to be slightly more forgiving to the 320 odd starters (from 400 entrants).

After a short race briefing by James Elson (RD @ Centurion Running) and the mandatory kit checks (expertly overseen by Nici Griffin), we were released into the wilds of the downs at bang on 9am.

My "A" goal was to complete the race sub 9 hours with a "B" goal of sub 10 hours. Both of these times would see a large chunk of time knocked off my 50 PB of 11 hours 27 minutes set at the NDW50 in 2013. So with a race plan in my head and written out on paper in my pocket I set off to hit my goal. Having put in some hard training over the winter months, with the help of James Elson, I felt better prepared than I was for any of my events last year.

The first section of the course loops up and around on to the national trail and includes some single track that I wanted to avoid getting held up on, so I set off a little quicker than my pacing schedule to ensure I was up front for this part. With this section behind me, I settled in to an easy pace of around 9.30 min/miles and enjoyed the rolling trail whilst chatting to some of my fellow runners, including Tim Lambert who I knew from the Social Ultra scene.

The first aid station was around 11 miles in and quite busy when I arrived. I decided to continue on to the next stop at mile 16 before stopping for water and so I cracked on and left Tim to top up his bottle. With a larger field than other races I'd entered, it took longer than expected for the field to thin out and there were still quite a few people around at the second aid station.

I was bang on schedule for my "A" goal and the refuelling was going well. I'd settled on chocolate hobnob biscuits, shot bloks and cashew nuts with the odd s/cap to help with the electrolytes and of course good old water to keep me hydrated. After each aid station was a decent climb, so I took this opportunity to eat as I hiked up the climbs. There was about 10 more miles to the next stop and I knew from past experience these miles are often the darkest moments of the race. Not quite the wall but certainly my body goes through a change around mile 20 that I have to fight my way through.

It was around mile 22 where I got my fuelling wrong and took an extra s/cap which bit me fairly hard and was compounded with some stomach issues probably from too much sugar too early. This prevented me from taking on any more fuel and I started to slow a little, only just hitting the 26 mile aid station on schedule.

The impending second half was not the nicest of feelings and for the next few miles I thought of nothing other than quitting at Southease (33 mile aid station) where Nikki was volunteering. I kept telling myself a DNF was perfectly acceptable, with my excuse slip already filled out with stomach issues, hamstring pain and swollen hands (again). As I slowly approached the aid station, I heard a shout from behind and turned to see Tim approaching with a smile and something like: "I didn't think I'd see you again until the finish"....

That helped turn me around, just seeing somebody who (kind of) knows me, with a smile and some helpful encouragement, spurred me on and I decided there and then quitting wasn't an option. I would get in to Southease, fill up with water, kiss Nikki and get on my way again. And that was exactly what I did, heading up the hill and into the low cloud that was blowing in and threatening perhaps a little rain (which it didn't).

Tim and I climbed this next section together and I'm sure if we'd recorded the conversation we would have sounded like two old women complaining about their latest illness. Him moaning about his feet (he'd cleverly worn zero drop shoes) and me with my stomach/hamstring issues would have provided enough material for at least 2 if not 3 Womens Institute coffee mornings. We discussed the pros and cons of cows with horns, how cool it would be to see a bull with both horns and udders and generally shot the shit about both farmyard animals as well as what a Zebra would do on an ultra (thank you James Adams - apparently he has a book out, who knew!).

As we both had set off with similar goals, we both discussed how the sub 9 hours was slipping away from us and that moving to a sub 10 goal wasn't terrible and still a good finishing time for us given our previous finish times. Getting in to the 41 mile aid station we were both on our 4th or 5th wind (the 2nd wind was used up long ago) and realised we could probably still make the sub 9 hours with about 8 mile left to go and almost 2 hours to do it. I took on some coke and two pieces of mars bar and we set off, but eating was to be my downfall and my stomach issues returned swiftly.

Being the true gentleman that I am, I informed Tim that I didn't want to hold him back and I'd understand completely if he wanted to go on and get his sub 9 in but I didn't think I'd make it. He didn't break stride or say a word to me, he just took off like a Zebra being chased by a cow with horns (not a bull) and that was it, without a by your leave mate, he was gone! Being the bigger man (in all respects) I shed a few tears and then put my head down and powered up the hill and down to the final aid station.

Topping up with a little water and making the final ascent I bumped into a mountain biker coming the other way, swearing under his breath about some ginger runner pushing him off the trail. I paid him no attention and continued to the top where I saw the friendly face of Drew Sheffield who informed me to get my arse in gear and start running. He also informed me Paul had won in 6 hr 11 minutes and that I could make it to the finish in 21 minutes, if I ran as quick as Paul had.

I checked my watch and realised I could still make it, so with a good downhill in front of me, I pushed hard, overtaking a few people on the slippery rocks as I flew (relatively) down into Eastbourne. I saw some familiar faces along the roadside cheering us along as I made my way past the hospital, looping back around the other side and in to the running track. What felt like a 1600 metre track in front of me and with about 2 minutes to go by my watch to get around the final 400 metres, I pushed hard. This is where some of the speed sessions had helped, not so much for the speed but so I knew what the pain would feel like pushing hard over the line (oh and overtaking somebody in the final 100 metres too, sorry!).

It was done! Nothing more I could do about it, now I just needed the official time. Would you believe it?

My time was 09:00:00! Missed the sub 9 by a second but I'd still knocked 2 hours 27 minutes off my PR and I'd had what I'd call a bad day at the office.

What a race....really good fun, made even more special because of the people. The volunteers are amazing, they know how to look after people on and off the course and we couldn't do it without them. Then of course you have the Centurion crew themselves who are the epitome of race organisers, from Nici, Drew, Claire, Alex, Charlie and the rest of the team (apologies for not knowing everyones names) and especially to James Elson. Great job guys and see you at the next one!

If you want to read the other side to this race report, check out the Ginger man's blog over here....