What a way to start the year. 100 miles around the South West Coast path.
Ok, so I'm no stranger to the coast path. I train on it regularly and know the route inside out. My hang up was that I've never run 100 miles before and it felt like a different ball game. Different nutrition plan, different pacing and a whole load more training to fit in. In comparison, I'd been focusing the last year and a bit on improving my pace across the 50k and 50 mile distances, keeping to shorter and faster Ultras to reduce my 50 mile time below the 8 hour mark.
A rather mega training block featured a 50 mile race as a training race to kick start it all (yeah really). Queue the flu which knocked me out for a few days followed by a hasty recoup to catch up on some mileage. I'd managed to maintain my target block of 80 -85 miles per week for six weeks, I'd figured from research on other runners that this would likely hold me in good steed and give me the best chance of completion.
The nerves and self doubt were normal pre a race, but this time I'd felt the added pressure of stepping into the perceived unknown. I felt like a total nervous wreck on race week. Just to add into the mix, the event was now part of the UTMB series with entries more than doubling whilst attracting a whole new audience to the race. Some of the best runners in the UK and Europe were due to toe the line for the race. In truth I'd put too much pressure on myself.
In no time at all we were heading into race week. I'd tapered longer than normally intended as the fatigue build up had felt substantial. Although I felt well rested, the taper nerves kicked in pretty quickly. Had I done enough? Had I stopped too soon? Should I squeeze in one more long run? Yet more self imposed pressure.
Race week was pretty nerve racking, I don't remember actually feeling so nervous for a race before/. I'd tried to keep myself busy to take my mind off it whilst also trying not to do too much. In no time at all I was lining up at the start line of Coverack as part of Wave 1 with around 300 other runners with another 250 still to come in wave 2.
Nice and easy was the plan to start, don't get caught up in the starting rush. As my first 100 miler I had no idea how I would fare over that distance and although a well versed ultra runner, this was different. My absolute dream was to get the sub 24 hour finish time, I hadn't been overly vocal about it because I hadn't want to set myself up to fail. That being said, my crew had my timing plans all set out for a 24 - 25 hour finish to give me an idea of something to aim for. My crew consisted of my partner Jo and friend Darren. A good mix of hopefully brutal honesty, enthusiasm and some compassion with a decent understanding of what drives me. I'll let them decide who's who.
In hind sight, I had massively underestimated the amount of people in this race. In no time at all I was stuck in queues as we climbed some of the more gnarly hills of the first few sections. It had probably played dividence to my later success as it conserved a lot of energy, although at the time it was quite frustrating.
I'd luckily met Nick, someone I knew from a previous race on the first section. We worked quite well together at a similar pace to get into Porthleven before sunset with a few minutes over my plan. The change over was pretty quick with some expert crewing from Darren. A swift change of supplies, socks and re-application of Trench Foot cream before heading out again.
As the darkness crept in the weather worsened and we got battered by some strong winds and a freeing cold, sharp downpour. Fortunately we weren't to far away from Penzance. A bit of faffing happened here to change into leggings and warmer layers whilst trying to smash some warm food as the cold had suddenly crept in. By the time I'd left, I was half an hour behind my plan.
Heading out on to the next leg was going to be interesting as the Mousehole to Porthcurnow sections was particularly picky. It had less of a reputation than Zennor but it was equally deserved in the same mention. The weather was certainly grimmer, colder and windier now too. After a few miles I'd managed to warm up again and I ditched the waterproof trousers before getting into another mega queue along the Lamorna section. I bided my time and just enjoyed a relatively casual pace. The conditions underfoot were terrible, probably the worst I'd seen it along this section of coast path. The rocks were mud covered and the mud itself was deeper than normal. It was difficult to find a dry spot to get any footing. I still felt quite relaxed and sort of assumed the 24 hour mark had probably already slipped out of my grasp. By St Loy and the boulder field I managed to hop around the crowd and made a breakaway from the group with two or three others. We made good speed into the Lands End checkpoint, I hadn't realised it at the time but I was only a few minutes behind my schedule. I made sure I changed all my clothes here and re-applied trench foot cream. I stopped for around 20 minutes to make sure I ate and drank before heading off again just before midnight. My other half Jo had crewed me here. My intention was to stop for a bit longer and I'd banked on her being a bit calmer and slower when I might need it the most as opposed to Porthleven when a quick turnaround was in order.
Somehow I got a second wind. That 20 minutes rejuvenated me and I churned through the miles overnight. I felt more awake in the night than I had all of the race so far. My legs felt good and I felt I could push a bit more. The Zennor sections is notorious. Mud, bogs, scrambling and steep hills, it has it all. It tends to be the section that churns people up the most. I made up nearly 45 minutes in this section and jumped nearly 14 places. The familiarity of this section made it feel comfortable even through the night and the shoes I had picked were perfect for the job. I arrived in St Ives now half an hour ahead of my sub 24 hour plan. Again I stopped for Coffee, coke and some Pizza slices, around 10 minutes max before heading out into the town.
The next section was by far my most dreaded. It's pretty much all tarmac except a small stretch of dunes at Lelant. I only ever remember it sucking everything from me on the Arc 50 last year. I was spurred on by Darren popping his head over a wall and randomly shouting at me "YOU'RE 12th KEEP GOING" It's fair to say he was more excited than I was at this stage. Tiredness had started to creep in but I had it in my head if I could get through Lelant before sunrise, then I'd stand a chance of the sub 24 hours. By the time I got to the road at Hayle my legs were screaming. I could see the rear light of someone ahead of me but it just seemed to go on forever. I eventually caught him as he stopped to let me pass, but my legs felt heavy and I was now struggling to eat anything. I slowed up, letting him pass me again and tried to run on the grass or soft ground where I could find it.
Entering the dunes was a slog. I reduced again to a walk and just tried to grind out the miles to the next aid station. I again overtook the same runner as he opted to follow me through the labyrinth of paths. I pulled away slightly and managed to stagger into the Gwithian checkpoint. Darren met me just outside and tried to give me some encouragement but I was in bits at this stage and I can't even remember what he had said. Jo met in the checkpoint, I opted for a quick turnaround, scoffed a coffee and sorted my feet again as they were damp and pretty disgusting from the Zennor section. I struggled off in the direction of North Cliffs. I kept telling myself this bit should be easy, its my home turf I can run this bit with my eyes closed. I didn't know it at the time but I had somehow pulled back even more time and I was now an hour ahead of the 24 hour goal.
North cliffs felt like it dragged but I plugged away. I now couldn't eat anything. Trying to chew or bite anything solid just wasn't happening, it felt like my jaw had just given up. I managed to sip away at my carb drinks before meeting Jo at the last checkpoint in Portreath. On dipping down into Portreath I had somehow snuck into 10th.I necked another coffee, took a flask of coke and carried on up battery hill. I had suddenly realised I now had 2 hours to make through this 4 mile section. I could definitely do it but I didn't want to leave anything to chance. I pushed up the hill as much as I could to try and get it over with. I knew the next few hill were absolutely brutal but they were the last few. The tiredness in my legs whilst trying to climb out of Sallys Bottom, the notorious stairs to the Porthtowan coast path , was indescribable.
As I rounded the last section of headland I could see two runners the next section ahead of me but they were running in the run direction. I managed to shout and point them the right way as I trotted down the hill behind them. I wasn't even bothered about position, I just wanted to finish. I managed a walk / run out of Porthtowan and then very slowly climbed out of the last hill to the Eco Park. I could hear Darrens voice booming from the top of the hill, Cow Bell ringing again before he shot off to the finish line. I'd all but caught the two runners who were now probably 100 metres ahead of me, I slowed to walk to let them carry on, the finish now was all I cared about. As I crossed the last field I managed to break back into a run and head for the finish line.
22:28:26. Black buckle. I have no idea were I pulled that from. I had absolutely no right to for a first 100 miler.
I could not have done this without the support of Darren and Jo. Not only were they key to implementing the plan, they executed it to perfection. They went above and beyond and popped up in various places to shout and spur me on. Darren being stood on the coast path in the middle of nowhere at 2 in the morning just off Bosigran is one of the most surreal moments I experience, as well as Jo nearly being moved to tears I as entered St Ives, it's almost like she hadn't expected me to survive!
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