South Downs Way 50 miler 2026

 

I mean, the takeaway from this race has to be that it is better to run with others.  As compared to the Chiltern Wonderland where I experienced significant dips due to running entirely alone, during South Downs Way 50 I had no significant dips, and I also, not coincidentally, ran the entire race with a running friend.  

Let's just say that once we got synced up (which took about 5-7 miles at the start), we were on the same page, running downhills nicely, walking the steep uphills, and run/walking the flats to the sound of Dave's watch prompt.

We both used poles, and this was a key factor.  We had a crazy tailwind, a howling gale that at times became a side wind or a headwind, and it had a cooling effect as well.  There was no overheating.  We ate well and we kept our spirits up.

For me, there were no feet issues, and there were no food issues.  I felt a bit nauseous at the end, probably from too many gels (a form of nutrition upon which I tend to lean very heavily).  

The worst part of the course was probably the gully 5km from the end.  It was dark, rooty, channeled, rocky, and uneven, with thick brush on either side.  It comes at a moment when you just want to be finished.  Anyway, once we cleared the gully, we kept on running, passing several others walking it in along the way.

As with many of my best days of running (and of life), images of the course are burned into my brain, bright reminders of a great adventure.  This race is right up there with Chiltern Wonderland, Race to the Stones, North Downs Way, and Ultra Trail Snowdonia (runs all completed in the sunshine, btw).  I may be a fair weather (ultra) runner, and in this sense I've gotten lucky (lots of sunny day races).

It's really down to good training, tapering, eating well, and lots of support, not least from my wife Diane who met us at the windmills and at the end, running a ways with us towards the track, and from Dave being on the same page with me, and from the epic volunteers and fellow runners, creating that fellow feeling of positivity.

10/10 ranking for this race, and will do it again.  My list of go-to (do again) races from Centurion is becoming a long (and great) list!

Can running save you?

I recently listened to a podcast at Adharanand Finn's Way of the Runner site in which he interviews Allie Bailey, author of the book "There is No Wall".  Allie has her own podcast called "Running Won't Save You" and she discusses her running philosophy, epitomised by this statement, with Adharanand.  Bailey is insistent that running cannot save a person unless they have already made some fundamental change to their life and way of being. 

But at the same time, Bailey's philosophy, as she explains in discussion with Adharanand, include the idea of a 'most authentic self' that can be brought out during running challenges such as 100km or 100 mile ultras (or indeed 200+ mile ultras that she herself regularly runs).  

Much of Bailey's outlook is both bracing and refreshing.  She is a running coach and from what I've heard she deals in truth-telling and honesty about what one can achieve, and towards what aims one should strive.  This is in turn based on a fine-tuned assessment of what the runner's wants are in relation to established hierarchy of needs.  

So, a runner who espouses the need to run a hundred miler, now that they've cleared the 100km ultra distance is met with a skeptical response: WHY do you think you want to run the hundred mile distance?  Is it necessary?  Is it even doable for YOU, the specific runner of a certain age, capability and motivation level, not to mention experience.

A lot of ultra-runners are moving up the 'distance ladder' very quickly, going for example, in the space of two years from their first (50km) ultra to 100 miles.  

I've heard her talk about 100 mile finish-line mutterings of oddly motivated individuals asking recent finishers if their considering the next level (200 mile) distance after this one.  It's a form of madness for which Bailey has no time nor patience, and it is tied into the addictive idea that running can save you.

The constant upping and re-upping of the distance wager, for example, doesn't map onto being one's most authentic self, actualised and in the moment.  What saves you in that moment is your training and your readiness to take on that specific challenge.

But what has motivated you to take on that training in the first place: to becoming a runner like Bailey who was doing crazy distances even at the same time as she was smoking and drinking to excess?  There were clearly some underlying fundamental issues to work out for Bailey to become her most authentic self on the trail.  Once she did work out those issues she was able to become a better runner.  

A better runner who can now accept a DNF, and say to others that it's a hobby, and nobody is making you do this because it's not your job!  If you want to run a hundred miler, realise that it's only one day, one night out on the trail, an adventure and a potentially defining moment in your life, and that only you can do it, not some abstract idea of 'running'!

Bailey is, therefore, a pragmatist, and definitely not an idealist.  This comes through overwhelmingly in her discussion with Adharanand on the podcast. Not only is she a straight shooter, but she is very funny (as is Adharanand of course), and I laugh a lot when when I listen to the Running Won't Save You podcast.

It's not running that saves you, then, it's having a sense of humour (see Damian Hall here as well), and a sense of proportion.  Yes, there is an aesthetic component to the ethics of running as 'saving'.  You, and your sense of humour and your sense of proportion are the saving grace for the better runners I've known, often those in the mid-pack.

Chiltern Wonderland 50 miler 2025

Coming out of Ibstone Aid Station on the CW50 course

It seems like every time I run a new race I say right afterwards that it was the best run of my life but I believe it to be true because I believe in constant improvement.  And indeed I am certain that my skill as an ultra-runner has improved a lot since last ran a really long ultra, from my first 100km non stop last year, to my unsuccessful attempts at the 100 mile distance, incorporating all the learnings from those races. 

So: I lubed up.  I layered the lube under my pits and in between the buttocks and down between the legs.  I used the Body Glide blue bar, with Squirrel's Nut Butter or Body Glide cream toppings.  I know that sounds weird but when you consider that the reason I DNF'd my NDW100 attempt this year was chafing, then you see how I must learn from that to avoid a similar outcome this year.

The other thing that worked brilliantly this year, and that does include lube-based insight and learnings, was my foot strategy.  My feet were perfect.  As I said when I got home on the Saturday night after finishing CW50 in under 12 hours: "my feet are in mint condition."  They were!  I hadn't tied my laces too tight (learning 1), and I lubed my toes into Injinji ultra crew socks and my Hoka Mafate X gravel trails cruisers.

I mean, my feet were brilliant.  The other thing is: my pole didn't break.  The Leki poles have now outlasted the Black Diamond ones by over a year.  They held up through multiple stumbles over roots in this race, mostly at the end in the dark when we were approaching Goring. 

The poles saved my legs and 'edged it' through as one Aussie put it when I passed him a mile from the finish line.  I could tell at the end, as my whole body was sore, not just the lower half, with effort distributed across the shoulders, core and whole upper body.  As other runners do, I maintain an intense focus on the ground, never losing sight of the trail immediately in front of my feet over 11 hours and 56 minutes of effort.  As soon as you do, you fall.  And I didn't fall, so thank you poles!

The weather was as close to perfect as possible.  We were at around 17C but it was humid, until it wasn't.  The rain never came either, but we got smatterings of droplets and a shower, followed by a cooling wind, that blew away my mid-race sag.  The other boost I got came in the form of running company and chat as I grouped together with some other runners who accompanied me through the last 3 aid stations and just helped to pass the time away.  Thanks to Ian Cragg especially.

I ran through a hornet's nest and got stung 7 times.  This was just before the iconic windmill, and well before the Ibstone aid station.  It was a bit demoralizing, and I was feeling a bit low after passing Ibstone (over halfway) when it was hot, but then just after that I joined Ian et al, and things picked up.  

Running Grim's Ditch was magical and transcendent, and by then things were both cool and brilliantly sunny.  I mean, it doesn't get ANY better than this in life, feeling like you're floating, flowing along the trails easily (mind you at a 13 min/mile pace, but still: it's running!), pushing through the Ridgeway where you've had epic races over years gone by, knowing the terrain yet seeing as though for the first time and running better than you've ever run before.  

Coming around the end of Grim's Ditch there was another short rain burst, the last one, and it was backlit by a gorgenous late afternoon sun over the fields of dreams.  The wind burst through like a cold sunblast both energising and cooling at the same time. We hit that last aid station and I had saved my Cokes for the last half of the race: another learning.  Reward yourself at the end of a race with a caffeine/sugar hit of coke and wash it down with watermelon.  So incredibly refreshing!  I kept taking the gels too, every half hour like clockwork, and this kept the legs supple, moving, flowing.

I paced out the setting sun, following a headlamp up the rows of wheat in the fading light, down onto the darkening trails at the edge of town.  The edge of darkness ate slowly away at the orange/blue/yellow/purple fading bruise and I just fed myself along those rooty trails into town as the light finally faded at the finish line. I got cheered in and finish the perfect run of a lifetime, around the back of the Goring community hall and into the warm embrace of the Centurion Team and my big shiny reward: a medal and hot cup of tea.  

I shook Ian's hand and said thank you and goodbye (he's sped 5 minutes ahead of me to improve by an hour on his previous year's time), to go find Diane and a cheeseburger.  We went home and watched Strictly and I told stories the whole way home.  

NDW100 2025

Three things went wrong that were within my control; a lot went right, even a greater number of things.  But the balance tends towards the errors as they magnify relentlessly through the course of a race of this length (100 miles).  Let's start with what went well on the North Downs Way 100 (2025):

1. My feet were happy and I had no blisters.  The Mafate X shoes are brilliant.  They have a carbon fibre plate in them, and they have a wide toebox with thick cushioning.  In combination with the Ultra Injinji toe socks there were no issues with rubbing or hot spots or pinching toes.  I also lubed my toes with Squirrel's Nut Butter and I do think this helped.  At one point I thought the big toe of my right foot might be rubbing a bit against the bottom of the shoe, but the Injinji design prevented it from being a problem and after 50 miles (when I pulled out) there was no redness at all.

2. I actually paced myself pretty well.  When people were dropping out all around me after Box and Reigate Hills, I felt really good.  At 31 miles when the crew told me 10 people were already out, I had no problem feeling energetic and stoked to keep going.  Mind you I was in last place (and people groan here and offer commiserations), and this fact was actually a point of pride since it meant I was still in the race and was keeping pace.  It was never really that close as I had 15-25 minutes to spare in these cases.

3. I had crew helping me and without my wife Diane showing up several times (I lost count, it was so many) I wouldn't have even gone 50 miles most likely. Or at least it wouldn't have been nearly as much fun.  A few times she popped up on some lonely sections of trail and we had a good little chat about this and that and it helped distract me from a sense of isolation or a long way to go. 

What went wrong:

1. I ran out of time. At Knockholt Pound I, technically, left with a few minutes to spare, meaning I made the cutoff at this, the seventh, aid station.  But the crew there told me I had three hours to make the 10 miles to the next aid station heading into the dark at Wrothom.  My pace up to this point was only just over 3 miles an hour anyway, and I was slowing down into the dark due to being cautious on tricky terrain.

2. Chafing.  This was a deal-breaker, to be honest, and it was an error on my part to wear the shirt that I did, and to fail to put on anti-chafing cream in my armpits.  It has never been a problem before, but the shirt made it a problem.  It is a shirt I have run in before, and it is very comfortable, but the armpits hang down just enough to allow for skin on skin rubbing and after 50 miles on trail with my poles the pain was excrutiating.  In addition, I'll add to chafing an issue I had with the top of my right foot.  I got a bit 'psyched' by one crew member who thought my toe rubbing must be an issue because I'd mentioned it to him (but it wasn't an issue as I intuited which is why I didn't take action).  Reacting to his concern I took the 'reasonable' step of tightening my right shoe laces a bit.  This led to some pain in that right foot, until I re-loosened the laces.  I had the beginnings of a bruise but it never actually developed into that, thankfully.

3. My pole broke at Knockholt Pound.  The button that holds the pole in the extended position failed and I can see that this is a design flaw in the Carbon Fibre Black Diamond Z poles.  There was just too much stress on that pinch point and in the end they let me down.  I've already run several races with these poles and they've been brilliant up until now.  I could have run with one pole (and in this sense only it was within my control) but with the other two factors above, felt it wasn't going to work. 

The last three 'wrongs' added up to a fatal situation for my race.  Still, I'm extremely happy with the day, and it was one of the most memorable, exciting and beautiful days I've ever had on the trails running.  

A few days later and I feel very good, and have completed a good track session.  

I had fun on the trail running with some others.  At the start I was with John who is a coached runner and chatted for a bit very early on in the race.  Eventually he put on a speed burst and disappeared.  Later I ran with Clement an American who chatted with me for over an hour.  We got lost together when some kids moved a couple of the signs around, sending us down an old mountain biking trail that Clement and I had to go up and down a couple of times before finding our way again. 

The whole day was brilliant fun and I think next time I'll just sign up for the NDW50 miler.  The cutoff for that one is 13 hours and it obviously had 6000 feet of elevation, but the course is just so brilliant it'll be hard pass up.  

NDW100 Taper Tantrums: 3 more sleeps

 I COMMIT, I WON'T QUIT!!

With three more sleeps to go until race day, when we line up to run 100 miles along the North Downs Way in Southern England, my mind has been a bit more calm, now that the pre-race Webi-gnar is behind us.  I'm watching lots of videos by the likes of Ben Parkes and Billy Yang and others, where they map out things like their WHY.  Why do they run these races?  Yang talks about Gratitude, for one.  

Yang has some compelling and very thoughtful arguments about the complacency of modern day life, and how there is a pleasure to be had in feeling a certain level of discomfort to balance it out. While Yang's video focused on Leadville 100,  Parkes's video of his girlfriend Sarah Place finishing the Thames Path 100 is a lesson in how an even-keeled approach and determination can result in some very happy vibes.  

There are a lot of videos out there, but the good ones are the ones where you can actually take something away and use it.  Yang's video shows the pre-race meeting where the race director asks the participants to commit to the race, and to promise they won't quit.  Thus the leader of this blog post: I COMMIT, I WON'T QUIT.  In my pocket I'll be carrying a map with this written on it, along with instructions to my self of each thing I need to do at the drop bag locations.

Another inspiring runner of 100 milers is Jeff Pelletier, a fellow Canadian. He has an almost machine-like ability to complete very long ultras, compiled over long experience and consistency in his approach.  He obviously feels all the thing other ultra runners feel, but he EXECUTES and keeps his brain smooth and anti-judgemental.  This is clear from his face and his tone of voice.  It seems he's always smiling, whether in the roots and rain of Quebec's Mega Trail or on the mountain-sides of the UTMB.

I've got my drop bags finalised now and have starting charging up my power pack and headlamps.  I'll top up the watch charge and phone charge on the morning of the race, and then I'll be ready to go.  I've even got my pre-race drink and morning gel for the drive over to Farnham.  Now I just have to keep my brain calm, and carry on.

NDW100 Taper Tantrums: 4 more sleeps

On Saturday the 9th of August 2025 I'll be lining up at the start line of the North Downs Way 100 mile race (Centurion Running).  I'm number 159 and can be tracked here. 

My training block has been perfect: I've hit every long run, and have even gone above and beyond, with several 50km or sub-ultra races strategically run in the 16 week training block, including a Dartmoor retreat and long run; a Snowdon 25km race; the Beat the Sunset 50km near Maidenhead; and a really satsifying South Downs Way 50km race that I finished in a very satisfying (for training) time.  I've averaged 40-50 mile weeks and 9-10+ hours of training per week in the peak weeks.  

That figure includes walking and strength training, two key components on staying strong and getting ready for the rigours of 100 mile racing.  And you are racing, even when you are walking and/or in active recovery mode most of the way.  You are also running, and I'm told by Alex Hutchinson that the average 100 mile racer consumes 8000 calories over the distance.  The average calorie burn for those same individuals is in the range of 16,000 calories, meaning that success equals getting at least have of what you burn in.

It's hard to eat that much on the move.  I struggle with solid and 'real' foods, so when these start to lose their appeal I'll switch from sausage rolls and cheese sandwiches to gels, energy drinks, and my secret weapon, longlife milk later in the race.  These foods just slide right down.  You have to keep up the rhythm of eating too, consuming something every 30 minutes minimum.  I've got high carb Naak powder to supplement the Tailwind provided on course; and I've got high carb SIS and Naak gels, to top up the Precision Gels (also high carb at 30g per gel) provided at check points.  

All of this is fine.  It's the mental game that is the true struggle.  You can't start thinking; you have to just relentlessly execute, and turn off your brain.  The only way to do this is to either distract yourself, or to dial in.  Distraction comes in the form of high fiving people, joking with the volunteers, looking at the scenery, or reciting a mantra.  I'll be using a pacer from mile 82, in part to distract myself from myself.  I'll be trying to keep a 'smooth brain', one without jagged or judgemental emotions.  The smooth brain won't judge: it moves on, leaving examination of complex emotions to be processed post finish (thanks to Sabrina Little's ultra-running philosophy book for this insight).  

You lose sleep running ultras too, both during, and before.  I'm already dreaming of the race very night, especially last night after our first Centurion race webinar to go over course setup and expectations.  It would be nice to figure out how to shut this off, but actually I think my brain is performing a vital function of sorting out some angst and getting rid of it for me before I even get to the start line.  Actually, I slept quite well last night too, despite being on the trail in my brain all night.

I've followed Damian Hall's advice, writing down all the things that are troubling me on the mental side of training, of which he notes, we don't do enough.  Not only do you write everything down, but you also write down what you are going to do about each one of your fears/worries when they arise.  He rightly highlights accountability and letting people know what you're up to.  My strategies in response to his advice are to move through temporary discomfort and try my hardest (be tough); to enjoy the inevitable good moments, and to anticipate them (it never always gets worse); to visualise the race; and to run mile to mile and check point to check point.  

I've got 4 more sleeps; 4 more days to taper tantrum by having weird/bad dreams and writing blog posts. I'll visualize, I'll try to be calm and serene in these days before the big race.  At least I get to fit in two more runs!  I did a 4 miler today (13 min/mile pace or 8:09 min/km); and get a 3 and then a 2 and then a 0 mile day.  

South Downs Way 50km 2025

It was my hardest ever effort by a long way, last Saturday, with a score of 565 (my previous highest being the London Marathon in 2022 at 481) on Strava.  But in terms of PERCIEVED effort, the South Downs Way 50km felt much easier than London.  I think the difference is entirely explainable by social and mental factors.  Runs feel easier when you run with people, and when you feel part of a community.  With Centurion, having now run two of their races and volunteered at one (and registered to volunteer at another), I'm starting to feel like part of the community.  I saw people at SDW50km with whom I'd managed kitchen orders at the Thames Path 100 miler just a few weeks before.  This isn't only a competitive thing, as many of those people are much faster than me.  And part of competition is collaborative in the sense of holding each other to a higher standard, and this held true during this race.

The race conditions were perfect as well, with 20C and fair weather clouds mixed with blue and a beautiful tailwind that stripped residual heat away from my body. 

I had the good fortune of being cheered on by Diane during this race; and I also got to run with Rik, Nic, and Paul of Bracknell Forest Runners (an award-winning team!) for some of the time, and we had some good chats.  

My time was decent, IMHO, in part because I didn't spend more than 2 minutes at any aid station.  

I drank a litre of Naak Ultra Boost Drink (60g carbs) and a litre of Tailwind, with a half litre of Coke and a litre of water to keep me going through four mid-race aid stations.  There was one available drinking water tap as well where I topped up the water. I ate sausage rolls and sandwiches in small quantities as well as a couple of slices of watermelon.

Gels consumed included three Precision Hydration fueling gels picked up along the way (30g carbs each); one Gu gel picked up at Aid 1; two Science in Sport 40g carb gels and two Naak ultra boost 25g carb gels and a Naak maple syrup 200 calorie gel.  High carb fuelling continues to get the job done.

The results are here . It is interesting to note that I was passing people the ENTIRE WAY, and you can see this as I progress from 241-->238-->213-->194-->176 by the end.  Nobody passed me in this race except for that one person right at the end! I passed 65 people, which is a great way to run a race, mentally speaking.  

It is my favourite ultra running course, and I will run this race as many times as I can in future years.  Every year.