2023 started out as the year of “50s”. A 50km warm-up followed by four 50 milers, all organised by Centurion Running. And I promised my wife no more 100 milers…
But early in the year, Centurion teased a new race. I thought it was up north somewhere and off the radar. However on 14th April the details were released: A 200 mile race in a clockwise loop consisting of the North Downs Way, Vanguard Way, South Downs Way, Wayfarers Walk, St Swithuns Way and back onto the North Downs Way to the finish.
In December. Within 96 hours. Including 6800m (22500ft) of ascent.
Hmmm. 200 miles in 96 hours. That meant an average pace of 2.083mph or 3.33kph. It immediately got me grinning. Something I don’t think I stopped doing whenever I thought about the race. I messaged Caroline the race info with the message “sleep is overrated…”. Her reply was “Utter madness…I will share the crewing”. Which I took as a yes.
However, entry wasn’t just a case of applying. You also had to have experience of winter, mountain or self-supported, self-powered journeys to “instill confidence in… organisers of their ability to cover very long distances between check points on foot, self-navigating in what could be extremely difficult conditions including 16 hours of darkness in every 24.”
So I trawled back through my OMMs, LAMMs (Original Mountain Marathons and Lowe Alpine Mountain Marathons – weekends spent navigating round a remote course carrying all our kit including a tent) as well as my winter mountaineering experience. When the entries opened I copied and pasted my CV, pressed send, and waited. Soon enough my entry changed from “pending” to “approved”. I was in!
Oh shit.
While the 50s were happening during the year, I decided to use them as a training base at the same time as planning for December. The kit list was extensive. I knew I had some of it and one early decision was to ditch my Salomon running pack for my trusty OMM rucksack. I was going for comfort rather than speed and would be packing enough kit so that if I was waiting for hours to be picked up, I would be doing so while snug and dry.
Several friends, who after expressing their opinion that I was nuts, volunteered to help crew me and were duly rostered. I was planning on a pace of 5kph plus 3 stops of 5 hours which should bring me home in about 83 and a half hours including some faff time at crew stops. The plan was for Caroline to crew me from the start to Chiddingly, the first overnight stop. Budgie would take over from Berwick Station until Botolphs. Caroline would meet me for the overnight stop at Washington, Paul would crew from Chantry Post until QE Park. Stephen and Michelle would meet me at Beaconhill Beeches with Caroline meeting me for the final overnight at Bishops Sutton before crewing me all the way to the finish. Paula, Steve and Becks were on standby for mechanicals or other emergencies as well as “pop up” emergency morale boosts.
The entry list for the race reached over 130 at one point but as the year passed, it gradually whittled away until it was down to 97 before the race.
The 50 milers were all successfully completed so we also carried out some reccies of the unfamiliar sections – the Vanguard Way, Wayfarers Walk and St Swithun’s Way. The initial Vanguard Way recce covered the northern half which we found a bit wet and muddy, which was nothing on the southern half which, on our second recce, was at times knee deep in floods.
My lead up to the race was tempered by a few factors. I was battling the fatigue and apathy that Parkinson’s Disease brings as well as rehearsing for a dance show in the middle of November so I had to throttle back the training to make sure I could tap dance without injury.
When the show was out of the way and the planning was nearly complete, our world came to a screeching halt as Caroline’s mum was rushed into critical care with what turned out to be Guillain Barre syndrome. In the initial period it was life threatening, and we were braced for the worst – however her mum pulled through, but in critical condition. With having to visit hospital being the priority we had another crew meeting and the roles were revised – thankfully the backup team rose to the challenge admirably!
Eventually Caroline and I trundled up to the Juniper Field Studies Centre near Dorking which was race HQ, on the evening before the race. We were lucky and had a room to ourselves and unloaded and then wandered down to chat with the other runners and checked in. Luckily all my kit passed and so we relaxed with the pre-race food of champions: microwave curry.
All too soon the night passed, and it was up early to get ready before the race briefing. James Elson, the RD, provided his usual comprehensive talk which helped focus minds on the task ahead. Soon, the seemingly small race field of 94 runners were toeing the line and then were off, heading up through the woods onto the North Downs Way.
My plan was simple: run the downhills, and walk everything else. This wasn’t too difficult on the North Downs Way which, although muddy in places, was reasonably easy going. However on one uphill section I missed my grab at a tree and ended up sliding backwards a couple of metres on my knees. While bimbling along I picked up a red light (mandatory kit to be worn on the back of the rucksack) and was asking everyone I met if they’d dropped it.
I trundled into the first crew stop at Reigate Hill to be met by Paula who had taken over from Caroline on the early stages. A quick top up of the bottles and I was on my way.
My fuelling strategy was pretty simple too. Tailwind and Active Root in my bottles, Jellybabies and Kendal mint cake in my pockets. I couldn’t have anything large or with protein until my rest stops as it would interfere with my Parkinson’s meds. They were pretty simple too: pills every three hours, and don’t go too fast and use up the dopamine that they gave me.
Merstham came and went, again with Paula topping up the bottles for her last stint and I’d managed to find out who had dropped their red light. Around this time I was travelling for a bit with the legend that is John Fanshawe. We had crewed an aid station on the Thames Path 100 earlier in the year and it was great to spend some time in his company. By the time I got to Oxted I was running (ok walking) ahead of schedule, but I wanted to get some wiggle room in the bank as I knew the Vanguard Way would be harder going.
At about 1:30pm and after 27km, near Botley Hill it was time to turn south onto the Vanguard Way. The route was marked by yellow arrows (and one or two red or blue ones) with VGW in the middle, which could be hard to spot when all the paths were marked by yellow arrows!
The recce work proved invaluable as I progressed through some really wet and boggy fields. The paths were pretty chewed up by the eighty or so preceding runners so running downhill became an optional extra to staying upright. I was relying pretty heavily on my poles to maintain my footing as night fell.
At 6.45pm, nearly 57km into the race, I jogged into Forest Row, having helped another runner find his way to the Co-op. My wife was parked up opposite the fish and chip shop and it was so tempting to share her dinner! After wiggling my way out of the town the route headed up into Ashdown Forest. The path reached the top at Gill’s Lap Clump (snigger) but I didn’t stop to admire the view as I wanted to get to the first official aid station ahead of the cut-off. It was mostly downhill splashing through the mud on the way to High Hurstwood. As I trundled along I caught up with John again.
After the crew stop at High Hurstwood I slightly went exploring on our incorrect recce route before remembering where the path went and then headed off to Blackboys village hall which was the first official aid station and cut-off point.
I reached the hall at 00.19am which was about 7 hours ahead of the cut-off. This was ideal, as it meant that my planned 5 hour rest in the van about 10km further along the path in Chiddingly was going to be fine. The Centurion crew at Blackboys couldn’t do enough to help. Muddy shoes were removed at the door (and they were seriously muddy!) and hot food awaited. Unfortunately my fuelling strategy limited me to a cup of tea, gratefully received.
At Chiddingly (89km), Caroline was waiting in the van. I got there at 2.30am which was bang on schedule. I downed some protein shake, rice pudding topped up with condensed milk and a mug of tea before putting my head down for a few hours.
After a fitful snooze, I changed my shoes from the Salomon Ultra Glide 2 for the chunkier grips of the Salomon Thundercross and I was out of the van just before 7.30am trudging my way through more muddy fields on the way to meet my fellow nutter, Budgie, at Berwick Station. On the way I caught up with Elizabeth Hilton. We’d shared some time yesterday but she’d left me behind. Unfortunately, later on she had an accident with her glasses so she had to retire.
The sunrise on the way to Berwick was amazing, as was the reception given by Budgie. We’ve trained for many hours together, and without him I don’t think I’d be where I am today.
Budgie’s van was stocked with all sorts of goodies so I added Tangfastics to the Jellybabies and had another cup of tea.
After finding the well concealed turn out of Berwick (again the recce helped), it was off to Alfriston and the South Downs Way. I was hoping for drier conditions underfoot as I had had enough of mud. Me, whose aim in life was to jump in every muddy puddle!
Ahead of me lay 72km before I reached Washington which I was hoping to make by just after 11pm. I’ve run the SDW loads of times heading east so knew what to expect. After Bo Peep I was heading to Firle Beacon when Shelagh Robinson popped up to say hello.
We’d shared many hours on the 50 slam and her support was a much needed morale boost. From Firle Beacon it was a long trudge along the farm track after crossing the railway at Southease and an even longer trudge uphill along the “yellow brick road” concrete track at Iford Hill.
Once they were out of the way it was more pleasant going on the drop down into Housedean Farm, where Budgie was waiting for me again. After another quick top up, it was a long climb back up onto the South Downs Way as the sun went down. Again.
In spite of the darkness and the wind in my face, it was easier going along the ridge with the downhill sections being jogged. When I met Budgie again we had a quick look at the weather and I donned my overtrousers – and was really grateful shortly after when the rain came down, or rather along, in the wind. I was also in low cloud with about 5 – 10 metres visibility so decided that “plan A – just finish” was the better option by walking, rather than taking a risk and jogging the downhills with a high likelihood of taking a tumble.
As I descended in the cloud to Pyecombe I caught up with another runner. He was uncrewed and I think the lack of sleep was getting to him as he definitely sounded confused. We found our way across the road junction and headed over to Saddlescombe but the other runner was not in a good way. I knew that Budgie was just around the corner and the next aid station at the YHA at Truleigh Hill just after. As we ascended the hill from Saddlescombe I saw a headlamp in the mist which then turned back but a few minutes later Budgie phoned me as we’d just missed each other. I had enough fuel to last until the next crew point and wanted to make sure the by now seemingly delirious runner got to Truleigh Hill. I slowed while he really struggled up to the checkpoint but there was no way I could leave him in the state that he was. Finally we crested the hill and I ran ahead into the aid station to warn them and then headed straight off to the layby at Botolphs. Well, I’d intended to go straight ahead, but a car of “meteor watchers” (good luck in that cloud!) had parked in front of the gate I needed so I went down the hill for a couple of hundred metres before retracing my steps, squeezing round their car and headed down the hill. The track was awful, with thin gullies so it was impossible to jog down without turning your ankle which meant that it was a brisk walk.
Amazingly it was 8.43pm when I met Budgie, with the race plan estimating 8.47 so although I had spent time helping the other runner (who later retired), I was still on track. It turned out that missing him at Saddlescombe was a blessing as the carpark was a hotspot for dogging!
After I left Budgie for the last time, I crossed the River Adur and followed a long slog uphill overlooking Steyning.
As I neared the top of the first climb John Collis was standing waiting in the cold. It was great to see a smiley face in the gloom and definitely boosted morale on that never ending climb, as after Steyning the ridge continued upwards until the trig point at 238m near Chactonbury Ring. Finally we descended (I’d caught up with another couple of runners) into Washington where Caroline was waiting with the van. I was knackered by that point (and about 10 minutes behind schedule) but topped up with the usual protein shake, rice pudding (and condensed milk) and a cup of tea before putting my head down.
“What time is it?” Caroline asked, urgently.
“About 6! Oops”.
The 3.30am alarm had not gone off. It turned out Caroline had set it for Thursday rather than Friday. I dressed and prepped quickly but felt that the unintentional lie-in might have been worth it. Caroline was really apologetic but I looked at the clock – we were still ahead of the cutoff so it wasn’t a problem. We’d let the others know the plan had altered and it meant I left as the sun was coming up.
It was a lovely climb out of Washington and although the rest of the day didn’t measure up to the forecast, the sunrise was beautiful.
As I headed towards Amberley my enjoyment of the view was somewhat interrupted by my watch freezing. This meant lots of faffing around resetting it and downloading the map again. I wasn’t bothered by the navigation as I also had a handheld GPS, my phone and a paper map. I was gutted for my Strava though – my longest activity (ever) ruined!
Never mind, it could be worse, so I concentrated on making up time and caught up a couple of runners through Amberly.
On the way up the hill past Houghton I was met by Steve and Becks who had just missed me earlier (the pace!) and were doing their utmost to lift morale. Not that it was needed at that point, it was turning out to be a good day (famous last words!).
At Bignor Hill I was met by Paul who was crewing me through to QE Park. We’ve been mountaineering together for years and it was great to see him, even if he was passing along messages from Caroline who was concerned that I wasn’t getting enough calories in, and therefore nagging me to drink more.
After another morale boost from Steve and Becks at Littleton Farm it was up onto the ridge at Graffham Down. This was now “home turf” and I was trundling along to the next crew point at Cocking at a good pace. However, I knew that I had to not go too fast as there was still another day to go. I was forcing myself to drink and eat more so that Paul could report back to Caroline that I was behaving myself.
After following the South Downs Way as it skirted around Beacon Hill – frustratingly avoiding the wonderful views – I approached the crew point at Harting Down, and a Minion appeared in front of me. Followed by a Tyrannosaurus Rex and a Hippo in a tutu. Must be one of those ultrarunning hallucinations!
Paula had popped up with her kids to make me giggle – and it doesn’t take much these days! After topping up again it was off to Queen Elizabeth Country Park (my home base for training) as night fell. First I had to negotiate the parent traffic leaving Ditcham Park School, including the school bus so discretion won over valour as I buried myself in a hedge for what felt like forever as the convoy went past.
At 5pm I bimbled into QE for my final crew stop with Paul. This was 2 hours later than the original plan due to the late start, but I’d made up half an hour during the day so I was still happy. I was happier still when greeted by a posse from the Portsmouth Tri Club who had turned out in the dark to cheer me on my way. It was a real mental boost to help me ascend Butser Hill and from there to the next Aid Station at the Sustainability Centre.
As I approached the centre, I was greeted by some of the volunteers. Being at the back of the pack I think life had become a bit quiet. They offered me mouth watering lasagne which I had to decline in favour of another cup of tea. I did avail of their services to help put a compeed plaster under the ball of my left foot. Although there was no sign of a blister, after 130 miles it was beginning to complain so I thought that prevention was better than cure. After polishing off the cup of tea, I hitched up my rucksack and headed off to meet Stephen and his wife Michelle, who had drawn the short straw with the crew stop at Beaconhill Beaches. It was a remote stop nearly 3 hours after leaving the Sustainability Centre.
As I started down the hill, on my way past Meon Springs and Old Winchester Hill, I felt a pain in my right shin. Bugger bugger bugger! 130 miles and then something has to start! The pain was annoying, and growing but I could walk ok (even with the pain) and jog if I gritted my teeth. As I climbed up Old Winchester Hill the layby on the road was busy. One of my Wednesday night QE Social runners, Mike had popped along to say hello, and there was also a “12 car ‘navigation’ rally” – which seemed like an excuse to hurtle along like a bat out of hell on the back roads.
I descended from the hill towards Exton and found the route was still shin deep floods until crossing the A32. It was another long haul uphill to meet Stephen and Michelle who had been patiently waiting in the cold and dark, and the cup of tea was much appreciated – while watching the cars zooming past us. The shin was getting quite painful but Caroline and the van awaited me at Bishops Sutton, just about 16km away, and I knew the Wayfarer’s Walk was easier going. So just over 2km after departing from the crew point I left the South Downs Way at Wind Farm to start the northern leg.
Again I was glad for all the preparation work because it made travelling in the dark easier as I went through Kilmeston, Hinton Ampner (where there was a frost on the grass) and Cheriton.
Finally at just past 1am I found Caroline and the van in the village hall car park (along with some other crews). I was three hours behind the original plan which I had by now ditched. The leg was really painful but I decided to sleep on the quit/continue decision. I was ahead of the cutoff – and that was all that mattered. I was going to lie in until starting at 7am but a painful night meant that I gave up on that and got out of the van just after 6am. I’d told my sister before the race that as long as I had two legs I would not stop. So although it was quite hurty, I was determined to finish. My Parkinson’s is progressing and as far as I know, I am only going to get one chance at this.
As I trundled off towards Jane Austen’s Chawton I caught up with John Fanshawe, who when he realised that I’d had a nice comfy rest for a few hours in the van betrayed his feelings with “bloody hell!”. He was making steady progress and I really hoped he would get to the finish in time.
At the carpark in Alton I met with Steve and Becks who were now pulling the longest shift. Becks was in full-on mothering mode making sure that I drank and ate enough all day. They also helped several other runners during the race – it’s what they do best!
It was a long, wiggly trundle along to Farnham, and I’d timed it badly and missed the Santa Special Trains along the Watercress Line but I wasn’t going to wait until they started up again in the afternoon. My stomach had also decided that my shin wasn’t the only body part to require attention. As I trundled through the woods I kept an eye out for a suitably discrete toilet stop, only to find that after hurdling a ditch, taking several layers off, and finding a woodpile to hide behind, that my stomach had gone on strike! Finally, I jogged down the hill through the University for the Creative Arts into Waitrose car park for the next crew stop. Just after I’d left Steve and Beck’s tender ministrations I was greeted by an American visitor to the UK who’d heard about the race, and was also an RD in the States. So if anyone is visiting Massachusetts and fancies an ultra, check out the Midstate Massive Ultra Trail (30, 50 and 100 mile options available).
After wiggling through Farnham I finally arrived at the final route changeover, the start of the North Downs Way. It was 2.30pm and I knew that I had about 9 hours of work left to do, including Box Hill.
From Farnham the NDW runs a few hundred metres away from the A32 before heading into Puttenham in the dark. This was a crew stop as well as the last Aid Station, so Steve and Becks topped me up and I had to head straight past the volunteers just down the path. It was a real shame that I had no opportunity to stop as they had given up so much of their time.
At Guildford the path drops down to cross over the River Wey before climbing back up to St Martha’s Hill, with the church of that name on the top. After leaving the Pilgrim’s Way the NDW climbed again to Newland’s Corner, the next crew stop. I was grateful for their van as I could use the toilet while fighting off Bella (their dog) and her attempts to snaffle my treats.
After Newland’s it was another 12km to Denbies Hillside and the final crew stop of the race. It felt like forever. The shin was really painful and the going underfoot was leaf covered stony paths. I’d fallen three times in training on similar terrain, and the scars on my knee reminded me to avoid running as I did not want to DNF this close to the finish. I passed Zoe Norman at this point. She was really struggling and I wished that I had some magic words to help her along, but my brain was definitely not up to the challenge by then. Unfortunately she had to stop shortly afterwards – but she’s already on the list for 2024 so fingers crossed she is successful next time. At the crew stop I ditched my spare water bottle. I’d been carrying it in case of any crewing issues, and with only the finish to come it was a relief to ditch nearly a kilo in weight.
The road down the hillside seemed to take an age. It didn’t help that I missed a turn and nearly ended up in a party in Denbies vineyard. Finally I was alongside the A24 heading north to the underpass to cross over and head back south to the start of Box Hill.
Box Hill. I’ve ascended it several times on the NDW ultras, and never enjoyed the experience. In my mind it had been built up into a never ending series of steps. But I was determined to conquer them, so adopting the Sesame Street Count von Count I steadily climbed the steps, counting them all. 264 steps later I was at the top. Surprised at how short they had been, and mightily relieved too. So much anticipation for so little!
Shortly after this the Centurion trail markers began to guide me towards Juniper Hall. I think the paracetamol had kicked in by then as it was less painful to jog so sped up downhill to the finish line.
As I ran along the drive over the finish line it was magic to be greeted by Caroline, Steve and Becks and my sister who’d surprised me with a visit.
At 3 minutes past 1am, after 89 hours 3 minutes and 13 seconds, my Winter Downs 200 was complete.
It was an amazing adventure, and one that I wouldn’t have missed – even taking into account the two visits to hospital to diagnose my shin and the weeks of recovery that are going to follow! I will never be able to adequately thank my crew who gave up so much of their time to support this nutter in his quest.
