I know... most people do not even like to drive that far, but here we are. One hundred miles. It is a long way to run, so naturally there is a lot to process. Please bear with me whilst I meander my way through the experience.
Oh, and you might want to get some popcorn ready, this is a long one.
Set a goal so big that you cannot achieve it until you grow into the version of you who can.
June 11th was pretty special, yet it still seems so surreal. I ran 100 miles that Saturday, 100 miles! It was an incredible privilege to stand at the start line of something so incomprehensible as a 100 miler, something only very few get to experience let alone accomplish.
Just after 6am on the Sunday, I entered Eastbourne Sports Park at a pace I still struggle to understand I had in me. My legs had blown up at Alfriston, mile 91, so I had spent the last 8 ish miles loudly moaning and complaining to my lovely pacer Krysia, but as soon as we got to the road leading up to the track and she reminded me just how close we were now, I somehow managed to dig a little deeper and found another gear.
I ran the lap of the track so fast that my crew, who were allowed to accompany me for the last 400m, could barely keep up. And then I got my reward: the buckle. I had joined club 100!
Dream team! Dai, Sarah, me and Krysia. 25 hours 5 minutes 50 seconds
The South Downs Way 100 is a 100 mile continuous point to point trail from Winchester to Eastbourne. It has been recognised as an area of outstanding beauty and the route travels along a huge range of terrain types and underfoot conditions vary greatly. The Downs are primarily composed of chalk, but will at times become dirt road, woodland tracks, grass and in places tarmac.
Let’s rewind a little
My friend and coach, Sarah, had offered to meet me on the Friday, shop the last supplies for the crew car, have a big lunch with me and then drive me all the way to Winchester. Not all heroes wear capes! It would have been way too warm for a cape that day anyway.
We met by Waitrose in Haywards Heath around 3pm, picked up what we needed and then went back to her place where I made us a batch of beef stroganoff. Us being Sarah, her husband Tom, their dog Watson and me. Carb loading was on; I was told to eat double that of the others which luckily was no problem — I was hungry! By eating a big lunch I could have a slightly smaller dinner, which should help me fall asleep easier without depleting me ahead of the next day.
We started the drive to Winchester shortly after we had eaten, went to pick up my race number and had the live tracker attached to my race pack. That would save me some time the following morning and help make everything run a little smoother, no pun intended. We then went over to my Airbnb, where I was off for an early night. Next time I would see Sarah would be 27 miles into the race!
Lucky number 158
Wakey, wakey
I barely slept a wink the night before, so little that my Garmin did not record any sleep at all. It was probably down to a mix of worrying about missing my alarm and the cab to the start line, not being able to eat breakfast and just general nerves around the fact that I was going to attempt to run 100 miles.
At 1.50am there was no more sleep left in me and I was wide awake. I forced myself to stay in bed, because whilst I was not asleep, I was still resting. I had a long day ahead of me, so I enjoyed those 30 minutes I managed to just lie there.
My room in the Airbnb did not have curtains, which did not make sleep any easier taken I went to bed at 8pm, and the sun did not properly set until a couple of hours later. I had wrapped my base layer around my head as a sleep mask and slept with ear plugs. Despite waking up before 2am, I was not tired at all. The adrenaline was pumping around my body, but I still felt pretty calm. It just felt right.
I got up, put my contact lenses in and got dressed. Then Squirrel’s Nut Butter was smothered EVERYWHERE! That stuff is magic. It was going to be a warm day and I have a tendency to chafe on my mid-back and lately, in between my thighs too. Maybe I am eating too much pizza? Meh, who cares. Nothing a layer of Squirrel’s cannot sort. I have also not had a blister for over 2 years thanks to their dreamy formula, but I was quite curious to see what state my feet would be in once I reached Eastbourne.
I went downstairs to make some porridge. I have eaten that almost religiously for breakfast for the last 4 years. It did of course explode in the microwave... and there was no kitchen towel to be found, so I improvised and cleaned up the mess using toilet paper instead. I managed to save and savour most of the calories and not leave the kitchen in a state. Yay!
Last thing I did before leaving the abode was to pin on my race number. I then called the cab company to check if they were on their way, and they were! It was such a relief, suddenly all the nerves subsided and now I was completely calm throughout. I knew I would get to the start line in time and that I would get to Eastbourne sometime that following morning. I was so excited!
Let’s dance
Matterley Bowl, 4am ish. We were blessed with perfect weather conditions. It was quite nippy at this hour, but I knew the sun would soon come out to play and warm me up. Some 405 runners were ready to tackle the big challenge running 100 miles truly is. We were split into two waves, wave one starting at 5am, wave two at 6am. I was running in wave one.
I met Paul, James and Vicki at the start line. I also bumped into Bethan, who was going to attempt to break the current female course record: 16 hours and 56 minutes. James was going to attempt to run sub 18 hours and Vicki sub 20. Paul was there as he was crewing and pacing James from Matterley, and it was really nice to see some familiar faces before the big dance.
Moments before we were off
James Elson, RD of Centurion, did the race brief and at 5am sharp, we were off. We were to run two laps of Matterley Bowl before joining onto the beautiful South Downs Way.
I started running with Vicki and we were leap frogging each other for a good 10 miles before she disappeared. She had a phenomenal race by the way, just over 20 hours! I was also running at a really good pace and could not stop smiling. The sunrise had been beyond beautiful, food and water went down well, and I was just really enjoying being there.
Trail running is a beautiful hobby, ultra running even more so. Both creates an exceptionally rich setting for focusing on the present moment and in a world that is often caught up in time by living almost exclusively through anticipation or memory, being in the moment is a novelty.
In anticipation of tomorrow or in memory of yesterday, we lose today. There is only now.
Somewhere between mile 5 and 8, I spotted the legend that is Paul once again. He was was there to cheer and that someone would do that for me, even unintentionally, was so nice! I knew I probably would not see him again that day, as he was crewing for a much faster runner, so I really savoured the moment.
At mile 10, I came into aid station one of many and saw Jon, a fellow ultra runner and friend of mine. He was volunteering and seeing him giving back to the community could only make me smile. I stocked up on water and grabbed some watermelon, and plodded on. Bye Jon!
A couple of miles later, I met Zuzana — a girl I had been chatting to on Instagram in the days leading up to the race. It was great meeting her in real life and we spent quite a few miles together, leap frogging each other at times, but mainly running side by side.
Zuzana asked me what my reasoning for running was. Not just the 100 miler, but in general. I told her that I run because our brains are wired to keep us from discomfort, so I use running as a means to look for peace in the pain. It was great with some company and before we knew it, we had run a total of 22 miles! 78 miles to go...
Still smiling
I cannot recall exactly where, but at some point we came across the happy chap Gildas. We all ran at a similar pace then, so we stuck together for a little while. I am not a fan of music when running so when he started playing his favourite French pop tune, I kind of zoned out. I prefer listening to the birds. He was really excited though and soon we were all dancing along the trails to the tunes of a male French pop artist.
He then prompted me to choose a Danish tune and I chose an old classic called Midt om Natten by Kim Larsen, meaning In the Middle of the Night. It seemed quite suitable, taken we were all going to run through the night later on.
Last but not least, Zuzana, being from the Czech Republic, chose a Czech song and once that was over, that was the end of that party. I was glad to have the music of nature back, but I did enjoy our little international trail rave.
Next stop — Harting Downs and my crew
Krysia to the rescue with a water spray, I think she made a fair few of the other runners pretty happy that day! Wow, those 27 miles had gone by so quickly. My legs were still feeling good, food was still going down, lots of water had been drunk and I was having the best time. It was great to see the girls.
I had voice noted my requests ahead: Tailwind, some crisps and more gels. And some sun cream! My crew were amazing and cheered me in as I came running up towards them. A few hugs and a restocked pack later, I was on my way. I would see them again at Cocking aid station, in 8 miles.
Just after Harting Downs there is a small incline which I decided to walk and so did many others. Some were really struggling in the heat and it turned out that 104 of the 405 starters dropped from the race sometime before reaching Eastbourne. A high number compared to previous years.
Now Cocking was just around the corner and I was quite excited to get there, as I knew Brett would be there as well. He is not a runner, so for him to see me all jolly 35 miles into a race of nearly triple the distance meant the world. Jon was there too!
For me?!
My crew greeted me with not just one but two Calippo’s! Those were very welcome, as there was yet another climb out of this aid station with little to no shade. I stuck one in my vest and started eating the other. My plan was to give my spare to the next runner I came across, because sharing is caring and all that. 10 miles until the next crew point.
Halfway up the hill, I bumped into a guy who looked like he would die for something cold. It was pretty hot now. I offered him the spare Calippo and he was super grateful. We spent the next couple of miles together and when we parted, he offered to hold onto my rubbish as a thank you for the ice lolly. We both plodded on, but at different paces. The Calippo was not sitting well, so I slowed down a little to try and problem solve the nausea it had left me with.
On the 83752nd climb of the day, I bumped into a guy who was moving at the same pace as me. We pushed each other, him pulling me up the hill, his favourite, me making him run downhill, my favourite. It was a long decent into Houghton Farm, along a very broken up chalky path.
My legs were not in any particular pain, which is pretty impressive taken the distance I had covered so far into consideration: 45 miles. My crew, now including Dai, was there with Tailwind, watermelon, cashew nuts and endless smiles. I am a very lucky girl!
Cheesy grin and salty shoulders
Upon leaving the aid station, Sarah’s husband Tom got some drone footage of me. I was running at a very decent pace. I was truly having the best time! Amberley was not too far now and I knew I would be met by a long hill, so a little rest was coming up. In ultras, it is quite common to walk the hills which is then when you refuel.
Almost 10 hours had passed and it was time to charge the watch. It had dropped to 36% already. It is just over 10 months old, so for it to use so much battery so soon was a little concerning. I did not even have the route loaded. I put the watch on charge on a portable charger I had in my pack, popped it into one of the front pockets and plodded on.
Pacer time
Kithurst Hill, 50.1 miles. The furthest I had ever run. It was time for Sarah to join me. Yay! I was ready for some company. Not only is Sarah my coach, she is a dear friend of mine. We had so much fun on those trails! I was getting quite hungry, so we decided that the next stop would be a proper food stop.
We arrived into Washington aid station some 4 miles later where some chicken soup was prepared for me and I got a chance to wipe the salt off my face. Dreamy. Thanks for fetching those face wipes from the crew car, Krysia!
We left the aid station and I was sipping chicken soup out of an enamel mug for the next few minutes. I wanted it to be creamier, it was just a cup-o-soup. Oh, well. Calories were calories. I was nearly 55 miles in, over halfway now. Next time we would see the crew would be in 11 miles.
Sarah and I plodded on and I remember that she at some point gently stroked my arm to say well done and my response was a loud-ish squeal: ’’Are you going to punch me in the stomach next then?’’ My legs were still turning over and no mental barriers were activated, but my skin - oh boy, my skin was sore! And I had only just realised.
Next up: Botolphs aid station. 61 miles in and just before the big 100 kilometre mark. I was struggling a little now, so Sarah put me in a chair and sourced me a cheese sandwich. I did not fancy a cheese sandwich by the sound of it. But in ultra running you have to force feed yourself, or you simply will not be able to go on. So eat it I did and it was actually pretty delicious!
Coach of the year. Much fun was had.
Noticed the matching shoes?
I was sat in a chair next to a guy named Lee who was adamant he wanted to DNF. He was not injured, so I told him to keep going. None of us had come this far to only come this far. He ended up running the race over an hour quicker than me! Not because of my pep talk, but because he somehow managed to dig himself out of the pain cave and take it home. Good man.
Sarah grabbed me another cheese sandwich for the road and we slowly started the ascent up to Devil’s Dyke. We climbed and climbed and climbed. I was ready to see that beautiful number on my watch: 100 kilometres. The furthest I had run prior to this race was 50 miles = 81 km. Reaching 100 km would be a big milestone in itself. At the top of the initial hill, my watch went into triple digits on the distance. I had run 100 kilometres!
Taken into consideration that I had never gone that distance before, had climbed over 2300 meters so far and still had 60 kilometres to go, 13 hours and 39 minutes is a pretty good time!
Shortly thereafter, we approached the last hill before the next crew stop and pacer change over, and Sarah spotted a photographer. She looked at me and asked whether I wanted to do some fake running for the photo and the answer was always going to be yes. I broke into a pathetically slow trot — it was uphill after all — and she followed my lead.
Devil’s mashed potatoes with tomato soup
Yep. Instant mashed potatoes with tomato soup is the one! It tasted like gourmet. I was very excited to chill for 10 minutes. I changed my tee and swapped the sunnies for a buff. It was getting chillier and next time I would see the crew would be at Firle Beacon, in 21 miles. It would be well after midnight by then.
Potato mash and tomato soup? Yes please!
After some food, banter and a hug from the Australian, we were underway. It was Dai’s turn to pace now and I must say, he did a brilliant job opening all the gates for me on his stint. 5 stars. Can recommend.
Dai had recently spent some time in Austria with Natalia and I asked him to tell me all about their adventures, but before he agreed to do that, he forced me to eat some watermelon and chews... or something along those lines. Cannot actually remember exactly what I ate, but it is very likely to have been one of those two!
At Saddlescombe Farm, a couple of miles later, I had a cup of coke. I have not had caffeine since last year, so this could have been interesting. Luckily the body coped and we plodded on. We got to a part of the trail I have previously found really tedious, as it meanders around a golf course and the paths there are pretty plain.
We then ran down a country lane that quickly turned into a slight uphill, but I was determined to run it. At the next corner we would pass the Jack & Jill windmills, which meant I would have covered 70 miles. We approached the corner and there was Jules! Not a windmill; a good trail friend of ours. She was carrying a really cute homemade sign saying ’’GO Maria!’’ — and naturally, I was high on that encounter for the next many miles!
Despite having relatively recently eaten a big portion of mashed potatoes with tomato soup, I was still hungry. The dream team that are Sarah and Krysia had gone to McDonald’s for dinner and as the sweethearts they are, bought me a hamburger which was hand-delivered just after Ditching Beacon. It was delicious! I have not had McDonald’s for over 10 years, but the salt content in this beast was just perfect and genuinely made my taste buds sing.
Hamburger happiness
Dai asked me what the best sign I could see right now would be. I had a little think and then said: ’’Mmhm... the best sign I could see right now would be Eastbourne Sports Park and the worst would be Winchester.’’ — I remember feeling a little proud for having such clear, cognitive thoughts after having been running for over 15 hours. Ha!
Just after Housedean Farm, you go up over a bridge to cross the motorway, and as I was keen to get going and not lose any time, Dai was a hero and popped into the aid station for me to get me water and some food. I did not see him for what was probably around 10 minutes.
I had kept on plodding along and had bumped into Ian, a chap I had said hello to earlier on, and we pushed each other to run faster, so Dai actually struggled to catch us. It was rather humorous to see him bimble along with two full bottles, food for himself, food for me and a cup of Coke too. Sorry, buddy! I promise we will slow down very soon...
Sunset. Hours of head torch running incoming
I cannot remember where exactly, but after having gone up yet another hill, the temperature suddenly dropped and I was FREEZING! It was pitch black now. Dai was very quick to grab his wind breaker, buff and gloves from his own pack and wrap me up. The wind decided to make it a little harder to put it on by making the jacket wave around for what felt like 15 minutes, but we got there in the end. Warmth. Gratitude. Happiness.
Hips don’t lie
My goal was to get to Eastbourne within 24 hours, so it was about now, 19 hours in, that we started to look at the clock. Dai worked out that my current pace would get me there in time, but I could not slow down much more. Back in October last year, we had been in Turkey to run a race called the Cappadocia Ultra Trail. I am yet to see it myself, but the tale goes that Dai can hike really, like REALLY, fast. His hips do not lie! It became the slogan of the trip. I was hoping I could channel my inner Shakira like he did and get my ass to Eastbourne in under 24 hours.
I still had half of the McDonald’s hamburger in Dai’s vest. A bite of burger, some water, a Veloforte chew, fast hike, repeat. It took me a couple of hours to eat that burger, but I never fully stopped eating and my body did not reject anything. Apart from burps. Lots of burps. In fact, I think I got a PB in burping that day! It was named and remembered as the Burpageddon.
Race you to the top! I was likely
burping at this point too
We now approached Southease and whilst Dai went to top up my water, again, I found a chair. I must have drunk a total of like 12 litres that day, because each individual top up was 500ml and I, my pacers or crew usually did both bottles in one go.
He also grabbed me a cup of tea with sugar, and made me eat a cheese sandwich and some satsumas. He only had a couple of miles left to pace, as after the next hill Krysia would be with me until Eastbourne. Or should I say hills. It was definitely plural!
Enter the caffeine
I gave up caffeine in 2021, so my last cup of coffee was on New Years Eve last year. I knew we might arrive to a point during the race where caffeine was needed; I was going to be up for over 35 hours in total after all, and I barely slept the night before. I work for a company called NOCCO which are performance energy drinks, so naturally I had a can of that in the crew car.
We got to Firle Beacon, where Sarah & Krysia were patiently waiting. I polished off some more potato mash and tomato soup, changed out of Dai’s wind breaker and my sweaty tee into a fresh, warm long sleeve. This is also where I started using poles — which were much needed at this point.
I necked half a can of NOCCO and Krysia and I got going. The caffeine soon kicked in and with the help of my poles and Krysia’s lovely chat, we were going at a pretty rapid pace taken into consideration that I had been running over 86 miles at this point.
Smashing some mashed potato in the boot
There were only 3 miles between Firle Beacon and Bo Peep, and those 3 miles went by so quickly. I should have taken the poles with me earlier on! It was now around 3am and I was tired, so I took a few more sips of the NOCCO, as next time I would see the crew would be when Krysia and I arrived in Eastbourne.
Downhills & blown up legs
Soon after we left Bo Peep, the course started to descend into Alfriston, the second last aid station. It was downhill for what seemed like forever and my quads were tired, but with help from my poles and encouraging words from Krysia, we eventually got there. I sat down whilst my water bottles were being topped up, thanks to the wonderful volunteer, and Krysia brought me a cup of tea with two spoons of sugar. Heaven in a cup at that hour. Rodger, a lad I had been running with earlier in the day, was at Alfriston too, getting himself a cup of coffee.
Alfriston aid station, mile 91
It was now past 3.30am and I was feeling the sleep deprivation. No hallucinations, but all the emotions. Someone mentioned that we were only 2 hours away from Eastbourne and I burst into tears with joy, 2 hours? Oddly I was not ready for the journey to end so soon!
We got going again and I think I gave Krysia a hard time here. It was a slog to say the least. My moaning got louder and louder, and my pace slower and slower. And I needed silence, so I put a grumpy damper to Krysia’s adorable chirpy attempt on keeping a conversation going. I was in the hurt house and needed some quiet time to make peace with the pain.
We went right past Jevington, the last aid station. All there was left between me and Eastbourne was 4 miles. I had run 96 miles. We powered on, albeit at a rather slow pace. I was mostly walking now as running was too painful. The sun had started to rise and we were met with the most beautiful view every time we climbed a hill.
Just plodding along next to the sunrise
I kept looking out for the trig point which would indicate the last turn on the trails before descending into Eastbourne and 2 miles of tarmac. Rodger was right behind us and we kept leap frogging each other. He had done some damage to his knee and was left with one leg to get him to the track.
Krysia was back to being her lovely chatty self again and multitasked by hand-feeding me a Spring Energy Awesome Sauce gel. Apple pie vibes and 180 delicious calories. I was happy that I was still able to eat at this point.
We eventually ascended the last hill and the trig point came into view, we could see Eastbourne now. 3 miles to go, but before anything else, the Gully of Doom: a narrow chalk path meandering down through ungroomed trees. One had fallen onto the path and we had the choice between climbing over or going under. I chose the latter, which was rather painful... onwards and upwards. Or, downwards really.
My legs were not happy with this move
The ground was quite slippery, it was just after dusk and the morning mist had made the trails wet. Water and chalk is not a great combo, so soon enough Krysia slipped and fell. Then Rodger. Then me. I landed in such an awkward position that my foot went into a mega cramp and I needed help to get up. It was pretty comical and I was so sleep deprived I could not stop giggling.
Before leaving the trails for good, I had another wee. I think this must have been wee number 20 of the day. My system was still working! It was getting hard to get the shorts on and off though and there was no way I was going to squat down at this point.
Soon enough we came onto the tarmac. We were here. In Eastbourne. The streets were empty. There was a nice cool breeze and the track was less than 2 miles away. Krysia reminded me just how close we were and we started running. It took a little while for the tired legs to get going but get going they did.
I was wearing a lot of clothes at this point — a long sleeve, a jacket, a buff and a pair of gloves — but there was nothing that was going to stop me from running all the way to the end now. I could smell the buckles.
We came out from a little zigzagging path that picks you up from the main road and spits you out near the sports park, and there were Sarah, Dai and Brett waiting. I sped up even more and they tagged along, as crew, family and friends are allowed to run the lap of the track with you.
We entered the track and I turned the gear up a notch, practically sprinting around the track... my story, my verbs. The crew struggled to keep up, or at least they pretended to. I was running 5 minute kilometres which was a huge gear change compared to the previous 14 min / km pace.
Just before running underneath the arch and over the line that would register my chip time, we all held hands and raised them high in the sky. We crossed the line in unity. It was done. 25 hours, 5 minutes and 50 seconds later. I had run 100 miles.
If relief had a face
I came home with a pair of very sore legs, a shiny buckle and a beautiful farmer’s tan that I could not wait to show off at work on the Tuesday. Let the eating commence and the recovery begin...
South Downs Way 100 in numbers
100 miles — or, 99.2, but who’s counting at that point
3700 + meters of elevation
25 hours, 5 minutes and 50 seconds of running
31st female of 85 starters = top 37 %
167th overall of 405 starters = top 42 % overall
104 DNFs of which 17 were female
Over 200.000 steps
1 watch charge
1 pair of socks throughout
1 pair of shoes throughout
0 blisters
From the bottom of my heart
Thank you to my wonderful crew, who looked after me so well during the entirety of the race. You guys are truly the best and should you ever need a crew or a pacer, you know where to go.
...and a special thank you to Sarah, who has been coaching me since April. Without your invaluable knowledge leading up to Race Day, it would not have been so successful. I will pay you back in homemade cookies!
Thank you to my Australian half, who hired a car and drove down to see me in Cocking and again at Devil’s Dyke, then onto Eastbourne to spend parts of the night at a hotel, before driving up to the Sports Track to run a lap with me and the crew, and then dropping off Dai and Krysia on our way back to London. Hero.
Thank you to Paul for the perpetual belief, remember a couple of years ago when I had just run a marathon and you said: ’’I cannot wait to see you at the start line of a 100 miler!’’? You were actually there. It helped settle the nerves and I appreciate you so much. Oh, and thanks for the photos!
Thanks to Jon and Jules, who went out their way to come and cheer me on during the race. Seeing your smiling faces was a bigger boost than you could ever imagine. Paul Martin too, who so happened to be walking past me at some point.
And last but not least — thank you to my mind and body, my legs and feet in particular, you worked very hard that Saturday and I am so proud of you.
When can we do it again?
Did I mention I ran 100 miles?
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