North Downs Way 100: lessons from my first 100-miler – Runner’s World (UK)

When I finally arrived at Ashford Stadium, 103 miles and 23 hours after leaving Farnham, the relief was immense. Unless I posted an unprecedented 61-minute lap of the track, I was going to complete my first 100-miler in less than 24 hours. That had been the dream, the motivation behind months of training. Now it was about to become reality.

It’s hard to condense the experience into 10 neat bullet points, but I’ve attempted to do so in the hope that it might encourage other people who are thinking of stepping up to the 100-mile distance.

The three Ns

A member of my crew on the day and a very experienced ultrarunner himself, Mark Thornberry, text me on the morning of the race to tell me about the three Ns: ‘Nutrition, niggles, noodle – get on top of them from the off and the job’s a good ‘un.’ Noodle, in this instance, is your head, not the stringy foodstuff. Heeding Mark’s words, I dealt with an early niggle – a hotspot on my left foot – before it blistered. This simple act possibly saved my race. A final word on the subject of hotspots/blisters: it’s worth packing some Leukotape in your kit bag. In my experience, it works much better than Compeed when it comes to blister protection.

Do the strength and conditioning work

This is a not a low-mileage guide to ultrarunning. That said, I’m sure my weekly mileage (between 35-40) was lower than most people on the start line. My week was made up of four runs: an interval session on Monday, easy run on Wednesday, something hilly on Friday, long run on Saturday. Alongside this, I did two focused sessions of S&C work on Tuesdays and Thursdays. These were about 40mins each on total and divided between the Swiss ball exercises outlined in Eric Orton’s The Cool Impossible (worth a read, despite its toe-curlingly naff title) and some weights work. The majority of this involved single-leg exercises: single-leg deadlifts, lunges, shoulder presses, etc. Alas, my ‘guns’ remained fairly unimpressive, but this S&C work did mean I kept decent running form deep into the race.

Above the neck, below the ankles

You meet incredibly people doing these races. In the first quarter of the NDW100, I spoke briefly with a man who was trying to complete the Centurion Grand Slam, which involves running four 100-milers in a year. His advice: ‘Your body is physically capable of doing this stuff. Races are lost either above the neck or below the ankles.’ In other words, if you keep your head and your feet in the game, you can cover the distance.

Find a way, not an excuse

Forgive the motivational jargon. I’m not trying to sound like a fridge magnet. It’s just that during a race of this distance, you’ll have plenty of excuses to quit. Mine ranged from some serious stomach issues for the first 50 miles, followed by some increasingly painful ITB issues for the second 50 miles. During these moments, you have to become a problem solver. How can I adapt my nutrition strategy? Is this ITB pain actually going to cause me long-term damage or just short-term pain? Outlining my vague racing plan to ultrarunner Robbie Britton before the race, he said: ‘Always good to have a plan for an ultra, but also to remember the words of Mike Tyson: “Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face.” Running 100 miles is kind of link getting punched in the face by Mike Tyson. The plan gets messed up.’ To extend the boxing analogy further, the key to ultrarunning success is to take the shots and keep coming forward.

Don’t dawdle at aid stations

Centurion Running’s aid stations are the stuff of legend. Alongside all the runner-friendly food and drink – watermelon, cheese sandwiches, flat Coke – are wonderful volunteers, most of them ultrarunners themselves, who’ll fill up your water bottles and offer words of encouragement. The aid stations are also the places where people quit. On a purely practical level, it’s hard to DNF on a hill in the middle of nowhere. For that reason, the successful ultrarunner runner must wrest themselves from the aid station as soon as food and drink are taken. Remember the ultrarunning adage: ‘Beware the chair.’

Eat, drink and be merry

That said, food and drink do make you feel a whole lot more positive. A quick gulp of a gel or slice of watermelon did wonders for me when motivation was waning. I can’t claim to have got my nutrition strategy exactly right, so have few words of wisdom to offer on the subject, but it was remarkable how different I felt mentally after consuming a couple of mouthfuls of food. While a swig of water didn’t have quite the same heady thrills as a cheese sandwich, a late-stage mug of tea was the stuff of the gods.

Have a support team

If you’re lucky enough to have people offer to crew for you, take them up on it. I am eternally grateful to my wife Georgie and friend Mark Thornberry for providing crewing duties. Having a team around you boosts your belief and moral. It also means that when your ITB is playing up, one of them is prepared to drive to Boots and pick up some Tiger Balm to lather you with. The same is true of a pacer, which Centurion allow you to have for the final 50 miles of the race. Running with my great friend George Bull, as we have done countless times over the North Downs Way, made the second half of the race immeasurably more pleasurable.

Take a hike

Unless you’re planning on winning the race, it’s likely that that you’ll spend a sizeable portion of your first 100-miler walking. Damian Hall, an ultrarunner far faster and more experienced than I, swears by long hikes in a weighted vest. While I left the vest at home, I did manage to do lots of hiking over the past 12 months. There were a handful of outings in excess of 30 miles and I even managed to get passably good with a pair of trekking poles, which I used for large parts of the second half of the race. More than this, though, I learned to LOVE hiking. Walking up a steep hill in the second half of the race, I turned to my pacer George and said, “I associate these walking poles with great times; a bit like how you associate the smell of suncream with holidays.” To George’s eternal credit, he refrained from telling me how deeply strange I sounded.

Invest in the finish

A strange one, this. But a valid one, too. Book yourself some accommodation at the finish. As well as the practical benefits of getting some shut-eye after a 100-miler, it’s a statement of intent: I’m getting to the finish so will need somewhere to sleep. The same is true of the drop bags which Centurion allow you to leave at 50 and 80 miles. With a crew, I didn’t really need a drop bag at 80 miles, but I had one anyway. Why? Because it said, ‘I am getting to at least 80 miles in this race.’ And once you’re at 80, well, you might as well finish…

Do it somewhere special

The South Downs Way is prettier; the West Highland Way more spectacular. But the North Downs Way has a special place in my heart. When I first became interested in trail running, it was here that I headed. I have run up its hills on Boxing Day, with company and without, for physical health and for mental solace. I love its vineyards and its churches, but I also love its bridges and its underpasses. It is a strange, ever-changing route, merging the natural with the manmade. And it begs to be run. When it came to choosing my first 100-miler, it had to be here: on the North Downs Way, where it all begun. If, after reading this article, you’re still interested in running 100 miles, here’s my final piece of advice: do it somewhere you love.