North Downs Way 50

Yesterday’s run was, not surprisingly, the hardest run of my life.  I spoke to a few other runners and felt like a complete novice.  Several had either run the 100km CCC or the 168km UTMB around Mont Blanc, there were several veterans of 100 mile races on the North and South Downs, as well as others who had run the 56 miles from London to Brighton.  This was my first 50 mile run and I was a little unsure about how to pace it.  My strategy was to simply focus on getting from one checkpoint to the next, to walk as soon as I felt my heart rate was a little high, take in plenty of food and fluid on the run and to expect to be running from between 8 to 9 hours.

This would be my first very long run with a backpack, so a good test of equipment.  I opted to run in my Innov8 trail shoes, even though they have minimal cushioning.  This was also primarily as a test of footwear.  Ruth was to meet me at mile 31 with two pairs of shoes so I could change if I needed to.

If you have never visited the North Downs then I would highly recommend it.  The run itself was stunning, even if it was tough.  The first 24 miles was a fairly undulating run through some very nice countryside.  I managed to take a few photos over the first half of the run.  I spent some time running and chatting to a few other runners, including the top three women who were amongst the top 15 overall and looking very comfortable at this stage.  Unfortunately, the third lady had to pull out at mile 31 with an injury.  This was a fate that thwarted several very experienced runners.

I made just one navigational error.  Just before reaching the 3^rd checkpoint at mile 24 I took a slight detour, which added three quarters of a mile to my run.  This took me from about 6^th place overall to 20^th.  I managed to regain a few places by the time I reached the third checkpoint.  From here we crossed a stream via some stepping stones and then had an incredibly steep climb up Box Hill via an uneven staircase.

The climb of Box Hill was a taster of how the rest of the run would be.  There were then another four or five challenging climbs over the final half of the run.  Some of the climbs were so steep that it would have been impossible to run up them even with fresh legs.  By the time I reached the top of each climb, which was always done at a walk, my legs were so wobbly that it was impossible to start running again, even if there was an immediate downhill.

One thing I learnt about my kit is that a rucksack and water bladder is perhaps not the best thing for a long run, especially if you are concerned about time.  The alternative is to have a smaller backpack with two water bottle attachments on the front of the arm straps.  The problem with a bladder is that you have no idea of how much liquid you have left, and it also takes longer to fill up at each checkpoint.  I also made another big mistake with my backpack bladder.  When I met Ruth at the fourth checkpoint at mile 31 I asked her to give me some electrolyte powder, which I mixed with water.  However, I clearly hadn’t spent enough time shaking the bladder to mix the water and powder.  A couple of miles beyond the checkpoint I tried to take a drink, but nothing came through.  I had to stop, pull the bladder out of my backpack and inspect it.  I found a big lump of undissolved electrolyte powder around the opening of the drinking hose inside the bladder, acting as a plug and preventing any fluid from getting through.  There were also some clumps of powder within the hose.  I spent a couple of minutes trying to break up the clump of powder and shake the bladder around.  I then ran and did a combination of blowing into the straw and sucking hard to try and loosen the clumps within the hose. 

If I had used a backpack with two water bottle attachments instead I believe I could have kept up with a few of the other front runners who managed to get through each checkpoint quicker than me.  However, saying that my goal was simply to complete the distance.

A few times over the last 20 miles I found myself running in a bit of a trance.  There were times when I’d suddenly realise I hadn’t been paying attention to my surroundings.  Not taking in the views was one thing, but missing direction signs was a more serious concern.  At one point I came round when I was running on a tarmac road, just a few minutes previously I could remember running on a dirt track, but I had no memory of the junction between the two.  Had I turned off the dirt track onto the road? If so, had I paid attention to any direction signs or was I going the wrong way?  Just as I started to fear that I might be going the wrong way again I came across a reassuring North Downs Way finger post.  Phew!  I told myself to pay more attention.  But I had a few other moments like this.

At another point I crossed a style.  Beyond the style there were three paths leading in different directions.  I turned left and ran on a few paces.  I then had no idea why I had made the choice to turn left.  Had I seen a North Downs Way arrow?  I ran back to the style and crossed it again.  Sure enough on the other side there was a finger post pointing to the left for the North Downs Way.  Clearly I had taken in the information but hadn’t formed any memory of it.

When I reached the 5^th checkpoint at mile 38 I would have gladly stopped.  My GPS watch had run out of battery life just before the checkpoint, so from here on I was effectively running without any pace information, not that it would have made any difference to how I was running.  There was just one other checkpoint to reach between here and the finish.

Another steep climb followed the 5^th checkpoint followed by a steep staircase going down a hillside.  Those who have run a marathon will know how challenging it can be to walk down a flight of stairs after running 26 miles.  Going down stairs after about 40 miles of running was hell.

I remember that making progress over the last 20 miles taking the form of four distinctly different ways of running/walking.  Any slight decline was to be welcomed as it was the only way of running without any real pain and to also make really good progress.  Flat terrain or a very slight incline could be run but only with real focus and determination, whilst always looking forward to a steeper incline to act as a natural break from running.  Steep inclines, therefore, were welcomed as they provided a much needed break from running, even if walking up them was still hard work.  Any steep downhill was agony.  I felt I had to at least attempt to run down steep hills, but all the time my quads screamed with pain, and I was also filled with fear of having a serious fall.

I reached the final checkpoint at mile 43 at exactly 3pm.  It had taken me 7 hours to reach this point and I had just 7 miles to go.  Those 7 miles would take me 1 hour and 17 minutes.  I knew at this point that I was in 10^th place, which I hoped to maintain.  With about 3 miles to go I could see a long way behind me and couldn’t see any other runners.  I carried on feeling fairly confident I would finish in 10^th, which I liked the sound of. 

On the approach to the finish at the village of Knockholt Pound the organisers had put out a ‘2k to go’ sign on a gate, the only distance marker on the entire route.  As I passed through the gate I looked behind me and could see a runner approaching.  He wasn’t wearing a number on his front, so I assumed he wasn’t doing the NDW50.  However, a few runners had opted to put their numbers on their backpacks instead of on any clothing, even though this was against race regulations.  Not wanting to take a chance I decided to pick up my pace.  I was amazed to find some extra speed in my legs after running for just over 48 miles.  I reached the village, turned onto the main through road and then into the field behind the village hall for a final uphill run to the finish arch, which I covered at what felt like a sprint.  There was very little fan fair at the finish.  Ruth was there to take a photo, but I was too exhausted to do any posing or to give her a hug.  I was absolutely done in, but very pleased to have finished my first 50 mile run in 10^th place out of 200 starters and in a time of 8 hours 17 minutes.

I managed to complete the run in my Innov8 trail shoes, but any rocky downhill section felt like agony to my feet.  On a positive note, all my toe nails are intact and I have just one sizeable blister, so not bad for 50 miles.  I am, however, walking around like a very old man today.

The big learning experience from this run is my need to do way more hill training.  I had completely under estimated the hills on the North Downs Way.  We had climbed a total of 1750m and each major climb wrecked my legs.  In August I will be running the same distance in the Swiss Alps, but with a total of 5000m of climbs!  I need to get to the Lake District for a few training weekends between now and then.  I am also now very concerned about how I will cope with running for three times the time in the 24 hour Thunder Run in August.

Ready for 50 miles

200 runners at the start in Farnham

Enjoying the first few undulating miles.

The boat owner with bacon sandwiches and jelly babies at mile 10.
First lady just crossing the bridge.

Second lady just behind me. 

Second checkpoint on St Martha's Hill at mile 12.5.

The North Downs Way is a mix of exposed south facing slopes...

...and shady forest trails.  Second lady again.  Just before I went  wrong at  mile 20.

The stepping stones just before Box Hill (not my picture).

The relentless stairs on the climb of Box Hill at the half way point.

Typical view from the NDW.

Re-fueling at the 4th checkpoint - mile 31.

What civilised people do at the weekend, whilst the uncivilised run 50 miles.

Hell at mile 40.

At the finish, smiling but feeling utterly done in.

The leader board.  I'm in 10th place.  First two ladies are 5th and 8th overall.
The first man was in a league of his own.  Both the male and female course records
were smashed.  The previous men's record was 7:22:48 and the ladies' 9:20:07.