My ultra marathon experiment - Cotswolds Way Challenge 50k

On the back of my previous blog post on the benefits of trail running I wanted to share my experience of my first ultra marathon that I ran last Saturday 30th June.

I ran the London Marathon in 2010. This was my first marathon and last one I ran. Mostly because of the time commitment required for training, which was too great to fit in around my full-time job and young family (my children are 6 and almost 3 respectively). Then in November 2017 I ran the Cancer Research Tough 10k in Box Hill, an experience which I found both painful and enjoyable. That prompted me to sign up for something bigger. At that point I was hoping to go part-time in my job, which made the training for a potential ultra-marathon seem achievable. So I took a leap of faith and signed up for the Cotswolds Way 2nd Half Challenge 50k.

Sightseeing whilst running...

William Tyndale Monument

Whilst I had trained entirely on my own for the London Marathon, when I had time to devise my own training programme, I decided to join a running club (the Wimbledon Windmilers) and got myself a running coach (Trevor de Silva from ExecFit) this time round. That allowed me to take all the guess work out of my training, make more efficient use of my time, solely focused on running. Trevor provided a very detailed training plan starting in January, with the aim to get me stronger and then build up my endurance up to 100k/week.

Hurdle 1:

However things did not go to plan. I had been having some issues with Morton’s Neuroma last year. I changed shoes a few times to try and resolve it but by February I started to experience pain in other areas of my foot. Orthopaedic specialist visit and one MRI later, I got diagnosed with inflammation of the sesamoids in both feet. I was advised to stop running for about 5 weeks and got referred to a podiatrist. Thanks to the support of my coach I was able to keep up my endurance fitness by cross-training, mainly on a stationary bike in the gym. The only thing that kept me sane was the fact that I could select a visual route of a ride going through either snowy Alps or the Death Valley. Anything to keep me my mind off the fact that I was unable to run. It worked. Then I got orthotics, changed shoes again, going for cushioned Hokas. But somehow Morton didn’t leave me alone. One thing that helped me though was a Chi Running Workshop that I had attended back in January. I knew that I had a long stride with a heavy heel-strike. I noticed than shortening my stride actually helped alleviating my symptoms so I had found a way to manage the issue.

Hurdle 2:

Then I got hit by a persistent flu-type thing. I have had it since April time and I am still occasionally coughing up green sputum so it clearly hasn’t fully gone. Another of the symptoms is that my left ear became blocked before a trip away to Italy end of May, and still hasn’t cleared despite two courses of different antibiotics. Clearly a very annoying virus. Because the doctor assured me it wasn’t chesty (that included going for a chest X-ray) I kept training through it because I had lost enough time due to my foot injury.

Training:

I’m highlighting the above hurdles because I think it’s important for a runner to understand that things may not go to plan in training, no matter how good your plan is. Life happens. And then you have to make a call: is this something you should or shouldn’t run through? In the end that means that I only got to a peak of about 70k/week during my training instead of 100k (and my longest run was only 28k). But I was ok with that: I did what I could.

Race Day:

After much anticipation on my part, race day arrived. I was nervous, mostly because I always get pre-race nerves (due to my competitive streak?). My husband and kids had come with me so they could cheered me on at half point (I expected I would need this). I had not checked how many runners would take on the challenge - admittedly a bit crazy due to the ascent -, but was rather surprised at the size of the field: only 7 of us at the start! Given that there were only 3 other ladies I knew I had a decent chance of a podium place before even starting (assuming I finished). Yay!

Off We Go:

So we set off and quickly dispersed as we hit the first hill pretty much straight away. I followed the two leading men for a while. And then eventually I fell back and was on my own. And the amazing thing is that’s pretty much how it stayed for the whole race. It was like going on a long leisurely (albeit very hilly) run. Except I knew there were 3 rest stops on the way, with full supply of drinks and food. The route thankfully was very well marked so I managed to navigate my way round quite easily.

0-16k:

I had however enormously underestimated how tough it would be. One of my friends who recently run the Heineken Race to the Tower (53 miles!) asked me what time I was hoping to do. I said I wasn’t overly concerned about my time but was hoping for something around 6 hours. I was not expecting to do as much walking as I ended up doing so it took a me much longer. Some of the uphills I found to be just not runnable (except possibly by a mountain goat or ultra-seasoned ultra-runner), so I took the sensible option of walking them and saving my legs for the flat and downhill bits (although it turns out the downhill bits were probably worse than the uphills in the end). I reached the first pit stop in one piece and barely stopped there because at that point I felt ok. Nutrition and hydration had gone fine, the legs a bit tired but not terribly so. I drank a bit of Coke, although my tummy protested during the following 2 miles due to the fizz (I had broken Rule #1 of long distance running of not experimenting with new food or drinks on race day). However I also made the crucial mistake not to top up my 2L Camelbak. I had significantly underestimated how much water I would be consuming on that hot day.

16k-29k:

I kept going towards the main rest stop but ran out of water around 23-24k. I thought that wasn’t too bad as I knew the rest stop was coming. Except I had also made the mistake not to check the map before setting off. As it turns out, the rest stop was at 29k. If it’s ever happened to you, you will know that running for just a few kilometres in the middle of nowhere with no water supply can become a little bit stressful. I kept running, and half-hearing crowds in the distance (I think it may have been due to dehydrated hallucination) but the rest stop just wasn’t in sight. Feeling defeated I decided to stop and pull the map out of my Camelbak only to realise I had one more kilometre to go. That single kilometre felt like a marathon in itself. By the time I reached the rest stop (just under 4 hours after starting) I was wobbly and could barely speak to my children. I had to sit on a mattress on the floor for a little while, re-hydrate and get some food. At that point, it seemed impossible to cover a further 21k. I felts sorry for my family, who had been waiting for me for over an hour (my husband had been grossly over optimistic about my time) and for who I had no energy left. I tried talking to my children just enough so they knew I was ok. I didn’t stay too long at the rest stop though, as I knew if I did my muscles would get cold and it would make it harder to start again.

29k-45k-52k:

The remaining 21k were not as tough as the first 29 thankfully although there was much walking involved. I only ran up the small hills and saved my legs for the flatter / downhill bits. But somehow, I was never tempted to stop. One of my friends asked me the next day what kept me going. I answered that I didn’t know. I don’t run with music and just immerse myself in the experience. And I’m always amazed that somehow I just keep going. But reflecting back I think visualisation has become such embedded in my running that I don’t even realise that it’s my primary coping mechanism. I visualise starting, running through forests and field, seeing animals, getting to the rest stops and refuelling, and finally crossing the finish line. I also visualise the alternative of pulling out, but never for very long and it looks ugly.

The Finish:

About 5k from the finish line, another ultra-runner overtook me (I had not been overtaken by anyone until that point, but I had passed the two leading men, one of them having to pull out for medical reasons unfortunately). This runner was absolutely flying and it was clear he was finishing the full challenge (100k). He kindly cheered me on by saying ‘come on, we’re near the finish now’ and that had the biggest boosting effect on me (that and the fact that we were going pretty much downhill from there). He ended up winning the race in an impressive time of 10:05.

A win:

As for me, I crossed the finish line in 7:15 to a handful of clapping race marshals - no public as such. But I felt elated. My Garmin indicated 51.6k, so more than what I had signed up for. But I didn’t mind the fact that the route had not been measured properly, I just felt this enormous surge of pride for having completed it. Then I found out I had won, which was totally amazing for my first ultra marathon. The leading man crossed the finish line over an hour behind me.

Reflections:

Although tough, I found the race to be a very mindful experience. I was on my own, running in these beautiful surroundings, with no time pressure as such (it never occurred to me I wouldn’t be finishing before night fall although in hindsight I should have packed a torch alongside my first aid kit), and minimal competition.

Would I do it again, a friend asked yesterday. To which I responded I don’t know. Today, as the pain is lessening, and I’m finally starting to take in the achievement, I would say it’s the best running experience I have ever had. Don’t get me wrong, I very much enjoyed running the London Marathon, it was a very uplifting experience. But as my first ultra marathon, the Cotswolds Way Challenge was very much the anti-London Marathon experience (no cheering crowds, solitary mindful run with mostly no noise but the sound of my feet) and one I fell in love with. Although I will be running the Edinburgh Marathon next year with the aim to qualify for the Boston marathon in 2020, I can see more trails and ultra-running races in my future.