One Hundred Miles of Memories

Our first 100 miler in the UK

It’s 10am and we are waiting for the whistle to begin our first 100 mile race in Richmond, London. We had eaten some toast around 7am that morning before my dad drove us across the city and were already hungry. To say we were unprepared for what was about to happen to our bodies was probably an understatement but we had trained and were going to finish this race no matter what.

It had taken us 2 years after our first 50 miler to build up the courage to sign up for this race. I remember the evening that we registered vividly. Sarah and I were slightly inebriated and having a really nice conversation about what we wanted to do and what races we would like to run together. Gavin, who had just joined us at the start-line was our main inspiration having run numerous 100 milers, including the UTMB. It was the photos he had sent from France and Switzerland that had set us on this journey, knowing that this was a qualifier.

Feeling excited but slightly hungry, constantly wanting to pee and then having Gavin point out my white socks really added to how much of a n00b I felt. Always starting a race, I have that feeling of exhilaration and trepidation but none more so than this. We were surrounded by a crowd where everyone seemed elite and having their sh*t together. Here I was donning my white socks and standing out like a sore thumb. I’m pretty color blind but even I can’t blame my eye sight on my poor sock selection.

We made our way to the startline with my dad taking high quality photos with his professional camera equipment. I could only hope that these photos would perform some magic and turn me into a serious minded athlete looking and performing the part of an ultra competitor. More likely the high quality images just highlighted the wardrobe deficit and green color of my face.

The whistle is blown and we are off along the riverfront skipping along the cobbled stones. I try to wave to my dad but even though our pace is pretty pedestrian we soon leave him behind. We had considered trying to run with Gavin but soon abandoned that knowing his previous experience and understanding that we would unlikely be able to keep up. Instead Sarah, Ken, and I briskly trotted along enjoying each other’s company, and savoring the adventure we were embarking on in the crisp morning air.

Ken became our best friend and ultra running buddy after meeting through mutual friends who brought us together to compete on a Tough Mudder team back in 2013. Just a few months after meeting, he joined us for our first 50 miler, crewing/pacing us through the finish line, and completing his first unofficial marathon at the same time. It was then that he became fascinated, like us, about trail running and going the distance. Flash forward a couple years, a few big adventures, and countless miles later to the night we finally decided to pull the trigger on a 100 miler. I'll never forget it. Sarah and I were at one of our local breweries, sitting at the bar with warm faces and glazed expressions after signing up on our phones following an intense discussion and decided we must call Ken to get him on board. I’m not exactly sure how much wine Ken had consumed but he immediately caught our spirit and enthusiasm and RUI'd (Register Under the Influence) on the spot as we spoke.

The race is point to point from London to Oxford, the first 51 miles to Henley no crew or pacers are allowed so we settled into a nice jog where we could chat, take photos, admire the wildlife, boaters, and bar revellers as they enjoyed their first drink with breakfast or an early lunch. Pretty early on Sarah needed to relieve herself but with nowhere to go and very little cover, Ken and I stepped in. Being in tip top shape and having less mass since our training, our covering action was pretty slim to say the least. Curious runners passing by who made the mistake of looking beyond to assess the scene, quickly turned their heads and realized that their curiosity might have got the better of them after exclaiming oh, oops - sorry. This type of event became pretty commonplace as the race progressed and after a while second looks were rarely given.

We passed Hampton Court Palace and then Windsor Castle, taking photos and wondering at the scenery the race provided. However, Sarah was really starting to struggle and Ken was complaining a lot, blaming me for our pre-race excursion to Wales, running the local mountains, and then for the all day bar crawl around London the day before with my Dad and eldest brother Chris.

Were we meant to take it easy before the race? Sure but how could I pass up the opportunity of showing the beautiful countryside where I had grown up and then having my brother who lives in London not give us a tour. I was particularly excited to show Ken our Welsh hills knowing the paradise it is and how when I was there, I hadn’t really appreciated it for what it provided. For the most part we took it easy but as we drove through the Brecon Beacons I just had to take him up the highest mountain in Southern Wales, Pen Y Fan. In my defence I did drive to the highest point from where it’s under a mile to the summit. However, it’s pretty steep and the weather turned on us, so the experience may have seemed a little more taxing than expected.

The day before the race, our all day walk and pub crawl around London added to Ken's anxiety and it was easy for him to focus on that as the cause of fatigue instead of the lack of food and our general unpreparedness. I focus a little more on Ken here because I like picking on him and know he will read this and be put out by it but knowing he can’t argue. Sarah on the other hand was really struggling and this was a big surprise knowing that she was easily the strongest runner of our little group. After crawling through the first few miles and trying to determine why Sarah was feeling so sick and depleted at mile 22, one of the aid station helpers at Wraysbury asked whether she had been taking salt. She had been putting a little on her food but we really did not understand the importance of salt/electrolytes at this time. Magically, two little tabs were provided that after being ingested resulted in a sudden transformation. She immediately needed the bathroom, the nausea went away and then picked up the pace. This didn’t result in an upturn in Ken’s outlook, instead it may have exacerbated his mood having to now increase his pace. I on the other hand was feeling amazing and continued to do so. I was having the best race but this could have been due to the prolific amounts of pain killers I had taken early on.

After our early struggles we got into a nice rhythm and were looking forward to the halfway point at Henley where we knew hot food, a change of clothes, and a morale boost from our “crew” awaited our arrival. I had organized an AirBnb for my Dad to stay in the area and he was going to meet us at this crew point. Another of my best friends Corinne also planned to meet us and actually pace us for either a 7 miles section to Reading or a little further to Pangbourne for just under 16 miles through the night. We arrived around 11 hours in, feeling pretty good about the time and as it was the fastest we had run 50 miles. The daylight was fading at this point but we were in good spirits having my Dad there and Corinne ready join for the night shift. I grabbed some pasta and had a seat, sharing our experiences of the day with my Dad who couldn’t quite grasp what we were trying to do. In fact he raised quite the chuckle from fellow runners and crewers at the aid station when he asked if we were ready to ‘Pack it in’. I kindly had to explain that, no Dad, we are not done with the race yet. We plan to continue running through the night and would meet him in Oxford sometime tomorrow. We sent him on his way and thanked him for the laugh, making our way out of the tent with renewed vigor due to the energy from our new pacer and the warm food we had eaten.

One of the most defining remarks that were made was by my dear friend and pacer Corinne. After she had finished a marathon with us, only ever having run a half before, she stated that it was one of the top 10 things she had ever done in her life. I will never forget this and I will always look back on it feeling the same way. I would also like to add that she came up with the ingenious idea of using one of Sarah’s bib pins to pop her blister after we had failed to find anything for the last 20 miles that it had been bothering her. Who knew they were double purpose?

There really isn’t a way to replicate the experience of that first 100 miler and with so many friends and family supporting us there never will be again. We ran that night section in a bit of a daze, half limping, walking and making our way very slowly mile by mile. Her spirits kept ours up and the experience of running through the night is and always will be truly magical. By this point the scenery was pretty rural and a heavy bank of fog had descended on us. Barely able to see we kept our focus, trying not to wander into the river and helping each other as we went. The hardest moments of an ultra for me are around 3, 4 in the morning when the tiredness encroaches and you are just trying to hang on, resisting the urge to lay down on the grass and take a nap. All you want is for the sun to come up, hoping that the light will encourage you to wake up and help you towards your destination.

Corinne had left us by the time the sun did rise and we started to feel more alive. Our next pacer Tobi was intending to meet us at Clifton Hampden with 15 miles to go. We were surprised when we found him running towards us before that and very happy to have his company. We met Tobi in Michigan when he stayed with us while working an internship for a consultancy company. For the race, he had travelled from Germany just to meet up with us and be a part of the experience. I think by this point, perhaps due to the cocodamol which makes you drowsy or because I had been awake for so long, I was really struggling to stay upright. I think it was the hardest thing I had ever experienced and to add to that it was extremely hot. Having Tobi there, dragging us along with his bright smile and easy manner really got me to the end. It was a total slog those last 15 miles and we were pretty frustrated when we hit 100 miles and were told that there were 3 more miles to go.

I had a yellow shirt on when I finally made it to the finish. Hendrik and his sister had also flown from Germany to be with us and it was a shirt he had given me during his stay with us working the same internship program as Tobi. I remember throwing it at him as we made our way to the finish where my Dad, sister Rachael with her kids Eddie and Izzy, Corinne, Paul and Gavin were all waiting. Sarah, Ken and I all held hands as we finished in 27 hours and it was a pretty emotional moment. When I was in University I remember my Dad and two elder brothers going on trips together. I was still studying and unable to join them but having him be a part of this experience meant a lot. My sister surprising Sarah and I with a big hug topped off the experience and made it pretty hard for me to hold it together. I remember collapsing on the floor next to Gavin who had finished a little earlier and was fast asleep. He gave me a life saving pork pie after waking and we chatted about the race while I got to play with my niece and nephew who I hadn’t seen in over a year.

After laying there for a while I realized I probably needed a shower and Paul who was there with his son was kind enough to help me hobble to the shower. I don’t think I have ever been beat up so badly from a race and I have never felt like that since. The next day staying at our rental in Oxford I was struggling to walk from one room to another. Both my dad and I were using hiking poles to get around after he took a fall at the house so we looked like a right pair.

Was this a stellar performance? Absolutely not, but as an experience it will never be forgotten for the time we got to share with friends and family. Ken, Saran and I have gone on to run many more races together but this one will always be remembered with the most fondness. You never forget your first...