Centurion Winter Downs 100
Matt arrived at my house at 10:20am, earlier than we needed to leave but it allowed us plenty of time.
Back in September ahead of a run together I told Matt I had something BIG I was thinking of doing to discuss with him. On that run we played a guessing game and he eventually got to the Winter Downs; “Yeeeeeah boi!” Was the sentiment I remember from his response.
I told him I thought he might think it was a bad idea! I’ve got form for being grumpy when spending excessive time on feet (see 5 hour limit) and if I don’t get 3 proper meals a day, etc etc. We agreed on paper, a terrible idea BUT that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do it.
He asked the date and then immediately and very enthusiastically volunteered to drive me to the start at Amberley Museum.
About 20 minutes after that run I booked my place.
A 2pm start time initially sounded great for getting a proper lunch before the run but when you start to factor in logistics of travel and registration it was actually a bit awkward. Rather than stop for food en-route we settled on a sausage and bacon baguette cooked at home. We did a final kit check and got on the road.
On the journey I asked Matt if he had any advice:
“Just keep moving forward. When it gets slow and you start walking, every little bit of running you do, be proud of yourself”.
Registration was quick and easy and the cafe at Amberley Museum was the perfect spot for hanging out before the start. We didn’t have much time to kill thanks to eating at home and leaving a bit later.
At 1:40pm runners were called to the race briefing near the start. I said my thanks and goodbye to Matt, as I walked down the steps from the cafe he shouted “don’t fuck it up“ loud enough lots of people heard and got a good laugh. Internally “don’t fuck it up“ was was already my motto. I’d prepared as best I could and the weather was favorable. I felt if I failed it would most likely be because I fucked it up with bad choices; running too fast or not looking after myself well enough.
In the briefing race director James Elson asked if it was anyone’s first hundred miler. I put my hand up, I didn’t see any other hands so am unsure if I was the only one. It would also be my first 50 mile, 100k or first anything further than 34 miles.
Nobody seemed keen to be near the front, I didn’t mind though, I was well up for this. I kept a few steps back for anyone that was keen but no takers. I had one concern. I didn’t know where we were going, I knew it was out the museum across the road and up a hill but that was it. I didn’t wanna be looking at my watch for the route and tripping people up. There was enough enthusiasm from others as we started that it didn’t become a problem.
The first section of the south downs had some wet and muddy parts but James had mentioned in the briefing conditions were good and that was the worst we’d have for a long while so when I got to it I knew it was worth skipping about to keep the shoes and socks dryer. If I thought it would get worse anyway I might have splashed though so this was some good intel.
I was cruising along nicely and mostly* enjoying the company of other runners as we all got into the race. I was enjoying the downs and the sunset. The orange glow through the woods at cocking was fantastic. Portsmouth city lights became visible in the distance, twinkling away adding to it.
*with the exception of those that would hang in your blind spot, breathing down your neck, using you to pace them and not talking. I let a few go and dropped a few others and probably resulted in running a little faster than I should at times.
Messages were popping up on my phone from Jenn and the kids and the Running Adventures WhatsApp group. Niall and Vanessa had volunteered at aid stations this year and I think it’s a race we’ve all enjoyed following over the years. I sent a few pictures and it was great to be sharing the experience in some way.
The first aid station was 30 miles in at the Sustainability Center, where I planned on proper food “dinner” and in the meantime I was eating well along the way. As the miles grew the desire to reach the aid station became greater.
I made a couple of minor navigation errors around Queen Elizabeth Country Park. We were in pure darkness at this point. Once the wrong choice at a fork in the trail and another up a bridge when we should have used an underpass. A guy overtook me at the first error and so we ended up making the second error together. We were chatting while moving towards Butser hill. He also saved me after we’d separated. I was taking a gel whilst climbing and realised I’d dropped the glove I took off. I had to run back down searching and as we met again he was waving it, having noticed and picked it up for me, thanks man!
Suunto race (watch) is amazing for maps but it has one MASSIVE flaw. When you have a route loaded there’s a notch at the bottom of the screen displaying distance remaining. No one wants to see that on ultras. It annoyed me in Andorra when miles just don’t seem to reduce. Rather than have it counting down the whole route I made sure I added waypoints to my GPX for the aid stations so it would count to those instead. It didn’t solve the problem because from about 6 miles out I was desperate for a break and the counter was mocking me, not reducing. I’d try to ignore it but without having recced the route and being in the dark I needed to look at the screen often. I’m sure sometimes it even jumped up.
I felt cooked when I finally reached the Sustainability Center. Tired legs and a hungry belly. I was happy to see the volunteers on the road and be guided in. Poles left by the door, and disposable covers over your muddy shoes and you’re in; sit down. The volunteers are really helpful, they’ll offer food and drink somewhere to sit, get you your drop bag and refill your bottles.
Pasta was on offer with tomato sauce (and cheese if you want it, I didn’t) I scoffed two bowls of pasta like I hadn’t eaten in weeks. I ate the roll from my drop bag and basically made a mess of the table by trying to do too much at once. Eat, drink, charge (watch and phone top ups) change into warmer clothes and take a look at my feet.
My right heel had been rubbing from about 10 miles in but I didn’t want to take my shoes off and mess about on trail so ignored it. I had a blister, I struggled to find a big enough plaster so bandaged it. My left foot had something sharp digging in the ball of my foot every so often but I couldn’t find the cause in my shoe. I changed socks, reorganised my pack and cracked on, I think I spent 20-30 min there.
As I left I was really surprised how good I felt, I could run fine again. The only other thing I changed was my music. I can’t remember what but it worked and combined with the food, socks and clothes change I was having a party. I felt great. I was practically dancing along the trail.
A few miles later I felt something dig in my left foot again and realised something may have gone through the whole sole, it had. I managed to pull a tooth shaped stone out the sole. I’ve kept it as a souvenir.
This next stint was shorter, about 18 miles to Bishops Sutton and there I’d see my friend Vanessa too. She’d already put a picture of my Waitrose drop bag in the running adventures group chat “someone’s doing well“, very fancy us Surrey folk you see.
I’d googled drop bags during the massive amount of time I had on my hands in the weeks resting pre race because otherwise if I was using a random assortment of backpacks and satchels someone on a forum suggested the insulated zip up shopping bags and job done. Great idea.
I don’t have much to say about the bit between the Sustainability Centre and Bishops Sutton other than it started feeling great, having a party, moving well and again as the counter on my watch got less it slowed. I felt fatigued again but also extremely tired. I had moments where I was running and my eyes would close, just for a split second. It happened many times and I actually enjoyed those split seconds. Maybe I should sleep at Bishops Sutton?
I had pondered sleep before the event; Could I get some sleep and perform better for it? Would I need it mentally? My only recent reference of going through the night was driving home in one from our family holiday in Italy. During this I had three 20 min naps on the side of the road and it did the trick for me mentally.
I got to Bishops Sutton and saw Vanessa - she got a sweaty hug. The set up was different to the Sustainability Center which had tables and chairs. This was a big hall with chairs in a line and space on front to faff with your kit. I looked at my foot again and realised there was blood soaked through my sock and into the heel of my shoe since I’d done a shit job bandaging it. Luckily it hadn’t hurt at all though.
I started faffing again with my disorganised bag of assorted plasters and found one big enough. At the same time Mario next to me said hey do it properly here you go and gave me bits out of his proper blister plaster kit. Thanks man! He needed some salt tablets. I was able to help him with those. Team work.
I was thinking about sleep. I had a coffee along with my food. The coffee wasn’t intended to replace sleep, I was thinking I could nap 20 min and it would kick in to help get moving. I debated in my mind and with Vanessa. I’d been in the aid station 40min by now and didn’t want to leave, I figured sleeping would only make that feeling worse. I decided I should get my arse in gear.
I started walking trying to get my body back into a rhythm. It was really cold outside now at least in comparison to the warm hall. I was feeling sick but not surprising when I think about it. At the aid station I had:
a bottle of lucosade
a coffee
a ham lettuce tomato roll
pasta with tomato sauce and olives
a bag of crisps
a corner yoghurt.
It felt like a lot for the space of time and the hour of night and I reached a few times walking but managed to keep it all down.
I ran a little, got a stitch, walked some more and realised well, I’m not sleeping. Walking is more progress than sleeping and I always planned a lot of hiking during the night so I accepted that a purposeful hike would be the approach.
I met another runner, Lee, in a field. He said his eyes kept dropping and asked if he could join me and chat to help him stay awake. This was welcome. He had a van waiting at Alton High Street where he could sleep if he needed it. I led us a few miles while we were chatting and he asked if I was local because I seemed to know where I was going. I took it as a compliment since I had no idea where I was but confidently could follow the route on my watch in the dark at 2am. Feeling like I was helping someone else took my mind off me and was just what I needed.
I got us running a bit. I felt proud when I managed to run, like Matt said I should. We separated a couple of times but ended up catching one another up each time and slogged it out.
The temperature had dropped! At 4am Jenn had called to check I was alright, I was and it was nice to talk but then I said I had to go because my hand was freezing out of the glove.
We reached Alton and I left Lee at his van. He insisted on giving me a can of coke and a croissant. It felt like great team work during that section and that we helped each other a lot. I took a selfie of us and sent Lee the pics I’d snapped of him that I thought were good ahead of me on the trail (they weren’t really).
The next milestone would be Farnham and the plan was more of the same. Purposeful hiking and to make it there for sunrise.
A little further down the high street my Dad appeared “bloody hell, you look great!” he said.
What are you doing here? You didn’t need to stay up all night!
We had talked about maybe using his van to sleep if I needed to but ruled it out as I figured the aid station would be timed ok if necessary.
We shared a quick hug and he checked if I needed anything, which I did but not something he could help with - a toilet! Typically in the worst spot for it having been out of civilization for ages when I could have gone anywhere. I kicked myself afterwards for not remembering it’s the one spot where you are ok to have someone walk with you for a bit. We could have walked and talked a bit longer.
It was great to see Dad and have encouragement even if I did feel bad it was so brief. I’m also regret not getting a selfie with Dad and everyone else who supported me.
Back when I told Dad I entered a 100 mile race in the middle of winter his response was “what?! you are going to die!” So I think he was there in case I needed to sleep but also if I’d realised I was an idiot and ready to go home.
Instead he started to see it. To believe I could do it. Dad has never liked or understood running but when he accompanied me to UTS in 2023 he was a huge support and loved tracking me and the race as a whole. When we spoke during the week before the Winter Downs I could tell he was keen and willing to support but I didn’t really think I needed it, I figured the aid stations were enough. I definitely didn’t want someone meeting me at every opportunity, I wanted the challenge of self sufficiency. I didn’t want anyone to have to stay up all night tracking me for maybe needing some sleep in a van but he did it anyway, thanks Dad!
The hike to Farnham continued. I had a good chat with a 200 miler (Mark, I think) leaving Alton High St and we met a few times after that too.
Warmth wasn’t a problem in my layers. I’d planned well and looked after myself. What was a problem though was the mud.
The section from Alton to Farnham was incredibly muddy to the point where bits I wanted to run I just couldn’t because I’d be on my arse. I used my poles to help march through with little grip under foot. The other downside was eating, poles and gloves keep your hands busy. It’s hard to eat and move. You’re in the middle of a muddy field so don’t want to put your bag down and faff with anything not already out, plus you’ll get cold very quickly.
Whilst I was breaking the journey down into smaller milestones I was still in the section between Bishops Sutton and Puttenham aid stations. A 30 mile gap. 30 miles from the start to the sustainability centre didn’t seem a big deal. But when you’ve got 50+ miles in your legs it’s a big gap.
I got out of the muddy fields and onto muddy roads. I was getting low, I didn’t expect the section to zap me so much, felt like I’d waited forever for sunrise and thought when it came I would feel a boost which didn’t immediately come.
My phone alarm went off at 7:30am which pissed me off because I had to get it out my vest to silence it and I was sure I’d already turned it off the day before. A few minutes later it happened again and I thought I might have only snoozed it but it was my friend Paul calling me from the Alps to check in and see how I was going. I told him at one point it looked like I was on for finishing between 2-4pm but now it was getting later and later as I was so slow. He said I sounded good and it didn’t matter, it’s your first hundred and it’s winter. 30 hours would be great.
It would and it didn’t matter - I’d even told Lee this during our time together. “Nobody gives a shit about your time other than you or me and it’s bullshit anyway, it just is what it is”.
Mostly I wanted to finish, no matter what time, I knew I’d be disappointed not to. Ideally I wanted to get myself home in bed at a sensible time Saturday evening. When I booked the race that’s what I imagined and in the run up I felt I’d be ecstatic if I achieved that. No specific time, just in bed Saturday night rather than Sunday morning.
I was snapping the beautiful sunrise across a misty field when a guy in a centurion jacket and beanie appeared and asked how I was doing and asked if I needed anything. He said he had to drop out Thursday due to injury. He said this is your first hundred isn’t it?* and told me I was a mile away from Farnham and to get myself a coffee as we parted I think he walked into one of the driveways on the muddy road.
*I since wondered how he knew, if he was also at the start or maybe he didn’t say it at all and it was just in my mind.
You arrive in Farnham through the University to the back of Waitrose which was open and the perfect spot to refuel but I was so muddy I didn’t think I should go in. I went through the town and poked my head into a coffee shop at the bottom of Castle Street and got a coffee to go at the door instead.
I walked out of the town and reached the crossroads where I was greeted by Jenn and the girls also with a coffee in hand for me. I hadn’t expected them to come out and cheer me on, it was a lovely surprise but I had a hard job not tearing up and being positive I felt so low and with so far to the next aid station to fix myself. I could see they were so excited but looked a bit deflated by me feeling emotional - Jenn Said how brilliantly I was doing and they were loving following we had a big hug and I put on a brave face and I marched on with my coffee.
I took a minor detour to the BP garage on the dual carriage way to use the facilities and then joined the queue to get a sausage roll from the bakery but it was about 5 people deep with a lady at the front doing what seemed like her weekly shop so I thought fuck waiting and left. I’d just finished a coffee anyway, hopefully that would perk me up enough.
Matt said he’d come to Puttenham to cheer me on too and I thought it wasn’t far. But now seventy something miles in every one of those miles takes a long time. I kept thinking if turn a corner and be there but wasn’t. I guess that’s a benefit to reece-ing the route, although this part of the NDW was local to me I didn’t know it. But still I was happy to be on the North Downs Way and out of the mud.
I reached Matt (and Louie). I’d lifted my spirits a fair bit. Matt said I was doing well and gave me praise and enthusiasm. I didn’t appreciate what a little support on route can do until experiencing it. I probably hadn’t appreciated how alone I’d been for hours also.
I continued on towards the aid station which I knew from the re-race webinar was about a mile past Puttenham at the cricket club. I’d been busy thinking how I could switch things up and trick my mind to perk up more. I decided I’d take some layers off - the sun out and warming the day up but I’d have been cold with less layers moving so slow. I’d take my trousers off back to the shorts underneath. I’d take anything out my pack that I could, besides the mandatory kit. So far I had carried more snacks and water than I’d used on each section so now I would lighten the load and go minimal. Maybe I’d even put my vest on? I’d put an upbeat album I really liked on.
I got to Puttenham aid station. No need to put the overshoes on here, they’d put matting down on the floor, plus it was less muddy now. The volunteers got me a bowl of pasta and a cup of coke along with refilling a single 500ml bottle for me. I’d just take 500ml of water and a bottle of lucozade for the next section. I ate my roll I’d made the day before. Emptied what I could from the pack. I took my shoes and socks off - at each previous station I swapped just my socks but now I decide to swap shoes too. The very used 500ish miles tread but very trusty la sportiva akasha’s I brought for UTS a couple of years ago. They got me through a lot of the 496 challenge in 2024 and up and down volcanoes in Lanzarote with no bother on sharp rocks.
I opened the last of the 3 cards the kids put in my drop bags. One card in each, collected at each aid station. They’d written one each with messages of encouragement. I’d messaged the kids as I collected them and it became a part of my challenge. I needed to collect all three cards, then I needed to get to the finish for the kids to collect me.
The volunteers were chatting with me and the other runners and at one point implied I should get going, only joking about I don’t think I’d been especially long but I said I’d decided I’d be gone at midday and it was about 11:52am. I brushed my teeth and ditched the toothpaste and brush that I’d also carried since the start in my drop bag. Stuck my headphones on and got going.
As soon as I stepped out of Puttenham aid station I felt like a new man. Layers were off, pack was lighter, I had food in me, the sun was out, my music was good, I felt excited. I walked. I cautiously tried to run. I COULD RUN AGAIN. There were 19 miles to the finish (which I was disappointed to discover at the aid station because in my mind it should have been 16) but I felt good. I didn’t expect to feel this good. I knew it wouldn’t last but I thought fuck it let’s go - I’ll run and smash some miles for as long as this feeling lasts.
I reached the lady who’d left the aid station ahead of me. When she left I wished her well and assured her she wouldn’t see me again. I told her I was surprised but I was going to enjoy it.
I was running through sandy tracks I knew - I was buzzing. I met Gemma who came out for a run to support along with Treacle. She said I was flying since Puttenham and seemed as excited about it as I was! I crossed the river Wey to the park and spotted Jamie Rutherford snapping photos - he was running to get in front of me and I was (almost) going too fast for him (he was also wearing wellies, a coat and carrying camera’s). I carried on past another runner that left Puttenham aid station and said hello. Across the road towards Chantries Wood I was loving it!
I came up the trail beside the woods and heard someone on a bike shouting behind me and it was my friend Dan! I paused. He said he couldn’t believe he’d caught me and had been tracking me, have I even slept?! How long have I been going now?! Since 2pm yesterday! I was so happy.
Over the road and up to St Martha’s I knew exactly where I was familiar trails, I was really enjoying myself. Matt had told me Gemma was going out to see me and that Paul was planning to ‘give me some abuse’ at St Martha’s. The route took me round the back of St Martha’s church and I thought maybe I’d missed him. I got across to the big off camber field near Newlands Corner and slowed it to a hike. I hate running that bit at the best of times, as I reached the end Paul appeared with his two kids. We had a quick chat and I offered them a sugary percy pig tail each.
Coming up towards Newlands corner car park Arlo phoned me asking where I was at the same time as Arlo on my headphones Centurion marshalls were asking me if I had a crew and I said no, but there here to support - and between the two talking to me at once I was very confused. She just needed to check me off as ‘ok’ and let me know the crew point was off route but I could head over if I wanted. Meanwhile I had no idea where Arlo was. I carried on for a moment, him still on my headphones and he came running towards me shouting excitedly a little further up Dad was there too shocked I’d picked up the pace so much. They were really excited to catch me and I was enjoying being cheered on.
I crossed the road for the long rail along the NDW ridge. There were 12 miles to go. I called Dad to make sure he did know I was going to be ages yet - like 3 or maybe 4 hours still I imagined them driving on to Juniper hall expecting me to keep the same pace. If I’d even been doing the 10min miles that it felt like in my head it wasn’t going to last much longer. It was fine, they knew, they were going home.
It didn’t last much longer (my pace). I get bored on this part of the NDW like I get bored on any long straight trail really, I was also tiring. I was still “hiking with purpose” and running a bit. I made some sort of grunty noise that must have been very loud because the runner ahead, a way ahead, stopped and shouted back to check if I was alright. I was fine.
We carried on, Petra a bit ahead of me and it was nice to have someone to follow, after a while we ended up closer and shared some miles together chatting which was nice. I remember mentioning I keep reminding myself to look up because it’s so easy just to stare at the mud in front of your feet. Now to our right the sun was getting lower and coming in through the trees. We could see Dorking in the distance.
Petra mentioned a crew point at Denbies and in my mind that meant we’d be going down beside the vineyards. I left her when she met her ‘supporters’ at the top of Ranmore Common. Now it was a long straight road, then following down the sometimes steep tarmac I’d not expected to be on. I followed it round where I thought I must be descending to Denbies and then my watch buzzed to tell me I was off route. I turned a corner I wasn’t supposed to and descended a few hundred meters of hill I didn’t need to and started climbing back up. Petra came running along the top, she was flying. I laughed and shouted “it’s not this way” and realised that it was her crew and the crew point at Ranmore, for some reason it was labeled as Denbies. Anyway I stopped assuming I knew where I was going and paid more attention to my watch.
For a while now I’d been wanting to speed up and run a bit, I was conscious of either Jenn or Dad and the kids would be waiting for me. The problem was my right calf had got really tight along the back and up behind my knee. I was worried if I pushed too much it might spasm or completely lock up and I’d grind to a halt and have to spend hours crawling the final miles. So I keep just plodding on in a march with my poles taking longer than I wanted.
I reached the dual carriage way where I knew we needed to follow up one side to an underpass and then back down the other side to get to Box Hills steps and up. The underpass crossing wasn’t visible on my watch, just two long lines making it seem far but I didn’t mind. There were two-point-something miles to go and I figured the longer this bit was the shorter the climb and descent were.
I was slow to climb Box Hill steps but they were fine, I used my poles. It wasn’t as difficult as I thought it might be at the end. Once at the viewpoint you cross some grass into the woods, I knew I’d come out by a tower and there would be a view of Juniper Hall at the bottom. The woods seemed to go on for longer than I imagined. It was now dark and had been since descending to the dual carriage way so I was in the dark woods following my watch by head torch. I was getting really confused. I didn’t get lost or go off route but I started thinking I was dreaming.
Eventually I reached the tower and the view to Juniper hall. The hill down was steep and slippy with mud and my legs did not appreciate it one bit. I took it easy. I reached the flat and got back to a run or probably more accurately a hobble and saw Jenn and the kids waiting aside the arch cheering me on! I gestured that I’ll just run through and back, it was only about 10 meters further than them but I didn’t know where the finish line was. I ran round and into their arms for a big hug.
The finish line itself was a bit of an anticlimax with the exception of seeing Jenn and the kids, it was very quiet but how can any finish line compete with all those miles you’ve just crossed.
I finished about 17:40pm Saturday. Plenty of time to get home, eat, have a bath, get to bed like a normal evening and wake up Sunday morning wondering what the hell just happened.