Ultra-running is so PC these days. Apparently, you are supposed to warn someone if you are about to fart in their face on a hill.

I seem to have forgotten everything. I made the mistake of lubing before surrendering my lube to the bag drop and then going for a crap and wiping it all off. I had a Kathmandu running pack with Salomon soft flasks, I know they design those things to crumble if you use them in a the wrong pack. I could not for the life of me remember how to do the #OBLIGATORY #FATLAY

I assume you are meant to be naked when you take these. This is the one out of 5 attempts that Instagram allowed for some reason.

Running has been a bit shit the last few years. It is hard to pinpoint exactly why; life has got in the way, I have been more ill than usual, some personal circumstances have changed and, of course, the usual chaos of having children—oh, and old age.

But I could have fit it in just as before. I have plenty of time. Something that's been nagging me is the doubt of whether I even want to do running anymore.

I head out for a 5-mile run, and after 2 miles, I'm counting down the minutes until I can be done. The mental effort to get up to double figures nowadays seems mind-boggling. I used to do that in the mornings before waking up properly. Five miles used to be a navigation error that we'd laugh about in races. A 50-mile week now involves such effort that it rarely happens. Fifty miles used to be something I did on a Saturday.

Now I'm about to sound like one of those fucking intolerable fucking dicks who go on and on about the NO TRAINING they did before the event. I was definitely undertrained. But I didn't doubt my legs could take me over a 50-mile jaunt. I was sure my head would tell me to stop because it was hard or I would be better off tomorrow if I quit now.

I used to be good at this, but not the running part so much; I was never winning things. But I could stay in the game well enough to get stuff finished and enjoy that lovely glow of completion.

I started a 50k race earlier this year but dropped halfway as I was coughing a bit. File this under ABSOLUTELY THE RIGHT DECISION. Or chickening out. I was supposed to do the SDW50, but my Mum got ill beforehand. Now, that was the right call; I didn't want to be out running if something terrible happened. But part of me felt relieved, thankful for the opportunity to quit that sensibly.

And here we are, May 18th 2024, about 18 years after I first ran this kind of distance with no fear at all, a bit worried that fifty miles was a long way and it would take ages.

OK, enough of the guff for now. Onto the race

It started well. I entered with my friend James and had no idea there were two starting waves, and we were put in different ones. I put down a slower time, so I started after him.

It was nice to be back in a room full of well-lubricated strangers. I love the warm toilet seats and getting judgemental about people who spend more than 60 seconds on a shit.

The start was very pedestrian. We were wave 2, which meant we could not win. That may be why the people at the start looked a little rounder than the usual race start line.

We set off at 7.45. I need to be finished by 8.45 in the evening to avoid a DQ for being slow. Wave 2 felt like ultras of old, where everyone was just out for a hike. There were no race previews about people who would spend most of the time with both feet off the ground. Perhaps James Elson can rebrand the two waves as "race" and "retro."

It was nice to see Alex from the olden days when we used to run on these trails and young, free single people. I've been on the North Downs quite a bit, The Pilgrims Challenge, The Tanners, and I did the first 60 of the North Downs Way 100, so I've run all these hills before. I just don't remember what order they all come in.

I was happy to chug along by myself. I was at the front of the wave (winning, in fact), but as the minutes passed, plenty of people overtook me.

I started to ache a bit from fairly early on, within the first 10 miles. 10miles is about all I would do in one go these days, and it's when the demons of projection take over. If you are feeling crap after just this much, then you are certainly going to die in a few hours.

I used to be really good at dealing with this, but now I suck. Getting to double figures takes so much mental resolve these days that it exhausts me.

But I had a revelation early on. This could be the great unlocking for me. If I could just "DO" something like this and get something finished, that might spur me on to get back into this with the confidence that I can.

It's like when I lose 6 in a row at chess, I am terrible at chess (I'm not that good, tbh). Sometimes, it's because I play better players; sometimes, blunders lead to more blunders. But then, you play someone who blunders a Queen, spends ages and times out, or even gets disconnected. You don't care, a win is a win, and for a bit, you can feel not shit at chess again.

With all the false starts, bail outs, shortened runs and other excuses of the last few years, all I needed to do was to gut something out.

From then on, genuinely, for the whole race, there was never a point where I was debating whether to drop out.

For the first three checkpoints, up to Box Hill, I checked in with James Y, who always seemed to be 45 minutes ahead of me, so we could have run together. Halfway, my Salomon water flask went full Bonnetti and exploded. It was a bit annoying, as only carrying 500ml of water was probably not enough today, But I bravely soldiered on.

I have missed the little checkpoint ritual. Like completing a level, you can chug a few cups of coke, eat some cookies and sandwiches and head on to the next bit. Just 7x7 mile picnic walks to see the day out.

During the next section, I overtook way more times than I was overtaken. I was overtaken by about 20 runners while I overtook about 25 Girl Scouts. It all counts, probably.

I did slow down a lot after this, but I became at ease with just finishing within the cut-off. People passed, and I didn't really worry; I was just enjoying this prolonged state of not feeling like giving up on anything.

The North Downs is really impressive, and it is perfect for this kind of racing. Though of the 100+ dogs I must have seen, there was not a single Collie, which was rubbish. My check-ins with James showed he was getting further ahead,

I had so many flashbacks of little bits of the trail, little gullies that were rivers when I last ran them, and the sides of hills that became sledging slopes once when it snowed here. It took me back to when this kind of stuff was normal. I still have some way to go until this is normal again, but I knew as soon as I finished this I was one big step on the way to getting back there where I want to be.

I had in my head that this was exactly 50 miles long. I know, I know, the artistic license of a trail run organiser; I don't want to sound like this dick. Still, I was a little bit peeved to get to the top of some bastard hill with 43.3 on my Garmin to hear that it was "8 miles" to the end. Now, 1.5 miles is no big thing, but that 20-30 minutes extra could be the difference in me making it back to the Wetherspoons by our hotel before they stop serving food.

But honestly, I didn't care that much. I was mainly walking now. I felt knackered and had blisters, but I was thrilled to complete an ULTRAMARATHON and have something to blog about.

Just as the race felt slow and clunky, so did writing this! I used to just sit on the PC some time afterwards and quickly whack one out. This took ages. I'm not even sure people read words on the internet anymore; I should be videoing myself doing some gymnastics to a Taylor Swift song while some fat garbage letters of Comic Sans spew all over the screen.

Maybe next time.

I sure have missed blogging, though. Or Creating Content, whatever it's called nowadays.

Here is the picture of me finishing, with that same excited, pregnant look as when I started.

All in all a good day out (Do people still say “Good day at the office”? Am guessing not with home-working these days). A good day sat in the dining room in my pants answering Teams chats, lets say.

Thank you to all involved! James E and team, these are really really good events. Thanks to James Y too for badgering me back into this (and all the driving!). Also thank-you (You’ll know who you are) to those who I’ve been unloading my mid-life crisis stuff on recently. That has really helped and this has really helped.

RunningandStuff