Make madness a way of life.

So the string of post-UTMB failure compensation races is done.
2 weeks post UTMB - MCN ultra round 3 - 38 miles
5 weeks post-UTMB - 3x3000 Skyrace ultra
7 weeks post-UTMB - Centurion A100.

Stick a fork in me, I'm done.


A100 blog
Edition A. For the chronically short of attention-span

Leg 1: this is too fast, I'm tired, I feel sick, I'm sweaty uuuurrrrghhhh
Leg 2: And we're off! Where the hell did this speed come from?! This may come back to bite me, but I feel great!
Leg 3: I'm still running...what's going on? why am I still feeling ok? Did I just overtake Ed Catmur?!
Leg 4: And...hit the wall. How is this leg so long? Come on Sarah, keep on plodding...and FINISH!


Edition B. Full version. Lengthy and rambling.

Kit used: Inov-8 race vest, Asics gel Fuji Trabuco shoes, 1000 mile compression socks, LED-Lenser and Petzl headtorches,
Sports nutrition used: High-5 electrolyte tablets, SIS gels, shotblocs, Lucozade dextrose tablets

Like my other recent races, entered the A100 after I'd come back from failing at the UTMB. I wasn't really sure what I was doing, feeling a bit directionless, but also really didn't want to have gone more than a year without doing a 100 mile race. Looking at the calendar, I had A100, Cotswold century or the White Rose 100 to choose from. But I also really wanted to do the 3x3000. A100 was only 2 weeks later, but I thought I'd give it a shot.

So, 2 weeks after the 3x3000, 7 weeks after dropping from UTMB, I was lining up at the start of the A100 for a second time. I had no idea what I would be able to do this year, having spent most of 2015 training on hills and racing in mountains, I didn't know what my legs would make of such a flat course. Add to that a week of night shifts leading up to the race, and a viral infection giving me a temperature of 38 degrees on the morning of the race, I was pretty convinced that I would fade hard after the first 50, and certain that I wouldn't be able to repeat my time from 2014. I had no real plan, just see what I could do.

 Junior doctors protest #notsafenotfair

The first leg was as I remember it from 2014. Hard and miserable. It's flat, relentless, and you know when you get back to Goring you've only done 1/4 of the race. Add to that the uncertainty of pacing...should I trust my instincts and go slow or should I chase the lead woman (Sally Ford, who set off into the distance looking so strong and confident)? The Centurion team had set up a bit of a 'battle' between us in the online banter before the race, and I was aware that on paper Sally was a much stronger runner than I am. She has sub-3hr marathon times and some amazing ultramarathon results, having crushed the female field (and most of the male field) in all the other Centurion 100 mile races in 2015. I remembered seeing her at the Whitchurch checkpoint on the TP100 when I was volunteering, and was struck then by how strong she looked 67 miles into the race. I had started with the intention of following my own pace. But I am easily lead and was uncomfortable with the idea of being left behind, so I nailed my colours to the mast, and I chased her initial pace.

I got back to Goring from leg one feeling pretty rubbish. I felt that I had pushed way too hard, and was cursing my stupidity. Nici, who was acting as an impromptu crew for me, got my kit, made sure I had enough orange juice on board, and then mentioned to me that I was sweating a lot more than usual. I knew I had a temp to start with, and I had been feeling a bit shivery before the race so had put on an extra T-shirt. I decided to get rid of the extra layers and just go with my vest. This was definitely a good decision. I've realised more and more this year the negative effect that heat has on my performance. With hyperhidrosis I struggle to keep up with my fluid losses on a cool day, and the heat makes it nearly impossible. I ran the rest of the race in a vest and shorts, and was much more comfortable.

Leg 2 starts with some more depressing flatness. The whining nagging demons that had started in my head along the first leg were getting louder now. Telling me that the UTMB was a lesson to me that I couldn't do this. That I simply wasn't built for running, that I was still the fat kid who was useless at everything. Rich Keefe (Mudcrew ultra team) who was running close at the time commented on how my running style had changed from the initial stages of leg one, and that my stride was now much shorter. That really made me think about how I was running this race. Sally was still up ahead of me, but I made the decision at that point to find my own pace. I chucked down a couple of cups of Coke at the next aid station, put my headphones in, blocked out the negative voices and started singing. Here it was, here was my sweet spot. I soon found my legs, my pace, my stride and was rolling along Grims ditch feeling much more positive, singing cheesy Russian pop songs as loud as I could. I hit the turn-around point feeling really good, I was finally enjoying myself. This continued all the way back to Goring (despite a detour of unidentified length...who says you can't get lost on an out-and-back course!), as I met other runners on their outward journey I got lots of lovely words of encouragement (and I hope gave some too, although all I seem to remember is yelling 'Crack on!' at everyone who went past me!!)


Back at Goring it suddenly dawned on me that I'd just run a 50 mile PB of 7 hours. I was still pretty worried about this pace, and at this point was also stuggling with nutrition and fluid. I knew I had been eating far less than I intended, and received a few stern words from Nici who sent me away from the checkpoint with my pockets full of goodies. There's a steady climb of around half a mile in the first section of leg 3, and I mentally set this distance aside to walk, eat and drink. I finished off a packet of marmite cashews and a couple of gels and around a mile later the effects really kicked in, I was literally up and running again! I happily plodded my way to the turnaround point and headed back to Goring. Just before the decent into Goring, I passed Ed Catmur, not something I ever thought I'd find myself doing! I was getting nervous now, knowing how much I had been dreading the final leg. So close, and yet so far. I was trying to work out how much time I could allow myself to still finish in a decent overall time, but I was starting to get ultra-brain and I could barely work out what time it was let alone calculate ahead.


Back in Goring again. I was feeling sick, and so so sleepy. I think the run of nightshifts had caught up with me at this point, and I just wanted to lie down and sleep. When I whinged about how sick I was feeling I remember Gary pointing out that I was sweating like a horse and hadn't been drinking enough, and did I maybe think that this may have something to do with my sickness?! I think I may have called him a sarcastic bugger at this point, but he was dead right! I realise I was procrastinating here to delay setting off on the final 25 and so did Nici. She had soon turfed me out of the checkpoint and sent me on my way with strict instructions to eat more.

Procrastinating 'Camera tart'

The final countdown!!
4 miles to Whitchurch. This was ok, a nice bit of path and a bit of uphill to break the monotony of the Thames path. 8 miles to Reading. Not so nice. Flat, and with those never-ending fields, a depressing up 'n' down through a housing estate and a run of never-ending tarmac until you reach the far checkpoint. At one point I was retching into a bush, when I head a little voice behind me saying 'are you ok mate?' I turned around to see a worried-looking teenager peering at me in concern. Sweet! I mumbled something about being in a race and it all being a bit intense, and staggered away in embarrassment.
The journey back from the far checkpoint did seem to go faster. I know I was struggling, but I was still running. There was one amazing point when David Barker came past me, looking like he had just started a marathon. He finished 15 minutes ahead of me, in sub-16 hours. That guy is an absolutely amazing lesson in pacing!!
At Whitchurch I stopped at the checkpoint for a few minutes and confessed to the crew there that I had just pee'd down my leg in the dark. At this point a girl came into the checkpoint on her outward journey, patted me on the shoulder and said 'well done!'. I'm still not sure if she was referring to my running or my ability to pee on myself. Still, thanks!!
The 4 miles back to Goring flew by. Soon I was at the finish in a total of 16 hours 13 minutes, being congratulated by James, who had himself just smashed up the course record in an amazing 14 hours 35 minutes! What a legend!! I hung around for a bit, enjoying the warmth and friendliness of the extended Centurion family.

Well-earned Nici hug!

What a day! Such a range of emotions and experiences. I love the Centurion crew! I think their awesomeness and the awesomeness of their events is reflected in the fact that all their 2016 races are sold out already!


But, with myself, I'm not satisfied. I'm always underwhelmed with my results, and always feel I should have done better. This result is no different. So I will try harder. And hopefully improve.