My First Ultramarathon - Here's What I Learnt About Mind, Body And The Technical Bits

On Saturday 2nd February 2019 I completed my first ultramarathon. It was a bit of a baby as far as ultramarathons go. It was 33 miles. An ultra is classed as anything over a marathon distance but this was closer to marathon than most ultra’s out there. Still, i’m proud of the achievement and I certainly learnt a lot both in training and the race. Mainly how to hold on to your soul as it tries to exit your body and enter the spirit realm where there is no pain….

Anyway, the months leading up to the race had been relatively trouble free. From October onwards I had started cranking up the mileage gradually, factoring in a trail marathon on New Years Eve and a number of 3 hour plus runs in the latter stages of training.

I had time to play around with nutrition and hydration but, to be honest, I was pretty comfortable with what my body needed for the 4:30-5ish hours because that’s around the time it takes for me to complete a middle distance triathlon. I just wasn’t sure what would actually happen to me during a running race of that duration.

On the day we arrived with only about 20 minutes to spare. The combination of roadworks and heavy snowfall in Surrey had slowed us significantly. Luckily I was with John, who is calm and composed, and Mary who is always awesome at reading the situation and trying to take the pressure off.

So when the race started we were good to go, ready, and fully kitted up.

It was about 1 degree when we started the race and I was adamant I didn’t want to start cold. So I wore a base layer, breathable running top and windproof jacket. That was my first error. I almost immediately warmed up and felt myself sweating. Losing valuable fluid. John had told me that when you run an ultra or a marathon to dress for 15 degrees warmer than it is. That’s a good rule of thumb that will keep you both warm enough but prevent you from overheating.

By the first aid station 14km in, I ditched the jacket and stayed with just 2 tops for the rest of the race. Lesson learnt.

The first 30km passed by without much incident. Sadly I lost John as he had to retire from the race. He had been fighting a virus and we both agreed that he may be damaging himself further if he kept running. He had nothing in the tank and I didn’t want him to blow his season out on my account. So at 31km I was on my own… and the real mind games began.

To that point I had been taking on a gel every 30 or so minutes and drinks every 10 minutes. Trying to get though both of my water bottles by the next aid station.

I felt pretty good and there were no blister issues that had plagued my training. I changed to better socks in the lead up and I think this was the difference. Invest in some quality running socks for sure!

But as I approached Box Hill (a monumental b*tch of a climb) the legs were starting to feel it and my mind was struggling to stay in the present. I kept thinking ahead. Thoughts like “Box Hill is going to hurt but I still have Colley Hill after that AND 20 more km’s”

I kept trying to remember what Rob Griffiths (the lead tutor on my triathlon coaching course) had told me. Treat any negative thoughts like cars passing you by. You see them, acknowledge them and then they’re gone. Don’t keep thinking about them. Be in the now. So that’s what I tried! Every time I started to think about the pain and what was to come, i’d lift my head up and look around. It was my little habit that snapped me back in to the now.

After 40km the pain was how I would imagine it to feel if I let Mary pluck my nose hairs slowly whilst punching me in the crotch. So between wanting to just lie down and sob and mustering the power to run some more, I made some interesting observations about my predicament. The first was that suddenly it was the downhill that hurt the body and the uphill was sweet release. What an odd feeling. The breaking forces of running down a hill was causing the issues.

The other lesson was that I was in no shape to make a single decision at any check point. In a strange way I was very lucky John had pulled out of the race and was now helping Mary sort me out. It’s not that Mary didn’t know what to do. In fact she did an excellent job. But John just took over and literally would have changed my nappy if i’d have needed. I wasn’t wearing a nappy obviously.

In the last 2 check points I simply stood there and did what I was told. I was in bits. One was at 45km and one at 50km. So if you’re planning on an ultra with crew, make sure they know exactly what they’re doing. Take the pressure off of you. I stood there whilst John fed me drink like I was a hamster in a cage, Mary was ferreting in the rucksack for replacement gels whilst John sorted me out with painkillers and replaced my drinks. It was so welcome and, at that stage, salient thought had all but left me anyway.

After the race I heard that 2 of the runners who went ahead had blown up. They'd clearly got their pacing wrong. They did go off like a shot and bear in mind, i’m not a slow runner. But I kept to my own pacing strategy of running based on RPE (rating of perceived exertion) out of 10. I wanted to keep it solid yet unspectacular. Always keeping the heart rate even and the breathing easy.

At the last check point I was in a real mental battle with myself. I knew it was so near and yet the pain was making me just wish it was all over. That I could stop there and eat a burger and drink a sweet coffee. But I know it wasn’t an option. John gave me 2 paracetamol and a slug of drink (is that a phrase?!) and sent me on my way by dropping the C bomb. Lovely stuff.

So here was the strangest thing, after 50km and just as the runner behind me was gaining, the pain evaporated. In to thing air. And suddenly I was running sub 4 min km’s and was feeling absolutely fine. Was it end of race euphoria? or the moments before death? Had I hit a flow state?

I pulled away from the closing runner and sped to the finish line almost laughing about how easy it now felt. Granted, it was on flat and road but still, a little baffled.

And so I crossed the line. After 4:40 of running and 53km covered. Surprisingly i’d finished in 3rd place and also won my age group! Granted there were no really top runners like a “John” on the course but you have to race who is there on the day and there were still some excellent athletes out there.

So essentially i’m very proud of myself. A little broken and have learnt a lot. Oh, and it turned out that the paracetamol had caffeine in it!! Good to know. Maybe if i’d have known John had given me caffeine I would have responded differently but it’s great to know how my body responds to such a potent (and legal I must stress!) performance aid.

So on I march to the London Marathon. Aiming for sub 3 hours and I need to get some serious “running at pace” mileage in. I’m excited and a little bit scared. But if it doesn’t scare you, it’s not worth it, right?