South West Coast 50K Ultra

Hills, Proper Food and Another Lesson in Ultra Running

You would think that after the Jurassic Coast 100km, I might have decided to take things a little easier. Apparently not.

The week after the Jurassic Coast Ultra, I decided that I couldn’t live with the DNF. So I signed up for a 50k and another 100k which left me two months until the South West Ultra Challenge 50km, followed just six weeks later by the South Coast Ultra Challenge 100km. I was on a mission.

I knew I needed to be stronger this time. The hills and descents on the Jurassic Coast had taught me exactly where my weaknesses were, so I threw myself into physio and strength exercises three times a week, alongside swimming, the gym and, of course running.

There was also another rather important part of my training. I needed to practise eating.

Yes, I realise how ridiculous that sounds, particularly for someone who grazes like a horse in everyday life. But when I run for hours, my appetite seems to disappear completely. After what happened on the Jurassic Coast when my Garmin died, my eating reminders disappeared with it and I eventually crashed at 82km, I wasn’t making that mistake again.

This time, I wanted to train my stomach as well as my legs. So, my priorities changed to eating, strength and running.

Heading to the South West Coast Path

The night before the race, I drove down and stayed in an Airbnb with my two eldest children. I was really looking forward to this one. The route would take me along the beginning of the South West Coast Path and, being suitably hilly, it would also be excellent preparation for the 100km ultra I had coming up in six weeks.

Because apparently I now deliberately seek out hills. I’m not entirely sure who I’ve become.

It was another early start, this time in the grounds of the beautiful Dunster Castle. Ultra organisers really do pick some incredible places to start races. There was that familiar early morning atmosphere of runners getting ready, sorting bags, checking kit and preparing to spend a frankly unreasonable number of hours on their feet.

And then, about ten minutes before the start, I got a lovely surprise. I’d had an inkling it might happen, but suddenly my youngest appeared, like a vision, ten minutes before the race started.

All three of my children were there. Amazing. Hugs all around and a magical photo of the four of us. Happy days. It felt incredible. Having them all there to see me off meant far more than they probably realised.

The South West Ultra Challenge 50K Begins

I felt good as we set off. The weather was beautiful — sunny but not particularly hot, although it was humid, which I’m not entirely sure was any better.

The route took us along the beach and past Butlin’s, where people were sitting outside, presumably having a considerably more relaxing morning than I was. This is where I first saw my support crew sitting on the wall eating breakfast.

Then came the first hill. And it went on. And on. And on. Luckily, there was a rather magnificent reward waiting at the top in the form of the first rest stop. The bakery. Now this was an ultra marathon aid station I could get behind.

I’d actually been about to reach into my bag for one of my spare bottles when I spotted it in the distance. Suddenly hydration could wait for a moment because there was a pain au chocolat with my name on it.

Pain au chocolat, strawberry yoghurt and a banana. Ultra running really does have its advantages.

The Best Support Crew

Not long afterwards, I spotted my children again with Lola. The boys sitting on a gate, and my daughter and Lola sprawled out on a picnic rug, enjoying the glorious countryside.

Big hugs and then off I went again. They appeared again about 5km further down the road, before the halfway point. Those little moments meant so much. You can spend a long time alone with your own thoughts during an ultra, so suddenly seeing the people you love waiting for you gives you an enormous lift.

And so far, everything was going well. I was eating. I had my new Garmin watch on with a much longer battery life and my old one for back up. I was prepared this time.

My timer was working. And, most importantly, I was actually listening to it.

Training My Stomach for an Ultra Marathon

Every time my 20 minute alarm went off, I ate something. I wasn’t waiting until I felt hungry because I’d finally learned that, for me, hunger isn’t a particularly reliable indicator when I’m running.

I’d also made another important change after experimenting with nutrition over my previous ultras. I wanted to rely on proper food rather than on sweet gels and energy drinks.

My goal for this race wasn’t simply to complete 50km. I wanted to reach the finish without feeling nauseous.

So eating had genuinely become part of my training over the previous few months. I’d been practising on long runs, gradually teaching my stomach that yes, we really were going to eat while simultaneously running for hours.

Ultra running. Where eating becomes something you actually have to train for.

Reaching the Halfway Point at 25K

The route continued through the woods and the hills just seemed to go on and on. They felt relentless at times, but I was coping with them and still feeling good.

At the 25km aid station, it was time for some proper food.

I had a chicken sandwich and took some crisps and a flapjack for later. I also changed my socks — another lesson learned from previous ultras — sorted myself out and got ready to head back onto the course.

Halfway. My legs were holding up. My stomach was behaving itself. I was eating every 20 minutes. And, so far at least, the plan was working.

Running High Above the South West Coast

At some point the route brought us high above the coastline and the views were incredible. This was exactly why I’d wanted to do this event. We were at quite an elevation, looking out across the coast, and for a while I could almost forget how far I still had to go.

What goes up, of course, has to come down, and the beautiful views were followed by a very steep descent covered in loose stones and rubble. It was technical, slippery and I really didn’t like it.

Put me on a snowboard and I’d have loved it. Apparently hurtling down a mountain strapped to a plank feels perfectly reasonable, but trying to run down loose rocks in trainers does not.

I was very aware that one badly placed foot could end the day rather abruptly, so I took my time and concentrated on staying upright.

The People You Meet While Ultra Running

One of the things I love about ultra running is the people you meet along the way. I chatted to a few women who were also running solo and we seemed to spend much of the day overtaking one another, then being overtaken again, offering little words of encouragement each time we met.

I also chatted to a guy from Australia. You don’t necessarily run together for long or even find out much about one another, but exchanging a few words passes the time and gives you a little lift.

Everyone is having their own race, but for a few minutes your paths cross. Then one of you speeds up, slows down or stops at an aid station and you’re off on your own again.

I really like those little snippets of conversation. They’re part of what makes these events feel so friendly.

The Toughest Climb: Heading Up to Exmoor

The hardest ascent of the day was the climb up towards Exmoor and the beacon at the top.

It was a long climb, but as I got closer something happened. I got a second wind. There were people ahead still walking, but I started running again and passed a few of them. The higher I climbed, the better the views became, and suddenly I felt completely inspired by where I was.

When I reached the massive stone pyramid shaped mound of Dunkey Beacon, I asked the marshal if I could climb up. I was told I could — apparently one person had already done it that day — but to be careful because it was windy.

Well, I’d come all this way. I wasn’t going to let it pass me by. So up I went. I stood there for a moment and just soaked everything in. The coastline, the countryside, the height, the wind and the sheer scale of the view.

This is why I trail run. Yes, I was training for another 100km. Yes, there was a finish line somewhere in the distance. But I hadn’t travelled all this way and climbed all those hills just to stare at my feet and rush past everything.

Sometimes you have to stop and look around.

A Very Welcome Surprise on the Way Down

As I started running down the hill, I suddenly spotted Lola and my daughter running up towards me.

Yay! Lola was so pleased to see me she nearly knocked me over, which probably wasn’t ideal after everything I’d just done to remain upright, but I forgave her.

I walked back down with them for a little while, enjoying their company, before saying goodbye and running off again.

Before the rest stop I passed the two boys kicking a football around, and then came another highlight of the day.

The pick ’n’ mix and popcorn aid station. There are sentences I never imagined I’d write when I first started endurance sport.

Ultra running - Where pick ’n’ mix is a legitimate fuelling strategy.

I had more big hugs and encouragement from everyone before they all zoomed past me in the car to get to the finish ahead of me. That was the final aid station.

Now I just had to get myself there.

When Tired Legs Meet Technical Trails

Strangely, I got another second wind. I kept moving, passed two guys and ran with them for a while. I knew the course had taken me longer than I might have expected, but the terrain underfoot had been much more technical than your average run.

I’d fallen over twice, both times tripping forwards and landing smack on my hands, and on the second fall I twinged my ankle. It’s probably the one thing I don’t like about trail running. With road running, you can switch off a little and just keep putting one foot in front of the other. Trail running is different — especially when you’re exhausted. You have to keep lifting your feet high enough to clear tree roots, rocks and uneven ground, and when your legs are tired, that becomes surprisingly hard.

Take your eyes off the ground and you’re suddenly on your hands and knees. And technical trails become even more interesting when your legs have already covered more than 40km.

The Final Kilometres and the Finish Line

By now I was definitely ready to see the finish line. The problem with finish lines is that they are never quite where you want them to be. You think you’re nearly there, only to discover another field. Then another one. And quite possibly another one after that.

Eventually, though, there it was. My phone was ringing which was completely bizarre, I was clearly busy so I didn’t answer it. Crossing the finish line felt wonderful. I got my medal and T-shirt and, of course, had the obligatory finish line photo holding up the 50K sign. Another ultra done.

One of my three children was there waiting for me, so having heard my phone ringing I was worried that there was something wrong. But no, the other two, along with Lola, had fallen asleep in the car. He had tried to wake them by calling the group chat, but they hadn’t heard it. To be fair, my youngest had got up at 4am to surprise me at the start, so I couldn’t exactly blame them. I knew how exhausted they must have felt.

It was particularly special to have my middle one there at the finish. He’d been overseas for such a long time, so having him his happy face waiting for me at the finish line meant the world. They all then appeared. Lola said she had tried to wake them but their 5 minute nap had gone on longer than planned! We were all together again, so that is all that mattered.

The Fuelling Experiment Had Worked

But the biggest success of the day wasn’t actually crossing the finish line.

I’d gone into this 50km with one very specific aim. Finish without feeling nauseous.

After the nausea I’d experienced in my previous ultras, I’d spent the last few months rather comically practising eating while running. My alarm went off every 20 minutes and, every time it did, I ate something.

No waiting until I felt hungry, because apparently I can graze continuously when sitting at home but run for hours without remembering food exists.

This time I had no gels, no energy chews and no sugary energy drinks. I had electrolytes in one bottle, plain water in the other and proper food throughout the day — pain au chocolat, yoghurt, banana, chicken sandwich, crisps, flapjack, pick ’n’ mix and popcorn.

And it worked. No nausea. Mission accomplished. KEEP EATING! was apparently the answer.

The Slightly Less Glamorous Side of Ultra Running

After the finish line celebrations, it was back for a bath, dry clothes and then out for a good hearty meal. That was when I discovered another little souvenir from my 50km adventure. I’d chafed. Badly.

The skin along my waistline was completely raw, something I’d never experienced before. I think carrying the two spare drink bottles had pushed down on my waistband and, combined with the humidity, sweat and wet clothes rubbing against my skin for hours, it had created the perfect storm.

God, it was sore. And getting into a hot bath afterwards? Ouch.

There’s nothing quite like completing 50km of hills, technical trails and two falls, only to discover that the thing that hurts most afterwards is your waist.

Note to self. Buy some anti-chafing balm before the 100km.

Five Days of Very Sore Quads

The chafing, however, wasn’t the only souvenir I brought home.

The following morning my quads decided to make their feelings about all those hills and steep descents very clear. For the next five days, walking downstairs was an ordeal.

I couldn’t walk down the stairs or sit on the toilet without being in pain. Sitting down required careful planning, something sturdy to hold onto and a controlled descent accompanied by various noises I didn’t know I could make.

Going upstairs? Fine. Going downstairs? Absolutely not. Sitting down? Also problematic.

It’s amazing that you can run 50km across hills, rocks and trails, fall over twice, get back up and carry on, yet the following day lowering yourself onto the toilet becomes an endurance event in its own right.

It took about five days before my quads finally forgave me. Another useful lesson before the 100km: more strength work, particularly for those descents.

Next Stop: Another 100K Ultra Marathon

Now there was one rather large elephant waiting in the room. Another 100km ultra.

This time I wanted to arrive at the start line properly prepared. Before the Jurassic Coast, my knee injury after the South Downs 50km had meant I’d missed the long runs I really needed.

Now my knee was stronger. I’d thrown myself into physio and strength work three times a week, alongside swimming, the gym and my running. Most importantly, I finally had the opportunity to get some proper long runs into my legs.

And I’d worked out something else that could make an enormous difference. How to eat. The 20 minute alarm worked. Proper food worked. Electrolytes and water worked.

So the plan for the next six weeks was fairly straightforward. Get stronger. Get the long runs done. Look after my knee. Buy something for the chafing. And whatever happens...

KEEP EATING!

Six weeks until the 100km. What could possibly go wrong?