Why I Decided to Start Training for Ultra Marathons
If you've followed my journey for a while, you'll know I'm not really someone who keeps doing the same thing over and over. Once I've done something, hit a goal, and walked away feeling good about how I performed — I'm ready to move on. That's just how I operate.
In the previous two years I had done two Olympic Triathlons, two Ironman 70.3 and an Ironman. I had set myself impossible challenges, or so I thought at the time and then threw myself into a world of training for three disciplines, openwater swimming, cleats and new travel adventures.
Being hungry for another challenge is exactly how I ended up stepping away from triathlon and heading straight into the world of ultra marathons.
The Ironman Decision: Why I Didn't Go Back
After completing my Ironman, I was over the moon with how it went. Okay I forgot to eat, so bonked at around 35km of the marathon, but strange things happen when you’ve been on the go all day and evening! I had trained for 14 months and most importantly came away feeling incredibly proud.
And that, strangely enough, is exactly why I didn't sign up for another one.
When you finish something feeling satisfied — really satisfied — there's a part of you that asks: why go back? For me, there was nothing left to prove. I didn't feel like I'd left anything on the table. The Ironman had given me everything I'd wanted from it, and chasing another finish line for the sake of it just didn't appeal. I needed a new challenge, a new question to answer. So I started asking myself what's next?
Why Ultra Marathons? Why Not Stick with Triathlon?
I could have stayed in the triathlon world. There were plenty of races to explore, distances to tackle, times to chase. But if I'm honest, I'd fallen in love with running. Out of the swim, bike and run, it was the running that felt most mine. It was the discipline I enjoyed the most, the one that felt the most natural, and the one I wanted to explore further.
Ultra marathons ticked every box for what I was looking for:
Something new. I wanted to try a completely different kind of event. Ultra marathons are their own world — different community, different mindset, different demands on your body.
Trail running. I'd been running on roads for years. The idea of getting out into nature, running trails, covering real terrain — that genuinely excited me. It felt like a proper adventure rather than just clocking miles on tarmac.
To see what I was capable of. That's always been the driving force behind everything I do. Not to impress anyone else, but to find out what I can do when I really push myself.
Gearing Up: What I Had to Invest In
Switching from road running to trail running isn't just a mindset shift — it comes with some kit requirements. I had to invest in a decent pair of trail running shoes (non-negotiable on uneven terrain) and a running vest to carry water, nutrition and all the essentials you need when you're out on the trails for any serious length of time.
It's a different kind of preparation, and honestly, I enjoyed that side of it too. Working out the kit, understanding what you need, getting ready for a new challenge — it's all part of the process.
My First Trail Running Event: 13km in Henley with My Daughter
After the Ironman, I gave myself pretty much a full month off to recover. No guilt about it — my body needed it. Then I slowly started running again, short distances, easy effort, nothing serious. Just rebuilding.
My first trail event was a 13km run in Henley, set in the grounds of Stonor Park — and it was a tough introduction to the sport.
The morning of the race, my daughter and I sat in the car as torrential rain hammered down around us. We looked at each other and said, "Why are we doing this?" It was one of those moments where you genuinely question all of your life choices. Thankfully the rain stopped before the start, but it had done its damage — the course was an absolute mud fest.
Now, here's where it got interesting. My daughter was wearing road shoes. No grip whatsoever. Every downhill section turned into an involuntary slip-and-slide, and I found myself grabbing her arm to stop her going down completely. It looked genuinely a bit scary at times — she was sliding all over the place. Lesson learned - trail shoes are not optional. It reminded me of cross crountry running as a small child - I had loved it!
There were queues at the stiles too, which I'd later come to learn is just a completely normal part of trail running life. Everyone patiently waiting their turn to clamber over a fence in muddy fields. You just embrace it.
Why Trail Running Immediately Felt Different
What struck me most was the whole atmosphere of the event. It was nothing like road racing. Nobody was obsessing over pace or chasing a PB. Everyone walked the uphills — without any shame — to conserve energy for what was ahead. People were chatting, laughing, taking in the surroundings. We were running through genuinely stunning Oxfordshire countryside, proper hills, real terrain. It felt less like a race and more like an adventure.
The finish time? Slower than I'd ever run 13km on a road, by quite some margin. But honestly? It was one of the most satisfying things I'd done. There were people running with their dogs, which was something to look forward to with Lola, our border collie puppy. We crossed the finish line, stood in the drizzle, and I looked down at my beautiful new purple trail shoes — you couldn't tell what colour they were. Completely caked in mud, head to toe brown. My lovely purple shoes, gone.
We waited around feeling damp but happy chatting to other runners, queued up for wood-fired pizza (which tasted absolutely incredible, as food always does after a race), then walked back to the car, got into some warm dry clothes, and devoured it. Absolute bliss.
The Moment I Thought: I Can Do This
Standing there, muddy, tired, warm pizza in hand, I remember thinking: yes. I think I can do this. And then the next thought came, almost immediately. Could I enter an ultra marathon? Probably. Why not?
That's how it started. Not a grand plan, not a long deliberation. Just a muddy 13km in Henley with my daughter, a wood-fired pizza, and a feeling that I'd found something I really, genuinely loved.