Stories, Articles and Race Reports
Centurion 100 Miler – Saturday 13th August - Dave Ross
I was as nervous as a Rattlesnake at the start of this race which was to become an epic journey and voyage of discovery for me. Little did I realise just how deep I would have to dig physically and psychologically, as the saying goes with 100 mile races, you run with your body for the first 50 miles and only then does the real race begin, when you have to run with your mind!
The journey to the start line had already involved running on two continents, the USA where I thought that I could conquer the Western States 100 miler on 23rd June but was forced to DNF due to getting symptoms of sharp chest pains and feeling completely spaced out and dizzy at the Greengate checkpoint (after the famous Rucky Chucky – river crossing) at 80 miles! Demons had haunted me ever since and I needed desperately to prove to myself that I could rise up like a Phoenix out of the Ashes and slay my mental Dragon, thus on my return to the UK I determined I would do just this, and found the Centurion 100 miler, on my doorstep which I had hoped would unlock the shackles that trapped me.
Standing at the start line on Saturday at 6am I felt confident that I would achieve my objective, albeit that I probably had only had about two hours sleep that Friday night due to the dreaded adrenaline rush having won the battle – the counting sheep one!
At precisely 6am the Claxton sounded and we were off, not fast though as the pack was tightly bunched, and shuffling off we finally picked up the pace and started running though the gorgeous Farnham countryside and on towards Puttenham where the 1st Aid station was. Somehow after about a 1 ½ miles the lead guy in our group followed an incorrect way marker and we all followed like sheep, realising we'd gone wrong after about 500 yards as there had been red and white tape tied to the trees and branches every 500 or so yards, so no excuses there ! Once back on the course we made good time to the Aid station for re-fuelling. All the Aid Stations of which there were 12 in total were well stocked with goodies like jelly babies, crisps, bananas, turkey & cheese pita wraps, Mars bars, GU gels, energy drinks, water or Coke and the ones on the night sections even had hot soup (chicken / tomato) or hot drinks like coffee/ tea! I was feeling great but just easing into the run whilst talking to Alan Rumbles. I maintained about a 9.05min pace to the 2nd aid station which was at Guildford / St.Martha's (13.1miles) and the scenery had been stunning, i.e. running though forested areas, across fields and meadows, past the Golf Club and onwards towards the iconic bastion of St Martha's Church all the way along the North Downs Way (NDW) the route demarcated with the white acorns. I had a good feed at St Martha's checkpoint, checked my watch which read 1hr 59 mins, popped another Salt (Electrolyte) tablet i.e. S-Capsules that I'd been trying to take every hour to maintain the correct electrolyte balance when used in conjunction with the Zero Active (High 5) sports drink that I had in my Hydro-pack. I realised how important it would be to maintain regular drinking / taking salt pills and eating regularly along the route to ensure energy levels were maintained, needless to say this meant literally forcing the food down later on in the event.
Running on towards Denbies Wine Estate (the largest privately owned Estate in the UK) was lovely as the sun was starting to appear from behind grey clouds and the vineyards painted a great backdrop to the dramatic chalky cliffs that surrounded them, as the Surrey countryside was coming alive with the dawning of a new day. Memories of good wine-tasting sessions enjoyed with gusto came flooding back as I recalled occasions that I'd drunk the lovely “Surrey Gold” wines that had helped established Denbies reputation.
The first major drop bag (Aid station) was at Box Hill, just before the climb that would later follow. This came at 23.9 miles, I was running a bit slower at this point, I'd dropped to about 9.52mins per mile, and though I felt great and knew that there would be some steep climbs to come, on the steepest part of the course undoubtedly. I filled my Hydro pack at Boxhill took another S- Cap, had some food and picked up the contents from my drop bag then ran on, the energy pulsating through me and the freedom of the trail ahead. I had bought a chocolate “For Goodness Shakes” containing a 3-1 Carbohydrate mix, some dates, 9 bars (pumpkin seed energy bars) containing iron, protein etc, pork scratchings (full of fat/protein and salt) energy bars/ fruit jellies etc ! So I was determined to eat this time, which is so important on 100 mile runs, or so I'd found out the hard way, just by not finishing Western States.
The stepping stone steps were great as the camera- man was positioned on the other side of the bank and he snapped away as I tried to ensure that I hopped carefully across the steps and not into the river! Then the climb began – steps more steps, on and on the - “stairway to heaven “ seemed never ending as I trudged upwards towards the Beacon at the top of Box Hill then turned around and took a moment to savour the stunning, picturesque backdrop of the Surrey hills and Denbies in the distance.
Boxhill's pathways ran besides numerous Yew trees that looked like old man's fingers, gnarled and ready to grab you if you ran too close, needless to say I nearly tripped on the radiating roots that were everywhere. There were barricades further on where the cyclists were trialling the route in preparation for the 2012 Olympics, this was an interesting spectacle as I thought what I'm doing is probably x10 harder than what you're doing on your bikes up and down Zig Zag hill, and surrounds.
The trail was very undulating all the way to Reigate Hill where the next checkpoint was , though I knew it well and it was in familiar territory, as I train all along the route (after work) and knew these paths like the back of my hand. Reigate checkpoint (31.8miles) was well manned and Claire Shelly (a friend) was there and helped me re-fuel my pack giving me hand outs of wraps and food which was a welcome respite. On I went past the Reigate Golf Club where golfers were playing leisurely rounds of golf completely unaware of the fact that we'd run over 33 miles already on our epic quest. The hills and fields were numerous but I just carried on and on and on and I ran solidly hardly stopping at all except on the odd steep hill for the next 3 ½ hours to reach the Knockholt Pound checkpoint at 50.3miles. On arrival there I was met with rapturous applause by the crowd, there were runners that had also finished the 50 miler lying about next to the FINISHER sign and I thought you're lucky mate I still have to run back. I got my drop bag , stashed all my available pockets on the Hydro Pack with goodies grabbed a “For Goodness Shakes” bottle, ate some food or tried too, whilst someone topped off my bladder in the pack ,I added yet more electrolyte tabs and took another S-Cap (No 12 or so my now) ! There were some friends that I recognised and we chatted excitedly for about 5 mins after which I said “guys I'm outta here I've got some serious running to do” and off I went.
It was good to see familiar faces on the way back and high five some people, whilst encouraging them on with “keep going” and “not far to go to halfway” – you could see that it lifted their spirits.
I was going well when I felt the familiar call of nature so I tried to find as inconspicuous a place to do what a mans gotta do and nearly ended up with my bum in a nettle patch. Nothing worse than getting spied in that position by a fellow runner, but then again at that stage you can't care less.
Off I went again, watching a line of runners ascend a long hill whilst I was heading down it gave me the utmost respect for what the human body seems capable of and I silently prayed as I had done on numerous occasions that God would give me the courage, the fortitude and the mental / spiritual strength to overcome the adversity that lay ahead.
The running became very psychological at this stage I would say at about 60 miles my whole approach changed to one of “running with the mind” I felt drawn to the constant motion and determination to put one foot in front of another and to “KEEP IT GOING”. Having crossed a small bridge I met the guys who were seconding for Robbie Britton the guy who was behind me in 4th place at the time, but who was to finally win the battle of this Epic journey. Mr Britton (Rob's dad) and his friend said you're doing really well and this really gave me a massive lift. They topped off my water bottles, I had a sausage roll and banana and thanked them profusely and on and on I went.
Finally I came to the checkpoint at Reigate Hill , which was a welcome relief as Mel (my wife) was standing there waiting for me - “hallelujah” I thought as I ran towards her and gave her a big hug and kiss. I'd just phoned her on my mobile from about 2 miles away when she'd been speeding up the A217 from our home in Sutton to meet me, having run the Centurion marathon earlier in the day I She had bought a lovely chicken pizza, potato wedges and steaming hot coffee with her so I stuffed a large chunk of Pizza into my mouth and chewed like a rabid dog whilst cement mixing the hot coffee down at the same time. Nothing goes down your throat when it's so dry otherwise. I grabbed my drop bag took out all the energy bars and “For Goodness Shakes” and stuffed them into my pack again. We chatted about where we were going to next meet i.e. at Box Hill Checkpoint, I kissed her and off I went again into the fading light!
As I approached Box Hill the light was really starting to fade and I was wearily running down the hills and walking the ups. It was almost pitch black when I got to the bit near Zig Zag road which by now was void of all human activity unlike earlier in the day with cyclists racing up and down and people clapping and looking on. It seemed like years not hours ago. I resolved to concentrate on my footing, now was not the time to trip on the Yew tree roots, I recalled that Yew trees were usually planted in cemeteries to ward off the evil spirits and now that my senses were heighted by the darkness all around me at about 20.15pm I realised I'd need to keep my wits about me and do one step at a time.
I ended up missing a sign which would have taken me back down the steps from along the ridge of Box Hill like the way I'd been up in the morning. I saw a course diversion sign, so thinking I would be coming down parallel to the steps along a long steep path I carried on running, and then got to a junction in the paths one heading right up to Box Hills long steps and the other down the steep sided valley. I decided to head up and up I went for about 500 yards when I saw a flashlight in the darkness, knowing Mel had come looking for me, “ I shouted Mel is that you in a squeaky voice“ when the voice resonated “yes Dave” I thought my guardian angel had appeared . We ran down or rather slogged it down the steps towards the stepping stones and across the river Mole again, and on the checkpoint by the side of the A24.On arrival I said “I am mightily relieved to see you guys here” to one of the marshals. The temptation as I can recall was overwhelming just to sit down and stay there, but no ways I said to myself you have gotta do this. I had yet more coffee, wolfed down some food, topped off my bottle again, gave Mel a big smacker and she ran a bit alongside me, when I eventually said I'd see her at St Martha's checkpoint in about 3-4 hours time as that was roughly 11 miles away, it was the penultimate checkpoint at 87.3 miles and a major psychological breakthrough for me having never run that far in my life. It was to be a battle of epic proportions and it felt like a marathon just getting there. I made my way up the road that runs parallel to Denbies Wine Estate having crossed the road at the underpass as instructed earlier at the briefing (which detailed that crossing the motorway without going through the underpass would be grounds for instant disqualification) so I made my way up the road by Denbies mostly walking as I was pickled by now and was mentally focusing on keeping things together. Eventually I got to the top and started jogging slowly again, hours passed and miles on my Garmin seemed endless.
I finally got to Newlands Corner (a large stretch of common) just before St Martha's and then ended up getting lost, so I called Mel on the mobile trying to explain where I was but she didn't have a clue and nor did I until I found a young couple sitting on the grass and they said I was at Newlands Corner. Mel consulted the guy at the Aid station and he said I was about 2 ½ miles away, whew I thought and continued shuffling on towards the checkpoint. Finally I saw lots of lights demarcating the course again and then a huge array of them near the checkpoint illuminating the surrounding darkness like a Xmas tree. It felt like Xmas when I wearing arrived there, I was reduced to an octogenarian shuffling along, whilst swinging my arms limply by my side like an ape.
Mel rushed out to greet me and the big hug certainly gave my flagging spirits a big lift. This time I wearily sat down and didn't want to move. I stuffed a piece of banana down and attempted to force feed myself with an half an egg sandwich I sat there for a while trying to recover and to get a gel down my throat as the energy levels seemed very low, when Ken a fellow runner that I knew really well came in. I asked him if I could stick with him, and swallowed down some more hot coffee which helped a bit. He said “fine” and we finally pressed on, neither one of us really in a hurry to leave the warmth of the checkpoint and venture out into the darkness again for the next half marathon to the finish. I ruminated to myself if the last 11 miles had taken over 3 hrs; I wonder how long it'll take to finish this race???? I had no idea, and I'd been running at about 13 mins per mile by now, so no wonder it was taking so long to get there. My Garmin having conked out of battery life at around 17hrs 14mins, exactly when the reading had been 86.2 miles with 9940 calories burned, roughly 115 calories per hour based on my BMI, which had left me wondering how long each mile was taking.
Ken said he'd been walking most of the hills which I had too and running the downs / flats, though I hadn't really on all occasions as I found that I was shuffling anyway and that there was a lot of roots on the down bits which if not watched carefully would cause one to trip and fall. This very nearly happened on several occasions. I thought my eyesight was getting worse, as even though there was a full moon, it seemed dark under along the overgrown pathways that were shrouded above too by tree branches that almost cocooned the runner when running along the winding paths, except when there was a gap in the tree branches above.
I wasn't in the mood to try and keep up with Ken and he wanted to get a Sub 24 hrs Silver Buckle, which I wasn't sure about doing considering my state, so I bid him adieu and I let him press on. The darkness and loneliness of the long distance runner made me feel like a character in Alan Sillitoes famous book. Several times a fox or a rabbit would scamper through the undergrowth and give me a scare, or an Owl would hoot and you'd nearly jump out of your skin with fright. The glow sticks that were hanging from the trees gave off an ethereal light, though they seemed like beacons beckoning one on and on and on.........................!! There were 600 that had been placed along the route by a myriad team of 60 volunteer helpers, what amazing organisation I thought, and what a test this was of mind, soul, body and most of all SPIRIT!
As my English teacher used to quote Emerson to me before I got beaten “pain makes man think, thought makes man wise and wisdom makes life endurable” now bend boy! I got beaten regularly at boarding school (Kearnsey College in South Africa) which is on Botha's Hill along the route of the legendary Comrades marathon, but I will never forget those words. Now that I was feeling pain, it came to me in a flash that all I needed to do was be wise i.e. eat / drink / eat / drink and keep on running, baby steps..... Or walk but just keep going and NEVER ever give up! I thought to about all the wonderful people that had so selflessly helped me along this the biggest journey of my life and things started to crystallise in my brain and my resolve turned to tempered steel. I found myself ignoring the pain in my knees, the rubbing under my arms which had rubbed all the skin away despite all the Vaseline I'd applied earlier, or my crotch which felt as though someone had set fire to my genitals ! The toenails were black and tender and my shoulders and neck ached from carrying the 2 ½ kg Hydro pack that I had been lugging around all day. But one thing that could NEVER be broken despite my body being wrecked was my SPIRIT, and as I got closer to my goal of finishing this race I actually felt myself feeling super human.
I finally got to the checkpoint 6 miles from the end this was at 93.7 miles and I was overjoyed so much so that I nearly broke down and started weeping, one more 10km to go I thought and I am home. With that I literally stopped for about 3 minutes, one dear lady offered me Tomato or Chicken Soup, I went for the Chicken Soup and tried pouring it down my throat hurriedly so I could get going though it was pretty hot. I scoffed some sandwich and took a bottle of water which I stashed, whilst also filling my hydro pack with yet more energy drink. Though just as I was about to go off another runner pulled into the checkpoint and we talked briefly then I said catch me up mate and we'll run together. He finally did but he had such long legs I kept trying to run the hills whilst he power walked them but even then I couldn't keep up. So finally I let “Stretch “ as I'd secretly nick-named him go, and I carried on alone once again.
At this point my head torch became very dim and I thought bugger it, what do I do now? So I though rationally that I would have to forget about my time and concentrate on getting there by power walking, which I must have done for yet another mile. Then lo and behold a head torch resonated its beam from the darkness of the woods and I shouted for the second time that day “Mel is that you” she replied “yes” – whew I thought you definitely are my guardian Angel! I asked her how far to go and she said about 4 miles. Great I thought, just as another 2 runners caught us up when we were walking up a gentle hill. One guy said (having recognised me passing him on return leg) gee what happened to you? I said this is the furthest I have ever run. I felt almost enraged at the comment so much so I said to myself “you're going to pay for that comment matey” and I said to Mel lets beat those guys, I'd been ahead of them all day and wasn't going to stand for that.
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The anger turned to my advantage as I said to Mel, let me have your head torch and you can wear mine they were identical anyway and I'll stay in front and dictate the pace, and you run beside / behind me and we'll burn up the last 4 miles.
We then took off like Lear jets, and left the 2 guys completely at a standstill, off we went into the night and I pushed it really hard, just wanting the pain to really hurt and the anger to keep the flames inside me keep burning. Miles just went very quickly and finally Mel said this is the last mile (pointing out a Yellow Centurion – I MILE TO GO sign)! That was it for me, by now I thought you're going to DO THIS and I raced ahead almost leaving Mel behind. I was so determined to get to the finish line, as I had had 3 hours to do the last 6 miles, the clock read 4.30am when I had one mile to go. So it took 9 mins to do that last mile though it felt like I'd been 7 minute miling.
The CENTURION FINISHING banner appeared and a cacophony of clapping resonated from out of the darkness as I ran around the last corner, and was surrounded my lots of people clapping and welcoming me home.
I sprinted over the line and the ENORMITY of what I had just achieved just made me feel so complete. I thanked James Elson profusely and he presented me with my Silver Buckle - awarded to those that run the race under 24 hours, and in addition offered me my finisher's medal and Centurion 100 mile T- Shirt.
I felt more overwhelmed by the occasion the emotion choked me and I nearly broke down, the feeling of pride had never meant so much to me.
Having seen Mimi Anderson helping out with the times I went over to her and congratulated her for her Double Badwater that she'd recently done, giving her a kiss on the cheek then did the same with Claire Shelly who had helped me earlier that day.
Having shaken hands with about a dozen people I turned to James told him that this race had meant the WORLD to me, and thanked him for a spectacular event. It was the hardest but most rewarding run I'd ever done and the memory of it will be firmly etched in my mind forever.
The Centurion 100 helped me realised a dream that for years I thought would be impossible, I have found a deep sense of inner calm having done this race, both from a physical but mainly spiritual perspective, this is complete enlightenment and re-awakening !
As the WW2 slogan goes “ No Guts no Glory!”