Well I ran the UTSW this weekend, and it was an awesome experience, and a tremendously difficult challenge. This was the first running of this race, and would be my first attempt at a 100 mile ultra. The race started at Porthleven and followed the South West Coast Path for 100 miles to Watergate Bay, including the aforementioned 6500+m of vertical gain, going through Lands End, St Ives, Newquay and other points along the way. Other challenging aspects would include the technical nature of parts of the trail, inconsistent course marking, crossing the Gannel estuary prior to entering Newquay (the route you take would be dependent on the tide at when you arrived), and depending on the hour, getting hassled by all the drunken idiots that descend on Newquay on a weekend night. The RO's have stated that they are trying to create an extremely tough course, to rank with the most challenging races in the UK and beyond. As this is was my first 100 miler I have no frame of reference, but I can certainly testify that it was the hardest thing physically I've ever done. There was also a 60 mile version starting at Pendeen Watch (CP4 for the 100 mile course) at 7am on the Saturday, and a 100 mile relay.
The 100 mile race kicked off at 7pm Friday evening, meaning anyone not going under around 26 hours would be running through at least part of two nights. All I wanted to achieve was a finish, and was trying to prepare myself mentally for slogging on till Sunday morning. The race was originally going to be unsupported by the RO’s in terms of food, with CP’s giving out water only and runners getting repeated drop bag access. Then this changed in a second iteration of the race manual and the drop bags seemed to be out, and for a long time no one was sure how the race was going to work, which was obviously less than ideal, although I do appreciate that with this being the first running of the event there were many details to iron out. To Endurance Life’s credit they did communicate very well with the race community in the run up to the start, and seemed to take on board the feedback that people had regarding issues such as navigation following their recce’s, and also reversed their earlier decision to cut the time limit down to 32 hours, which I believe was a correct one. In the end the organisers stated they would provide a selection of food at each CP, with competitors getting access to drop bags at 2 points. The food that was promised seemed pretty substantial, but I made sure my drop bags were stocked with a ton of food anyway, and crammed as much as was practical into my backpack.
We were bussed out to the start from the registration (and finish line) at Watergate bay, where we had a team photo, faffed around with kit, and got ready to go. As soon as we started I immediately forget my plan to go slow and steady and hared off after the lead pack. The first stage from Porthleven to Marazion was quite runnable, with a moderate amount of elevation change. The scenery was spectacular, particularly as the sun was getting low in the sky over the rugged Cornish coast; I wish I’d taken more photos but was feeling really good about the progress I was making (although I knew it was far too fast) and was loath to stop or slow down. I hit Marazion in just under two hours, about an hour ahead of when I planned. At the first CP there were only cola bottles and Clif shot blocks, which was slightly worrying but I cracked on anyway. Stage 2, to Lamorna Cove was mostly flat and fast other than the last mile or two, which starts to move onto the cliffs and which was a sample of what was to come. I’d done this section in my recce so felt reasonably confident, although it didn’t stop me taking a couple of tumbles and cutting my knee open.
It was dark when I hit CP2 at Lamorna Cove, about 20 miles in. I dibbed in, took the shot blocks and Clif bars that were on offer, as well as snacked on a few bits from my pack. I also sorted my knee out and put leggings on, knowing that section ahead was overgrown with nettles and other such treats in many places. Stage 3 to Lands End was amongst the hardest parts of the course, and negotiating paths along the cliffs by night required a lot of care, but it was certainly some exhilarating running, at least on the bits that were runnable. Allegedly I was in 9th place heading into CP2 but I knew that wouldn’t last. This section seemed to drag on and on, as the pace was so slow, but finally the Lands End hotel came into sight and we were rewarded with an indoor CP and drop bag access. We were gutted not to get the promised porridge, but did get hot soup, bread, peanut butter, flapjacks, and numerous energy bars so there was finally plenty on offer. I also restocked my pack and scoffed more of own supplies and washed it down with coffee. I saw Neil Bryant laid up on a stretcher with an ankle injury at this point, his race sadly over. I moved on after about 15-20 minutes, and promptly made the same mistake going into Sennen Cove that I made on my recce. Hooking up with a group of 2 other runners, Scott and Kenny, we negotiated the dunes and cliffs, taking another few wrong turns along the way; I withdraw my comment at the top of this thread about the easy nav!
The sun started to come up as we moved towards CP4 which was welcome relief, and my little group hit Pendeen Watch in about 10 hours, which was better going than I’d expected. We were surprised to find hot porridge being served by enthusiastic volunteers, which we had expected at the previous CP! We fueled up well before moving out on the 6.4 mile stretch to Zennor Head, which although short was amongst the hardest of the entire race. Whole swathes were unrunnable, or boggy, and the elevation change was brutal in places; whilst the coast path is never particularly high, the climbs are very steep, often comprising steps hacked into the cliff sides. Those 6.4 miles took us over 2 hours, and we were profoundly glad to reach the CP. After scoffing various Clif Bars, biscuits and flapjacks we moved out toward St Ive’s on another short but difficult stage, with about 12 and three quarter hours elapsed. We managed to get completely off track again at this stage and lost a significant amount of time, although since I had no actual finish time in mind I didn’t get too fussed. We ended up fence jumping and bush whacking to get back on track, by which point we were overtaken by the first other runners we’d seen in hours. It wasn’t long before the leading 60 mile runners started overtaking us as well.
Fatigue was starting to set in now, and drowsiness, and the course was certainly battering my feet and ankles, although my legs (knee aside) was mostly ok. We hit CP 6 at St Ives a couple of hours later, 53.4 miles in. The weather was getting warm, the wind dropped, we were over halfway and through the worst stretches; this should have put us in good spirits but I was starting to feel quite battered and had trouble breaking into a run. Scott had dropped back now, struggling with feet and ankles so I was now moving in a pair, and we decided to pop into one of St Ive’s numerous bakeries for some Cornish ice cream, which went down a treat and raised my morale a couple of notches. Moving out from St Ives through Hayle towards CP7 at Godrevy Point I also saw my family for the first time since the start line, who had travelled down to support me, for which I was deeply appreciative. I was having great difficulty running for any length of time at this point, even on the flats. My knee and feet were in quite some pain and I took ibuprofen for the first time. We got caught here by Scott, who’d had the first of two or three miraculous recoveries.
We walked the three miles of Hayle beach, cracking jokes and picking each other up, and even managed to pick up some lost time; the course had enough flat stretches in between the savage stair climbs that you could walk at 3+ mph and make up time on the cut offs. There was no disguising how beat up were feeling though, and we walked most of sections 7 and virtually all of 8 to Porthtowan, death marching for hours on end, although still picking up time along the way. On the way from Porthtowan to Perranporth we lost Scott again as his pace dropped due to the level of pain he was experiencing, and we cracked on, as to my own astonishment it looked like we might break 30 hours if we pushed on. Kenny gunned it off into the distance, chasing his own pre-midnight finish goals, and tried to follow as best I could. The weather started to take a long promised turn for the worse I approached Perranporth alone, to see my family for the final time before the finish.
It was bucketing it down as I crossed Perranporth beach and dunes, and as I moved up onto the headland I was buffeted by gale force winds. My lightweight waterproof didn’t hold it out and I was soon soaked to the bone and freezing cold. I was only 15 miles from the end, but nightfall was fast approaching and I was rapidly getting into a bad mental state. Bizarrely however, the pain in my feet and ankles vanished and I got a tremendous burst of energy from nowhere, and coupled with a desire to keep moving in a vain attempt to keep warm, I was banging out what felt like 7 minute miles on the flats, and was even running all of the uphills; I don’t think I moved at that pace even in the first couple of miles. I’ve never experienced such a dramatic and unexpected physical turn around and I’m still at a loss to explain it. It took me as far as the Gannel estuary as it got dark, where to my disappointment I found the tide still in, and the nearest bridge impassable. A local lady kindly explained the way to the second designated crossing, but the prospect of the extra couple of miles this might add on was pretty awful to contemplate given the sodden and bedraggled state I was in.
I made it over the river in the end, and puzzled my way to the last CP at Fistral Beach; luckily I’d monged out on that beach after my recce so once I was in town I knew where to go. I was in and out of the last CP in about a minute, as my water and food supplies were sufficient for the last 5.8 miles. After blasting out the previous 9 miles at rapid clip I was burned out now however and was back to walking, although thankfully the wind and rain was now mostly at my back on the last stretch. I walked through Newquay and avoided getting hassled by drunks, which was probably in part down to the horrendous weather which kept the streets clear. Sub 30 was still on so I did my best to push on, although I was moving much slower now, and the trail was sodden and difficult to negotiate in parts.
After around 29 hours and 40 minutes I rounded the final bend and was confronted with the lights of the Watergate Bay hotel, and descended the track into the car park and the finish line outside the beach cafe, where Endurance Life director Gary Joliffe was waiting. I staggered in to dib my sport ident timer for the last time, just prior to 1 am on Sunday morning, and was greeted by my family and hot soup served to me by kindly staff, who didn’t take offence to my repeated and semi-delirious requests for ‘All of your bacon and all of your eggs’. After lashings of soup and sweet coffee I got my head together, grabbed my kit and headed back to my hotel for a much needed shower. I learned from Gary Joliffe that winner had made it around in 19 and a half hours, which I found scarcely credible given the nature of the terrain. Competitors continued to arrive throughout the night and morning, displaying incredible determination and fortitude to keep moving in such testing conditions, with the last runner, Scott Talling, crossing the line in 39 and a half hours to receive his well earned finishers medal and the admiration of all of his fellow competitors.
Overall I am thoroughly glad that I entered the race (and that I finished!), despite how I’m hobbling around at the moment. There were undoubtedly some problematic issues with the organisation; the quantity of food on offer at CP’s was less than promised, and I can see how this could have caused problems for people who raced light, although against this I always managed to grab at least something at each one, I never saw a completely empty CP. Crossing the Gannel also ensured that some runners would have to go further to deal with the high tide and this could perhaps have been handled differently; however I think the ultimate intent of the organisers to put on a great event shone through, as did the enthusiasm of the volunteers at all the CP’s, and am willing to chalk some of this up to teething problems which hopefully will not reoccur in subsequent years. It is also a pricey event (£120 plus another £20 for coach transfer to the start), but again I took enough out of it (materially and also in terms of experience) that I don’t begrudge it at all. Overall, I feel privileged to have been part of the first running of the race and would certainly recommend it for the future, although maybe not on an annual basis!
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