The South Downs Way 100 was my fourth hundred mile race and my fourth Centurion event, after running the Autumn 100 twice and Chiltern Wonderland 50 miler previously. The race is part of the World Majors Series for trail running and on that basis, fiercely competitive. Yikes.
From the Strava pictures I’d seen when uploading the gpx file to my watch in my usually futile attempt at not getting lost (one of my trademark moves) it promised to be a beautiful day out in the traditional English countryside.
The race starts at Matterley Bowl in Winchester, and takes in almost 4000 metres of undulating chalk paths of the South Downs Way, to Eastbourne. I was quietly confident as I’d trained hard but wasn’t sure if I’d done enough hills in my training? I guess I was about to find out.
In terms of a target time I wasn’t sure. My Autumn 100 finish (October 2025) was 21:50, but that was despite being ill with a chest infection that I ended up walking in due to the cough I had during the cold night on the Ridgeway. This time I was fit and raring to go! I hadn’t raced the Boston Marathon all out a few weeks before (although I ended up only seconds away from a PB time) and had managed an easy run the following day, despite my fellow running buddies being unable to walk, so despite the extra elevation, I thought a comparable time to Autumn 100 was feasible.
I was absolutely buzzing on the start line, feeling pretty starstruck next to some of the top ladies in ultra and endurance running (men too of course, but I’m always “Here for the women’s race” as printed on a t-shirt spotted in the crowd of supporters).
Huddled together for the countdown with Sarah Webster (current 24hr World Record Holder and 100km European Record Holder), Robyn Cassidy (an exceptional mountain runner with a CV including wins at Lakeland 100 & Dragon’s Back) & Imo Boddy (World record holder of the Speed Project of 300 miles), I finally realised this was really happening.
The start at Matterley Bowl is pretty epic. You do a one-mile loop around the outside of the grassy bowl before heading out on the course proper, with supporters cheering you on lining the route on both sides, making for a very memorable start to your adventure.
It was a hot day, and the route is quite exposed in general, so heat management was always going to be part of the day’s challenge. I felt good from the off, settled into my nutrition strategy early - a gel every 40 minutes, which I stuck to religiously all the way through (amazingly really as that’s a LOT of gels) and only easing off towards the end when I was walking far more than running.
Honestly, up to around the 70-mile mark, I’d say I was living my best life.
Up to this point I’d been soaking up the beautiful countryside, chatting to fellow runners and had only a couple of incidents to report: slipping over in wet mud (which was a nice soft landing for once) and booting a stone so hard I was certain my left big toenail was clean off in my shoe. Painful yes, but what 100-mile race isn’t?
I had my support crew of Phil’s stepdad David and Janet catching me at several crew points around halfway, which added an extra layer of something to look forward to, taking my mind off what was becoming some really noticeable soreness in my quads. I genuinely don’t think there is any flat terrain on this route until the final 3km.
I got chatting to a guy called Ben as we ran through some fields of wheat which were shimmering in the sun, they looked almost velvety. I said I wasn’t used to such a sight living in Gibraltar, and it turned out he’d actually lived in Gibraltar for three years, his family were in the Forces there and I knew his cousin. Small world moment. While we were mid-conversation about it, a passing walker overheard us and shouted, unprompted, “My parents live in Gibraltar! Hooray for Gibraltar!” Hoorah indeed. This is fun, I thought.
At the halfway point I ended up in a sing-along of Livin’ on a Prayer by Bon Jovi instigated by a fellow runner called Hamish who found and blasted it out on his phone speaker “we’re halfway there…”, which was a funny if bizarre moment. However his attempt to “take my hand’ was a literal step too far for me. I also saw him later on when he stated that “his crew was better than my crew” as he’d been handed a Callipo. In the scorching heat, this was a cruel blow.
At the next checkpoint a volunteer gave me an ice pop. In what had to be now almost 30 degrees at points on the exposed track, it felt like the best thing that had ever happened to me. I found out later that Hamish didn’t make it, tapping out at around the 84 mile mark. The moral of the story: never berate someone in a heatwave wielding an ice product. Karma is a bitch.
Then there was the cow incident. Somewhere in the night section. I was following the route on my watch but also relying on the reflective ribbon markers, since this stretch was in pitch darkness. At one point I was scanning around with my head torch, expecting to see one reflective marker ahead, but turned a full 360 degrees with reflections all around me. It didn’t make sense…
Until it dawned on me. I was standing in the middle of a herd of cows.
It transpires thankfully that cows in England are a bit more docile than the ones back home in Spain. Now fully awake, I picked my way out carefully and got back on course.
By the latter stages, the relentless nature of the route had properly smashed up my legs and from around 100-110km things shifted from ‘running a race’ to ‘managing damage’. This was the point where I actually agreed to myself that 100km is the perfect race distance. Everything slowed right down and the thought of a further 50km still left was quite frankly, harrowing. I just had to keep on moving. Those hours in the dark in particular, felt incredibly long (and painful). Turns out no, I really didn’t do enough hill training!
However, the time of year meant that soon it was dawn which always brings a little lift to the mood and it was almost the home stretch. I fell in with a couple of other ‘runners’ who were hobbling along just as badly and we stuck together for the last few kilometres, down a notorious stretch for those in the know of the Gully of Doom, and on into Eastbourne.
Stunning open scenery was a highlight of pretty much the whole trail.
By the time we reached the running track at the finish, we somehow found enough left between us to break into a proper run for the final lap. There’s always something left in the tank, apparently, even when you’re absolutely convinced you’re done. David Goggins told me.
Final time: 23 hours 30 minutes, which earned me the 100 Miles In One Day special buckle, and meant I finished 16th female overall. Not only that but while I was waiting for my flight I discovered I’d won a gold medal in the V45 category (British Trail Running Championships). The medal has since arrived in the post - heavy, properly shiny, and I’m absolutely thrilled.
Now it’s time to turn my attention almost immediately to the Serpent Trail 100km, probably a really bad idea only three weeks post hundred miler. Signing up for this one was actually the fault of a University friend, Tim Gough, who said he would probably run it and now isn’t. So I don’t have long to wait to see if 100km really is the perfect race distance…