Jurassic Coast Half Challenge - or The Race That Nearly Killed My Love Of Hills

I ran the Jurassic Coast Half Challenge (JCC) on Saturday 22nd May, but I needed a little time to process the event before writing up my experience. Although it’s now been over a week, I don’t think I have fully processed it but I feel it’s time to write about it before the pink goggles of time-fading distort the memories.

I signed up for the 2020 version of this race last year after the Paris Marathon I had signed up for was cancelled, and on my coach’s suggestion. At 58k with 1600m total ascent, I knew that it wouldn’t be a stroll in the park but then I had already run (and somehow won outright) the Cotswolds Way Half Challenge (CWC) in 2018, which looked similar with 50k and 1250m total ascent. Then due to COVID, the JCC was cancelled and postponed to 2021. I still wanted to run it so I just kept on training, hoping I would be able to make the new date. I did wonder whether to upgrade to the full 100k challenge and discussed with my coach but the training mileage required of up to 110/120k a week was more than I thought I could - or even wanted to - manage. So 58k it was going to be.

Having a big event to train for during the COVID lockdowns rollercoaster really helped me mentally. My training plan was the only certainty, with a clear plan for the day - no matter what else happened in the world, I would just lace up my shoes and go out and run. Sometimes it had to be at night, because during the day the streets were too busy and I didn’t want to constantly have to dodge people to be able to stick to social distancing. At night there was pretty much no one around so it was much easier to achieve flow.

I kept on training and building up the mileage. One difficulty was to replicate the ascent I would be facing during the race. There are a few small hills around where I live, some with 10% incline but that’s about it. Anybody who is both familiar with Richmond Park and the Jurassic Coast knows that the terrains are hardly comparable, but laps of Richmond Park is the best I had to train on locally.

Race day finally arrived and the usual nerves showed up. I don’t think I’ve ever approached a race cool as a cucumber. No matter what my goal is, I’m still a bag of nerves. But I know it goes away as soon as I cross the start line. I felt ready. I knew I had not trained on the steepest hills but I had ran a number of 32/34k training runs, my nutrition had been good, I had become faster lately and I felt generally strong. The odds were good. I had experienced some issues with blisters during training as I had had to get my trusted custom insoles refurbished but I had them back and had broken them in so I was good to go. In terms of race day equipment, I hadn’t reinvented the wheel and instead searched my Facebook’s memories to find a picture of my flat lay for the CWC - et voila!!

(Almost) flat lay

I arrived at the Corfe Castle start with plenty of time for my 09:50am start but straight away was taken aback by the registration queue, which was huge. I had had no queue at the start of the CWC so it was a bit of a shock. But because I still had plenty of time before my wave start, there was nothing to worry about. I dropped my bag at the bag area (I had packed a few warm things that I could wear after finishing the race), did the compulsory stop at the portaloo and headed for the tent to stay away from the drizzle (another contrast from the CWC which I ran on a very hot sunny day). Also, I had a hill strategy. Originally I had told my coach I was going walk up most of the hills like I had done for the CWC and run the rest, but he advised me to try and walk/run them instead to gain precious time, and walk the steep downhills instead to minimise the risk of injury. So I had agreed with myself to try the walk/run if possible and drop to a walk if it got too tough and my legs didn’t feel up to it. That bit was going to be ok. But then, came the first blow: the first 25k was going to be a loop taking us back to the start. I had missed that when looking up the route as I had been so focus on the elevation. For some reason, that hit me hard. I’ve always been one to hate laps, which is why I’m not fond of track training (although I know it would be good for me). I much prefer A to B route, which is why the CWC had fitted me like a glove. This may have been a pivotal moment in my JCC race. And I had not even started.

Ready!!

Notice the smile looks more like a grimace

It was now time to get to the start line and check out the competition. Because the JCC is open to walkers, joggers and runners alike there was a mixed crowd but I was interested in the other runners. Did I have a chance to win? Maybe. That would be nice, but I was more interested in just finishing the race and being finally able to chill for a few weeks. There were a few other runners there, and I knew there may be other runners in other waves also. That is the interesting thing about the races from Action Challenge is that because of the different wave start times you never actually know what your current ranking is. Which can be a good thing, as you are only really competing against yourself. But if you are after a win, it’s impossible to know how the other runners are handling the race as they could be well ahead of you or way behind you, neither of which is a reflection of their finish time. So better to park this aside until you cross the finish line and check your place then.

I honestly can’t remember much about the first 15k. I just remember it being undulating, feeling a bit frustrated about not seeing the sea, and annoyed at having to overtake a rather large number of walkers (who were probably just as annoyed by me passing them) in narrow sections of the route. I only had myself to blame for not picking an earlier start time - once again I had wrongly relied on my CWC experience where there were fewer walkers and very few narrow sections. I also met two guys who appeared to be running roughly at my pace. We started chatting and they asked me what time I was hoping for. I replied jokingly that I needed to check out the hills before I could give them an estimate. They were running the quarter challenge 25k, and said they were hoping for 2 hours. A quick calc in my head and judging their current pace, and I had a little internal chuckle (they seem to be pretty serious about it). I mean 2 hours for a 25k on flat would be decent. But they had to contend with 570m total ascent, so from my experience I thought it sounded a tad optimistic. But I kept my mouth shut and just wished them good luck.

Around 15k is when problems started to show up. By then I had probably climbed less than 350m. That was not good. My legs felt tired but I couldn’t figure out why. I had taken my gels, drank my fluids, there was no local pain anywhere. I had been in much better shape at the start of JCC than I had been at the start of CWC, so what was happening? I knew I had only 10k left before the refuelling station, I just had to keep going until then and then assess the situation. But what if I gave up now? There was still such a long way to go to the 58k finish line. It felt pretty impossible to manage. Then I thought I had told so many people about this race and I had trained so hard for this, I couldn’t just give up without a fight. I had to keep going. I had to adjust my pace. And if that meant more walking that I had originally hoped, so be it. So I kept putting one foot in front of another. There were some pretty muddy sections on the way. I was so fed up with running in mud, as the previous few weeks had been so miserable weather-wise and I am no mud enthusiast. But I tried to see the positive side, at least I had my Hoka Speedgoat shoes on and not my Challenger ATR ones so I could stay upright!

The sea, at last!!

Ok, there WERE some pretty nice views on the way…

The next 35k or so were really a case of putting one foot in front of the other and trying hard to focus on that. The immediate goal was to get to the refuelling station at 25k. I would allow myself a brief rest there. At about 23k I spotted the ‘2-hours’ runners again. By that point almost 3 hours had passed. Another internal chuckle. I overtook them and reached the refuelling station. I filled my bottles - after a few attempts as I had not realised the squash had not been diluted. I should have checked first as I nearly spat it out. Even to a dehydrated runner, plain squash tastes pretty disgusting. I lay down on the ground in the recovery position for about 10 minutes. Although I was pretty tired, I didn’t want to get too comfortable there (yes the bare ground felt very comfortable at that point) but most importantly I was starting to get cold and needed to get moving again.

Putting one foot in front of the other became hard when we hit the steep hills. I distinctly remember the feeling I experienced at the bottom of each steep hill, just looking up and muttering under my breath ‘FFS, not another one!!!’. Remember that my legs had gone at 15k, so for each hill I had to dig pretty deep. I did briefly consider stopping to take some pictures en route but decided against it because I couldn’t be bothered and just wanted to get to the finish line as soon as possible. Eventually I gave in and took shots of the most noticeable places (a grand number of four pics) - they are all in this post. I don’t think there was much else going on in my mind at that point besides getting to that finish line. Until I hit that pebble beach. Covered in slippery algae. There was much internal swearing going on at that point.

Not another hill!!

… and a pebble beach!

Something happened about 10k from the finish though. The hardest work was behind me then and my spirits suddenly lifted in the most spectacular way. Finally the finish line felt within reach. Finally I had the certitude I would not DNF (a runner’s term for starting but not completing a race, ‘Did Not Finish’). The rain had gone away and I felt like - a very slow - Laura Ingalls. I overtook a few runners on the way (most of them walking, but to be fair, they were doing the 100k distance, so fair play) and there were very few walkers on my way by that stage. There is honestly nothing like the knowledge that your remaining mileage falls to a single digit during an ultra marathon. The last mile was along a stretch of beach in Weymouth and knowing I was getting so close was totally elating. A few more turns and the finish line was in sight. A few of the volunteers started clapping when they saw me approaching. I was beaming. I was on the verge of tears. The feeling of achievement was intense and overwhelming. I reached out for my phone and my husband had sent me a screenshot showing I was third female in the race, which was totally incredible and unexpected given the struggle. But I had run slightly faster than in the CWC and given the bigger total ascent, this was an accomplishment in itself. My coach had also tracked me during the race and told me I had overtaken the third female in the last 16k (I wasn’t aware of that as she had started her race about three hours before me so had long finished by the time I crossed that finish line). It just shows that it’s worth pushing until the end, as I finished a mere eight minutes faster than her.

Hurray!

Now, will I run another ultra-marathon? If asked on the day, my answer would have been ‘You have to be joking’. This race felt tough compared to the CWC which I really enjoyed, and I was much better prepared so I still don’t know what went wrong. My best guess is that my mindset contributed to it. A few days later, when asked, I said ‘Give me a few more days’. Today, it’s been over a week and I will tell you ‘Definitely’. Ultra-marathons are tough physically and mentally, they’re painful, they make you question your life choices for sure. But they’re also stories of resilience, of determination, of that physical strength that’s in all of us if we’re willing to try hard. So if you’re ever considering running one, stop thinking and sign up - it will be the best thing you’ve ever done.

Happy running!