Reflections on My First Year as an Ultra Runner: Lessons Learned by Caroline Chilton-Bates

Marlborough downs 33 mile

As I reflect on the past year, I question whether the title of this article is apt or not. I draw the conclusion that having now completed my first ultra marathon, that, in essence makes me an ultra runner, but I am happy to stand corrected.

Whilst currently working in Normandy,  juggling cooking for a client and training for my next challenge, I took the time to reflect on my running journey over the past 18 months channelling my thoughts aswell as distracting  my mind during  a sweaty and ‘Yes’ I admit it ‘hard “ 12km run yesterday,

Sunday 21^st April 2024 was a milestone for me. I completed my first road marathon – something I had yearned to do for many years but had been too afraid to put myself out there. I dedicated my life and soul to the training, following Kerry’s programme to the letter, even if it meant getting up at 5am to run 10 miles before cooking the shoot party breakfast. The dividends were priceless and I achieved my goal - but where did I go from there?

The morning of the 22^nd April, I overheard my husband saying he was glad it was over because life could return to normal and we could have our Sundays back - but No – I wanted more!

In the back of my mind my next step was to complete an ultra marathon. But again, that doubt – could I do it? Was I good enough? I knew nothing about how to tackle such a challenge. I didn’t even know you could walk the hills!! This feeling gnawed away at me for several weeks until the subject of ultra running came up at the end of run club one morning. Before the morning was out I had been talked into signing up for the Isle of Wight 100km to be completed over 2 days the following May. I didn’t dare mention it to the husband.

I set about training, downloading the OS Map app and buying the Ultra Marathon handbook as bedtime reading, then scaring myself sh*tless as it suggested running 50km in the third week of training. I really didn’t have a clue what I was doing and I knew I couldn’t do it alone. After a candid discussion with Kerry, she set me on the right track and off I went.

Adapting to the different type of training took some getting used to . I hardly visited the tow path where my feet had practically dug a groove the year previously. I was discovering the joys of hill repeats, that feeling of lungs about to burst and the metallic  taste in my throat,  but the more hills I did, the more I felt I could do – to a point!  I felt strong and I could start to see the progress. Then in November I developed an annoying niggle in my right knee. This then developed into a permanent swelling and the inability to bend it fully, The pain disappeared when I ran but came back tenfold when I stopped so I couldn’t ignore it. Several physio appointments and 6 weeks of no running, I felt I was ready to return – but it was now mid January and my confidence was ebbing. The murmurs of self doubt were messing with my head. I didn’t want to just ‘do it’, I wanted to do it well, especially as the logistics and cost of the whole crazy adventure wasn’t going to be small change.

As luck would have it my partner in crime for that event was also injured so between us, we made the executive decision to postpone until May 2026. But we still needed to do something. It was agreed to do the Marlborough Downs 50km Challenge which fell on the same weekend. Right – back on track and half the distance to cover. Although looking at the event information it looked like a serious event and your prize for completing was a mug and not a shiny medal (small point!).

It was at this point I started my training in earnest. My OS map app came to be my best friend, except when the paths were not existent, I would cadge a lift when Alan (husband) went to Cornwall  on business and get him to drop me / pick me up at various points along various coastal paths , I would spend my Sunday mornings running (or walking) through beautiful countryside avoiding roads and exploring new tracks I never knew existed. I was living the life!

My longest run was tied in with a weekend in Wales and I chose to do 35km along the Gower Coastal path from Llangennith to Caswell – a route I had walked many a time though not all at once. I started early but it was going to be a scorcher. The hills were steeper than I recalled and at one point wanted to quit as it hurt so much, but the lack of mobile signal dictated I had to dig deep and carry on. At Oxwich Bay, I stopped for a cold drink (because I could!) Never has a can of cold fizzy sugary lemonade tasted so good. Then I was off again – not caring what I looked like to the sunbathers and in hindsight must have been a sight as I’d already stumbled on a downslope and landed in a gorse bush so was bloodied and scratched. One foot in front of the other was all I had to focus on. That was tough but it was good mental training for what was to come. I wasn’t racing the clock, the km splits didn’t matter – this was a different ball game and I had to grasp it with both hands and adapt.

Several weeks later the 17 mile Bath beat. It almost felt like cheating – 17 miles of beautiful off road trials, run walking with a lovely pair of ladies, chatting all the way and bumping into friends along the way. Yes, I was tired by the end and probably overfilled on the tea afterwards that was reminiscent of a children’s party but I was having the time of my life.

The day of the event arrived and with it the uncertainty of what to wear/ not to wear , the usual ‘do I need another wee’ question and willing the clock to chime 9am as I was flipping freezing hanging around.  The route was unmarked so I had downloaded the map but typically my app didn’t talk to my watch  - bloody Apple. I had the paper copy of directions in my pack aswell  but I knew from the outset that wasn’t going to work either especially as the print was so small I’d need my reading glasses! Glancing about I soon realised this was a small gathering and everyone looked quite serious and a lot fitter! The ‘oh bloody hell’ thought went through my mind. Off we went and at a seemingly fast pace. I was quite grateful for the stiles so I could actually catch my breath! The first 10km seemed faster than my marathon race pace and this wasn’t part of the plan but I was swept along by it as it was a narrow path and I felt I had to keep going. I really wasn’t enjoying this and I was only 10km in. The 14km cut off time at 11am seemed a long way off but  the miles seemed to drag. I could see the checkpoint in the distance along the escarpment and I had 20 minutes to reach it. This just wasn’t going to happen and I had already resigned myself to the thought that I would be diverted to the shortened route – but as with my training run, I just kept chugging along and made it within 5 minutes .

It was at this point I turned to the seasoned ultra buddies and candidly told them I couldn’t keep up this pace and just to leave me  - but I was assured this had been the push to get top the checkpoint and we could relax from now on! That was quite a relief as I was still fretting about the nav, should I get left behind. We had already picked up one straggler who was following us, even to the point of ‘into a wee stop bush’ as he didn’t have a clue where he was going. He actually stayed with us for the next 40km and by the end I had his entire life story!

I finally settled into it, though where all the other runners were, I have no idea as I hardly saw a soul. I began to wonder if this was what ultra running was all about. At 25km my IT band decided to protest, resulting in a stabbing pain for 10 miles that just wouldn’t let up. ‘Oh please God, just get me through this and let me finish!’ I suddenly empathises with the little mermaid when she lost her tail to be with her prince! Fortunately my new BF was prattling on to such an extent, it served as a  welcome distraction.

Checkpoints were closely spaced out  - the longest being 7km apart so ticking them off was a mental win. Then I hit the 35km point – furthest I’d run in training . I knew I could do it at this point. Mentally I had broken it down to 5km chunks from here. My straggler friend was still prattling but he was struggling and I found myself giving him a bit of positive mindset coaching.  Every hill he complained it was tough, followed  by comments such as “I haven’t trained at all!”  I turned to him about to give him all sorts of backchat but just calmly told him to keep putting one foot in front of the other and he would be be fine! OK this was good, the kilometres were disappearing and the end was in sight.

Seven hours in, the bloody Apple watch announced the battery was 10%. FFS – really??

At this point it the fear wasn’t of not finishing but of my watch not recording this momentous achievement of running further than I had ever run in my entire life! The last 10 km passed by in a blur, I was euphoric but didn’t really care that I may have been the last competitor to finish. An incline to finish, which I actually recall jogging up. Then the downhill to the finish. I saw the finish line banner , which was still manned and was overcome with emotion. Sod the stiff upper lip rubbish, I was about to finish my first ultra marathon. We all joined hands and crossed the line together – camaraderie at its best. My feet felt beaten up, my hamstring (or whatever it was) thanked me for stopping woth one last jab of pain) and I smelt earthy to say the least – but the feeling of euphoria was ever present.

A few lessons were learnt along the way – make your own plan , though I would have been lost without my two seasoned running teammates, never lose faith and Apple watches are a crock of wotsit! Needless to say, I collected my mug with pride and it now sits on my desk… and Yes I have entered another one – roll on November and standby Gower!

Finish of the Marlborough Downs 33mile