Six months in the planning and preparation, race day was finally here. We’d picked up our numbers, taken pre-race photos and lined up at the start. Brighton was 100km away. And the sun was shining. We sort of knew what lay ahead – some big ups and downs on that route – but wanted to live “in the moment” as much as possible. We didn’t care how long it was going to take us… we just wanted to get to Brighton in one piece and finish the race.

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Section 1: Messing about on the River (From Richmond to Kingston)

We started slowly and steadily from Old Deer Park – about 250 people in our wave, After a short section on grass, we reached the Thames and turned left onto the river bank. And we stayed riverside for about the next hour, chatting to a few of our fellow Brighton-bound runners, dodging the preparation for the Twickenham Rowing Regatta, spying a beautiful location for a yoga retreat on the opposite bank, and pausing briefly for a photo by the start of Kingston parkrun. At this point, it was just a regular Saturday morning run… trying not to think about how far we had to go, but enjoying where we were now.

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Section 2: In Suburbia (From Kingston to Oaks Park)

From Kingston, we started to zigzag away from the river. We made it to our first checkpoint near New Malden (just a brief stop to fill up our water bottles and have a cup of tea), then the next few miles of the route took us through one suburban centre after another – where post box toppers were seemingly everywhere (the donut one was my favourite). It was a little bit disconcerting, as we passed parades of shops, housing estates and everyone about their regular Saturday mornings, but without really knowing where we were. Crossing through Stoneleigh Railway Station was also slightly surreal. The day was warming up but our progress was still good. Nonsuch Park came and went, and quarter distance was just up one more hill. Time for a catch up with our support crew and a picnic.

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Section 3: Walking on Sunshine (From Oaks Park to Bletchingly)

As the day was warming up, and after a picnic with our support crew at the 25km mark, we escaped from suburbia and headed out into the countryside – lavender fields, buttercups and woodland footpaths (and probably more styles than we really wanted). We climbed our first big hills and came down through Happy Valley – this was probably my favourite stretch of the route. We still had energy to chat, underfoot conditions were good and the sun was shining. After passing under the M25, crossing the railway line with the help of a marshal, then climbing another hill, we made it to the next checkpoint (which had a pick & mix station). We’d completed marathon distance in about 6 hours. We were still feeling good, but it was tricky staying hydrated and cool. The checkpoint came just at the right time.

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Section 4: A Mouse Lived in a Windmill (From Bletchingly to Tulley’s Farm)

Our support crew was waiting for us by the windmill in Outwood not too long after the checkpoint – time to refuel, change shoes and a put on a fresh t-shirt. We were very happy to see them. Another lovely section and we made good progress along country lanes and through the woods – despite finding lots more mud on this bit. An almost-missed sign on a lane in the middle of nowhere showed us that we’d made it to half way and gave me a boost – thanks to the two girls out for a walk who took our picture (hopefully they’ll be inspired to take part next year). The last few kilometres before the “half-way” checkpoint at Tulley’s Farm were tough – it wasn’t quite as warm, and there was a bit of shade, but the almost customary “uphill” into the checkpoint was energy-sapping. But we got there and then it was time for a sit-down and a refuel (of me and my watch battery) – spaghetti bolognese on the menu. I struggled to eat the sauce, but got some sneaky seconds of the pasta – Julie wouldn’t let us set off until I’d eaten properly (thanks Julie). What I really wanted was spaghetti hoops on toast – sadly not available. But it did the trick. Time to go again – marathon distance to go.

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Section 5: School’s Out For Summer (Tulley’s Farm to Ardingly)

After a bright start powered on by our refuelling at Tulley’s Farm, this part of the race turned into a bit of a slog as we covered villages, fields and winding footpaths, and skirted past some very fancy looking schools and colleges. Despite best efforts to stay in the moment, it was difficult not to think about how far we still had to go, knowing also that rain (and lots of it) was coming. There were a few climbs, a bit more mud, lots more stiles and, as light was fading and it was finally getting cooler, another really hard climb up from Ardingly Reservoir to the village. I was totally focused on making it to the checkpoint – food, drink and toilets waiting for us. Let’s just get there. There are no photos from this section – I didn’t want to stop for anything. And then, with a short run down a grassy hill, we were made it to the checkpoint at Ardingley College – which looked to be the fanciest of all the private schools we passed on this stretch. How many tennis courts? Is that a cricket ground? The rest and respite were much needed, but we couldn’t linger too long – Bryn and Jon just a couple of miles further on with supplies for the final sections.

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Section 6: Stuck in the Middle With You (Ardingly to Lindfield)

The route first took us past the reservoir again and then into more wood and farmland. We’d seen a few cows and sheep in the fields so far, but now we found lots of cows and a lot more mud (with added cowpats). Disaster struck – Julie’s shoe was stuck in the mud as we tried to get through a gate at the edge of another field of cows (and a bull as well, just to add to our feelings of jeopardy). We’d just been debating whether to change shoes when we met up with our support crew in Lindfield – no doubts now, new shoes would definitely be needed. With the light rapidly failing, our shoes caked in mud, and the route taking us down some very dark footpaths, the couple of miles to Lindfield were tough. Fortunately, the local Co-op sold baby wipes, so operation clean up commenced as soon as we arrived at the car park. We were both really tired now – changing my socks took about five minutes – but after collecting fresh clothes, coats and headtorches, it was time to carry on again. One foot in front of the other – just keep moving. And we managed to run again as we left Lindfield.

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Section 7: Don’t Stop Believing (Lindfield to Plumpton)

We passed the outskirts of Haywards Heath, not too far from the Sightsavers office, and I lost all real sense of our location from this point onwards. There were more stiles and fields, and a few animals looking surprised by night-time visitors – hello sheep! There were a couple of moments where we had to stop and look carefully to find the next arrow – getting lost now was not an appealing thought at all. We were thankful for the support and help of fellow participants on a couple of occasions. We still had time to smile and laugh though – Julie’s head torch was so bright, it created a huge Liz-shaped shadow covering half a field if I went in front of her. We saw our support crew for one last time at Wivelsfield, then headed on to Plumpton, arriving at the final checkpoint as rain began to fall. It had been tough, but we weren’t giving up. Despite lots of doubts in the run-up to race day and during all our preparation, we never stopped believing. We knew we would finish, we just had to get through one last section. We prepared for the elements and headed out into the rain.

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Section 8: River Deep, Mountain High (Plumpton to Brighton)

Energy levels fading, and Saturday shifting into Sunday, we began the steepest climb of the route up to Ditchling Beacon, with the heavy rain providing a stark contrast to the beautiful sunshine of Saturday. Up, up, up we went, battling conditions and our fatigue. We just wanted to come round one last corner, and see the flags of the finish line and then we would be done. There wasn’t much running over the last few miles – even once we’d get to the top of Ditchling Beacon. Coming down felt almost harder than going down – rivers of rain, amongst mud, gravel and grass. No falls now. The last few kilometres seemed almost endless, made even worse by us missing the kilometre markers at 96km and 97km.

But then we were on the race course, and getting closer and closer to the finish. We didn’t have the energy to run, but we were definitely walking as fast as we could and it was great to have Jon and Bryn cheer us to the finish. And then we were done.

Proud, a little bit broken and very, very tired.

But happy. It was a beautiful day.

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