The Day I Hiked A Marathon
How a spur-of-the-moment decision turned into a lifelong love affair with hiking
I first came across the Macmillan Jurassic Coast Mighty Hike in March 2019, through a Facebook ad. I could have easily scrolled past it, but I have a tendency to see everything as a cosmic nudge from the universe. The idea of participating in a charity walk was instantly appealing.
I have a huge admiration for Macmillan nurses and the work they do. They were a great source of support to me when my mother was fighting cancer. The hike coincided with the 10th anniversary of her death so I felt a sense of duty to give back.
I’ve always wanted to do something physically challenging. I had friends who were into all sorts of trendy challenges with intimidating names like Tough Mudder, Wolf Runner, and Total Warrior, which sounded more like torture sessions to me. The idea of a hike seemed like a leisurely stroll in comparison.
I read the ad description:
The Jurassic Coast Mighty Hike takes place on the stunning Dorset Coast along the UK’s first natural World Heritage Site. With stunning coastal views and trails including famous sites such as Durdle Door and Lulworth Cove. This is a stunning, and challenging location to hike. The route covers approximately 26.5 miles between Lodmoor Country Park, Weymouth and Norden Farm, Wareham.
I spent the rest of the afternoon googling images of Dorset, Weymouth, and Durdle Door, using a Jurassic Coast map to guide my exploration. I had never been to that area but it looked incredible! I imagined myself walking on the cliffside trails, looking over the stunning coast, having a picnic lunch on the sandy beach, I could even squeeze in a little swim if the weather was nice. It was like planning a holiday but with a side of physical torment.
Except I wasn’t much of a walker. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t a couch potato either, I avoided driving and ran most of my errands on foot. I dabbled in jogging and paid my respects to the gym deities twice a month to appease my guilty conscience. But I had never hiked a long distance before. Still, it was just a walk, right?
“It’s a marathon, uphill, with a side order of 3000 feet elevation! Thanks but I’ll pass.” said a friend of mine when I asked her if she wanted to join me.
Another friend suggested I look at their other challenges which were much less strenuous.
My husband was more supportive, albeit with a tinge of scepticism in his eyes.
I was determined not to let negativity deter me so I tossed all my doubts to the wind and clicked the sign-up button! I was going solo.
And so, armed with willpower and a dash of madness, I embarked on a dual task: getting myself into shape to walk 26 miles in 3 months and raising funds for charity.
I started by creating my JustGiving page and felt a surge of pride. It was like engraving my name into the annals of heroism.
I was ready to tell the world. I shared my link with friends, family, and colleagues. There was no turning back now.
Macmillan dispatched a starter kit swiftly, loaded with tons of information about the hike, including a comprehensive training regime and a detailed map of the Jurassic Coast walking route. They also invited me to join their Facebook group, which I promptly did. I spent an hour or so reading posts from previous hikers- the tales were inspiring. Some had completed the hike two years in a row, others had been participating for years. There was also a lot of talk about scary hills and dangerous terrains but I chose to ignore that and only focus on the positives.
I learned a lot from the group, there was invaluable advice on training, nutrition, and the world of hiking gear. I went shopping over the weekend, armed with a list of the best hiking boots and socks. I had never worn hiking boots before and was shocked at how monstrous all of them looked! Eventually, I found a comfortable and decent-looking pair with help from the shop assistant. I also bought a pair of walking poles, as everyone advised. I didn’t think I would use them at all, but they played a crucial part on the day.
My training sessions were limited to the weekend initially. I joined a local hiking group and did a couple of small hikes with them. 7 miles each. It wasn’t bad. I live in a semi-rural area surrounded by beautiful nature and hiking trails but it’s all flatland. I needed a substitute for the mountainous terrain that awaited. Desperate times called for desperate measures, leading me to spin classes at my local gym, which I had previously fled in terror.
I must admit, they helped a great deal and soon enough I started to feel my legs getting stronger.
I was really enjoying my walks in nature. Spring was in full bloom and the weather was warming up so I started to go on walks after work.
I walked every opportunity I could, sometimes in groups but mostly on my own. The prospect of tackling the challenge alone left me apprehensive. Most people sign up with a friend or a partner. I enjoyed my own company, however, this wasn’t a small task. I was worried I might feel overwhelmed by the burden of the challenge, with no one around to offer support or provide that extra push when needed.
A few weeks into the training, a member of the Facebook group suggested a training hike in the area to familiarise ourselves with the terrain. I jumped at the opportunity and set off to Dorset on a sunny Saturday morning, armed with snacks and my hiking gear. We met by the local church in Weymouth. There were at least 20 people, many were already in groups but the atmosphere was warm and welcoming.
I met Christina, Geraldine, and Ellie, who invited me to join their group and later became my trusted walking buddies.
We were handed a map outlining the route and its various stops. Our hike covered a total of 20 miles but as we started in Weymouth, we walked in the opposite direction of the actual hike route. The outset was gentle, leading us along the gorgeous seafront promenade. Despite some mild inclines, it didn’t feel difficult as our time was spent talking, laughing, and taking photos of the beautiful views. With each step, my confidence in completing the hike grew stronger. We stopped for lunch at the Smugglers Inn pub in Osmington, where I enjoyed one of their award-winning pies.
As we approached our final stop on the day, located a mile shy of Durdle Door, we caught a distant glimpse of the famous three hills of doom, the subject of much discussion on the Facebook group. From the distance, they looked almost flat and easy to climb. I went home feeling a sense of accomplishment and anticipation for the upcoming hike.
I binge-watched a ton of videos of previous hikes. The one from 2018 was in the middle of a heatwave, and folks were practically melting as they trudged along. But the views of Durdle Door were simply amazing, and many hikers took a dip in the sea. I prayed for the weather gods to be on my side.
As the big day approached, I ramped up my training. I was feeling a lot fitter and more energetic than I did 3 months prior.
And then the big day finally came! My start time was 8 am, so I decided to travel the night before and sleep in Weymouth. Christina and Geraldine did the same, and Ellie lived in Weymouth, so we all met at the registration point and got our passes for the following day, then we had dinner before retreating to our hotels.
I had plans for an early night, but sleep decided to ghost me. In addition to that, my period arrived unexpectedly, leaving me in a whirlwind of anxiety.
After a sleepless night, I drove to Lodmoor Country Park, where I met up with my walking buddies. The energy was buzzing. Breakfast was served so I drank a gallon of coffee to keep me awake. We checked our gear, got some well-wishes from the Macmillan team, and off we went.
The walk started off easy, following the bay before hitting a series of small climbs out of Weymouth. The next five miles were a breeze until
We reached our first pit stop, where Macmillan laid out a feast fit for kings. There was a huge selection of food, energy bars, fresh fruit, hot and cold drinks, sweets and chocolates, water stations etc. There were tables and chairs for people who wanted to sit, but we wanted to keep the momentum so we stocked up and moved on. The weather took a turn for the worse, but I had layers of clothes and a raincoat so I was prepared.
We knew the dreaded hills were getting close but we felt confident. We stopped and chatted to other walkers, many of whom were cancer patients, and I couldn’t help but feel so much admiration and respect for their courage. Some had just finished chemotherapy, some were waiting for their treatment to start, and some had the all clear. It was so inspiring and I felt more determined to finish the hike.
And then we saw them.
The cliffs of doom. They were bigger than I thought.
In that moment, I wished we’d climbed them during our practice hike. I would have had plenty of time to bail out with grace! We looked at each other and smiled nervously. ‘We’ve got this, right?’ Christina said, injecting some much-needed optimism.
As I took the first step, my mind started to wander to all the worst-case scenarios. What if I face-planted at the top or rolled back? Would I start a domino effect with the climbers behind me? How long would it take a rescue team to be helicoptered in? Is it too late to turn back and pretend I never signed up for this madness?
We pressed on despite the mental minefield. The uphill walk wasn’t as brutal as we expected, but the wind was so relentless it turned us into human kites. I felt so thankful for my walking poles, without them I don’t think I would have reached the first peak. Once at the top, rain lashed from all angles, and I struggled to keep my eyes open. I looked down the hill and closed them again. It looked like a death trap. Some people were rolling down the hill like human boulders, while others resorted to an undignified bum shuffle. It was a surreal moment of hilarity and horror and I found myself instinctively wiping away tears from my face, unsure whether they were tears of laughter at the absurdity of it all or tears of sheer terror.
The ground was very slippery and one wrong move could result in an accident so we formed a makeshift human chain, helped by other climbers. Miraculously, we reached the bottom in one piece, but there were still two daunting hills ahead.
I looked up at the second hill, it looked bigger than the first one. The weather was relentless now and a few brave souls were turning back in defeat. I looked at the collective panic on my friends, their faces a mixture of determination and mild hysteria. With each step, the hill seemed to grow steeper but we soldiered on, encouraging each other all the way. Finally, we reached the top, where the wind was howling, the rain was pouring, and the view was… non-existent. But hey, at least we were alive.
My memory of the last hill is a blur, by this point I was delirious with exhaustion. Upon reaching the summit, we were greeted by the Macmillan photographer who captured a memorable photo of us against the backdrop of Durdle Door. I wished the weather was kinder so we could enjoy the view of this iconic landmark but the sense of accomplishment made me forget the disappointment and my questionable life choices.
From Durdle Door, it was another 2 miles of walking inland through a wooded area until we reached our lunch stop. Having covered 13 miles, we felt hungry and deserving of our meal. The lunch spread was fantastic and included a huge selection of food that catered for every dietary requirement. We filled our plates and sat inside the tent to escape the rain, but the sun came out as soon as we did, and I felt a tinge of regret for not lingering longer on the hill. Our experience might have been different had we climbed during those sunny spells. Oh well. I grabbed a cup of hot coffee and sat in the sunshine, reveling in the moment of tranquility. It was pure bliss.
From there, it was pretty much smooth sailing, with sunshine and blue skies lifting our spirits for the remaining 13 miles. After changing into fresh socks, we resumed our journey. Just a couple of miles ahead, we arrived at Lulworth Cove. As we made our way towards the beach, we passed through the picturesque West Lulworth and its cobblestone streets lined with cute coffee shops and cosy pubs.
This marked the end of our coastal walk. After crossing the pebbly beach, we arrived at Lulworth Cove, another dreaded spot for hikers as it involved climbing 97 steps! But I rather enjoyed it thanks to the breathtaking panorama of the cove and the beach beyond! As I started to climb the sun came out, casting emerald green reflections on the water and making it look like a watercolour painting. I felt grateful to be there in that moment and the intermittent pauses to capture several photos made the climb easier. It was my favourite moment from the day!
The rest of the journey led us along farm tracks and fields for several miles before transitioning to roads. Walking on the tarmac felt punishing to my feet, my legs were screaming from pain at this point. We reached the second pit stop and the 20-mile mark, and decided to take a longer break. While I hadn’t set a specific target time to finish, I still aimed to complete the walk before nightfall.
The route continued along more roads until we reached the final challenge: Knowle Hill. Yes, another hill!!! My heart sank when I saw it but knowing we were close to the end gave me the energy boost I needed. The last two miles were a pleasant stroll towards the beautiful Corfe Castle. As I walked past, I turned for a final view of the ruins before reaching the finish line.
I did it!
After 13.5 hours of walking, we reached the finish line under a glorious sunset, where we were greeted by a crowd of supporters cheering and offering congratulations.
I received my medal and was invited to join in drinks and food, but I was feeling too sick to eat anything. I sat down briefly pondering whether it was a good idea to drive back home for 2 hours in my exhausted state or book a room in a hotel. My brain was screaming for a hot bath and my comfy bed but my legs were in full-on rebellion mode.
I traded my walking boots for a comfier pair of plimsolls and drove home. By then my legs were so sore they were questioning their life purpose but despite the cramps and the red toes, I didn’t have any swelling and not a single blister. I sent a silent thank you to the shop assistant who recommended my wonderful boots and socks. They really made a difference. I slept like a baby, my heart swollen with pride for the daunting task I just completed, the incredible stories of bravery I learned about and the many friends I made along the way.
I have since been back to the Jurassic coast several times and climbed the dreaded hills in much better weather conditions.
This challenge also marked the beginning of my passion for hiking and I have since completed several challenging hikes in the UK and abroad.
To find out more and take part in the Jurassic Coast Mighty Hike 2024, visit https://mightyhikes.macmillan.org.uk/choose-a-hike/jurassic-coast
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