Running 100 miles is the worst thing I’ve ever done. You must do it too.

JFDI

This past weekend I ran 100 miles in a day.

This event was disgusting. I absolutely wouldn’t wish it on anyone, but I’d absolutely beg you to consider taking it on.

It took me deep into myself, and I experienced a physical and mental pain of despair I’ve never experienced before – there wasn’t a moment in the 24 hours I wanted to be doing what I was doing, and that’s the point of it.

Running for just under 24 hours continuously means that time as you know it changes and contorts. It literally stops moving while simultaneously racing. Looking back now it’s as if I was in a time warp. It took forever but felt so short.

Time becomes insignificant because it’s not winding down any time soon. Every glance at the actual time only serves to induce more anxiety. It’s impossible to compute he magnitude of what you are doing. It’s quite literally not ending any time soon.

At times truly hating myself like never before, feelings of guilt, fear, self doubt, self loathing and at many times having to stop completely to break down and just cry. You won’t be able to escape any feeling that’s in you. It will get you. It will ring you out.

I’m going to say it again, running 100 miles is disgusting, it’s scary, and it’s too much.

It’s ridiculously painful – calorie depleted from hour 4, forcing food down you whenever you feel you can stomach it, body always aching, throbbing pain from continuous movement (if you stop you won’t make it so you have to keep going), muscles getting harder and harder over the duration, by the last hours I felt like concrete, blisters from the outset at least have me a sensation of feeling.

When you enter the 13 hours of darkness the game truly changes. Your sight is suddenly fixed within a few meters of intense light, pure tunnel vision. It’s then that you realise you are well and truly on your own. Panic attacks came and went, mind control is the name of the game.

It’s an emotional rollercoaster of extreme drops. Self loathing doubts, a few ridiculously high ups and a lot of despairing self introspection. You’ll go through it all.

It’s scary at times. Claustrophobic to say the least… consciously in yourself, aware, for 24 hours straight. No stone unturned.

Detached from my own self, I could see me, I had the time to get to know who I was and who I wasn’t. I was on my own yet strangely in my own company. I met me straight on.

Getting through 100 miles is the ultimate test. It’s all mental. The fight with the mind is intense. It’s a battle, you are going to tell yourself to stop, you’re going to tell yourself that you’re not worthy, you’re not good enough, and the physical pain will only serve to back this up as pure logic. To push past this is an almost insurmountable test that many cannot pass. It’s illogical.

There are highs for sure. Unfortunately conscious awareness of a high was something that would signify the end of the good feelings, a gradual sadness would ensue as the good times left me. A conscious high was always met with an immediate realisation that the despair would hit in again soon.

I’m not just hamming up the difficulty of the feat because I’ve now done it. I’m hamming it up because even the hamming doesn’t get close to how horrible it was.

It’s completely overwhelming, as I said it’s best described as disgusting but when you finish, when you pass that line, and you will. Life as you know it will have changed. Life truly begins.

Give yourself a year to train, the journey to the 100 is as fulfilling and life changing as the race itself. Go on, Book one now (I recommend the Autumn Centurion Event that I just completed)

Things that got me through or just came to me that I’ve remembered.

• Expect to want to quit an awful lot. Just don’t be fooled by the mind.
• Don’t sit down unless you truly believe you have the will to get up again. The longer you sit for the harder it is to get moving.
• Have supporters on the course. You feel unimaginable gratitude and love for those that will you on. It will give you energy that you’ll absolutely need.
• Try to fuel hourly, doesn’t really matter what goes in as long as it isn’t nothing. You’re going to be in calorie deficit from the outset and it’s whiter literally a race for survival. (Ready salted crisps will never taste so good)
• Drink electrolytes (supplied at aid stations, and drink lots of it, it seems as if no matter how much you drink the body won’t sweat, this is down to a lack of salt. Electrolytes will be much needed throughout.
• Hold off from consuming sugar in any form for as long as you can. It’s a Miracle working energy supply but once you’re on it you’re hooked.
• It’s sounds simple, and it took me until the race itself to understand it. But just don’t stop. As long as you are moving one foot in front of the other, at any pace, you’re getting closer to the finish. Time doesn’t wait.
• Enjoy the hallucinations, I often thought I saw people waiting for me at spots only to get to nothing when I arrived. They’re you’re ephemeral friends.
• Keep an eye on the pace, you’re aiming for 24hours and you’ll need to be constantly re-evaluating the chances of hitting your goal.
• When it gets really bad tell yourself to simply run to the next tree, then allow yourself to walk. But when you get to the tree keep going.
• Record your emotions, (I filmed it on my Instagram stories) as it allows you to spit out negative feelings.
• Enjoy it. It’s an incredible 24 hours and although it’s deep pain and anguish it’s worth every single second. Don’t wish it away. Embrace.
• Embrace the feelings associated with your toenails falling off in the days past.

mills@ustwo.com If you want to know anything more