Last month Prodney blogged about Nat running the Hibernal Hills Ultra Marathon to raise money for the Stables. And thanks to your support she made it and raised over £2,500 in the process. Read what it was like, from the comfort of your living room!

The day before the race the weather was appalling. I wasn’t afraid of the distance but I’m really not good in cold, so me and my friend Caroline did a panic trip to the local outdoor shop to buy new waterproofs. The next day began at home with porridge at 4.30am before heading to the start point at Queen Elizabeth Park in Horndean. It was still pitch black when we arrived but it was all lit up with fairy lights like a mini Glastonbury. We were surrounded by nervous people, all checking their kit and their watches – and queueing for the toilets (nerves do that).

We set off uphill immediately and that hill seemed to go on for ever, but we were motivated by the thought of the first aid station with its hot drinks and snacks. Someone we’d nicknamed ‘goat girl’ because she ran like a goat (that’s a compliment amongst runners), came out of the station and warned us not to get too excited. Turned out that runners ahead of us has descended on it like a plague of locusts and cleaned them out. Luckily I had a piece of malt loaf in my bag which I ate nervously, hoping that later aid stations had topped up their supplies to match demand or I’d be stopping at cafes or shops.

Marmite sandwiches have never tasted so good!

Luckily the next station was well-stocked, and trust me, on this day of being battered by wind and rain, running uphill and sliding backwards in the mud, marmite sandwiches have never tasted so good.

By the third aid station I was cold, and wet, and feeling very sorry for myself. A nearby tea room was calling to us, so we had a Plan B if we needed it. But this station was like an oasis, it felt really magical, with the two sweetest ladies to greet us with ‘Would you like tea, or coffee, or a hot soup?’ And they had marmite sandwiches too! And a hot radiator to take the edge off our wet clothes. It made such a difference to us at that moment.

I was wearing my RDA hat and a lady came over to me to talk about the wonderful work of the charity, and my first thought was ‘oh no, she’s being nice to me, I’m going to cry!’ I was so aware that I was cold, still had a long way to go, and needed to get back on the course before my resolve left me. But what her kind words did do was spur me on, because it reminded me of all the people who’d sponsored me, or who were tracking my progress, and of the difference that the money we raised was going to make.

Her kind words made a big difference to me and really spurred me on

Some people gave up at that third station, probably because it was so warm and comfortable that going back outside into the mud and the cold was very hard, a real mental battle. But now I was determined that I would finish, despite having hurt my left leg so now my running was lopsided too. By now the fog had come down and I couldn’t see anything except Caroline’s yellow raincoat, and as the light started to go both of us were nervous of not finishing before it got dark.

Then we were faced with a treacherous steep hill, impossible to run down in the mud. We slid on our bottoms, and fell from our feet – it was the steepest, muddiest, slippiest hill I’ve ever come across while running.

The final aid station delivered… another marmite sandwich (hurrah!), so we grabbed these but didn’t linger, intent now on finishing before the dark descended. And in the final stages of the race we met a lady who used to live in Teddington and was waiting for us. Her energy was off the scale, and I think she passed some of this on to us with her ‘you can do it, you’ve got this!’

And finish it we did, but the atrocious weather meant that it was the hardest physical challenge I’ve ever tackled.

I bet you think I jumped into a hot shower when I got home? Afraid not. Crawled out of the car, got into bed and passed out. I’m happy to report my leg is better and I’m running again, though I might avoid mud for a while. And marmite sandwiches in case they trigger PTSD. 

If you’ve read this with admiration (and fascinated horror), you can still donate to Nat’s Just Giving page if you’d like to. And to share some of the experience of this race with none of the first-hand discomforts, watch the 20 minute Hibernal Hills Ultra Marathon video made by one of the runners.