Down the South Downs Way



This is the story of the 30 mile South Downs Way ultra race, a tale of Northern Grit versus the Southern Jessies, or Southern Softies as one self deprecating local remarked.

In reality the event was a scorching day out in temperatures close to 30 degrees with a bunch of friendly people, some of whom were top athletes who set a scorching pace.

The route was an out-and-back course with drinks available only at 8, 15, 22 and 28 miles, barely enough in view of the high temperatures, but even with that knowledge a high proportion of the field chose to run with no drinks or kit.

Perhaps that was a factor behind the 10 per cent drop-out rate.

From pre-race information I knew that the start incorporated a lap of the sports field at Clayton village just north of Brighton and being a slow starter I feared being the last off the field and being a figure of ridicule. Fear not, from starting in last position I made up plenty of ground before we hit the gentle slope of the South Downs which soon had most of the field walking.

As Murphy’s Law would have it the overcast skies soon cleared and the day began to boil. The field stretched out into a long line that provided a clear guide to the route. The early terrain was a mixture of Downland grassland and stony tracks, some times narrow between scrubby shrubs and fences, and we dropped off the Downs to the A27 before climbing to a second ridge of similar terrain, Towards the turning point the route became a mixture of concrete farm tracks and tarmac lanes which bounced the heat of the sun right back up to the runners. By then it was around noon and the heat was reaching its height.

So far progress had been good, no navigational problems and gaining places on the climbs.

Drinking plenty, and with minimal help from jelly babes, heat and energy were not a problem and an improvised legionnaires hat, soaked in water at every opportunity turned out to be a good device.

The return was (surprise, surprise) much the reverse of the first half but with dwindling strength and speed. Towards the end I lost a few places in spite of running most of the later hills, having decided to walk when necessary on the rough stuff and save energy for when I could run on the grass. The descent to the village sports field down a stony track had me down to a slow trundle, with just enough energy left in the bag to run round the field.


Having expected a time of around 7 hours, my finish in 6 hrs 21 mins was particularly rewarding but way outside the over 60 winner who took 5 hrs 28 mins. (There was no over 65 class). The first 18 miles took 3 hrs 23 mins, which I can hardly claim put me up with the fast group of the Coope’s Doz because the going was so much easier and so hard and dry. The last 18 miles was covered in 4 hrs 20 mins! Out of 120 starters there were 109 finishers of whom I was the 93rd The winner a Southerner, but definitely not a softie, took 3 hrs 47 mins.

All considered, it was a great day out in a particularly scenic part of the country. Perhaps next year we could reroute Coope’s Doz down Sou…….. But then perhaps not. Nowhere’s as great as the northern fells.