1 day until UTS-100M

In 24 hours I'll be on the starting line of the UTS-100M. This will be the toughest physical and mental challenge I’ve undertaken, and I’ll admit that I’m nervous. My brain has been churning for days with concerns around kit, strategy and logistics, and I've had at least one bad dream about arriving without the right kit. My sleep has been inadequate, and whilst my injury has improved, it isn't quite healed. Having backed off training for weeks, I really have no idea if I'm ready. Yet I'm excited to be doing this, racing alongside many others in such a beautiful and challenging range of hills and mountains.

People often comment to me about how difficult or unpleasant running can be for them; they'll also expect there to be little enjoyable in these events I undertake. I can understand why; the quest to complete a marathon can often be a single lifetime attempt to overcome the physical obstacle of the distance, and the reward comes from crossing the finish line and the great sense of achievement that follows. My perspective is a little different.

It has long been popular to use exercise to get in shape, look good and fend off the effects of aging. I have no age-defying physique or special abilities, running has failed to pay me back with a shapely body and I doubt anyone would look at me and judge me to be athletic. But I don’t do this for exercise, it is not a means to some other goal; neither do I consider this “type 2” fun, where the reward comes after. I love doing this, the training is fun, and the big events and adventures are a reward for the work put in. On race day, I love the apprehensive early miles, the endorphins flowing as I get in to my stride a few miles in, thinking about strategy and how to best use my kit, digging deep as the climbs get hard, trying somehow to keep moving through the night and in the periods of severe fatigue, forcing down food and drink constantly regardless of any feelings of thirst and hunger (well, maybe I don’t like that bit so much), seeing many, many amazing views and new perspectives in all weathers, running alongside others having their own battles, running alone and feeling solitude and sometimes dangers of the hills, inventing mini competitions in my head to motivate myself and then crossing the finish line knowing that very few people would have even considered coming to the start line.

I’d love to finish this race. The platitude “it’s the taking part the counts” doesn’t mean a lot to me; it doesn't need to count - the taking part will be fun and its own reward, but conquering it would be the icing on the cake.