The blisters, the snacks, the questionable life choices and why you should probably do it anyway.
So, you've signed up for an ultramarathon.
Congratulations! You've officially reached the stage of your life where running 26.2 miles apparently isn't enough, and you've decided that spending an entire day (or possibly two) wandering around the countryside sounds like a perfectly reasonable hobby.
Welcome to the club.
I've run 70 miles and 100 miles and many other distances under this, and I can confirm that ultrarunning is equal parts brilliant, ridiculous, exhausting and occasionally a bit disgusting.
Before my first ultra, I imagined there would be stunning scenery, a wonderful sense of achievement and perhaps a few inspirational moments as I powered majestically across the hills.
There were some of those things.
There was also a lot of walking, an unhealthy interest in the condition of my feet and some fairly serious conversations with myself about my decision-making abilities.
So, if you're thinking about running your first ultra, here are seven things I wish someone had told me.
1. Walking is absolutely fine. In fact, it's practically compulsory.
Let's get one thing straight.
Walking during an ultra is not failing.
It's called being sensible. Something you may already have demonstrated a questionable relationship with by signing up in the first place.
When you first start running, walking can feel like admitting defeat. You spend ages trying to run further without stopping, and suddenly you're entering an event where people actively recommend walking.
What a time to be alive.
But here's the thing: experienced ultrarunners walk. They walk up hills, through difficult terrain, while eating and sometimes simply because running another step seems like an absolutely terrible idea.
And that's fine.
In longer ultras, it's often the people who manage their effort well, rather than those who charge off like they're being chased by an angry farmer, who keep moving consistently.
My advice: Practise walking during training. Learn to power-hike hills and get comfortable switching between running and walking.
You're not trying to win every mile.
You're trying to reach the finish.
2. Your feet become your entire personality.
Before ultrarunning, I barely gave my feet a second thought.
Now I could probably deliver a 40-minute presentation on socks, blisters and the precise location of a suspicious rubbing sensation on my little toe.
And people would listen.
Because in the ultra world, discussing toenails with complete strangers is apparently normal social behaviour.
Your feet will experience things you never imagined possible.
Hot spots. Blisters. Swelling. That slightly alarming feeling when you realise your shoes have become instruments of torture.
And the truly ridiculous part?
You'll probably still want to sign up for another race.
My advice: Find shoes and socks that work for you, practice with them on long runs and never underestimate the importance of looking after your feet.
If something starts rubbing, deal with it early.
A tiny hot spot at mile 12 can become a full-blown personal crisis by mile 40.
And don't save brand new shoes for race day. Your feet have enough to contend with. (But I know you will!)
3. You'll eat things you wouldn't normally touch.
Forget your carefully balanced meals.
Welcome to the world of eating crisps and a Dip Dab at 3am while standing in a field wearing a headtorch.
Ultrarunning nutrition is a strange business.
One minute you're happily consuming your carefully selected energy gels.
Several hours later, the thought of another gel makes you want to launch it into the nearest hedge.
Suddenly, a slightly squashed sandwich looks like something from a Michelin-starred restaurant.
Crisps. Jelly babies. Cake. Pizza. Cola. Freddos. Flumps. Stroop Waffles.
I've eaten all sorts on long runs, and one thing I've learned is that what sounds appealing at mile 10 might be completely unthinkable at mile 60.
But eating is important.
You can't expect your body to keep going for hours and hours without giving it enough energy.
My advice: Practise eating during your long training runs, not just drinking water and hoping for the best.
Experiment with sweet and savoury foods, work out what your stomach tolerates, and have a fuelling plan that provides enough carbohydrate and fluid for your effort.
Don't rely entirely on whatever happens to be available at checkpoints.
And if someone offers you a cheese sandwich in the middle of the night, there's a reasonable chance you'll remember them fondly for the rest of your life.
4. Pace becomes surprisingly irrelevant.
Remember when you used to worry about running an eight-minute mile?
Adorable, wasn't it?
In an ultra, your relationship with pace changes completely.
You might start the race looking at your watch and thinking about your average speed.
Several hours later, your main concern may be whether you can reach the next checkpoint before the biscuits disappear.
And that's perfectly normal.
Terrain, hills, weather, navigation, eating, walking and general exhaustion all affect how quickly you move.
A mile on a flat road is very different from a mile through ankle-deep mud while trying to work out whether the path you're following is actually a stream.
My advice: Start conservatively. Seriously.
It's tempting to set off feeling fantastic and assume you're going to feel that way forever.
You won't.
Learn to run by effort, not just pace. Check the race cut-offs, allow time for checkpoints and avoid wasting energy trying to maintain a speed that doesn't suit the terrain.
The aim isn't to have an impressive first 20 miles.
It's to still be moving at mile 50.
5. Your Garmin will become your toxic friend.
I love my Garmin - probably too much!
I also occasionally want to throw it into a field.
Particularly when I've been running for what feels like approximately three working days, look down and discover I've covered another 0.4 miles.
Wonderful.
Thanks for the update.
And don't even get me started on the moment you realise you've still got 42 miles to go.
Your watch can be incredibly useful for navigation, pacing, checking distance and keeping an eye on time.
But it can also become a constant reminder of just how far you haven't travelled.
Which isn't always helpful when you're having a bit of a moment.
My advice: Break the race into smaller sections.
Think about getting to the next checkpoint, the next village or even the next five miles.
Don't spend the entire race obsessing over how far you've got left.
And make sure you know how to use your navigation before race day.
Because being exhausted, lost and unable to operate your watch is a special kind of entertainment.
6. Someone will ask, "Why are you doing this?"
And initially, you'll have a lovely answer.
Personal challenge.
Pushing boundaries.
Seeing what you're capable of.
Maybe raising money for a brilliant cause.
All perfectly sensible.
Then, somewhere around mile 37, when your legs hurt, your feet are complaining and you've just discovered another hill, you'll probably ask yourself exactly the same question.
Only with considerably more swearing.
There will be moments when you wonder why you didn't take up something more relaxing.
Pottery, perhaps.
Or sitting down.
But here's what I've learned.
A bad hour doesn't have to mean a bad race.
You can feel dreadful, have something to eat, change your socks, put on another layer and suddenly find that things feel manageable again.
Not always. Sometimes you genuinely need to stop, especially if you're injured or unwell.
But ordinary tiredness, frustration and self-doubt don't automatically mean your race is over.
My advice: Expect difficult moments.
Have a few strategies ready: eat something, check your hydration, adjust your clothing, slow down or take a short break.
And don't make a big decision about quitting simply because you're having a miserable ten minutes.
Sometimes you just need a biscuit and a word with yourself or a message from family or a friend.
7. You don't have to feel ready.
This is probably the biggest thing I wish someone had told me.
You can train for months and still stand on the start line wondering what on earth you've done.
You can look around at other runners and convince yourself that everyone else is fitter, faster, better prepared and generally more qualified to be there.
They probably aren't.
They're just better at looking calm while internally questioning their life choices.
The truth is, there's no magical moment when you suddenly feel completely ready for something that scares you.
You do your training.
You prepare as well as you can.
You respect the distance.
And then, if you're healthy and sufficiently prepared for the challenge, you give it a go.
You don't need to be an elite athlete.
You don't need to look like the people in the running magazines.
And you certainly don't need to be the fastest person on the start line.
You just need to be willing to try.
My advice: Choose a first ultra that suits your experience, build up gradually, understand the course and cut-offs, and give yourself enough time to prepare.
Being brave doesn't mean ignoring the risks.
It means doing the sensible preparation and having the courage to turn up.
One last thing nobody tells you...
You might actually love it.
Not every minute, obviously.
Some minutes you'll spend wondering whether you can legally divorce your own legs.
But there is something genuinely special about discovering that you can keep going long after you thought you'd had enough.
About seeing the countryside at ridiculous hours.
About strangers cheering you on.
About eating something wonderful at a checkpoint.
And about finally crossing that finish line knowing you've done something you once thought was impossible.
When I finished my 100-miler, it wasn't because every mile had gone perfectly, because it really hadn’t!
It was because I'd kept going.
And that's what I love about ultrarunning.
It isn't just for extraordinary athletes.
It's for ordinary people who decide to have a go at something extraordinary.
So if you've been thinking about signing up for your first ultra, perhaps this is your sign.
Do the training. Pack the snacks. Look after your feet.
And remember:
You don't have to be extraordinary to do extraordinary things.
KEEP ON SMASHING IT. ❤️
Have you run an ultra, or are you thinking about your first one? I'd love to know what surprised you most, or what you're worried about!
(for more detailed guides - see downloadable guides)