Fundraiser of the Month: James running the Cotswold Way

102 miles in 25 hours

Winchcombe (at 30km) was the first opportunity to stock up on liquids and a climb out of the town then turned into rolling fields. The scenery changed in the blink of an eye, from hills, to woodland carpeted in bluebells, to tracks lined with thistles, to farmland, with sheep and cows watching me inquisitively as I ambled past. As marathon distance approached, a climb up Cleeve Hill was tough but worth it for sensational views over Cheltenham, Gloucestershire and even Wales’ Brecon Beacons in the distance. … Through woodland with a view over Gloucester (at around 73km), I made the mistake of tempting fate by thinking to myself, ‘I’m really enjoying this,’ only to badly stub my toe on a tree root … twice … leaving me hobbling for a couple of 100m sections. I cursed the tiredness setting in which meant I wasn’t picking my feet up. … At 120km, a mini natural waterfall in Splatt’s Wood and some water purification tablets gave me the liquids that would see me through to the end and it was shortly after this point that I got an energy spike and enjoyed a couple of hours of quiet night-time running at a steady pace, reaching Tormarton and shortly afterwards, the M4. That second wind blew over, though, and not even the hint of the sun emerging in the east could stop me from deteriorating with around 20km to go. Overcome with nausea and feeling like I was going to pass out, I sat on a bench outside the Dyrham Park estate, fighting the urge to have a nap. Forcing myself on, the next few miles were hell, but I got a boost of adrenaline at completing the final big climb up to Lansdown and reaching familiar training run territory around Bath Racecourse. The day fittingly ended as it had begun, with a morning mist, the city of Bath hidden below me as I ran past Kelston Roundhill. I dropped into Weston, did the final short climb up to Summerhill, and ran through Victoria Park, past the Royal Crescent, through the Circus and down into town. As the Abbey loomed, I curled up in a ball on the limestone slab that marks the end of the route at 8:15am, delirious with fatigue but ecstatic at getting the job done.