There are a number of interviews with entrants of the 100 at https://www.julianwhite.uk/ldwa-100/ with more coming, but I thought that I’d summarise some of the interviews that have been received so far. And add my own commentary of my 100 in 2021 which I of course hardly mention…..
There are many reassuring things about the LDWA 100 such as Richard at the registration desk fending off a crisis, supportive volunteers along the route and a few sore feet. The entrants that I’ve spoken to already at the 2026 Hunnypot Hundred in Kent have already produced a splendid collection of optimism, experience, mild alarm and food-based strategising. I think it’s fair to say that a reasonable number of entrants are at this stage wondering what they’ve let themselves in for, but this is a big thing to do and it’s good to be prepared.
Mira Nair is approaching it with the correct level of determination, saying that “my mindedness is as bloody as ever”, which is perhaps the most useful quality to possess when the event involves 100 miles, hills and the inevitable moment when the human body asks whether a shorter hobby might have been available. Ercole Lugari, taking on his first LDWA 100, is looking forward to the “unique atmosphere” of the Hundreds and seeing the Kent countryside, while Mark Pennington offers the wonderfully realistic answer that he is most looking forward to “Saturday and Monday”, which does at least have the advantage of leaving out most of Sunday which is something of a sub-optimal day for many entrants.
A strong theme running through the interviews is that entrants are not simply looking forward to completing a route, but to being part of the intriguing village, if I may refer to LDWA groups in that way, that forms around the 100. Sab describes the event as his “annual pilgrimage”, with the camaraderie, new friends, marshals and the chance to see another part of the country all pulling him back.
Phoenyx Harritt, taking on their first Hundred, is looking forward to Pooh Sticks on Pooh Bridge, Ashdown Forest and “the camaraderie of the shared achievement”, while Graham Sherwood is anticipating “shared adversity and pain, and hopefully a few laughs”, which is a beautifully LDWA sentence because it manages to make discomfort sound like a perfectly legitimate social activity. Actually, don’t quote me on this as I’m the national LDWA comms officer, but this is perhaps why the LDWA has never needed a comms department in the conventional sense, the product rather proudly advertises itself as uncomfortable and people still keep signing up merrily.
This reminds me of when I asked Jayne Cook, one of the heroic Norfolk & Suffolk entrants, how much of the challenge walk 100 that she actually enjoys. Her response a couple of years ago was “you’re not supposed to enjoy it, it’s a challenge”, but I know she secretly loves every moment.
Simon Hodgin, having supported the marshal’s event, thinks entrants will especially enjoy the last 100 metres, before generously conceding that there is also plenty to enjoy before then, especially anything in daylight. But he’ll have to be careful not to let his mind wander too much with his thoughts of entering one of the Spine races….. And I wonder whether Chelle, who completed her twentieth LDWA 100 this year at the marshals’ event will be back next year. She says not, but I think in early 2027 we’ll see her studying the route with a suspiciously interested look in her eye.
The route itself is also getting plenty of attention, not least because this year appears to contain more hills than some recent Hundreds, which may come as unwelcome news to anyone who had mentally filed Kent under “gentle orchards and nice tea rooms” which is what I had perhaps done. But, I mentally block out hills, they’re bad for the mind (well, and calves, morale and general happiness, but I’m from Norfolk and we’re not hill trained). David Morgan, who has walked, marshalled and organised more 100s than most people have owned pairs of walking socks, says the route feels surprisingly rural given its proximity to London, with the North Downs particularly pretty, although he also warns that the steepest rises come in the final third and that entrants should not go too hard too soon. I think that piece of advice is one of the most sensible, this is not an easy 100, although I accept that none of them actually are.
Rebecca Lawrence, who has started 15 Hundreds and completed 11, says Hunnypot feels special because she loves trees and the area is full of them, while Enfys Bosworth is looking forward to a hillier route after last year’s flatter event, as well as the community and a healthy bit of FOMO. Jane Bates, meanwhile, offers a useful reminder from the back of the field which it is not about speed, it is about doing what is needed to finish within 48 hours, even if that includes accepting a second night and perhaps a cheeky little power nap. And, it really isn’t about speed, this isn’t a race but a personal journey. Quite a long personal journey, but there we go.
And then, inevitably, there is food, which is perhaps my favourite topic which might not mark me out as an elite endurance athlete, but it does make me unusually well suited to checkpoint-based commentary. I was delighted to become an official food tester at the marshals’ event, but that’s not the first time I’ve selflessly taken on that role. No civilised discussion of the LDWA 100 can avoid food, because after enough miles catering stops being a practical matter and becomes a branch of moral philosophy.
Mira is hoping for mac and cheese, homemade flapjacks or cake, crumpets, pizza and little yoghurts. Ercole gives perhaps the purest answer of all “tea and cake” because a cup of tea always makes things better, or a 15% stout, whatever suits the individual’s mindset. Mark looks forward to cereal, rice pudding and tea in the small hours, while David praises crumpet with tomato purée and melted cheese, plus homemade dhal and naan breads. Enfys looks forward to macaroni cheese, fish finger butties, fresh fruit and sandwiches, and Phoenyx is making a beeline for cola while avoiding anything spicy, which seems sensible when one’s digestive system is already being invited into several days of negotiation.
The food answers also reveal the deep tactical wisdom that only long-distance walking can produce. Sab finds melon and orange easier to eat when other food becomes difficult, with peanuts and crisps working well too, though bread sandwiches become hard to face after about 70 miles. Jane is clear that food is key, warning that not eating enough early on can cause problems later, and says that anything homemade is what she really looks forward to. I think this is a good point, nutrition is hugely important although I accept that if I ran the event every checkpoint would just have pies.
Graham needs plenty of salty food and stresses the importance of eating at every checkpoint before nausea makes it harder. I remember on my 100 that I sometimes genuinely didn’t want food and was bemused why my body didn’t crave more, but eating is important. Rebecca’s advice is equally direct which is to eat and drink as much as needed, take rehydration salts and, perhaps most importantly, do not go into any pubs en route until the end. This is a cruel rule, but probably a necessary one, particularly for those of us who regard pubs as cultural institutions. There are few downsides to pubs in my eyes, but they are quite hard to leave after seventy miles and especially if they have delicious real ale, craft beer, Mini Cheddars and comfortable chairs.
What comes through most strongly is that the Hunnypot Hundred is not just a test of walking fitness. It is a test of judgement, humour, appetite, patience and the ability to treat each checkpoint as both salvation and a time-management threat. People are looking forward to the scenery, the trees, the hills, the company, the daylight, the finish, the conversations, the little acts of kindness and, quite reasonably, the food. There will be tough moments, of course. There will be sore feet, late hills, odd thoughts in the night, perhaps hallucinations and probably at least one personal conversation with a cheese crumpet.
But if these interviews show anything, it is that the LDWA 100 has a strange ability to turn discomfort into memory, strangers into companions and a very long walk into something people somehow want to do again. Which is either inspiring or medically fascinating, and possibly both. Most of all it’ll be fun, well, looking back, it’ll seem like fun and that’s the main thing.
