Nove Colli Run, round 2

So here we are again, a few weeks have passed since crossing the finish line at Nove Colli Run (NCR) for the second time and it's time to reflect: what happened, what went well, what didn't and what's next.

Dawn - always an encouraging moment in any ultra marathon.

Why Nove Colli Run? Nove Colli is one of only a handful of European road ultras over 100 miles that the Badwater 135 committee accepts as a qualifying performance. When I crossed the finish line in 2024 I was elated to complete it - it was my first 200 km race - but I was also slightly downbeat. I knew that I wasn't ready for Badwater 135. I'd completed the race - that was the requirement - but I knew something that wasn't reflected by the result: it was not a performance I could, hand on heart, say showed me being ready for Badwater 135.

My training has gone well. Fletch (my coach), like some kind of wizard, has transformed my training. Apart from a week taken out recovering from the lurgy I had a perfect build up - not just my fitness, but my back too. I feel nervous even writing this, but I feel I've taken a leap forward here (blog on Joel coming). Stick to the plan, Ben, and let's protect and strengthen my back further.

I'd convinced Graham and Nick to come along to the NCR; they had taken the extreme but slightly more sensible 85 km, or Quattro Colli, option. It was nice hanging out in Cesenatico with them ahead of the race. They had a slightly different pre race fuelling strategy to me: wine and grappa versus water and Tailwind.

It was warm on race day, not hot, but into the mid twenties. The race starts at midday. It's slightly chaotic; as the only Brit in the race there is little need for any announcements to be anything but Italian - my Italian is limited, very. There's a great buzz at the start, about 150 runners limbering up for the challenge - plenty of colour and personality.

The race starts with a flat 22 km pace limited section, then there is a restart before the first hill. In practice the restart happens within a few minutes of arriving at the first aid station. I felt good and was right up next to the bike pacer through this section. The first hiccup was an aid station not where it was meant to be. No big deal, but it did make me wonder if I'd made a mistake on my race notes - a quick message to my remote crew to check, all matched the website.

Nick and I left for the first hill together. Graham was just behind, sorting some kit at the aid station. Somewhere up the first climb Nick slipped back and I was on my own. Up and over hill one and into the first descent - this was the test. Had the downhill intervals worked their magic? Yes, I flew down and felt great. But then...

It was sunny, I'd been pushing the pace and it was catching up with me. My stomach was in knots and I wasn't able to drink anything. This wasn't good. I was about 30 km in, 170 km to go, and was struggling to hydrate. I kept going, thinking through how to unravel this. How to fix it? It was a long section before the next hill, and I wasn't doing too well; doubt crept in. Then the next aid station - but it wasn't there. Clearly marked on the plan as "Pond" - I was at what must have been the pond and nothing. My bottles were empty. By this time I'd worked out the issue, or thought I had: I was mixing my Tailwind too concentrated - in the heat this was too much and I wasn't digesting it. I now knew the issue, but there was no water to solve it. Five km later... an aid station.

Bottles refilled, plus an extra handheld - I would sort myself on this steep climb, take the climb to recover and regroup. By the time I got to the top I was feeling like I was back in the game. Off the top and down again. My legs felt good - another descent and my legs were fine; that was not the case last year.

Climbs came and went, I was marching through the miles, feeling strong, well ahead of the time cut offs. I was pressured by the cut offs last year; this year I was well ahead - it felt great.

I went up and summited the fourth climb - this would be Nick and Graham's finish line. Lucky them, I thought. A quick sort out with my drop bag and into the night. It was an uneventful night; I just ploughed on through the race, fuelling, hydrating and generally making solid headway. I followed a runner, my watch beeped, I was off course. I turned back and kicked myself for the additional 500 m of running uphill. I messaged the race organisers to let them know a runner was further up the road and off course. Helping them back on track reminded me that Badwater values runners who look out for each other as much as those who chase splits.

Morning came; I had the distinct feeling that I knew where I was from last year. The difference was that it was daybreak and I was a lot further along the course - positive and encouraging.

The course split: to the right a small road, to the left the main road - a single piece of tape attached to the sign in the middle, useful. My watch said go right but my head was saying go left. Another runner, Ana, came along behind me; she hesitated too - we went right. About 5 km down the road I hit a dead end sign. A farmer waved us along and said to go down a path; this seemed wrong. Ana was a bit behind me; when she caught up we called the race organisers. Within a minute a marshal car was whizzing up with lights flashing - we were 5 km off course. F***. They scooped us up and drove us back to where we left the course. No time to dwell - what's an extra 5 km in 200 km?

Back on route and into the swing of things. A message to Nick and Graham to see how close they were; yet another missing aid station and I needed water. They replied that they were enjoying breakfast at the hotel. Don't blame them - they didn't get back until the early hours. A few more km and I was at an aid station, the top of the last climb. It was all downhill from here. About 30 km to go, a bit undulating and then off the hill and flat into the finish. This final descent and my legs were really starting to make their hatred of the descent known - shut up legs.

Nick and Graham came past in their car, big smiles and cheers - great to see friendly faces. They leapfrogged me for a bit as I continued to the finish line.

I was on the outskirts of town, making good headway. Jebby was on WhatsApp; he'd been watching a few runners on the tracker take a wrong turn as they came into town - he guided me in, all good. As always my remote crew were invaluable, offering equal parts banter based distraction through to specifics on the race and my progress. Badwater is a crewed race, and this remote team has already shown they can keep me on course even from 1,000 miles away.

Delilah called me. Last year she wanted a PIN code; this year just encouragement. I cracked. You never know when it's going to happen, but in the pointy end of an ultra I always have a moment, emotion gets the better of me and I realise I'm going to finish it.

I rounded the corner and down the seafront. I knew what was coming - sand. Down the seafront, high fives to Nick and Graham, turn right, hit the beach and then the final 800 m on sand, brutal, but at least I was expecting it this year. I crossed the line. Mario, the race director, was there to greet me, as were Nick and Graham. I'd done it. Excluding the extra 5 km I'd taken nearly four hours off my time from last year; the time was one thing, but the way I raced was another.

Well done to Nick and Graham, whilst the 85km can seem insignificant compared to the 200km - make no mistake, it’s a proper run. The attrition rate is high, so a massive closed-fist-hug to those two legends for completing the Quattro Colli.

I crossed the line and felt it and I feel it now - I was ready. That was a performance that answered the question: am I ready for Badwater 135? I believe I am.

So what is next? Well, getting into Badwater 135 is more than physical readiness - it's the complete story. I've ticked off all the physical running requirements and then some; what I need to work on now is the complete package, the complete Badwater 135 competitor.

I'm excited, nervous, but ready to do this.

Ben, Graham and Nick.. all smiles before we started.