The Salomon Serpent Trail 50k took place on the 4th of July 2021. The route ran entirely inside the South Downs National Park, from just outside Petworth in West Sussex to Petersfield in Hampshire. With approximately 700m of climbing and 760m of descent, it was billed as a relatively flat, fast race, ideal for PB smashing, along some of the most beautiful trails to be found anywhere in the South East.

I had been wanting to run the Serpent Trail for some time, ever since I first heard about its inaugural run in 2017. I wasn’t yet up to ultramarathon distances back then; travelling and COVID-19 prevented me from entering the race until this year. Looking at the results from previous years, I fancied my chances at potentially scoring a place in the top 10, or at the very least quite easily besting my previous PB of 4:38:28, acquired on a much hillier course in Rotorua, New Zealand. As it would turn out, this particular serpent had a sting in its tail. Or, something.

The race

After catching a train down from London and camping at Petersfield Rugby Club the night before, I bid farewell to Emily (who was running the half marathon) and boarded a bus to the start line at 9AM. The relatively late start did mess with my head a little bit, as I was unsure whether to eat or stick to my usual strategy of starting on an empty stomach. I opted for the latter, but by the time we finally got to the start line at around 9:45, I was starting to think a bit of porridge or some boiled eggs would’ve gone down quite nicely.

Hopping off the bus, we checked in with our dibbers and lined up at the starting line in a nondescript field. Tom, the race director, called out some instructions from atop a 4×4. Eyeing up the competition, I quickly came to the conclusion that top 10 was probably off the cards, as there were some seriously speedy-looking guys milling about. Regardless, there was still a PB on the cards, and I was looking forward to the experience of a 50k feeling like a ‘short’ race, given my recent focus on 50 milers.

As if on cue, the heavens opened as the count down began, and before anyone had time to worry about waterproofs, we were off. Having not run a mass-start event since pre-COVID times, it was difficult not to get caught up in the rush, but I soon managed to settle in to what felt comfortable for a 50k effort, at around 5:15 per kilometre.

Within a few minutes, it became clear that the dry, runnable trails I had been expecting were in quite a different state this year. Due to the near-constant rainfall that’s been ravaging the UK these past few weeks, there was plenty of mud out on the trails. Whilst this didn’t necessarily slow me down, the extra effort required to leap over or skirt around these patches definitely took their toll on me later on in the race.

Aside from this, though, the race was frankly stunning. An ideal mix of single track, wide forest roads, the occasional quiet country lane, and stunning areas of open heathland with beautiful views of the South Downs. Despite taking in a moderate amount of elevation, the race was runnable from start to finish, and I really enjoyed the ‘flow’ that the course allowed.

I soon settled into a rhythm towards the back of a group of guys who felt like they were going just ever so slightly faster than I was comfortable with. I probably should have listened to this gut feeling, but I was also keen to push myself and see if I could actually ‘race’ a 50k. We cruised through the first checkpoint together at kilometre 11, only one or two of us actually stopping to replenish supplies. Knowing that I had enough water to see me through to the next one at around the half marathon mark, I carried on, and even ended up taking the lead for a while.

With the race well and truly under way, I tried my best to hold back and keep things nice and easy. The trail was truly a dream to run on. It constantly took the ‘road less travelled’, never joining the wider trails but crossing over them and through the foliage. On many stretches I couldn’t help but mutter ‘Wow!’ under my breath – it was like it was designed for trail runners, not hikers.

As we neared the 22km checkpoint I was alerted to the fact that one of our pack – Tristan Stephenson – was in fact not running the 50k but the 100k race, and was in first place. I asked his pacer how it was going, and he said they had a 45-minute lead on second place! It was truly thrilling to run alongside him for a few miles, as he was so clearly in the zone and pacing it beautifully.

I stopped at the second aid station to refill a water bottle and down a cup of coke, but I was out of there within about 30 seconds. I felt really good at this point – probably too good. For some reason I got it in my head that now was a good time to push, and I definitely took the next few kilometres a bit faster than I should have. I was enjoying running alone for the first time in the race, though, and I reflected on the fact that I should strive in future races to stick to my own pace and not get caught up with what others are doing.

The trail continued to zig-zag its way towards Petersfield. Atop some of the hills we were treated to some truly epic patches of bog, some of which were ankle-deep and basically unavoidable. I caught up with the third place lady and hung behind her for a while before pushing ahead, the magnetic pull of the halfway point drawing me onwards.

By the time I reached the Midhurst checkpoint at 32km I was definitely starting to feel fatigued, and aware that the next 18km were going to be harder than I had anticipated. The volunteers across the race were fantastic, but at this particular aid station they were going all out, ringing bells every time a runner left and wooping and hollering cries of support. This definitely raised my spirits and I was able to pick up the pace a bit as I left.

I caught up with Loyd Purvis from Run 4 Adventure, who came 2nd at the Serpent Trail 50k in 2019. He’d had a cracking start to the race but looked to be struggling a bit. I mentioned that I liked his YouTube channel, and as if on cue he started vlogging soon after I overtook him. I have no idea how he was able to be so chipper and clear on camera despite the conditions!

Soon after the aid station the Serpent Trail reaches a short but quite dramatic climb up a deforested hillside. The trail goes beneath a series of electricity pylons, and I couldn’t help but be reminded of the famous ‘Rat Jaw’ climb from the Barkley Marathons. Though nowhere near as severe, it was definitely an intimidating sight on tired legs, but I was able to climb it at a good pace nevertheless.

Something I’ve noticed in all my recent ultras is that, when the trail hits any kind of sustained incline, I am able to overtake people quite reliably. But on the flats and downhills, those same people will often catch me again. This might have something to do with the fact that I’ve spent a lot of my workouts targeting hills specifically, or it might just be that, as a lean person, my power-to-weight ratio means that I have less work to do on the hills than someone who is a bit stockier.

From this climb to the end the trail gradually grew less remarkable, unfortunately, and as I caught up with the back of the half marathon the route became entirely on tarmac for around 4 kilometres before linking together a number of featureless fields. Had I been feeling fresher, I probably would have relished in the fact that we were being treated to such runnable terrain and able to make up time. As it happened, I was really struggling to keep the pace up, and this section of the race felt like it took forever to crawl by.

Thankfully, I was not alone, and I managed both to hold off any 50k runners from catching up with me. I even caught a couple of runners up ahead who were faring much worse. At no point did I slow to a walk, though I did get stuck behind some half marathon runners a few time on some narrower stretches of trail.

I skipped the penultimate aid station, knowing that no amount of coke or fruit was going to do much to lift my spirits at this point. I did force myself to keep eating gels, and although I didn’t care much for the sweetness, they didn’t cause me any gastrointestinal issues, and I did notice that they were doing something to prevent me from slowing to a halt.

As the race neared its end, I felt a conundrum brewing in the back of my mind. Despite my slowed pace, a PB was still on the cards, but it was going to require pushing right to the very end. As I sit here now, it’s obvious that one should fight tooth and claw for such moments of glory, but at the time, all I wanted to do was find a good excuse to walk it in.

I kept thinking I had spotted Emily up ahead in the half marathon, but this was probably wishful thinking. If I had seen her, the temptation to ease off, let my PB go, and run it in together would have been huge. But she had run a good race, and I never caught her.

Instead, I was left with my achey quads and a winging inner voice, whining, “Do we have to?!”

Well, unfortunately, yes. We do. Let’s go.

I stopped for a cup of squash at the final aid station, with just 4km to go, and did my best to press on at a reasonable pace. I have to say that, for all the achiness and fatigue, I was also quite pleased with how I fared in this final stretch of the race. It would have been so easy to throw in the towel and walk it in, but I’ve had enough running experience now to know the value of keeping that fire lit as long as possible, even if it’s only a flicker.

Before I knew it, I was in Petersfield, and approaching the final trail stretch through Rotherlands Nature Reserve. Supporters were out in droves – as they were all day on the course – and it was lovely to be cheered and encouraged on the home stretch.

As we entered Rotherlands, I glanced at my watch, and calculated that I would have to run the final kilometre at or below 5-minute pace to score a PB. On any other day, this would not be a big ask, but it took a huge amount of willpower to silence the internal whinging and pick up the pace. The trail seemed to go on forever, and as frantically I streamed past a number of half marathon runners I thought it wasn’t going to end. But then I heard the glorious ringing of bells from the finish line, and I burst from the foliage and out onto the grass at Petersfield Rugby Club. I spotted Emily cheering by the finish line, and as I crossed the line I stopped my watch at 4:37:01, in 27th place over all, 19th MSEN.

Due to the dibbing system, my official race time was around 4:37:14, but either way I had secured a PB by just over a minute. Spread out over the course of 50 kilometres, this amounts to just over a second per kilometre faster than my previous PB. If that’s not close, I don’t know what is!

Closing thoughts

I genuinely don’t recall ever feeling so broken after a race, with the exception perhaps of my first marathon. At first I thought this was largely a bad thing – a sign that I had run too hard early in the race, and as a result had to push myself to the extreme in order to secure a PB. I definitely could have paced it better, but overall, a few days out, I am really happy with the experience I had at the Serpent Trail.

Every race is a chance to learn something, and in this race I learnt that what I had previously thought of as ‘pushing it’ was, in fact, nowhere near the limit. I learnt to override that internal system which was trying to convince me that I couldn’t possibly run faster on such tired legs. Had I paced the first half better, I think I could have pushed this even further, and I really look forward to utilising this knowledge at races in future.

In terms of the event itself, I would definitely recommend the Serpent Trail. Whether it’s your first ultra or your 50th, it’s a stunning route that has plenty of PB potential. The course was well signposted despite being very twisty, and I only had to consciously look around to figure out where to go once or twice. I will definitely be running the 50k next year and aiming for a sub-4:30 time, and I’m considering it for my first 100k in 2023.