100 Miles on the Pembrokeshire Coastal Path
St Dogmaels to West Dale-ish
Start: Friday 13th June, 12:00 PM
End: Saturday 14th June, 16:17 PM – 28 hours 28 mins
Distance Covered: 81.49 miles
The Setup
Friday the 13th – usually lucky for me. Not this time.
The goal was clear: 100 rugged miles of the Pembrokeshire Coast Path, from St Dogmaels to West Dale. The weather promised variety — and delivered it in full: sun, rain, a dramatic overnight thunderstorm, and a sunrise that felt anything but hopeful.
The Crew
Hel: Planner of all things, queen of logistics (and yes, we saw you sneak that nap at Porth Clais 😄)
Susie: Solo cheer squad and jellyfish hat wearer, always cheering — definitely doesn’t need the megaphone
Support Runners / Lifesavers:
- Sam: 42-mile legend, overnight angel
- Domi: Pacemaker and encourager
- Kiri: Cheese connoisseur and spirit booster
- Tim: Holder of world’s nicest chips and lighthouse comrade
- Karen: Surprise morale bomb
- Dave: Master of mangled feet
- James: Stepped in when descending was impossible
- Matt: Support for Sam and photo poser extraordinaire
- The G Unit: Mike & George – Flag-bearers and gods of pure encouragement
Family:
- Luke (The husband): My rock. Endless support. Surprise appearance at 1am with Tyler and Bleue the dog. Told me not to stop, but also respected my decision. Oh — and brought me a kebab in bed when I couldn’t move.
- Tyler (Teenage Daughter): Hug machine. Made me cry at the start line. Told her mates and teachers about me. Turned up at night with Luke. Best comment: “At least I got a Mr Whippy out of it.”
Telephone Support:
- Emil (my brother): Surprise source of encouragement and disbelief.
- Callum: Called before and after his race (which he smashed and won!). I wish I could remember the gibberish I said to you.
- Trig: Confidence builder, belief bringer, always in my corner.
Nobblers
To the ones I didn’t get to see on the route — I’m sorry I missed you. The messages in the social media groups were incredible. I went back and read every single one. They gave me strength, made me smile, and reminded me that this effort was shared — even from afar.
Miles That Flew
St Dogmaels to Moylegrove
Everyone bolted from the start. I stuck to the plan — hang back, be smart. I was literally the last one running up that first climb. But I felt amazing. Slightly ahead of schedule by Moylegrove.
Moylegrove to Newport
Buzzing. Domi joined in. Felt strong and optimistic. Naively thought the hardest bit was behind me. (Spoiler: it wasn’t.)
Newport to Lower Fishguard
Chats, cheese, good vibes. I felt completely in control.
Lower Fishguard to Pwll Deri
Rain began. Still invincible. Flag-bearing Tim handed over to Sam near the lighthouse, as planned. Spirits were high.
When It All Turned
Porthgain to Whitesands
The weather broke us. Torrential rain, zero visibility, thunder and lightning literally cracking over our heads.
Sam asked if it was dangerous — I said no, just before nature answered with a deafening “YES.”
No shelter. Just keep moving.
I messaged Luke: “My brain is telling me to stop.”
He reminded me: “You don’t want to.”
Feet ruined. Humour gone. First tears came. My brain started whispering lies. But I pressed on.
Whitesands to St Davids
Checked into the CP with a pot of noodles and left in tears. I was falling apart.
Noodles hit the hedge. I hit a low I didn’t know existed.
The wheels? Not just loose — they were falling off.
Deep in the Pain Cave
St Davids to Solva
This bit is a blur. Brain shutting down. Sick. Cramping. Blistered. Wet. Exhausted.
I knew I wasn’t eating or drinking enough, but my body rejected everything.
Reached the Solva CP and said to Sam: “That’s it. I’m done.”
She’d heard it before — but this time I meant it.
The crew rallied.
Food forced in.
Coffee.
Dave worked on my horror-movie feet.
Socks. Shoes. Sent on my way again.
Solva to Newgale
Slower than a snail. I lay down at times. Pain was constant.
But worse than physical pain was the disappointment in myself.
G Unit met me on the trail. All light, no pressure. But my knee gave out.
Couldn’t descend steps without sitting. I didn’t stop crying until I knew it was really over.
The End
Newgale. 81.49 miles. My first DNF.
It didn’t feel how I imagined a DNF would.
There was no shame. Just acceptance.
Reflections
I didn’t fail.
Yes — I didn’t finish the 100 miles.
But I did not fail in showing up.
I did not fail in giving everything.
I did not fail in listening to my body and owning my decision.
Lessons Learned
You don’t grow from what goes right.
You grow from what goes wrong.
I learned more in those dark, cold, emotional hours than I have in any finish-line photo.
Will I Try Again?
Of course.
This isn’t the end. Just a plot twist.
