Since the 200-mile race in December, my motivation had been… missing. Not misplaced. Not gently dozing. Gone. Training happened, but not with the spark I was used to.

This was not just a race. It was a pilgrimage into the depths of self - a quiet celebration of resilience and an ode to the wild places still left inside us.

Storm Antoni had become part of my journey, an unexpected companion that had forged an unbreakable bond between me and the trail.

Running long distances transcends psychological boundaries and the further we reach inwardly, the farther we can run outwardly.

Compared to the miles on the South Downs Way, these were a lot tougher. It is without doubt the hardest thing I have ever done.

Trail running was for me a way to step outside of this construct that we have created and tap into something primal and real.

I know... most people do not even like to drive that far, but here we are. When can we do it again?

To be trapped in time is the compulsion to live almost exclusively through memory and anticipation. All we have is now.

I run because running it by its very nature creates an exceptionally rich setting for focusing on the present moment.

Having spent an extraordinary amount of time in solitude lately, I have been chasing a higher level of cerebral thought.