100-Miler Experience Notes – Part 3: Reflections on logistics, inclusion & what can be improved

When I think back to the ultra endurance events that I’ve done so far, it wasn’t just the miles that tested me — it was the logistics, too. The small details that no one talks about in training plans or gear lists.

There are countless race reports about pacing, fueling, and training. But far fewer mention what it’s like to run an ultra endurance race as a woman — the unseen realities that can make the difference between comfort and frustration, confidence and self-consciousness.

This isn’t a rant. It’s a reflection — and an invitation to keep the conversation going. Because these experiences matter.

The logistics layer – Drop-Bags, rules & realities

Before the race even began, there was the drop-bag puzzle: a 30-litre limit to fit everything I might need across four marathon-length loops — spare layers, nutrition, socks, tape, electrolytes, and, of course, period products (I was towards the end of my luteal phase on race weekend so I wasn’t sure if my period would start during the run).

30 litres sounds like a lot until you actually start packing. Suddenly, it’s a game of trade-offs. Do I take extra food or an extra layer? Can I fit a dry top and spare shoes? It made me realise how much mental energy goes into the logistics before the running even begins.

And then there was the mandatory kit. This list was more of an emergency survival kit — waterproof jacket, hat, gloves, spare base layer, etc. — but we weren’t allowed to wear any of it unless it was a genuine emergency. Starting in two layers didn’t count. It made sense on paper, but in practice it reduced the space in my running vest a whole lot.

Small things stood out. Elites had a finisher bag waiting for them; the rest of us didn’t. It’s not about jealousy — it’s about fairness.

Also, there weren’t any marshalls when we had to cross the roads including a dual carriage way!

None of these things ruined the race. There were many things that were fantastic about this 100-miler like the volunteers, for example.

I simply would love to see race organiser to consider how endurance events could be more inclusive, practical, and fair.

The female perspective – Privacy, safety & periods

Then there’s the reality of being a woman on the start line.

I get it. We’re still the minority in these sports event. At this race only ~15% of all participants were women! There was no designated changing area unless I wanted to hobble across the hall at the headquarters and find the disabled toilet which was recommended to us as it was big enough for us to change in there. With all due respect: Excuse me? Why is it so difficult to get a simple room divider which costs ~ £50 where women can get changed behind in the same hall as men without needing to wander around and queue!?

In case you’re not familiar with ultra endurance challenges: you will need to change clothing for many reasons: to avoid chafing because of the sweat, to stay warm, etc.

Now here’s why I’m quite emotional about it:

When I got back to the headquarters, I needed to change my shirt - ideally also my bra - because I was sweating a lot. I still have a few scars from past ultras where I got serious chafing wounds so it was paramount to get into dry clothing. I was the only woman in there with a few other men. I squatted down to avoid standing in the middle of the room which was painful enough after running more than a marathon and started to pull my shirt over my head - realising that the man next to me was starring at me whilst I got changed - the whole time. It’s so unnecessary. It’s just so unnecessary.

I can only speak for myself. During an ultra I feel strong, resilient, unstoppable, and also very vulnerable. It strips you down of everything, you’re in pain, agony, so no: I don’t feel confident or comfortable in getting changed before others. Also, I certainly didn’t change my sports bra in there!

Again, a simple, cheap room divider would make a HUGE difference - and maybe it would also mean that more women sign up for an ultra endurance event.

And then there’s menstrual logistics. We plan our fueling, pacing, and sleep schedules — but cycles don’t always care about race calendars. I came prepared, but it still requires extra thought, space, and supplies. These are things rarely discussed, yet they can make or break comfort levels on race day.

Running through the night also carries a different weight. There’s a beauty to it — stars above, silence all around — but also a sense of vulnerability. We were allowed to have one pacer on the last leg (the last 26 miles of the 100-mile race). They weren’t there just to pace us; they’re about safety and a peace of mind. I didn’t make it to the 4th leg this time. But I certainly spent many hour on my own in the dark. Because I didn’t have a pacer, in all honesty, I was scared to run on my own through Reading town centre on a Saturday / Sunday night.

Just as an idea: It would have been amazing to have a portal or online group chat from the organisers where people could ask and arrange for pacers. It’s really not a big deal and would make a HUGE difference.

All in all, I met incredible women and men out there who shared a smile laugh, a high-five, and some trail wisdom. That camaraderie is one of my favourite parts of the sport. We look out for each other.

What could be improved

This isn’t about criticising organisers — they put heart and hard work into these events. It’s about refining the experience for future runners.

A few small, meaningful improvements could go a long way:

• Private changing tents or curtained areas for women at checkpoints.

• Clear guidance for female runners in the race pack — simple notes on hygiene and privacy considerations: will period products be provided at checkpoints?

• Equal drop-bag and finisher bag access for all participants.

• A review of mandatory kit rules — balancing safety with practicality.

• Night-safety discussions in pre-race briefings, especially around pacing, lighting, and support options.

Small changes like these don’t just make races smoother; they make them more inclusive.

Reflection – Why these conversations matter

Running ultra marathons teaches you about resilience, yes — but also about adaptation. You learn to stay flexible, to problem-solve on the move, to laugh at the absurdity of changing clothes under a headtorch in the rain - yes, I had to do that after around 50 miles in.

But it also teaches you where systems could evolve. Because the more we talk about these things, the better the experience becomes for everyone — not just women, but every runner trying to find their rhythm out there.