This weekend, the Chester 50 Mile ultra kicks off the GB Ultras season, and there’s something about that first ultra race back that feels heavier than the distance itself.

Chester isn’t the biggest race on the calendar. It isn’t the longest. But as the season opener, it carries weight.

It’s the moment winter training stops being theory. The early alarms, the dark long runs, the “base miles”, they all get tested the second you pin a bib on and stand shoulder to shoulder on that start line.

I’ve learned over the years that the first ultra of the season isn’t about chasing a time. It’s about finding out where you really are…

And Chester has a way of showing you.

The Return of the Nerves (Even When You’ve Done This Before)

You’d think that after multiple ultras, the nerves would disappear. They don’t. They just change shape. Before my first ultra ever, the nerves were loud: “Can I actually do this?”, “What if I don’t finish?”.

Now, the nerves are quieter, but still there: “Did I do enough over winter?”, “Is my race plan realistic?”, “Have I completely forgotten how hard 50 miles actually is?”.

The first race of the season has a way of exposing all the little doubts you’ve successfully ignored during training.

And that’s normal.

If you’re new, nerves mean you care.

If you’re experienced, nerves mean you respect the distance.

Either way, they belong there.

You Forget What Racing Actually Feels Like

Training is controlled. You pick the route. You stop when you want. You bail if the weathers horrific.

Race day? Not so much.

The first ultra of the season reminds you that:

• Aid stations / check points are chaotic and brilliant.
• Your watch will beep constantly.
• Everyone else looks suspiciously fit.
• And 50 miles is… still 50 miles.

Every year, I convince myself I remember what it feels like.

Every year, around mile 28, I realise I didn’t.

The Winter Illusion

Winter training builds fitness, but it also builds comfort. You get used to solo runs. Your own pace. Your own headspace.

The first ultra of the season throws you back into:

• Crowds
• Comparison
• Adrenaline
• Slightly questionable pre-race decisions

(Why do we always second-guess kit choices at 5:30am, when gathered at the start line?)

For experienced runners, it’s a reset.

For first-timers, it can be a sensory overload.

Either way, it’s part of the re-entry process.

The Ego Check

There’s something humbling about the first ultra of the season.

Your body might be fit. Your Strava stats might look solid over the training months. Your long runs might have gone perfectly.

But racing has its own personality.

The first race back will remind you:

• Fitness isn’t everything.
• Pacing matters.
• Nutrition matters more than you think.
• And the second half of an ultra is still twice as hard.

It’s not a failure if it feels harder than expected.

It’s a recalibration.

Why It Matters (For First-Timers and Veterans)

If this is your first ultra. Remember. You don’t need to prove anything. You don’t need to run perfectly. You just need to keep moving forward.

If this is your tenth. You know what to do. You need to listen, adapt, and respect the distance.

The first race of the season is about reconnecting with:

• The rhythm of race day
• The community
• The version of yourself that chooses hard things on purpose

The Quiet Moment Before the Countdown

There’s always a moment before the start. When the chatter fades slightly. When everyone looks straight ahead, to the sky or to the floor to picture the journey ahead. When you realise you’ve signed up to run all day… voluntarily.

That moment is why the first ultra of the season hits differently.

For most, it’s not about splits or finish times. It’s about stepping back into something that challenges you. And remembering that you’re capable of more than comfort.

The first ultra of the season is rarely perfect. It might feel rusty. It might feel amazing. It might feel like a gentle reminder that ultras are never “easy.”

But it’s important. Because it marks the return. To long miles. To shared suffering. To the start line feeling that never quite goes away, no matter how many times you stand there.

And honestly? I wouldn’t want it to.

Good luck to everyone of you who toe the start line at Chester 50 for your first ultra of the season! I will be on the other side this year supporting you, looking after you, and guiding you to that finish line.