CNWL East of England Gambling Service’s 100km Walk: A story of perseverance and support

Dr Steph Uprichard, Consultant Clinical Psychologist and Clinical Lead, East of England Gambling Service reflects on why taking on a 100km challenge with the right team makes all the difference—especially when that team is as resilient and supportive as hers.

"I hope you will indulge me some philosophical reflections on having completed the Thames Path Ultra Challenge.  100km of nonstop walking (taking me 28 hours and 32 mins in total) can only be described as a feat of endurance. To say it was tough does not do it justice and it was only a day or so after I had finished, when I started looking back at the photos, that I began to appreciate how much I have taken from this experience. Most importantly though, I don’t believe that I would have finished if I hadn’t been walking with my teammates.  With hindsight I realised that there are no better people to walk with than people who are experts in overcoming adversity.

Connecting our work supporting gambling harm to the challenge

As a team, the East of England Gambling service works to support people impacted by gambling harms, those who gamble and those whose loved-ones gamble. We see people in the throes of an addictive behaviour, and those who are devastated by the impact that their (or their loved one’s) addictive behaviour has caused them. During the walk I started to realise that so much of the psychological knowledge and practice that we draw on to support the people who access our service, was serving us as we slowly endured this challenge.

Nervous beginnings and early planning

There were times during this walk that were upbeat, and light, and times that were dark, (literally and figuratively). The walk started full of nervousness. Questions about our ability to complete crossed each of our minds. I noticed we all took turns in offering rational responses and reminding ourselves not to think too far ahead, to tackle this ‘problem’ in chunks. Rachel and Andrew were the first to help us make a plan, set a pace to aim for and thinking about the timings of each of our ‘rest-stop’ breaks.

Settling into the rhythm: Enjoying the journey

As we began, we settled into a rhythm and felt excited as we enjoyed the sunrise. At the first stop we realised that some of our plans would need some readjustments as pain, niggles and blisters set in. This meant accepting the help that was available to us – rather than pushing through and later regretting it. During the first half of the day we took in the sights, enjoying the distractions that London brings as we walked down the Thames. Even the unexpected showers were a refreshing change of scenery, and everyone enjoyed laughing at my ridiculous rain poncho (possibly the best thing I now own!)

Facing doubt and physical challenges

But as the day went on and the miles (km) passed us by our energy dropped and the aches and pains started to get comfortable a different challenge settled in. Doubt. “Can I actually do this?” “Is this pain a sign of things getting worse?” “Can I cope?” Hypervigilance to every feeling, every pain caused the doubts to take hold – I could feel the anxiety building and the doubt’s voice growing in confidence as we edged closer to the 50km point.

Using mental strategies to overcome anxiety

Each of us found our own way through this, podcasts, football matches, music, mindfulness. Whatever allowed us to refocus our attention. Rest stops as an opportunity to replenish our energy-levels and stretch out our weary limbs were welcomed, and we discussed how amazing it was that a small break could allow up to get back up and walk – when only a few minutes ago it felt impossible to go any further. This lesson became more and more important as time went on.

The critical 50km mark: Focus and determination

At the 50km mark we struggled. Some of the team had injuries and sought medical care to get patched up. The sun was setting. 50km is a fork in the road for the mind. The obvious options are to focus on the positives, “we are halfway there, it’s a countdown from here on”, or the negatives “How am I going to do that all over again”. We chose neither, and instead followed our plan – look to the next rest stop – that is our focus. We battled our way through this. Focussed on what we needed to, to ready our mind and our bodies to head out into the dark. Changing clothes, a hot meal, more medical attention and off we went again.

Setbacks and acceptance: Rachel’s injury

At 60km Rachel’s injury (which she had been trying to ignore) decided enough was enough and something ‘popped’ she was unable to take another step and made the only choice she could – which was to call it a day. This was so hard for her, and I know how disappointed she feels, but there are lessons for us here. It is so easy for the brain to focus on what we didn’t achieve rather than what she did. We always tell people who access care with us that ‘all or nothing thinking’ can be harmful. Here is the perfect example. Rachel walked 37 miles – quite a lot of those on an injured foot. This is a huge achievement. Just think what she could do without the injury.

Walking through darkness and cold

And so, we were down to three. We soldiered on through the hardest stretch. Walking down a towpath of the Thames in the pitch black – freezing cold with no one else around. We had to dig deep. We walked in silence – each of us going into ourselves. Tiredness had set in. Headtorches led the way, and we had to concentrate to avoid tripping over tree roots. Coordination whilst sleep deprived is not easy!

Adapting mental strategies: Breathing and mindfulness

My plans for distraction (podcasts and audio books) hadn’t worked out. Every time I tried to listen to them, I found it had made it worse for me. I just couldn’t concentrate. I had to change plans. I knew I was ‘spiralling’ into a panic. I wasn’t enjoying the walk and was beginning to fixate on the pain and discomfort I was feeling. So, I went back to basics. The thing I know helps me most; controlled diaphragmatic breathing. In for four through the nose, out for five. I took all thought away from my body, and from worrying about the distance. I focussed on the cold air I could feel on my face, which felt pleasant and grounding. I ran the occasional body scan to remind myself that I actually did feel ok. The aches and pains were not bad, it was the fear of them getting worse that had been taking hold. I stayed in this meditative state for hours. It became an out of body experience.

Reaching 70km: Checking in and staying together

We reached 70km – still in the dark and cold. Each of us doing what we needed to do to get through. Checking in on each other every now and again. Pausing to stretch or just to make sure we were all still together – as we were having to walk single file down the path.

The difficult 77km stop and Hypothermia

Our 77km stop felt important. ¾ done. We had expected to feel excited and were surprised to find that this was one of the worst stops. It was freezing. Suddenly Tanya, who had been doing fine throughout crashed. Once she had sat down waves of nausea and extreme fatigue took over her. The shivering set in. She couldn’t take on much food or fluids. The medical team had seen this before and knew what to do. She was wrapped up in tinfoil blankets, put near warm heaters and offered food. She started to improve and her head was willing to go. Tanya was told she had Hypothermia. She wanted to push on anyway, the medics advised that she should really question her life choices! Tanya wisely chose to listen and called it a day.

The final 22km: Chunking the challenge

This left Andrew and me. Andrew had also been feeling terrible during this stop, waves of nausea, tiredness and cold to his bones. He decided to push on. And off we went again. Those last 22km were so tough. We reminded ourselves to chunk this problem. At first – just to the next stop 11.5km away. We knew that things would start to feel better once the sun came up and that became our first goal.

At the final stop before the end we knew we weren’t going to make the same mistakes. We had a very quick re-fuel and we were off. This was the longest 11.5km of the race. Everything hurt. We barely spoke. Just nudging each other on. Checking in. Leaning into the discomfort because there was no hiding from it; but we knew we were getting this done.

We had to break these last few km into smaller more manageable chunks again. “just a dog walk”, “just a park run”, “we will celebrate at 95km”. Digging Deep – acknowledging the pain but reminding ourselves it would pass. We would soon be stopping, sitting down, taking our shoes off, tending to our painful feet.

Crossing the finish line: Relief and reflection

When we crossed the line there was no triumphant celebration or endorphin rush – there was relief (but mainly just pain!)

Gratitude for team resilience and support

But now, as I sit, comfortable and warm at home and look at the photos, what I mainly feel is gratitude. During this walk with my teammates, I know that each of us had our own struggles and battles, often at different times. I feel so proud of how we all supported each other to get to where our bodies would allow us. 

I am so grateful that I have a team made-up of such resilient and compassionate people.  So much so that Tanya and Rachel continued to message us and cheer us on even after they had to pull out. 

I have learnt so much about what we are capable of.  How digging deep and struggling through adversity can bring us to outcomes we never thought possible.  Staying present and keeping those demons at bay can allow us to achieve much more than we believed.

These are the skills we develop with our clients, through the context of kindness, empathy and compassion and I was so proud that my team helped each other with the same skills as we crossed the line on the 100km Ultra Challenge.

I’m even more grateful that these amazing people are my colleagues.  That they are helping our clients as they overcome their challenges.  I couldn’t wish for better people.

And finally, Andrew pointed out to me that it feels important to remember that throughout this walk we encountered so many people who showed kindness and support to each other along the way. Medics, volunteers, other walkers – even runners who were taking part in a different race clapped us on and encouraged us when we were coming up to end – “you aren’t far now” “keep going” “you have done so well”.  On-top of that the virtual support of friends through messages along the way.  This support really kept us going, helped us feel not alone and not forgotten.  Andrew pointed out how it’s just like at work when people come together and benefit from knowing they aren’t the only ones.  We felt lifted by sharing our struggles with strangers and laughing at our hobbling and comparing pain levels.  In the depth of the struggle, it can be hard to notice or appreciate how much positivity there is in the world – but it was all around us – all the way through.  We just had to remember to notice it!"