ARC PROJECT - Can a 24 hour treadmill run restore your mojo?

In the age of social media you are either on or off.

If you are into running and 'on' then you probably saw the images of 160 runners inside a West London film studio taking part in a non-stop 24 hour treadmill event.

Camino Ultra had one of the 40 teams taking part and we asked the team to reflect upon the wildness.

One thing that the four of them hadn't anticipated was that an event of this nature could be so enriching that there was a real sense that previous insecurities about running had been dusted off and that a warm set of mojo emotions had returned.

How on earth did that happen?

Let's dive into the psyche with the team.

Grateful to AP4 Co-Creator James Taker who kindly shared his thoughts for us on his epic event:

JAMES TAKER:

‘The Treadmill Factory’ came into our heads a little over a year ago.

We started trying to plot its existence in December gone. At the time we had no idea about the mountain that stood before us. Attacking it forced us to level up in so many ways. It was like an ultra. It was so hard that in making it happen we realised how capable we are and how far we can go. The long nights, the lows, and the missed family time meant every relationship we had was strained. I personally lost a close family member in the lead up to AP4. At the time I was on a shoot in Italy trying to make enough money to cover the time I spend on Arc Project. Trying to be there for my family whilst on that shoot was near impossible.

I woke up daily with a growing Arc Project to do list that required execution. I was pretty burnt out. Once back on home soil I found myself on the way to a funeral I hadn’t yet processed. I remember having a back and forth with a journalist on my phone during the procession. When you work so hard on things you start to make stupid decisions. You start to justify pushing on by saying, ‘I’ve worked this hard, I can’t stop now’. Looking back I should probably have thrown my phone out the window, but the reason we work so hard is because we believe in the power of what we do. We know that we can change people’s lives for the better. Show them what being alive feels like. Show them that they can do anything they put their minds to.

I met David (Mr Camino) during London Marathon week last year. He showed us kindness and gave us time when very few people were interested. Now the opposite is true, it’s people like David that we’ll always have time for. Kind people at the centre of community that know why we do what we do and want to support us in doing so. Arc Project was built on kindness and it will continue to thrive with those same early people backing it. To more ultras, harder times and reaching our potential.

James, Co-Founder of Arc Project alongside Hamish Myers and Sonni Dyson.

So Fresh....and Oh so Clean x Laura, Frank, David & Capt Ali x

LAURA WATTS:

The Invitation

Back in April, my amazing ultra-running friend, GB athlete, and Badwater sister, Ali Young, invited me to join her team for the Arc Project AP#4: 

‘The Treadmill Factory’. 

Described as a 24-hour Ultra Marathon on a treadmill in London at the end of May.

Quite simply most distance covered in 24 hours.

Cryptic but intriguing.

Slightly mad but exclusive.

Without hesitation, I replied, “Yes!”

It sounded like an incredible experience.

It was huge honour to be invited onto her team. 

Scouring the internet revealed very little about the Arc Project except that it was going to be experimental, radical and challenging and probably completely bonkers!

The format required two men and two women to qualify. 

Within a few days, the team was complete with two other inspirational members of the running community and friends: David Bone and Frank Bingham.

What a team.

It felt a bit like being a teenager again when the cool older kids invited you to hang out. For the next 24 hours I’d be alongside three friends who were incredible world class athletes I hugely admired, and if I’m honest, I desperately wanted to impress them and certainly not let them down.

Mostly though, I just felt incredibly grateful to be there. Just honoured. 

100 teams applied and 40 were accepted.

Our team was in…. ‘Baseline Pacemakers’. AKA 2D on the factory floor!!!

The Build-Up

We really had very little idea what to expect.

All we knew was that we’d be taking turns to run on a human-powered treadmill for 24 hours, starting at 10am on Saturday 30th May at Neasden Studios in London.

The organisers communicated through an Arc Project WhatsApp group, sending detailed but deliberately mysterious instructions.

The first line read:

“IMPORTANT: AP#4 is not a normal race. 

AP#4 is an experiment. 

Expect it to be uncomfortable. 

You were one of few accepted. 

You are now part of the experiment.”

What on earth was on its way?

Lab Rats?

It was mysteriously barely informative but just managing to be ambiguously captivating.

I loved it.

Occasional text messages were sent to us in the days leading up to the event. T-12, T-8,T-5. There were lots of don’t do this and make sure you do that messages.

There were strict requirements around kit colours, equipment, and what could be brought into the venue. Every detail had clearly been considered.

Dress code: Black. WTF,  was this our funeral!

Bring: A fan, a chair, a sleeping mat, a head torch, and a disposable camera.

The instructions also explained that every metre covered would be powered entirely by human effort using a Woodway LTG Human Powered Treadmill.

This wasn’t a normal treadmill. We checked it out online. What was this contraption?

Research revealed the curved banana shaped design apparently would require more energy than a standard machine. 

We were also warned to prepare for heat, cold, dark, light, loud and quiet.

At the time, none of us really understood what that meant.

I was both terrified and wondering what on earth lay ahead.

The Reality

When we arrived, it felt like we’d become extras in Squid Games, the infamous South Korean Dystopian competition!

Our treadmill number was written on the back of my hand in marker pen. D2 was ours. 

Blanking stickers were placed over the lens of our Phones. 

We were assigned a 2m x 2m square on the perimeter of the factory floor where we’d establish our base camp for the next 24 hours.

Looking back, we brought far too much stuff with us.

In the darkness we unpacked chairs, bags, sleeping mats and supplies. The Arc Project had thoughtfully left Maurten products and cans of Red Bull for every team.

We laid out our nesting and nutrition stuff for what lay ahead.

We had a plan…our race strategy extended only as far as the first hour.

We didn’t have any idea about what was to come.

So Plan A was as follows. Ali would run first, followed by me, then Frank, then David. 

We’d each do 15 minutes and see what happened!

What happened was this:

The Woodway running device was brutal.

Because Ali and I are relatively light runners, we struggled to generate and maintain the momentum needed to keep the treadmill moving efficiently. 

We quickly adapted, switching to 30-minute team blocks where Ali and I alternated every five minutes.

The transitions became slick. The treadmill never stopped. Not Once. We learnt that very quickly.

Meanwhile, the factory floor was alive.

Imagine being on a warehouse floor with a giant TV screen ahead of you taking up the whole wall with hallucinogenic type visuals pulsing. Like an iTunes visuliser with Rave / Trance music belting out. 

The factory floor consisted of 8 treadmills in a row, with 5 rows of treadmills and the small rest areas around the perimeter. 

Our treadmill was the furthest from any fan and positioned beside a concrete pillar with a spotlight aimed directly at us.

The room itself was the size of around 4 tennis courts.

It was very dimly lit at this stage and it was hot. very hot.

With 160 competitors and officials it was a hive of activity.

We were now running on this bizzarre creation.

There was no settling into an easy rhythm. If you wanted the belt to move, you had to drive it yourself.

Power mattered.

A lot.

We were also warned to prepare for heat, cold, dark, light, loud and quiet.

At the time, none of us really understood what that meant.

Eventually, Ali and I found our sweet spot: three-minute intervals.

Three minutes was short enough that we could attack each effort at around 10kph before swapping over and using our break to head the nearest fan to cool down.

Between us, we’ve completed races such as Badwater 135 and Spartathlon, yet here we were barely managing three minutes at a time. Crazy.

It felt like a 24-hour interval session on steroids.

David and Frank settled into longer efforts during their blocks, but every time they stepped off the treadmill they were drenched in sweat and were giving it everything they had.

Outside, we developed a routine.

When off duty, Ali and I would head to the picnic tables, grab some fresh air, use the toilets and briefly escape the intensity inside before returning to the experiment.

We were surprised by how many people were already sleeping. It was only the afternoon! Some lay outside, others curled up in their tiny team camps. 

Later in the afternoon an authentic Italian pizza truck arrived.

We demolished several pizzas.

To aid digestion, we extended our intervals to 45-minute blocks.

The weather was glorious. Warm sunshine gave way to a beautiful balmy evening, and sitting outside for a few precious minutes felt like a holiday before returning to the factory floor torture.

The Night Shift

The first live leaderboard placed us 24th out of 40 teams.

We weren’t concerned.

We were probably the oldest team there by some distance, but we had something many teams didn’t.

1000s of miles of endurance experience and the ability to endure hours on end of sleep deprivation.

The longer the race went on, the more confident I became that we’d come into our own.

And we did.

Hour by hour, we climbed the leaderboard.

One team after another.

Just before midnight, the organisers announced that something “spicy” was about to happen.

Race crew handed out Silva head torches.

At midnight every light in the venue was switched off.

The sight was incredible.

200 head torches floated through the darkness while dance music thundered around the factory.

It felt less like a race and more like an underground rave.

At 1am we decided the boys would take over for an hour while Ali and I attempted some sleep.

Unfortunately, we’d chosen the worst possible hour.

It turned out to be “Light Hour.” Sleep had no chance.

Every light in the building was switched on at full brightness. Runners were given sunglasses. The music somehow became even louder.

I remember thinking that I’d seen Documentaries on Special Forces undergoing interrogation techniques with Lights full bright then Darkness and loud relentless music for 24-48 hours all whilst trying to break your spirit and mind. I felt that there maybe an ex military sicko behind some of this! 

Lying on a mat while the floor vibrated beneath us, wearing an eye mask and surrounded by chaos, sleep was utterly impossible.

When we returned at 2am, we’d reached 100 miles.

David and Frank had done an outstanding job, dragging us up to 13th place.

They staggered back into camp and collapsed.

Ali and I resumed our relentless and effective three-minute rotations.

Eventually we needed a break too The boys were still completely wiped out. We gave them a few extra minutes before reluctantly waking them.

One of Frank’s greatest contributions throughout the race was his meticulous timekeeping. 

His phone became mission control, keeping us organised and ensuring nobody missed a shift.

Even when exhausted, both Frank and David immediately stepped back in whenever needed.

No complaints.

No drama.

Just relentless positivity and teamwork.

It was genuinely inspiring to watch.

The Final Push

At 6am, the music changed down to classical.

Cruelly.

At the exact moment everyone needed energy and motivation, the soundtrack became soothing and reflective.

The sicko strikes again.

We kept pushing.

By now every position gained really mattered.

13th became 12th shortly after 5:30am when we passed 200km.

At 8:30am we moved into 11th.

Now we wanted the top ten.

At 8:45am we were only 1.5km behind the team in tenth.

That’s when everything changed.

We found another gear.

Every effort became harder. Every transition became faster.

The strategy shifted again to 20-minute girl-and-boy blocks.

At 9:10am, with just 50 minutes remaining, the gap was down to 0.4km.

We could smell it.

The final hour became an all-out pursuit.

With 20 minutes to go, everyone emptied the tank.

David and Frank alternated hard efforts. I ran the penultimate minute.

Then Ali—our captain and queen—ran the final minute of the entire experiment.

The Aftermath

We finished 10th out of 40 teams.

248.39 kilometres.

150 miles.

Not bad for a team with a combined age of 205.

What meant even more was hearing comments from other teams about how impressed they had been watching us work together.

Throughout the event I was called a beast, a savage and an animal more times than I can remember.

Normally, those might not be the most flattering descriptions for a 49-year-old female.

The Reflection

What a truly extraordinary experience.

To spend 24 hours sharing an adventure like this with three incredible friends is something I’ll never forget.

It was exhausting.

It was uncomfortable.

It was insane.

It was absolutely epic.

Ali, David and Frank—you are exceptional athletes and friends. Your positivity, grit and endurance are off the scale, and I feel incredibly lucky to have shared this experience with you.

And to the Arc Project: thank you for creating something so unique.

Yes it was bonkers and deliberately so.

There was a letter the organisers had written to each and every one of us to read after the event, some hours later at home.

It was a powerful message which was both thought provoking, subliminal and prophetic.

I’ll never forget this one off unique experience.

It was wild.

It was beautiful.

And it was a journey I’ll remember for a very long time.

FRANKIE:

AP4 – The Experiment Begins

Saturday morning. Just after 8am.

The sun was out, the sky was clear, and thankfully the heatwave that had gripped London all week had

finally backed off. Everyone had been quietly worrying about what 24 hours on non-powered treadmills

would feel like in 30-degree heat.

Luckily, we didn't have to find out.

I had a decision to make: Tube or car?

The thought of dragging myself home on public transport after whatever was about to happen didn't

appeal in the slightest, so I drove.

Truthfully, I didn't really know what to expect.

But wow.

What followed was one of the most unique and memorable 24-hour experiences I've ever been part of.

I arrived just after 8 o'clock and bumped into a few familiar faces in a café around the corner. There was

excitement in the air. Nervous smiles. Curious glances.

Nobody really knew what was coming.

Some people had done ultras. Some had raced for years. But this felt different.

Everyone seemed to be dressed head-to-toe in black, taking the dress code very seriously. Everyone

except me, sat there in a white T-shirt, completely ignoring the brief and living my best life.

There was one guy in the café I didn't recognise. You know the type. Calm. Focused. Quiet. The sort of

stare that says, I'm not here to make up the numbers.

Game face on.

Across the room was Dorina from Camino Ultra and Stolt, looking as effortlessly prepared as ever,

alongside a few members of the Stolt team.

Coffee was consumed. Bananas were eaten. Conversations drifted between excitement and

speculation.

Then it was time.

We made our way around the corner to the venue.

Chapter 1:

Immediately more familiar faces appeared. Runners from across London's running scene. Fast people.

Strong people. Happy people. Marathon runners. Ultra runners. Hyrox athletes. CrossFit athletes.

Every shape, size, age and background imaginable.

That was one of the first things that struck me.

Movement had brought all these people together.

Different stories. Different journeys. Same start line.

And in the middle of it all stood Laura and Ali.

The atmosphere felt electric before we'd even stepped inside.

The venue itself was hidden behind towering black fencing covered in AP4 branding. Nobody could see

what was inside. The mystery only added to the excitement.

Just before we entered, one of the guys from the neighbouring car wash wandered over.

"What's going on here, my friend? Is this a film?"

Without missing a beat, I replied:

"Honestly mate, I think it's a music video."

He nodded approvingly and wandered off to tell his friends.

To be fair, looking around at 150 incredibly fit people dressed entirely in black, it was a believable

answer.

Inside the compound we found a small preparation area. Benches. Bags. Nervous energy.

Then David unveiled something we'd all been waiting months to see.

The new Nowhere Somewhere x Camino Ultra running tanks.

And they were beautiful.

I swapped my white T-shirt immediately.

The perforated fabric. The fit. The simplicity.

Months of conversations, ideas and tweaks brought to life.

Seeing Laura, Ali, David and myself all wearing them together felt special. Those were our colours for

the next 24 hours.

Black, with the Camino logo standing proud.

Chapter 2:

A small thing perhaps.

But a proud moment nonetheless.

Into the Arena

Then we stepped into the arena.

Forty non-powered treadmills lined up beneath a ceiling of lights and projection screens. Dark enough

to feel immersive. Bright enough to feel dramatic.

We found our position:

Row 2. Treadmill D.

A perfect view of what can only be described as an art installation powered by human movement.

Lights surged across the walls. Colours shifted. Shapes galloped across the screens like wild horses.

It felt part endurance event, part underground rave, part science-fiction experiment.

Almost as if the entire building was being powered by the runners inside it.

I've honestly never experienced anything quite like it.

For the next hour we prepared.

Hydration. Nutrition. Camping chairs. Sleeping mats.

The little comforts that suddenly become very important when you're planning to spend an entire day

and night somewhere.

Then, before we knew it, it was time.

The countdown began.

The atmosphere tightened.

The first runner from our team stepped onto the treadmill.

We'd decided on 15-minute rotations to start. A manageable plan.

At least it seemed manageable then.

The clock hit zero.

The treadmills started moving.

3

The lights exploded into life.

The fans roared.

And from that moment on, nothing stopped.

For the next 24 hours, the machine kept turning.

And so did we.

AP4 – Into The Night

A few hours in, it became obvious that everyone was learning on the fly.

Our original plan had been simple:

Start conservatively. Let the excitement burn out around us. Then slowly reel people in.

Looking across the room, though, some teams were changing over far quicker than we were and

running considerably faster.

At least that's how it felt in those early hours.

David and I felt comfortable enough, but I don't think Laura and Ali would mind me saying they were

having to work incredibly hard just to maintain the pace.

Not because they weren't fit enough.

Because these self-propelled treadmills are strange things.

They're a great leveller, but they're not entirely fair.

If you're lighter, you've got less bodyweight helping to drive that belt forward. Meanwhile, some teams

had absolute units on their roster. Men and women built like engines.

Every stride felt like a negotiation with physics.

And fifteen minutes on one of those treadmills could feel like running uphill while somehow going

nowhere at all.

The girls made the sensible call first and shortened their intervals.

David and I stubbornly held onto the fifteen-minute stints for a little while longer.

A few hours later we'd reached exactly the same conclusion.

This wasn't sustainable.

4

So we dropped to ten-minute intervals.

Initially I worried about the reduced recovery time, but pretty quickly it became clear everyone else was

reaching the same conclusion.

Teams that had started with twenty or even thirty-minute efforts were now rotating much faster.

The race wasn't becoming easier.

Everyone was simply adapting.

And adaptation became the game.

The teams doing particularly well seemed to understand this immediately.

The eventual winners, the Salty Boys, were rotating incredibly quickly and maintaining remarkable

consistency.

No heroics.

No drama.

Just relentless efficiency.

The Long Night

As the hours rolled on, the atmosphere became something difficult to describe.

The music was pounding.

Heart rates were high.

Lights flashed across the room.

The DJs took over.

And honestly, the soundtrack alone deserves its own chapter.

It was curated perfectly.

At times it lifted you.

At times it broke you down.

At three in the morning, a relentless bassline could feel like it had been playing for hours, even if it had

only been ten minutes.

5

Then the room would transform.

The lights would disappear.

Head torches on.

Darkness.

Smoke drifting through the air.

Suddenly the place looked less like a sporting event and more like some post-apocalyptic nightclub at

the end of the world.

Then, without warning, every light in the building would come back on at full power.

Bright enough that people were being handed sunglasses.

It felt less like a race and more like an experiment.

Which, I suppose, was exactly the point.

What surprised me most was that nobody quit.

Nobody tapped out.

Not one person.

Maybe it was pride.

Maybe it was stubbornness.

Maybe nobody wanted to be the first person to step away.

Whatever the reason, everyone just kept going.

And there was something beautiful about that.

The faces I'd seen on social media for years. The athletes with the polished profiles. The confident

smiles.

Hour after hour those masks disappeared.

What remained was grit.

Pure grit.

I watched the same focused guy from the café push himself to absolute exhaustion.

I watched teammates rally around one another.

Chapter 6:

I watched people become physically sick and then climb straight back onto the treadmill.

And I watched my own team do exactly the same.

Laura. Ali. David.

Every one of them digging deeper than they probably thought possible.

Nobody wanted to stop.

The music wouldn't let you.

The atmosphere wouldn't let you.

And perhaps most importantly, the people around you wouldn't let you.

Around five or six in the morning the organisers made one of their smartest moves of the entire event.

They turned the music off.

Completely.

Silence.

David and I were sitting in our camping chairs during recovery.

Within minutes we'd fallen asleep.

Properly asleep.

So asleep that we missed our next rotation.

I think it was Ali who eventually came over and woke us up.

We were completely confused.

Disorientated.

No idea what day it was.

But as soon as the music returned, so did we.

Then they got even cleverer.

Instead of playing something energetic, they introduced slow frequencies and binaural soundscapes

designed to calm the nervous system.

To make you sleepy.

Chapter 7:

To make you surrender.

And honestly?

It worked.

The Human Experiment

I felt exhausted.

Everyone did.

Caffeine gels were being consumed. Energy drinks were being hunted down like treasure. People were

bargaining with themselves just to get through the next ten minutes.

Then suddenly everything changed again.

The techno disappeared.

The industrial beats faded.

David Bowie arrived.

Melodies arrived.

Lyrics arrived.

Songs that made people think.

Songs that made people feel.

And for a moment it felt like the whole room collectively exhaled.

The production was extraordinary.

Every detail seemed designed to provoke a reaction.

To test something.

To reveal something.

And that's when I found myself doing what I always end up doing.

Shouting encouragement.

Making noise.

Chapter 8:

Trying to lift people.

Trying to convince them they're capable of more than they think they are.

Because that's the magic of events like this.

The body usually isn't the limiting factor.

The mind is.

Push through the doubt.

Push through the story you're telling yourself.

See what's waiting on the other side.

By this point David knew exactly how my brain worked.

Every now and then he'd casually suggest another team might be getting away from us.

Maybe somebody had found an extra gear.

Maybe somebody was closing the gap.

And immediately my brain would light up.

No chance.

Not today.

ADHD, competitiveness, stubbornness—call it whatever you like.

But it worked.

More Than Distance

What really surprised me was the distances.

I'd convinced myself that the winning teams would be comfortably over 320 kilometres.

Then reality arrived.

These treadmills are brutal.

Far harder than conventional running.

Thirty percent harder, some people suggested.

Chapter 9:

Having spent a day on one, I believe it.

Every metre had to be earned.

Every kilometre demanded something from you.

I've never felt so hungry during an endurance event.

Food disappeared almost as quickly as we could find it.

Yet somehow the room just kept moving.

Hour after hour.

Runner after runner.

And more than anything, I felt proud.

Proud of our team.

Proud of the athletes around us.

Proud of the effort being displayed by complete strangers.

Because endurance has a way of stripping away the surface.

The game face.

The ego.

The image.

Eventually all that's left is character.

And AP4 revealed plenty of that.

When it was finally over, something strange happened.

Nobody seemed particularly interested in the numbers.

Not really.

Of course people looked at the distance.

They looked at the leaderboard.

They looked at the final standings.

But that wasn't what people were talking about.

Chapter 10:

People were talking about the experience.

The feeling.

The fact that we'd all just shared something genuinely unique.

There was a sense of pride throughout the room.

A sense of achievement.

A sense of disbelief.

Did we really just do that?

A Happening

The team behind AP4 have done an incredible job.

I believe this was their fourth event and, from what I understand, each one has been completely

different.

This one, though?

This one is going to take some topping.

Honestly, I think they could have filled a room with one hundred treadmills. Maybe two hundred.

Made the venue bigger.

Added more people.

The atmosphere would have been exactly the same.

Electric.

Immersive.

Completely absorbing.

It wasn't just an event.

It wasn't just a race.

It wasn't even just an experiment.

It felt like a happening.

Chapter 11:

One of those rare moments where a group of strangers agree to suspend reality for a while and fully

commit to an idea.

And somehow it works.

Afterwards, David and I had one of those conversations you have when something has genuinely

exceeded your expectations.

"What did you think of that?"

Normally, David and I have plenty to say.

This time we were both a little lost for words.

Eventually David summed it up perfectly:

"That was amazing."

And honestly, it was.

As I walked back to the car, tired, hungry and carrying far more kit than I'd arrived with, I realised I

wasn't really thinking about the distance we'd covered.

I wasn't thinking about pace.

Or position.

Or where we'd finished.

What stayed with me was the feeling that there was still more in the tank.

That there was another layer somewhere.

Another gear.

Another version of ourselves waiting to be discovered.

The question that kept bouncing around my head wasn't:

"How far did we run?"

It was:

"What would have happened if we'd kept going?"

What would 48 hours have looked like?

What would another night have revealed?

Chapter 12:

And perhaps that's the greatest compliment I can give AP4.

After twenty-four hours of effort, exhaustion, noise, lights, music, sleep deprivation and self-discovery...

I didn't leave feeling relieved it was over.

I left wondering what might happen if it never stopped.

And that's a very special thing.

Thank Yous:

Before I finish, I need to say thank you.

A genuine, heartfelt thank you to Ali, Laura and David for inviting me to be part of this.

Truthfully, there were moments throughout the weekend where I felt like I was punching above my

weight.

Looking around the room at some of the athletes, some of the performances and some of the talent on

display, it would have been easy to feel out of place.

But that's the beauty of experiences like this.

Nobody really belongs there until they do.

For 24 hours we all shared the same space, the same challenge, the same uncertainty, the same highs

and lows.

I'm incredibly grateful to have experienced it alongside three people I respect enormously.

Ali and Laura brought relentless positivity, grit and energy throughout the entire event.

David, as always, was a calm and steady presence when things got difficult and the hours became long.

To the AP4 team, thank you for creating something that feels genuinely different in a world that often

feels full of copies.

To everyone who stepped onto a treadmill and committed fully to the experience, thank you for helping

create an atmosphere that I'll remember for a very long time.

And to Ali, Laura and David—

thank you for saving me a seat at the table.

I arrived curious.

Chapter 13:

I left inspired.

Love wins.

Ali Young:

Part One. Arc Project ‘Treadmill Factory’

-Entered. Accepted.

-Teams must be 2 women and 2 men.

-Ask 3 amazing athletes to join me, they say yes and get accepted into the process, which requires essay like entry form from each individual.

-100 teams entered, 40selected. They selected well, all teams were on their treadmills all the way through. I’ve been at many 24hr events and majority drop (apart from an international of course).

-Strict race requirements on colours of kit and stuff we brought in. They had considered every level of the project.

-Mission - How far between the 4 of you, can you get on a treadmill?

-Catch - Sounds easy enough, but it’s a human powered treadmill. They require 30% more energy to use than a regular one. If you go easy pace it won’t move far, it requires force and power 🤯.

-Temperature - Hotter than hot. Our treadmill was the furthest away from a fan next to a concrete pillar. Soaked with sweat for 24hrs. Not an ice cube to be seen.

-Plan - WENT OUT THE WINDOW 😂.

-Process - Run, head in fan, go outside into the heat for some light, head in fan, Run. repeat.

-Ultimate Positive - Rave set up. I’ve been to many raves since 1990 and still go now, and they nailed the vibe. Those that know me, know dance music is my love.

-Team Combined Age - 205. By far the oldest team in the room. Endurance and talent through the roof between us but we are used to running in economy drive. When it comes to power, that is harder when you are older.

Started the plan by running 15mins each, none of us had used these type of treadmills before, see how we felt then thought probably go onto 30min blocks. Laura & I quickly discovered no way we could deliver a decent pace & run for that long. We are ladies that have run for over 30hrs straight but here the demands of the human powered treadmills required too much of our energy for a 24hr relay.

The boys were ok, natural strength of guys means they have more weight into each step so it’s not quite as hard to power them.

We moved to splitting 30 or 45mins - the boys would share one section & do 15mins each (moved to 10mins later)& Laura & I would split our share 5/5, which quickly came 3mins/3mins. This meant not much rest but it was good to move around & not sit down much anyway. A 3min run meant we could keep above 10km p/hr better. A quick walk to the side, put your head in the fan then switch.

Between the 4 of us, that treadmill didn’t stop for 24hrs as we’d transition quickly.

-We were 24th team over night but knew if we could keep up our strategies we would start to reel less experienced teams in. With about 2hrs to go we worked our way to 11th but we wanted that 10th spot. Oh my goodness did we all work so hard, each interval became a sprint. The determination and passion from the whole team was through the roof. SO PROUD that we kept our heads up, didn’t panic ‘too much’ when we realised the demands on this race meant a whole change of plan. As a team we 💯 were there for each other & worked a way that all of us could keep the pace up but with different time frames.

10th team. Over 248km. 24hrs of interval training in a heat chamber 🤯

Much energy used between intervals dancing as the tunes were fantastic. Apart from when they tortured us with sleepy tunes in the morning hours which made it even more tiring.

-Boys did 1hr between them & we 1hr between us so we could get some rest. Ours landed (unknown to us) in ‘light hour’ with the brightest room (athletes were given sunglasses to wear on treadmill) & the most thumping music. No surprise didn’t sleep 😂