Austria – Run With Dai

Mayrhofen part 2. The humbling

Published on September 9, 2026 by runwithdaiLeave a comment

The adventure for the Mayrhofen Ultraks Z101 was never meant to be multiple parts. However, 2025 introduced me to Mayrhofen and a cancellation due to weather saw us cover around 30km a of the trail. It was tough but spectacular and a second attempt was booked for 2026. The organisers kindly offered a discount for the 2026 edition, so Paul, Darryl and I signed up. More confident than ever…

Like the year before we attended the race briefing. This year there was little of note – The weather was perfect. It was pretty much going to be sunny throughout. Starting in low 30 temperatures and dropping to the mid teens high in the mountain during the night – The complete opposite to 2025. Even arriving in town the difference was obvious with the previously snow covered mountains a bright, lush green instead! There would be a small course diversion this year due to a landslide, but this section would be marked (the z101 is a semi-autonomous race with no specific course markings). The briefing also touched on the more technical aspects of the route after the climb to Schonbichler horn and the “block terrain” section towards the back end of the course. This year I was under no illusion as to what lay ahead, or so I thought…

At the start line we had our kit checked, collected our trackers and positioned ourselves fairly close to the front. Not intentionally, we just wanted the shade to keep cool in the scorching evening heat. Unlike last year when it pissed down at the start, there was a huge crowd who cheered us as we ran up the Main Street through Mayrhofen once the race started. By the time we got to the end of the main road it felt like most of the field of runners had passed us and we were fairly near the back where we belonged.

The first 30km of the route was comparable to 2025. We powered up the first climb to Gamshutte in about 2 hours. It is a whopping climb, but whilst the forest was warm and humid, the trails are forgiving. Arriving at the aid station it was still daylight (last year we were delayed an hour so it was dark when we arrived here) so we took a moment and enjoyed the view. We filled our bottles with ice cold mountain water. Ate some cake and drank a clear liquid that wasn’t water. It sounded like some local thing. Whatever it was, it was sweet.

From Gamshutte we descended quickly, recalling the runnable narrow switchbacks as we dashed down. Thinking back to the wet conditions of 2025, I don’t know how we didn’t fall down this trail. By now loads of other runners had passed us and it suddenly felt like we were propping up the race! We were shifting though and were down the mountain in next to no time at all. From here, the section was a long runnable stint of gravel trails, sealed paths and road but all gradually climbing a few hundred meters. We ran when we could. Walked with intent when it was steeper. We enjoyed the trails without our head torches, using the soft glow of infrequent street lights for as long as we could. A notable moment was seeing a cat casually laying on the back of a cow resting in a barn. It looked at us with a real cat attitude vibe.

As we approached the water stop that marked the end of the section, and the start of the biggest climb, Darryl and I noticed Paul had dropped back in the darkness of the night. While Darryl waited at the water station I took advantage of the public toilet at the road control area. Something ‘wasn’t right’ with my stomach and I was glad of this proper toilet! As I emerged, a new man, Paul was waiting with news. He’d decided not to carry on. He just wasn’t enjoying it nor was he in the right frame of mind for what lay ahead. Darryl and I said good bye, stuffed our face with the freshest, juiciest apple at the water station and carried on.

This climb is a beast, well over 1000m. It’s pretty tough, steep in places and hard on the legs and lungs. First you climb in the forest which was very humid this year. Then you emerge on to the mountain and it gets steeper and steeper. We moaned and groaned our way up. Somehow I’d blocked this all out from my memory and recalled “it wasn’t that bad”. It was. After a lot of swearing the trail levelled a bit as we navigated across the mountain and began the final section of the climb which was steep with short, rocky switchbacks. After summiting, the traverse of the few hundred meter long boulder field led us to the aid station. This was way easier to navigate this year without the snow covering! As we approached the aid station I stopped to try to recreate the photo from last year. Not a bad comparison …

Scroll to see the differences in conditions at Friesenberg-haus between 2025 and 2026!

We reached the Friesenberg-haus aid station in a little under 7 hours. We were almost an hour up on our rough plan (for a 30 hour finish, the cut off is 31 hours) and about 15 mins quicker than 2025. Confidence was good. I felt good! Here we had some soup and more of the clear liquid. Turns out there was a communication error on my part. It wasn’t a local drink, but some generic isotonic/sports nutrition. I took a few cups as I’d been cramping on the climb so thought this might help. There was a joyful moment as we left and I told Darryl I’d gone further than I did last time. Darryl had a few more km to the next aidstation to get the same sensation.

Here our race soon started to unravel. From the Friesenberg-haus the terrain changes dramatically and is basically just rock the whole way. The short but steep climb out of the aid station was tough. It only took about 20 mins, but it felt way longer and harder. Effort levels had shot up. We then slowly descended all the way to the next aidstation station – the Olperer-hutte (a little over 3km away). It was slow because the terrain was so tough. Just endless large boulders and slabs of rock the whole way. Our gait was disturbed, our ankles rolling and our toes being bashed about. Like I’d done before, Darryl seemed to have blocked this from his memory. Last year in the snow he covered this section far quicker than we did this year. I’ve no idea how!

The stand out memory from this section was an odd technical malfunction Darryl experienced. He’d been complaining his head torch was quite dim. At some point there was a loud crack. We both heard it and I thought it was perhaps the sound of a rock being cracked underground as the slab he stepped on moved. However he said it came from him and he felt something hit his head. He reached back and his battery compartment of his torch had come loose. Odd. He closed it and carried on, making a note to change the battery at the next stop. As we arrived at Olperer-hutte, he went to change his battery. It was then he found out that one of the AAA batteries had exploded, leaked acid and blown the battery compartment open. Thankfully he was able to clean out the acid and change battery without issue and the torch now worked properly. A new experience for sure!

At Olperer-huttewe had some snacks but got cold quickly. Even with the warm night it was chilly so high on the mountain (we were around 2,400m at this point). We quickly checked the profile of what was next and left. We were a little confused as it seemed to suggest it was an 18km section. But we knew it wasn’t that long! It was however net down hill as we’d loop towards the Italian border and then turn back on ourselves down to Zamsgatterl where our drop bags would be.

This section was an enduring nightmare. Ultimately our undoing. Very soon into it Darryl vocalised his pains. His Achilles injury had flared up and he acknowledged he was in a lot of pain. He’d power through and get the medics to check him over at Zamsgatterl. Powering through was all we could do as the mountain put an end to any aspirations we had of moving with any pace. The terrain was just more of the same. Rock after rock after rock. “Block terrain” was the phrase used by the race director to describe the terrain towards the end of the course, but oddly not here. It was like one continuous boulder field for over 10km. In many places solid and stable slabs of rock, in many places uneven large boulders we’d tentatively hop our way across from one to the other and in between just loose rocks the size of footballs. On some occasions it was steep with chains to navigate, in one place it was like a stone stair way to the stars – huge boulders we’d lunge up. We joked that even though it was a net downhill section, we were moving with the pace of a steep climb. It was no joke though and it wasn’t a good sign.

My stomach was playing up again and I needed to take a moment to myself. After a steep climb (on which a large sheep casually lay on the track without a care in the world) I left Darryl perched on a rock and I climbed higher to find a bit of privacy away from the trail. With my headlight off I found a moment to enjoy the surreal night sky. Stars glistening in the darkness with a slight glow highlight the mountain silhouettes all around. It was a special moment. Darryl had also enjoyed the starry sky without his head torch while he waited for me. As for my stomach, I was starting to think that the isotonic drink I was knocking back doesn’t agree with my stomach. I made a note not to have any more!

With our headlights back on we trudged forward. We slowly navigated around the mountain trail. Occasionally seeing head torches way off in the distance. Constantly swearing at the ground. At one point Darryl tripped and fell. Shortly after I did the same. We decided to ‘take a moment’ and sat ourselves on a rock, heads down in silence feeling sorry for ourselves as we tried to regain composure. A few minutes later we got back up to carry on and “get this over with”. We were barely covering any distance. Everything was so distorted. It felt like we were moving fairly quickly, but we just weren’t. It was slow going. We reached the river crossing that was noted in the race briefing, but that was straight forward. The water level was so low we didn’t event wet our toes. Eventually we could see head torches coming in a different direction. The border and turnaround point was within touching distance but yet so so far away. When we did eventually reach it we were mentally exhausted. Physically too, it was like we’d run 80km not 30 odd. Our neck and shoulders also ached from staring at the ground constantly.

The trail opened onto a wide access track. We were excited and then immediately disappointed as a few markings led us across and off the trail. Whilst it was a self navigation route, the course did follow the marked trail with the usual red/white markings (which we exceptionally visible having recently been painted – you could still smell the paint!!). Here though there were no trail markings. The path was barely visible (it’s just rock remember) and we followed what felt and locked logical in the darkness. Darryl’s watch beeped constantly indicating we were going wrong/off route. It was beeping so frequently I thought it was birds chirping away.

Eventually we found our way down and re-joined the wider access track. It was less rocky now and far more runnable. Our legs however had no running in them. We were probably close to 45km in but death marching like it was 95km. Slow steady steps forward. Amazingly as we made our way down the track we could occasionally see head torches way up high beginning the descent, still heading towards the border, probably not yet even at the river crossing. We counted maybe 6 or 7 lights still behind us. Some maybe even 2 hours behind. We were amazed after thinking we were right at the back.

In the distance a glow started to appear. The Zamsgatterl was coming into sight. By now though we’d been ‘crunching the numbers’ for a while and had come to the realisation that we wouldn’t be making the cut offs and would most likely be getting timed out. Not here though…

The first cut off was at 1pm (20hours) at Greizer Hutte. After that it would be 5pm (24 hrs) at the Kasseler Hutte. Before the Greizer Hutte though we had to climb and descend the two highest sections on the course. From Zamsgatterl a short flat section by the reservoir, then starting the steep climb to Schonbichler Horn, the highest point of the course. First passing another aid station the Furtschaglhaust. From the summit we’d then descend what would involve a very technical section with a rope. The pictures of it from the race briefing make out it is a difficult descent. After the descent off Schonbichler Horn we’d reach the Berliner hutte. Then another climb up Mörchnerscharte and down the other side to Greizer Hutte, This section is supposedly even more technical and difficult.

The descent off Schonbichler Horn (although we wouldn’t have had the snow covering this year)

It was a long and torturous journey ahead. We discussed continuing to Berliner Hutte, By which point we’d probably be timed out. There we could enjoy the views and rest at the mountain hut with a hot meal. And we’d get to experience the Schonbichler horn. This was now our aim if the reality of being timed out was as likely as we thought.

Arriving into Zamsgatterl we were deflated. The drop bags and seating/ aid station was outside on the trail. It was about 5:30 in the morning and very cold in the valley. We asked if there was an indoor area and we were led to a small back room. A sort of storage room for the hut. There was another runner sitting in there in full waterproofs trying to stay warm. He’d dropped from the race about an hour and a half earlier and was waiting for a lift back from the organisers once all runners had arrived/passed through.

The space wasn’t conducive to the rest we needed. The usual warm meal and change of clothing wasn’t going to happen smoothly. I quickly changed as we talked through the options. I chatted with the other runner who knew the area and course well. Darryl went to speak with the medic. My news was insightful, Darryl’s a little more tragic – he’d been told to withdraw and not continue on medical grounds. His Achilles was in a bad place and it would be very risky for him to continue. He handed his race number in. I stubbornly held onto mine refusing to succumb to the reality.

Basically John (the other runner) said we wouldn’t make the cut offs. That was clear. We needed at least 8 hours based on how long it had taken to cover the course so far. If I left immediately we had about 7.5 hours. The volunteers also confirmed I’d have to have left already to have any chance of making the 1pm cut off. Plan B and the tour to Berliner Hutte for food was also unfeasible. There would be no transport back from the Berliner hut (it was a few hundred meter climb up the mountain) and if I did get there, I’d have to walk about 10km back down to a main road to get any transport (and that would involve waiting for public buses in a Sunday to get to the other side of the mountain range). John did suggest I could climb the Schonbichler Horn, then turn around and come back to Zamsgatterl . But by which time I’d return, the runners and aid station would be gone and I’d probably have similar issues getting transport back to Mayrhofen.

I was slowly accepting the reality of the situation. It all made sense to drop here. To stop trying to go further. To take the option of a lift back and, most importantly be sensible – I did after all have to remember that in a week’s time is be on the start line of the Tor Des Geants 330km race. So this would actually be a blessing in disguise and not wreck my body before staring. I handed in my number too….

Probably about 30 mins later the volunteers drove a few of us back to the town of Ginzling – were we arrived after the first descent in the race. As we waited for the organisers to collect us from here, Paul woke up and came to collect us. By 8am we were showered and in bed. After a sleep the analysis began… on reflection we had no chance. This race isn’t for us. We aren’t strong nor fast enough to endure the terrain of the Mayrhofen z101.

After being an hour ahead of our race plan at Friesenberg-haus, by the time we reached Zamsgatterl we were almost 2 hours behind plan. That’s a massive swing and time difference in what was a fairly short distance. We’d planned to leave Zamsgatterl about 4am. Instead we were arriving near to 5:30am and feeling battered from the journey.

Whilst Zamsgatterl is a little under half way in terms of distance, John suggested it was closer to about a third of the way in terms of time (which would make sense from our own timings and what remained of the time to the final cut-off). The second half of the course being much harder and much more technical. John alluded to it being very similar to the block terrain we’d covered, added with the three big climbs, technical descents and a ridge crossing. Throw in the tired legs and it just becomes slower to navigate.

The “Block Terrain” hat makes up most of the distance after the Kasseler Hutte. Similar to what we traversed in the night.

He said someone he knew, who’d finished the race previously, had suggested that you probably need an ItRa index of at least 600 to finish it. For context both Darryl and I are high 400s. (I’m currently a little over 500 after a skewed result bunked my performance index up uncharacteristically). I looked up John after the race and he was high 500s. He himself was aiming for a 29hour finish and was over 1.5 hours ahead of us getting to Zamsgatterl. It was clear our plan and confidence was way off the mark and we’d truly underestimated the brutality and technicality of the race. the short section we’d managed to do in 2025 wasn’t representative of the rest of the route!

After the race finished, checking the results only 34 out of the 111 starters finished. That is an astonishing low finisher rate of 30% and a huge dnf (did not finish) rate of 70% in what was perfect conditions for the run. You’d normally expect the percentages to be the other way around and on a bad weather day an event’s dnf rate to creep to the 40% mark. 30%! We did not belong on this start line!

What was more telling was that all the finishers were way ahead of our splits. All the runners who finished in the final hour made it to the first aid station over an hour faster than us and all of them passed Zamsgatterl (where we dropped out) over 2 hours faster than us. Everyone inbetween was timed out at the first cut off at Greizer Hutte.

So on reflection it was the wise and sensible choice to stop when we did. Although we the wiser choice would have been to better research and understand the race and route and our compatibility before signing up for it (twice!) in the first place. We will live and learn. Maybe… Mayrhofen z101 is no doubt a spectacular event in an incredibly beautiful area. It also well and truly humbled us. I won’t be naïve enough to go back a third time!

The race profile showing where we reached (Zamsgatterl) and the profile that lay ahead…

Austria Strikes Again

Published on September 8, 2025 by runwithdai1 Comment

Another race in Austria, another mid race cancellation…

The Mayrhofen Ultra Z101, I won’t lie, scared me. For weeks we over analysed the profile and route. The technicality of the race sounded more on the extreme side of the events I’ve attempted – The climbs were long, steep and many (there were 3 climbs in excess of 1,000m and 2 more just under!). The final descent was almost a whopping 1800m drop over about 8km. The route was self-navigation (not marked). The finisher rate in previous years was less than 50%. But it wasn’t those things that worried us the most, it was the cut off timings there were 31 hours to complete it, this sounded very hard!

When over analysing, we made the mistake of comparing previous finishers times and ITRa scores. We were more worried now. In previous iterations, there were finishers finishing in the final 30 mins with an ITRa score in the mid 600s. Ours were all in the 400s. There were people finishing in the final 3 who’d done sub 30 hour UTMB times (we did 45hrs!) and 19 hour TDS finishers (we did 35 hrs!). Fair to say we were feeling the pressure and were prepared for a long, hard weekend of suffering.

The day before the race at the race briefing the organisers talked through the course and some of the many difficult sections with cables or high summits or the final boulder section after 80km we’d most likely do at night. They also discussed the weather which was wet and cold with plenty of snow expected on the summits. They said they were monitoring the conditions and would update us.

The day of the race we might have cheered a little when we received an email advising that there was a course change due to the snow. We wouldn’t be going up the Schonbichler Horn. It looked incredible but as the highest summit over 3000m the conditions were deemed unsafe so we wouldn’t be diverted along the road through the valley instead. The new course was slightly longer but had about 600m less elevation. We felt this made the cut offs more achievable for us and we now had a fighting chance of making the cut offs.

45 mins before the race start we were at the start line ready to have our kit checked and receive our trackers. There we were told the the start would be delayed by 1 hour due to the rain. It was absolutely pouring it down. We were there in full waterproofs and were already soaked from walking down from the accommodation! So whilst annoying that we were delayed (and would now definitely be doing the boulder field in the dark the following night), we saw the benefit of hopefully starting in drier conditions!

Torrential rain and snow capped mountains

Come 6pm, the weather had indeed improved and we were off. After a fast start along the road and the climb to the village of Finkenberg, we soon entered the forest. Quickly the field of 60 or so runners spread out and the four of us settled near the back of the pack. Soon we were separating out amongst ourselves. Whilst aiming and wanting to run together, we we each individually focused on getting through the first two climbs as quickly as possible to assess our situation and timings.

These first two climbs of the route were huge. We’d climb 1300 on the first climb over about 9km and then over 1500m on the second climb. We’d see approximately 3000m of climb in the first 30km. With the amended route, that was now almost half the total elevation gain of the route! Paul and Darryl were ahead and I was a little further back then Matt a little behind me as we climbed. The climb was steep but the terrain friendly with mostly dirt tracks through the forest. We followed short, narrow switchbacks up endlessly through the forest. Eventually Darryl was lost to sight as I caught up with Paul and Matt close to us both.

We broke through the forest towards Gamshutte, the first aid station. There was a short out and back section to the refuge where we saw Darryl was already on his way down. The rest of us climbed up the last few hundred metres and took a few minutes to sort our fuel and eat before heading back down. The day light was diminishing and we put our head torches on. Paul had issues with his torch so Matt provided the light whilst he fixed it and I ran on.

The descent was steep and frantic as we dropped 1,000m. The trail here was again short switch backs but with loose wet soil. I ran freely with gravity assisting the pace. The forest was so dark and quiet. Despite still having some light outside, the dense trees blocked it all from reaching us and we ran under the feint glow of our head torches. A few times I slipped, the wet mud causing a few scares and the sharp hairpin bends keeping me focused. Luckily I never fell and in no time at all I was nearing the bottom, somewhat hot and out of breath.

As I continued there was no sign of any of the others, neither Darryl ahead of me nor Paul or Matt behind me. From here I knew the course would be pathed and gravelled road running through several smaller villages that gradually climbed before the next ascent really started. I stopped quickly and tightened my laces then set off, knowing I’d need to run as much as this section as I could to give myself a proper chance of finishing within the cut offs. I ran on and on and on. It was so long. The climb was the sort of climb at home I wouldn’t run, a gradual incline of about 300m over 9km or so. I kept on running though. My frustration was that, despite running it all, I was never catching the glimmers of head torches I’d see in the distance and was even overtaken a few times. I kept my head strong though and didn’t let this phase me or stop me running.

Eventually there was another aid station on the side of the road. An extra unexpected one at the start of the next climb. Due to the diverted route we’d come back here the next day, so I think that’s why it was there. I was glad and refilled my bottles ready for the 1300m climb over about 3km.

We started in the forest. Wow it was steep. Big lunging steps and rocks covered the path through the forest. The climb was endless short switch backs with no real break from the steepness. It took about an hour to get through the forest section, where we then climbed on the open mountain. It was dark. It was mostly off track. The ground was saturated with water. Looking up, I could see up high in the sky was an array of head torches lighting up the route. To my left the summit, clearly covered in snow and white in the darkness of night.

As I climbed the wet grass gave way to white snow. At 2000m the ground was covered in a thin layer of it. I could see why there were concerns about the snow that changed the course – we’d still be climbing close to 3,000m later on and already the snow level was down around the 2,000m mark! Regardless though, I plodded on. For an age. As I reached the higher level where I could see head torches starting the snowy summit I could feel the air getting much, much colder. I was aware and told myself I would layer up before too long to ensure I wasn’t cold when we summited.

I carried on. Slowly using my poles to drag my ass up. I did stop half way up the final ascent section to put on my coat and gloves. I couldn’t fit my fingers into my gloves properly so just rammed them in as best I could, knowing that eventually they would warm up and I’d have more manoeuvrability when they weren’t so cold. The climb was slow but eventually I summited about 2 hours after I started. As I breached the saddle, wow! the view was infinite. In the dark of night the full moon lit up the mountains all around me. The sky was so clear and as far as I could see there were snow covered mountains. Such a view was worth the climb!

Moonlight lighting up the night after the second climb

From here we traversed the side of the mountain towards Friesenberghaus hut. Way off I could see it. Lit up in the night. Beyond it head torches leaving and continuing the journey on towards the next mountains and refuge. I carried on, eager to get to the aid station. Then the route got harder. What looked like a quick traverse became a slow steady scramble as I climbed over huge snow covered rocks. They were so slippery. The only good thing was that the previous runners had compressed enough snow to make it easier for me to navigate the boulders and follow in the footsteps of those before me. It was quite nerve wracking with the slippery rocks.

The Freisenberghaus Hutte- the end of my race. A few head torches can be seen on their way to the next refuge.

Eventually I crossed the boulders and and the path became more clear and I trusted my footings again. Out of nowhere two ladies ran passed me. Again I was amazed how fast they were moving as I was running too and not exactly taking my time. It is always so impressive to see how quick and fearless other runners are!

Into the aid station I arrived and immediately stared chatting with the volunteers. They were so friendly and helpful. They filled my bottles and gave me warm beef soup. As I was chatting the lady answered the phone and I heard her say “oh no”. Then it came. They said the race had been terminated. The weather conditions had deteriorated and they were concerned about the route further along and the safety of runners. It was an odd feeling. It didn’t phase me in anyway. Just pure “oh well” acceptance. I took more soup and chatted with them some more. They told me there was another hiking path and I could descend to a road after 5km where they would arrange transport for us. I told them I’d wait for my two other friends to arrive (Darryl had already passed through) and went inside the refuge to wait in the warmth. Inside the two ladies and 3 more runners were also warming up. I noticed immediately that they were all wearing snow spikes. No wonder they were so confident with their running, although, I wouldn’t have wanted to wear spikes on the big boulders!

After a while I went back outside to look for Paul and Matt. I could see two head torches in the distance, probably finishing up the boulder section. The volunteer checked the tracker and confirmed it was them. She also confirmed Darryl was out of sight and on his way to the next aid station (which was a short section only about 5 km away). She asked me if I wanted to tell them the news or leave it to her. I said I would but that they wouldn’t believe me. I called out in the night and cheered them in. Then I broke the news. As predicted, they didn’t believe me. She confirmed, it took them a few moments to come to the realisation that it was no joke. Disappointment set in.

We went inside in the warmth and had more soup before taking the descent down off the mountain. It was a long 5km path as we descended 700m to the lake. The terrain not much better with large rocks and saturated paths. We had a few stream crossings and a very slippery wooden bridge to navigate to the road by the lake. Here we waited and maybe 5-10 mins later a mountain rescue team arrived and collected us. We started driving home before turning around and heading the opposite way. We drove to the halfway aid station and picked up more runners (and our drop bags). The cramped medical van drove us so far before we pulled over and squished into a taxi for the rest of the journey. We did eventually get back to Mayrohfen and, thanks to Paul’s boldness, we also got the taxi to stop outside our accommodation to save us a ten minute walk back through the town.

On the journey we discussed our thoughts and feelings. A few times the idea of getting up early and doing one of the other races (the 50 or 30kms perhaps) came up. But it was too late. We didn’t get to sleep till 5am and those races had early starts and buses to the start lines. It took us a while to realise the extent of our work out too. We still ran 35km with 3000m of ascent at night. It was no easy run and we were all a little achy when we did eventually wake up that day!

One thing is certain, for now, no more runs in the temperamental Austria mountains!

Glossglockner Ultra Trail

Published on August 6, 2025 by runwithdaiLeave a comment

We arrived into Kaprun to be welcomed by the rain. Immediately on the drive in the mountains were spectacular, towering above us in all directions. We managed one dry little hike the day before the race. Other than that, it rained, sometimes torrentially, for the few days we were there before the race. We also took advantage of the physio taping available, each addressing our own little niggles. Mine, some weird heel issue that has come out of nowhere to cause me pain (so much so that I added Codeine to my medical kit incase I needed to ‘block it out’).

Whilst the rest of us enjoyed a lazy morning, Ale did the 37km race, where he ran along the first 30km of our route, only in the opposite direction back to where we would be starting later that night. At the finish, he was soaked, but happy. That afternoon, the safety briefing for our race was released. It was comprehensive and very detailed. As we suspected it might be, the course for the other races was changed. For the 110k there were two changes, both in the second half of the course, we’d lose elevation gain and instead be re-directed through the valleys rather than up and over the mountains. We were ok with this change, the other potential change (that we were aware of) that could have happened was a complete re-route of the first 30km where we’d follow a road around the mountain. We were glad we wouldn’t be doing this diversion. They also changed the cut-offs, reducing the overall cut off by 2 hours. I guess that suggested the course would be ‘easier’. It didn’t affect my plan though – I intended to finish within 28 hours as that was the time required to use the race as a qualification for the Western States (WSER) run which I keep trying to get into.

At the start line it was raining hard. Jon and I kept dry as long as we could. Just before starting the rain eased up and the MC indicated that they didn’t think it would rain anymore. Knowing we would be climbing uphill for pretty much the first few hours (we’d cover just shy of 2,000m elevation gain in the first 20km), I removed my coat to avoid overheating. Naturally, as soon as we started running it began raining again…

The route started in the main town square. Immediately we were walking as they funnelled the runners right after the start line for some reason. Then it was a free for all along the road. I ran with Jon to begin with. After a short while we left the road onto some wider gravel tracks and then about 2km later we hit a climb. The poles came out as we slowed to a walk up the switchback narrow tracks. But it didn’t last long and we flattened out pretty quickly and started running again. I kept moving with the crowd and lost Jon in the masses. After the climb we ran first through muddy fields and past a building site/quarry of some sort before we were back on the wide gravel tracks again. It was an ever so gradual incline as we ran passed the Sigmund Thun Klamm Wasserfall that was spectacularly lit up in different colours in the night.

A picture Jon captured of the waterfall. Far better than the one I attempted to capture!

It proceed to rain and piss down as we made our way uphill, the climb getting steeper and steeper. There was a combination of narrow tracks, switch backs and wide roads. Occasionally, heavy machinery passing us on the roads in the night. We made our way through numerous tunnels, some on the roads, and some on the trails. They added a bit of adventure to the course. So far, so good. The climb was long, but easy going. The terrain was varied and, early on, at its hardest it was because of the water and how muddy the trails were. We weaved around the mountain, crossing many streams through the early hours. I was soaked right through, head to toe, but mostly warm. I told myself I’d re-assess the clothing options at the first checkpoint once we got higher. The decision was almost made for me as we passed through the bigger of the tunnels, running inside a narrow footpath beside the road.

As we emerged back out to the footpath, there was a queue of runners and a marshal. We were going to navigate along the cliff edge. There was no path anymore, just slippery rocks and a sheer drop below us. There were metal rungs occasionally there to aid our step and a metal cable along side for support. It was slow going. The worst part, above us over the mountain, the water was gushing down and we were essentially crossing a waterfall. It was a cold, midnight shower. Suddenly I was drenched and freezing and knew I’d need to put on a warmer layer at the aid station. Thankfully it was just around the corner once we were back on solid ground.

We were 2,000m up now. It was much colder. There was a large gazebo on the side of the road. It was the first aid station, Mooserboden. Like me, other runners were changing tops/putting on jackets as a priority. I put my coat straight on. Whilst I was wet underneath, I knew keeping the cold, windy air off my body would be sufficient to keep me warm. The effort of the climbing would mean my body temperature wouldn’t drop. I quickly had some warm potato soup (amazing!), filled my bottles and set back off.

A picture Jon took somewhere along the first climb. That might be the first aid station shining bright in the distance

Now we had one of the more spectacular sections of the race, alongside the damns and reservoirs above Kaprun. Only it was about 1am, so there was nothing for me to see. The route here was fairly flat and a mixture of pathed roads running across the damns, then rocky trails along side the streams that fed the reservoirs. It was undulating with a few climbs and again very muddy on the trails. I wasn’t expecting this, but it made so much sense. Even in the darkness I could sense the presence of the mountains, they were huge and dominating. They create their own weather system in the area and the vastness of the water-cycle became obvious.

After 4 or 5 km of these trails we started climbing again. It was steeper than before. Again, initially muddy, then progressively steeper and rockier. The rocks became boulders and it was a slow slog. Occasionally a little scrambling was required. Watching videos of the course I was mentally prepared and had put my poles away along time ago. They wouldn’t help on the giant, slippery rocks and the freedom of my hands for scrambling was a definite winner. At the top, a narrow squeeze through the rocks took us over the summit. I took a mount to breathe, looked down and assess the descent.

It started with a slow scramble down, using my hands to lower myself between rocks. The rocky switch backs then dominated the track as we weaved down slowly. As the rocks became smaller, the trail became narrower and wetter once more. I was moving freely though. Behind me another runner stuck with my pace and we started talking. It was a guy called Jakob. Between us we struggled to navigate in the darkness. The mist and clag severely limited our vision and the head torches couldn’t pick up the reflection of the course markings. It was slow but steady progress together. Thankfully I remained upright throughout, despite the odd bog reaching above my shins. For parts the trails reminded me of the boggy trails I’d run in Norway.

After the descent the trails were similar to before – flooded, muddy and narrow. Once more we weaved across many mountain streams as we made our way to the next climb. This one was a little slower going. It felt steeper, the rocks felt bigger and my breathing felt heavier. We were open to the elements up high and the wind was howling. After about 300m or so we emerged at the next aid station Rudolfshutte. Jakob set about tending to his feet and I went and had a few vegetable soups. The warmth and saltiness of the soups were delicious. Best I’ve had on a race for a long time. I didn’t stop long and went straight back out.

In the darkness of the night I ran down the path out of the aid station, a straight, fairly steep downhill that woke the legs up. It wasn’t long, although with the mist I couldn’t tell. At the bottom I found myself running with a few others. It was stop start as we navigated the course with difficulty. After a while we completely lost track of all markings and found ourselves to be off course. We’d followed the more obvious path, but now needed to back track a few hundred meters. Back on course we were climbing again. Just like before, out in the open on the mountain, steep rocks leading us up. There were no switch backs here. Just head down and follow a straight line up to the summit of the climb. It was once again slow going but I kept moving. The higher we climbed the colder it got.

An Image Jon took showing the terrain on some of the climbs. I assume this was the last summit before the long descent giving the darkness had gone and he wasn’t far behind me.

When I reached the summit, I felt on top of the world. Morning was slowly breaking and the darkness of night was becoming more grey in the rain. Visibility was improving as I headed straight back down. I knew now it was all down hill to the half-way mark. It was about 16-18km of downhill though! The initial descent was steep as we clambered over the boulders to lower ground. Then we followed narrow switchbacks on loose scree. The ankles were screaming, but the descent was quick. After descending a few hundred meters the incline decreased and the trails became less rocky.

The morning was clearing up, the rain stopped and I finally had enough light to get a glimpse of the surroundings. Wow! We were in a vast valley. Surrounded by huge mountains. It reminder me of those in the French Alps. All around us were spectacular rock formations and huge waterfalls. I tried to take some pictures, but the lighting didn’t do it justice. Jakob went flying passed me as I continued to plod down. Way off in the distance was a lake where I could see runners heading too. From there who knows where the course would take me…

Looking back on the summit as the darkness gave way to light

It felt like an eternity, trundling with wet, muddy trails and dry gravel tracks to make any progress. Occasional short inclines brought brief moments of rest. I was conscious that I was going to destroy my quads, but this was probably going to be the best trails and terrain I’d get for any consistent running, so kept moving. Partway down there was a water stop at a farm. Well, water and beer. I filled my bottles (with water!) and left, carrying on the consistent pace where possible. There was another runner here, Jan that I started chatting with and we ran pretty much all the way to the aid station together.

At one point on the descent, the trail took us through another tunnel. Jan was way ahead at this point as I entered and tried to film the tunnel. It was however longer than I expected and pitch black inside. As I ran I fumbled around to find my head torch. It was a huge tunnel. As I ran I could here a rumble. It was loud. Like the night before I assumed there were works and heavy machinery somewhere. It grew louder and louder and I couldn’t ascertain where it was coming from. Then I looked behind me and saw a faint glow of headlights. There was something very big coming behind me! I stepped up the pace. I was almost sprinting in the dark. There was no where to step aside in the tunnel. I could see the daylight ahead and ran as fast as my tired legs would take me. Outside Jan was waiting and moments after me a huge tractor and trailer emerged right behind me. I made it just in time! A race within a race.

The last few kms into the aid station were a walk run as we ran through the town and up to the aid station. As I arrived the 50km runners were lining up about to start. The MC called out “one minute to go”. I looked for my friends in the crowd but couldn’t see them. So I started screaming their names. The runners loved it. Many cheered back, many clapped me and there were a few hi-fives too as they set off running passed me in the opposite direction, to begin their own adventures.

Inside, I got my drop bag and did a full kit change, dried and cleaned my feet, reapplied some tape and had a nice warm pasta dish. I spent a little over 30mins preparing myself. I felt good. Very good. It had taken just over 10 hours to get through Kals, which was just shy of 50km. As tough mountain 50kms go, it was alright! For comparison it took over 13 hours to do a similar distance at the Dolomiti Extreme Trail recently and Stranda Fjord 3 years ago took me about 12 hours. I psyched myself up to head back out in the rain, optimistic I’d be finishing far quicker than I planned for.

The long, diverted climb after Kals where my race ended

Only I didn’t realise just how quickly I’d be finishing… After leaving the aid station we were on wide un-pathed roads. Climbing almost immediately. Some parts were fairly steep but overall it was a manageable incline to hike steadily. I passed the turning where the original course would have take and probably got about 2-3km along, climbed maybe 300m before I saw a runner coming down hill. I assumed they were either not in the race or had decided to quit and return to Kals. Then they stopped me and explained the race had been stopped. Cancelled. It was over. Due to weather conditions near the GlocknerHause the organisers had decided to stop the races and runners were to return to the nearest Aid Station (either Kals I’d just left or to GloreHutte for those further along). I was in disbelief. I didn’t want to believe them I stayed there and waited as they headed back down. A few moments later more runners were coming. Acceptance set in. Once of the runners was Jan and he confirmed he’d spoken to his wife who’d said the same. Begrudgingly I turned around and began slowly heading back to Kals too. On the way down more and more runners passed me.

As I descended I got chatting to another, a French chap. We acknowledged it was disappointing but safety is always the right call. He said that the organisers were arranging for buses to transport runners back to Kaprun from the aid stations. At Kals, I looked for Jon and the others but couldn’t find them. Then a lady announced there were two buses. I made sure I was on one. An hour and a half later I was back in Kals where it all began. A whole day ahead of me with no idea how to use it!

As disappointing as it is, it’s always the right decision for an organiser to prioritise safety of runners above everything else. People will moan, but no organiser wants to cancel their race! I was glad to get on the first bus (good timing!) as some of the others waited hours for buses. The only thing I’d criticise is that since the race was cancelled, and still, there has been no communication from the organisers whatsoever to participants directly. An explanation of some sort would be appreciated. That said, I’d definitely go back to this race and finish the job! I was running well and on for a good time! I also feel bad for my friends on the 50km race that only managed a few kms before their race was cancelled less than an hour after they began!

Later that week I emailed the organiser of WSER to see what the situation would be regarding qualifiers. They quickly responded saying they’d still accept the GGUT as a qualifier IF I’d reached GloreHutte before it was cancelled. Sadly I didn’t and was probably still a few hours away from that point. So I immediately went off looking for another qualifier. I looked at several options and begrudgingly signed up to run the North Downs Way 100, again. Logistically it was the easiest and most sensible option. The race is next week… yeah, a 100mile event at a week’s notice can be ‘sensible’ with this addiction!

Mozart 100

Published on July 8, 2023 by runwithdai1 Comment

This feels like a diary now, writing about races so frequently in a short time. It’s almost as exhausting as the runs themselves!

Last time I wrote about how my feet had recovered in rapid time between Transylvania and Lofoten. Well miracles don’t happen twice. After Lofoten it was a slow recovery. I’d done nothing except sit at my work desk and move from there to the sofa. Despite the little bit of rest, flying out to Salzburg for the Mozart 100 I had three health issues on my mind. My feet – delayered and with fresh, raw baby-like pink skin on the pads and around my heels on both feet. My right knee after the twisting pain from Lofoten. And my left big toe/metatarsal – I hadn’t been able to bend the big toe for two weeks. These weren’t going to stop me though. Mozart 100 has been one of my bucket list events for a while and I wanted it. I was out here with Natalia and she was running the Mozart marathon which was the last 40km of the route I’d be doing (a sort of figure of 8 route from Salzburg through St Gilgen and back).

Just like Lofoten I prepared the feet before the race with a combination of Duo Derm (hydrocolloid dressings) and KT tape I. The hope of substituting for the missing skin layers. The knee and toe would just have to be dealt with mentally if they caused me issues. I was quite casual in the morning and had less than 5 mins to the start of the race after I dropped off the drop bag for St Gilgen. By the time I walked back to the start line, I found myself right at the back. I couldn’t even fit in the starting pen!

The plus side was that, within minutes of arriving, the race had started and I was running under the start arch. I made a decision to try and gain some places whilst I could and whilst it was flat. This was a good, but questionable decision. It turns out that the first 7km of the race was flat road and gravel tracks. The route took us through the old town, out and along the river. I kept running. Speeding passed people until I was only keeping pace with those around me. I was gassed. I wasn’t expecting to be running so fast for so long. Thankfully though, 8km in we hit the single track climb into the forest and the pack of runners came to a complete stand still at the bottleneck. People were moaning and trying to push passed around the sides. I was glad though. I needed the breather!

After a few short minutes we were on the move with gentle trails in the forest and smooth roads taking us up little climbs on switch backs. In no time at all we arrived into the first aid station. From here we’d head to the town of Hof. We’d visit Hof later in the day on our way back to Salzburg too.

This section was more of the same really with the route following smooth roads and wide gravel tracks. The small climbs were gentle switch backs and the downhill sections were sweeping tracks at a pleasing gradient that was pleasant to run. I was feeling good. My feet stung a little bit from all the pounding on hard ground when running the downhills. But I couldn’t feel any knee issues and my toe was only mildly uncomfortable when running downhill. This was good.

We crossed little villages and a few streams over small wooden bridges. We ran Into forests that had that fresh damp smell (there were thunder storms the day before) and it smelt divine. After a few small climbs and descents with plenty more running, I arrived at the aid station in Hof. It felt quick and my average pace over this first 22km was close to 7mins per km. Plenty fast for a 100km ultra! I hadn’t really eaten much and wasn’t endeared by the offerings at the aid stations, so I took a Naak energy bar. It was quite nice. Different to what I’m used to eating.

Leaving Hof I recalled two ‘lumps’ in the course. The first on road up through a little village and down as we left it. Then the second taking us back up this time through grass and fields behind houses and we passed a little farm and across a main road. I remember a volunteer / marshal sitting outside a house directing us. An old man with a big smile on his face.

From here the climbing began… the first of three chunky ascents in the first half of the race was upon us. It was a steep climb. It seemed to go Just straight up. No switch backs or winding trails to ease us up. Just a straight line through the forest packed with runners. It was fairly Technical in the sense that it was was very rooty. I thought to myself that this could make my tender feet very sore so tried to be consistent with my foot placement to minimise any rolling movements. I was glad we were ascending and not descending on this trail. Every now and then the trees would open up and present amazing views of the surrounding mountains and towns.

Once we reached the top it was rocky. We had a short traverse before beginning our descent. It was similar in that we pretty much ran straight down with few twists in the trail. It was steep and rocky at first before becoming more steady underfoot with smaller loose rocks and then gravel tracks. It was a long descent and I could feel my quads starting to burn. My legs were understandably tired after recent adventures and I was feeling it in my body now. We bottomed out and arrived at the next aid station. I treated myself to some Coke (Red Bull cola) as I felt I’d been running well up to now. Just under 4:45 hours and 32km distance covered.

From here we climbed again. The course was very similar now and followed the pattern of long sweeping roads and wide dirt tracks on gentle climbs. This one we covered about 600m over about 5km. It was tiring but not too taxing. Up top was another aid station and a chance to take on more water. There were plenty of cows chilling at the aid station and a café with hikers sitting outside it. I wet my hat in a mountain trough and made the short, single track descent before the next climb where we’d continue up to Zwölferhorn. This was another big climb to Zwölferhorn . It started the same manner as the others – on roads and gravel tracks. Then became steeper as we hiked up in the forest. Once more the tree line breaking to provide amazing views of the lakes way down below on either side.

Eventually up top we broke out of the forest to a peak with a cross marking its summit. Loads of hikers were sitting enjoying the views. I started taking pictures then realised the real summit was further along passed the next aid station, the flags flapping in the distance. I carried on and ran over into the aid station. I made a short stop to refill water knowing that St Gilgen and my drop bag awaited after the descent the other side. The descent to St Gilgen was the longest and steepest yet. We ran along a mixture of rocks and rooty forest paths. Some very steep as we traced a path down under the cable cars. The views during the descent were beautiful with constant panoramas of the lakeside town. My quads were on fire now from all the steep down hills but I kept on running until we stopped descending. A young boy was cheering runners with a loud cowbell. He then ran passed me with his mother and the cowbell cheering her all the way into the aid station.

The aid station was a bit chaotic. It served both the 100km and the 80km races and also acted as an aid station at two different points on the course (we’d now run a loop out of St Gilgen and then back). So there were a lot of runners coming and going. The benefit was we could access our drop bag twice. First here around 50km and then again around 67km. My plan was for a quick stop now and a longer stop on the way back. I grabbed a can of Coke and my drop bag and sat down. I gave myself 10 minutes to refill my tailwind. Eat some of my bars and drink the Coke. I also rubbed some cold gel on my quads and calves. As I left I saw some noodle soup and wished I’d seen it on my way in!

Leaving St Gilgen we ran along the Lake Wolfgang (great name!). It was absolutely beautiful, if a little busy. Loads of tourists out walking but also runners running back against us towards their second pass at the aid station. It was a little demoralising seeing so many 100km runners that we 17km ahead of us.

The incredible Lake Wolfgang, looking back at St Gilgen

I started talking to Marie, a Swedish lady living in Cork I’d met earlier on. We were both enjoying the stunning views that the course had to offer. As we talked we began climbing. I remember thinking how good the trails were. Typical well maintained Western European trails. You know you’re on ‘princess trails’ when there are families with small kids and prams walking the same route!

The climb was broken with a short down hill. I was running again and passing some runners on the 80km route. This was a little buzz and mental pick me up. My toe started hurting from something underneath. It felt like a thorn or something. I was running awkwardly to avoid putting pressure on my toe. After a while I blocked it out. (The next day I found a sizeable splinter stuck deep in my toe through the tape!).

After the down hill we began the big climb. This 10km section (including the last climb and descent) had 1000m of elevation to climb. Most of it now lay ahead. It was a big and slow climb. It was just straight and rocky underfoot. I powered on and hiked steadily. Runners were stopping and resting. I challenged myself to not rest until the aid station at the top. It was very tiring and felt like it would go on for ages. I could here some runners were asking hikers ‘how long to the top’. They were clearly feeling it too. Nearer the top it was rocky and the tired legs had a bit more work to do. I was craving some more coke now and sugar (there wasn’t anything sweet besides chocolate at the aid stations). Every now and then I could hear a mechanical roar further up. Some sort of cable car I thought (it was a tourist train up the mountain). At the top my heart sank when I saw a building way off several hundred metres further up a peak way off in the distance. Thankfully though an aid station was hidden just around the corner and we were not heading all the way up there!

I was glad the climb didn’t continue up to the real summit!

Here the aid station was shit. Perhaps I’m being harsh (it’s 1300m up a mountain, although a very accessible one). But when we arrived it was decimated. There was no coke. Just water or isotonic. And very little food. Just gels and tomatoes left amongst the crumbs of other fruits and biscuits. It was shit. I needed something so took a gel. I then just left in frustration and planned a good raid and feed back at St Gilgen.

It was about 7km down hill back to St Gilgen. It was hard at first with the rocky terrain and gradient but soon the trails became less steep as we ran into the forests and on to switch backs. It was quite quick and I covered the descent and trail back around the lake from st gilgen in around 1 hour 15 mins. I was pleased with how I ran and kept running, passing many runners here.

Back into St Gilgen my frustrations continued. There was no coke here either. I couldn’t believe it. I was nowhere near the back of the pack. So many runners were being deprived of the expected levels of support with food and (non water) drink. I could hear everyone around me asking the same. I reluctantly took a red bull I was offered. I needed something sweet. I also went to get the noodle soup which I had to scrape the barrel for. Hardly any noodles, just the broth water.

I grabbed my drop bag, changed my t shirt, ate some food, refilled my Tailwind and got ready to leave. Maybe 20mins rested. I didn’t want to hang around now. I’d messaged Natalia and saw she’d completed her run in 6 hours! She was hoping for 7 so I was proud of how fast she’d run. It lifted me too at the thought that trails would be good – there were no more big climbs to go now. And I had 10 hours to the cut off. I was confident that 8 should be feasible. The cut off times seemed to be so skewed. I left with 45 mins to the cut off!!

I walked out from St Gilgen as the route took us through the town and up some back streets behind some impressively big houses. There was a steep up hill that was just a few hundred metres along a narrow dirt track skirting the side of a mountain. It led into some beautiful trails that were nice and wide and gently easing us down into some forests and along through beautiful little mountain villages. In no time at all I arrived at the next aid station and to my delight finally they had both coke and soup. I took a cup of both. It was real Coke out of small bottles. Not the sponsored red bull cola. Clearly they’d been out shopping! I was satisfied and energised now.

Leaving here a little more refreshed and buoyed on by the thought of maybe a little over 30km to go. I ran along some roads as the course took us towards the lake. Here scenic undulating gravel tracks took us for a few km around the beautiful lake with its clear water of different shades of blue and green. I wanted nothing more than to stop and dive in to cool off on the evening heat. This feeling intensified at the far end when we reached a popular café/swimming spot with loads of people in the water. Without tempting the dip it had been a consistent section of running and walking when it was slightly uphill.

Evening was starting to set in and the sunlight was dipping as we reached a road crossing. Just after the crossing, a family were outside their house with a hose pipe filling up runners bottles. I took the extra water gladly as despite the evening drawing in it was still very hot. Shortly after we reached another road crossing and began a climb onto a grassy hill. I recalled it from the section maybe 60km earlier after Hof. Hof must be the next stop now! I Remembered the grassy incline, passing through the farm and forests. Then long roads through villages. The old man volunteering was still sitting in the same spot he was many, many hours earlier and still smiling away. I thanked him once more. Shortly afterwards I arrived back into Hof with the now familiar ‘sorry, no coke, just red bull’ response to my request for coke. I moaned silently into another cup of soup. Satisfied I was at least getting some warm food into me. I took my head torch out ready and carried on. 20km to go…

What followed I had ran before. Much of it I don’t remember. Whatever I previously described as wide roads and gravel tracks through forests is probably about as descriptive as my mind would remember anyway! Somewhere in the forest we went differently though. I don’t remember the river crossing over a small grid platform balancing on a barrel from before. It was all very similar from here though with (yep, you guessed it) more forests and roads. We then started climbing again. My run had become a hike as we continued a long climb as darkness set in and the torch light came out.

Up on the hill a glow of an Aid station signalled the next break and the marker for the final 10km. Here at Koppl it was the same old story. The sugar I was craving wasn’t there. I did get a cup of alcohol free Steigel though. That was good enough for a bit of fizz and change in flavour. More soup too. I took ten minutes. The atmosphere was good and the soup piping hot! I steadied myself for the next section knowing there were a few sneaky climbs and descents still to go. I made sure to leave though before I got cold though as, all around me, runners were layering up. But I knew I’d be warm as soon as I started climbing again.

The 10km was split roughly into a 6k and a 4K section. It started with a 150m climb. It was fairly tough going. Single tracks and rocky in parts. We were climbing towards a tower on top of the mountain but wouldn’t get that high, peeling off around the side of the summit. We had incredible views of Salzburg bellow with the orange street lights shining brightly. I led another runner on and we chatted briefly before we started descending. It was steep in the forest and I used gravity to stumble forward slightly quicker than walking pace, excusing myself passed other runners. It was a long rooty down hill that was a little awkward and painful. I was feeling my toe/foot issue now with the constant pain ringing clear. The lower we got the harder it became as the trails became stairs. Steep steps made of wood at uneven angles. It was uncomfortable to traverse at pace. They kept going one after the other. Like death by a hundred steps. I hobbled on, out of the forest and over the train tracks. A small water station marked the end of the first 6km section. It was the home stretch now.

I knew what came next from both the route profile and Paul’s wisdom from his experience 4 years earlier. Now back in Salzburg, the route climbs another 200m up to a building on a hill. Then descends into the heart of town before we cross the river to the finish in old town. I had 30mins to cover the 4km to get a sub 19hour finish. I knew with the climb this wasn’t possible. But I was pleased to now be so close to the end.

I still couldn’t quite understand how/where a 200m hill existed in the city! It was very steep and mostly steps to climb. A right pain and torture after already covering 100km. It was frustrating more so because of the groups of teenagers hanging around up there and smoking. The fresh air smells polluted by the stench.

I reached the castle on the hill and began the slow descent. The trails of rocks and tree roots soon turned into stairs. Of course. The stairs became shallow angled steps closer to the old town and my foot placement became more pronounced. Reaching the bottom we came out onto a street of bars and pubs bustling with Saturday night vibes with loads of people out drinking and enjoying themselves. I walked around the corner and pressed the button to cross the main road onto the bridge and over the river. The green man signalling my safety. I walked the few hundred metres along the river promising myself I’d run what’s left through the old town. One more road crossing and I started jogging again. I was catching people with less than a few hundred metres to go. They were walking through the old town but then started running when I neared them. I’d either have to run faster or drop back to avoid finishing alongside or right behind them. I dropped back and got a clear pass at the finish line.

At the finish I got another alcohol free beer (no coke still) and was given a printed finish line photo. That was a nice touch. I was then directed back to the race office around the corner in the adjacent square to get my drop bag and finishers medal. Here I was also given a frame for the photo. That’s a new one for me! Never had a frame and a photo at a finish line before! I drank the beer then walked back to the hotel. Ready to wash and climb into bed…

I loved this event. Salzburg is a beautiful town and one I’ve wanted to visit for a while. The trails and scenery is beautiful. Overall the organisation was good but if you haven’t sensed it yet, there was a sour taste in my mouth from the aid stations. They were grossly under stocked. Only one aid station in the last 60km had coke and the food was scraps at many. And I was mid pack. With 5 different distances and thousands of runners, they really hadn’t enough food. Given the race is now under the UTMB banner, this isn’t good enough. For fully supported races, they have to provide enough food and water.