race-report – Run With Dai

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!

Never trust Italians

Published on July 13, 2025 by runwithdai1 Comment

Here we go then. The first ‘big one’ and real ultra test of 2025 – the Dolomiti Extreme Trail. 103km of trail running around the beautiful Dolomites. It wouldn’t be my first running adventure in the Dolomites – back in 2019 I ran the Lavaredo Ultra Trail – so when Matt messaged about joining him for the race, part of me thought ‘oh I’ve been there and done that’ but after looking into it I realised the race is in a completely different part of the region. So I was in, ready to explore some more of the beautiful Dolomites.

Leading up to the race, the organisation seemed top notch. There was a plethora of information provided and heaps of services for runners. For example, being in a small town, many runners would be staying in other parts of the valley and a bus service to transport you around, between registration and hotels and to and from the start and finish was provided. This would be great…

We were staying a little further up in the valley in Mareson and I flew in the night before Matt and stayed overnight near the airport in Venice. We rented a car and drove over the day before the race. We checked in to the hotel and were all set to use the bus service to head down and register. The hotel even called the organisers and confirmed the bus schedule for us. We hung around and waited for a bus that never came. The hotel owner’s son very kindly drove us down to the Forno di Zoldo to register. After registering we checked and asked about the buses (and also ‘booked’ our bus back to the town for the start the next evening) and were told ‘oh, the buses aren’t running today’. Despite them being advertised and the schedules being provided to all the hotels and confirmed over the phone a few hours earlier… this was frustrating. It also seemed unclear whether we’d be able to get a bus back in the early hours of Sunday morning when we were likely to finish. But that was a problem for two days time. As we left to find our own way back up the valley, It was at this moment we joked ‘Never trust Italians’. The phrase held true for the whole weekend…

Friday evening we were making our way down to the start line when we were talking to the hotel owner’s son again. He wished us well and said he’d be volunteering at a checkpoint. We didn’t recognise the checkpoint name and after a little discussion it became apparent from him that we’d be doing an alternate route due to high snow levels on the summit. We hadn’t been told this… he also mentioned that 8 out of the 10 years of the event the alternate route had been run (sounds like it is the main route rather than the alternate!). At the start line we confirmed and clarified this with someone from the organisation. With appropriate mental adjustments and re-calculations made, we were set. We left our drop bags off at the dedicated zone and waited for the race to begin. A little while later in the start pen, just a few moments before the race began, there was a medical emergency for a runner and the start was delayed whilst they received medical attention. Then, a little after 10pm we began…

The race began quite quickly. 100s of runners running fast down the wide main road. A gradual decline, the pace was excessive for the first few kms of a 100km mountain race. We were caught up in the moment trying to maintain our place in the pack. We ran down and through the tunnel we drove in through on the way in the day before. The tunnel seemed so much longer on foot! Leaving the tunnel we left the road and hit the trails at Le Bocole. Loads of runners stopped to ‘water’ the piles of gravel and aggregate. Then we had the greatest ever bit of support from a local (I assume) as they rev’d a chainsaw above their head in the darkness of the night “Vrrr Vrrr Vrrr”. It was different and made us laugh and a real talking point!

My memory of the course was a long single track climb that lead to a real dense forest where it was very soft underfoot. The floor was covered with pine needles and bounced and wobbled under our weight. Through the forest we climbed higher and higher in the humid night. It was hot and stuffy. Very hot. Somewhere the trails opened up and we had some enjoyable runnable descending for several kms mixed with a few short technical descents and bottlenecks at each. One technical section had quite a pile up as runners had to cross a fast moving river. Volunteers lit up the river with massive fires and helped ensure we all crossed safely.

The other side of the river led us back up a very steep long climb and back into the humidity of the night. The forests around us smelt so fresh and the night was so peaceful despite the sounds of runners huffing and puffing their way upwards. Once more what went up must come down and so we did once again on an enjoyable descent that was a joy to run down. It lead to the first aid station, a water only stop where we quickly refilled and moved on.

Looking back, this first section was probably one of the easier bits of the course but also gave the first insight into the route. Throughout, and what followed was long and steep, very steep climbs. Each one caught us out and we moved slowly. The terrain however changed and the ground became softer and wetter and harder to move through. A few days of relentless rain and storms had saturated the mountains and made them far muddier than I was expecting. Our pace on the climbs dropped as we moved more slowly. The descents too became rockier and more technical. Gone were the lovely runnable descents we’d first encountered.

As we continued the theme of the night became persistent. It was hot, very hot, yet we were very cold with the sweat of the humid night and gentle breeze. When the mud subsided, it gave way to big rocky sections and boulders to climb up. The combination was exhausting. We ran through forests, passed lakes and broke out into lightly coated snowy trails on the side of the mountains. Despite the steep climbs, we weren’t hitting summits and were skirting around the side of them. As we descended back into forests the day light started to break through the darkness and we could see the shape of the magnificent landscape around us. It was early in the morning and the birds were bringing the music and soundtrack to the trails.

Reminiscing, the trails of the first 50km have all blurred into a series of tough climbs, muddy trails and rocky technical sections. At one point there was a particularly technical descent with a safety rope/chain. Runners were tentatively making our way down when the lead runner of the 50km zipped passed. He flew down, barely touching the ground. No chain or support, no fear. He descended effortlessly and out of sight in the time it took me to cover a few meters of the descent. It was so impressive.

After a few aid stations it became apparent that the information on the distances and tracks between them was a bit… iffy… some aid stations would come around far quicker than expected one was even 3 or 4kms earlier than we thought. We stayed high for a while and had some pathed road sections that climbed between aid stations. After one we could see runners far off ahead going up a ski track. Soon we followed. It was short but steep. Naturally after a while we had to drop the equivalent on a steep descent down.

By now it was close to midday. The temperature had soared and the humidity persisted. I was looking forward to a change into dry clothes and tending to my ‘personal’ needs at the half way mark. It wasn’t long before we were making our way to the half way mark where we’d have our drop bags. It was at a refuge we’d visited in the car the day before. We recognised the trails and we happy to arrive.

The aid station was chaotic. A big marquee was full of runners from the 100km, the 70km and the 50km. Supporters and families of the runners filled the tent and we struggled to find a place to sit down and make space for ourselves. We bunched some others up on a table and also identified a volunteer who was sorting the drop bags. We gave her our numbers and she said she’d get our bags and bring them to the table for us. Great. But this is where things went a bit rogue. Remember, never trust and Italian!

As we set about our ‘break’, we were a bit deflated by the lack of hot food or variation to food at the aid station and settled in for some more of the very bland and tasteless ‘soup’ with some small bits of noodles which had been available at most aid stations. It was by far the worse ‘soup’ I’ve had at a race. We stripped off our wet clothes and sat topless in our pants, sweating away in the busy tent. Time was passing by and we still didn’t have our drop bags. We had to ask again 3 or 4 times over the course of about 20 minutes. The woman kept saying they were coming, she also came a few times to re- ask our numbers. It was irritating. Eventually Matt’s bag showed up. But mine didn’t. God knows how much more time had passed when she started bringing other people’s bags to me. It didn’t make sense. Finally she told me they couldn’t find my bag and to put my shirt on and go look for it myself. Not what I wanted to be doing…

Annoyingly the drop bags were located a little distance away from the marquee. And this is where I could see the problem. It was essentially a human chain, like ‘Chinese whispers’. Volunteers passing numbers verbally between them. Then telling kids who’d run off and collect the bag and return it. No wonder she was bringing the wrong numbers and having to keep asking what was our number. It was just chaotic confusion!

At the bag location the volunteers all spoke little English. One German lady was very helpful and also very traumatised that they couldn’t find my bag. Sadly, regrettably, she was getting the blunt end of my frustration. She was explaining that they didn’t know where my bag was, and suspected it had been sent to the finish line. I could see the pain she was experiencing as her ‘system’ had failed and she couldn’t explain or account for why my bag was there. My issue though was that it was all guesses. I wanted clarity, if they could confirm where my bag was, my mind would be at ease. With a late night finish expected, and an early wake up to drive to the airport, I wouldn’t have the time to go looking for my bag the next day. It took a bit of persuasion from me to get get them to call the finish line and look for my bag. The lady also roped her husband in to translate as he spoke more English (and I spoke no German nor Italian!). This was helpful as the volunteers were planning on getting my bag brought back to the aid station if they found it at the finish! Through him I was able to express that this was not going to be helpful – I was cold from the wet clothes and needed to get moving again. I didn’t have the time to wait for the bag to be found and driven back up the mountain!

I went back to eating and waited a little longer whilst they tried to confirm where my bag was. The man kept providing me updates – it wasn’t at the finish line either, so they suspected it was now in a van on the way to the finish – but it got to the point where we had to leave. We’d been at the aid station for over an hour now. As we left, crossed the road back to the trails, the man came running after us. They’d found the bag, confirmed it was in the van and now at the finish line waiting. I thanked him. At least my mind was at ease now knowing where my bag was.

Despite knowing though, my mind had ‘gone’. For God knows how long I moaned about the experience. Much to Matt’s annoyance, I couldn’t let it go. I moaned endlessly about how it shouldn’t happen, the process had failed, what I didn’t have (my preferred hydration/personal effects etc.), that every runner I recognised that we ran near had changed into fresh clothes and I hadn’t… everything. I just moaned. I made bold statements about the harsh words I’d have with the race organisers at the finish, the regret I had for the frustrated tone I’d spoke to the very helpful lady with etc. for kms after the aid station and throughout the next 50km I moaned and moaned and moaned.

The only flipside was it lit a bit of a fire in me. I was very uncomfortable with chafe, wet itch clothes and worrying about how my energy levels would drop as I’d now be reliant on the horrible soup and weak isotonic drinks at the aid station, so I was pushing us an moving quicker with the single aim of getting it over with as soon as possible. Matt occasionally would have to reign me in and stop me from burning us both out, we did have plenty of time after all!

This first section of the second half the race was a long 11km stretch between aid stations. It was mostly the very familiar gradual climbs through woodlands and dense forests and long dirt gravel tracks. In our minds we would have a course split around this point and no longer have the masses of 70km and 50km runners with us. But our understanding of the course was off and we were ‘in with the masses’ for far longer than we expected. This made the trails busy and frustrating. There was a very long descend on the same terrain down into the next aid station which was in another town in the many valleys of the area. Matt saw an opportunity to visit the town hall and I waited for him at the aid station a little further along the main road. Here I had the cheekiest reminder of my bag drop situation. A volunteer saw my number and said “ahhh, you are the runner who didn’t get your bag / are waiting for your bag”. I said “yes, that is me!”. To which they politely but bluntly stated it wasn’t here either. I had to laugh. It was meant in the most helpful and supportive way, but with the language barrier it came like a slap to the face. Almost like hey you, guess what… I was able to see the funny side of this interaction at least.

After a short break we moved on. We were straight onto a pathed road. It was pretty much following this road for about 5km to the next aid station. Whilst not particularly scenic or enjoyable, the road did bring a bit of a change to the terrain and relieved a bit of the pressure on the feet and ankles which were now very sore and blistering.

At the next aid station we arrived to a mountain hut to the biggest welcome from the Lady running it. In broken English she reeled off all the things she could give us, including “Meat Soup”. She couldn’t understand our excitement when we repeated and clarified that she had soup with meat in it. She was saying everyone was reacting the same and she didn’t know why. We tried to explain how everywhere else the soup was terrible and even the thought of something more substantial was a blessing. Matt took one look at the meat and changed his mind (he did get a coffee, albeit a terrible one, it was the only aid station of the race that had hot drinks!). I took extra meat and enjoyed it with other runners like it was a last supper!

We were soon back out on the course heading to the highest point of the race. We were joined by an American called Paul and spent the next few kms together chatting away. It was a very long and steep climb ibn the forest. One of the biggest of the course. The foliage here was so different to what we’d experienced previously with massive leafy plants covering the ground as we hiked up slowly. The higher we got, the steeper it became. We were leapfrogging with many other groups of runners who we’d spent most of the race near. Eventually the path broke out of the forest and up onto the mountain top. Way off in the distance we could see runners climbing higher and higher. There were many false summits as climbed to a museum on the summit. Around us the clouds were forming, darker and darker and the wind picking up. It was cold and a downpour felt imminent. We knew from here, once we reached the museum we would back track and descend quickly on a road.

There would be no time to stop and enjoy the view, we wanted to get lower before we got caught if the weather was going to change. I did however need to stop as I found a tick on the side of my lower leg. As I sat and tried to get it out I started cramping and needed Matt’s assistance. It was a big one, even with a tick removal tool and Matt pulling hard and me holding my skin tight it was putting up a fight. Then with a loud popping sound it came out. It was the biggest tick I’ve ever seen. Thankfully it came out intact! Matt went on (as it was cold) whilst I re-packed my bag and then ran after him.

It was a long but fast descent. We dropped about 600m over 4 km. First on switch back pathed roads, then switch back gravel trails before into a steep drop in the muddy forest. We made it down though before any weather changes hit us. It was a good mental boost. The afternoon was drawing to a close and before long the sun would start to set. The lower we could get before darkness the better and we were into the last 16 or so kms of the race now with only one more big climb left to do. We had a new mission to get that through before dark and get to lower altitude (below 1,500m) before needing our head torches for the final push.

The climb came and went. It must have been like all the others we’d encountered (the race profile has it as one of the more prominent climbs of the course!) but my memory of it was over shadowed by the descent that came next…

We were about 1,900m up and had to drop about 600m. Way way down below we could see a dried up glacier bed. In it was a tent. It wasn’t an aid station but we guessed some volunteers/mountain support. It was a dot way off below, and we couldn’t see any obvious way down. It looked like we would just be dropping off the side of the mountain somewhere. And so we did. It was a very technical descent. Often we were scrambling on all fours. We were tired and it felt quite dangerous (it absolutely wasn’t though!) in our exhausted state. It was a real bruiser on the fatigued legs and ankles. Day light was quickly disappearing as we navigated our way down, being thankful that we weren’t doing this in the darkness guided only by our head torches. After descending about 600m in 2km we reached the rocky glacier bed. We were so glad that was over! A quick stop and chat with the volunteers and we headed across the rocky terrain into the forest again.

We now had a very short but mighty steep climb in the darkness of the forest. Our watches were telling us the gradient of the climb was over 40%. It was pitch black and we struggled to see and navigate the course through the wall of soil that we faced into. It was a very slow and tiring climb which we were glad to get to the top of. There was a lady as we exited onto some farm land. She gave us conflicting information as to the distance to the next aid station. The volunteers at the Glacier bed, this lady and our own understanding of the course all came up with radically different distances as to the location of the next aid station. it was confusing but ultimately didn’t matter, we had to keep moving forward.

We had another steep descent through dark slippery forest trails. we were moving pretty freely downhill and Matt did a terrific job of navigating through the darkness. Somewhere in front of us we could here a lady’s voice talking away. As we neared Matt could tell she was on the phone speaking Dutch. There was a rocky section navigating over and along a river and we caught up with the lady who was chatting to her dad for company in the loneliness of the forest. Matt could here she was a little uncomfortable on her own and that she’d told her father there were some other people around her now which made her feel safer. Still, we held back a little bit and gave her space. We then found ourselves arriving at a cabin in the forest and the final aid station.

From here we still somehow had 12km to go to the finish. That last section felt so much longer than it was. At the aid station there was more confusion. We believed we still had two climbs on the course before the descent back to Forno di Zoldo. The route profile displayed at the aid station suggested that the aid station was located after these two climbs we thought we had. Another runner and the aid station volunteers were also saying it was all downhill now with no more climbing. It didn’t feel right, but we took their words for it. The lady asked if she could run with us through the forest sections for company and the three of us set off chatting away. I think she was pleased to hear Matt speak Dutch and find out he lived in the Netherlands. It turned out this was her first 100km event (incredible effort!) and her dad was at the finish line waiting for her.

We ran down further back into the dark, dense forests before we found ourselves climbing (yep, we knew it!) on a very long grassy climb. No more climbs my arse! The trails were twisting and turning and our orientation was completely messed up now. We had no idea where we were going and would catch up with other runners who were stopping and checking their navigation. The trail markings were few and far between now and difficult to spot in the darkness. The grassy trail did lead us back up onto the side of a mountain where the terrain quickly become very rocky as we traversed a path around the mountain. To our left a sheer drop in the darkness. We plodded along as quickly as we could move over the rocks, determined to get this over an done with. The enjoyment had left us many hours earlier! I kept moaning “why are there always rocky sections so close to the end of races to torture us?!”. The rocky path then led steeply downhill as we found ourselves heading back into a forest.

We were on it now though. We were hustling with a decent pace as the forest trails become more substantial and gravel tracks started to dominate. We knew that we must be close now and sooner or later we’d hit a main road that would lead us back into the town. Then, it did. In the distance a head torch. It was the Dutch Lady’s father waiting for her. We ran on and were power hiking along a road when he whistled and called after us. We were just about to miss the turn on the road. It was a huge, wide turn but not obvious in the night. The markings were chalk arrows drawn on the road and easily missed in our tired state. Thankfully he was there to ensure we didn’t continue in the opposite direction to the finish!

The road was long and climbed a little as we found ourselves crossing fields and farm land of smaller residential areas behind the main town. Then we could see and here the lights just below us. We rounded the bend and had a few metres to the finish line which we crossed just as the heavens opened and the rain started hammering it down! Damn we were glad that was over!

After the race we collected our Medals (which Matt dropped and broke 5 minutes later), were given a finishers jacket (although similar we later found ours are both different from one another – we suspect different versions/models of the same jacket) and then tried to get a “finishers gift from the sponsors” only to be told there were none left as they’d only provided them for half the runners. As suspected, there was confusion about buses and if any were running (we weren’t the only ones trying to find one) so decided to go have a shower, get into warm dry clothes (thankfully my Drop bag was indeed waiting for me!) and then get some food whilst we figured out how to get back to the hotel. After the shower Matt had his broken medal replaced whilst I went off and found out that there was no more food available (great). The only success was when Matt proactively went and flagged down a bus driver who personally took us back to the hotel.

Looking back… I did enjoy the race and having another adventure in the Dolomites but the experience was dampened by the few organisational mishaps we encountered. Since day one the confusion over the buses left a sour taste in my mouth. The frustration over the drop bag going missing made my run harder than it needed to be and meant I ran with a dark cloud in my head for half the race. The continuation of a poor experience at the finish line just reemphasised how crappy the organisation was. Why they stop serving hot (any!) food when runners are still out on the course and finishing blows my mind. I was also cheesed off that the organisers/sponsors provided some additional ‘gifts’/merchandise for only some runners. The number of gifts seemed to vary from social media posts and information at the finish and it also seemed like volunteers were reserving gifts. Everyone enters and participates in the same way, so to then offer extras on a first come first served basis whilst the race is still happening immediately puts the slower runners at an unfair advantage. Either provide enough for everyone or make it first come first served the day after the finish. I sound bitter, but it is the principle and the frustration of the wider experience I had on the Dolomiti Extreme Trail.

Of the two events I’ve done in the Dolomites, the Lavaredo Ultra Trail is by far the better of the two. Not just because of the experience, but the Lavaredo trail does take you through far more scenic parts of the Dolomites.

Test Way Ultra

Published on April 10, 2025 by runwithdai1 Comment

When I ran the Hangman ultra, the course followed a section of the Testway walking route. I liked it so I looked it up after the race. It runs from Linkenholt down to Totton (just outside Southampton). Soon after I came across the Testway Ultra by Andover Trail Events and added it to the list of things to do.

Darryl signed up to the race with me and we decided to park a car at the the finish so we could make our own way back to the start rather than faff with timings of the shuttle bus service offered. We stayed overnight in Andover (proper shit hole) where we saw things we’d never seen before. A very odd place. On the morning of the race we drove over to the Linkenholt Activity Centre for about 7:30. After a straightforward registration we sat in the car to keep and waited until everyone started lining up just before 8 before joining them. The morning had a bitterly cold chill to it with a crisp wind blowing hard.

The first 10miles of the route was a loop out of the Activity Centre and up over to Combe Hill where the Combe gibbet is. I remembered this well from the Hangman Ultra where the gibbet was the ‘turnaround’ point. There were a few small hills on this loop and we quickly racked up pretty much all of the elevation of the course before the first aid station when we arrived back at the Activity Centre.

We stopped briefly to eat some cocktail sausage and empty a few small stones from my shoe. On leaving the aid station we re-joined the Test Way and followed it south to Longparish. I knew this whole section from the Hangman Ultra too. We’d pass through little villages, farms, up a few little climbs and follow single track footpaths along the top of the hills.

There was another aidstation after about 10 more miles where we ate more cocktail sausages (if you’re not a meat eater, the aid stations on this event aren’t designed for you!) and carried on to Longparish. I kept recognising points of interest that triggered memories and recalled the section arriving into Longparish. We carried on through and upon leaving the village we got chatting to two guys who’d arranged an ‘unofficial, bonus’ aid station outside their house. They had all sorts including pizza. This was by far the best of all the aid stations. We stocked up when they told us it was still about 5 miles to the next official aid station. So this section was the longest of them all. We needed the bonus stop as it was now very hot, almost 20 degrees and we were starting to drink a lot more fluid that need been used to in the colder weeks preceding the race.

Leaving Longparish we had a few miles of very scenic trails with more beautiful villages, countryside trails and open commons. Eventually we came to the next aid station, joked with the volunteers for a few minutes and fuelled up for the ‘second half’ of the race. The 30 miles we had so far covered had been varying in terms of terrain and undulating throughout. The next 20 miles would be pretty much dead flat the whole way to the finish line.

After a few kilometres we came into Stockbridge and joined a straight gravel track running parallel to the main road and river. It was hard going. We covered about 12 miles on this path breaking it up into a run walk strategy. Our legs ached and our muscles were tightening with the lack of variation and general fatigue setting in.

For hours we had been entertaining ourselves with a guessing game. One of us would think of an actor and the other had to guess using nothing but clues based on films they had been in and characters they had portrayed. By now we were both struggling and finding it hard to think of actors or mixing up clues and characters. It passed the time for many hours and kept us going though!

Thankfully we did leave the gravel track and spent a short while running on softer ground through grassy fields before reaching another aid station. Here I managed to knock a whole box of brownies and flapjacks onto the floor. I felt so bad. We didn’t hang around long after that! Whilst at the aid station a load of runners came in shortly behind us. It messed with my mind a bit. I felt like we’d had a strong section and hadn’t seen many other runners. Whilst on the gravel trail, then all of a sudden loads passed us and I felt a bit deflated. Darryl was right though, it made no difference to us nor our adventure. For a while we followed two other runners, One in red and one in purple. We enjoyed Their little battle and followed closely as they kept leapfrogging each other for a few miles. We were all shuffling and walking now. There wasn’t any speed involved!

Thankfully the trails were much nicer once we’d left that dreaded gravel path behind. We followed single track trails through fields, woodlands and alongside the rivers all the way down to Romsey and the M27. Here we had a final aid station which we knew was only a few miles to the finish. It was a good boost. We were exhausted now, sun kissed from the exceptionally warm weekend and drained from the flat terrain. We plodded on.

the boardwalk at the Lower Test Nature Reserve

After red top guy missed a turn we found ourselves in-between him and the purple top guy. There were some overgrown bramble covered trails as we made our way onto the Lower Test nature reserve and ran over the boardwalk and into Totton. Once we got through Testvale park we were clapped into the finish line as we ran around the library and into the finish at Empire Hall. We took a picture by the bins before heading back to the car, getting changed and driving all the way back to the start to collect the other car.

It was an enjoyable day on the Test Way and great as always to catch up with Darryl, push the body on a 50mile run and enjoy and experience somewhere new. The organisation was good and the course exceptionally well marked.

Chilterns Ridge

Published on November 21, 2024November 21, 2024 by runwithdaiLeave a comment

Every now and then I get that itch. There’s space in my life when one running adventure ends and the next isn’t planned or any time soon. I get restless. I need something no matter how small to fill the gap.

Earlier in the year I’d seen this gap coming and noticed that the Winter Chilterns Ridge 50km by Runaway Racing was organised to fit nicely around this time. I mentioned it to a few others, but ended up signing up alone. I did a Runaway Racing event many years ago, the Eden Valley, which I loved. So knew this would be a great and well organised event.

It was an early wake up to get to Berkhamsted for about 7:30, giving time to register and get ready for the 8am start. After registering, whilst pinning my number on I saw a few familiar faces. First Mark, one of the Shannon brothers and then Jay and Cat. We had a brief chat before Chris from Runaway Racing set us off on our way.

We started off with a punchy little climb of about 50m or so as we left the cricket club, which to be honest, took the breath out of me. I’m not sure what it was, but I immediately felt ‘unfit’. I think it was the brisk, cold morning and initial stampede of runners which I got caught up in leaving the start line. Thankfully it went straight back down hill and I soon found a better rhythm and pace to settle in to.

The route was delicious. We started out in fields and then weaved our way through lush forest trails making our way towards Tring. Here the paths opened up into the hilly countryside and we were presented with the early morning views. Tring can be a bit lumpy at times, but the route avoided some of the bigger climbs available. The participants started to spread out a little as we followed the undulating trails before hitting the first aid station. We were about 18km in by now and I was quite peckish (breakfast around 5am was a long time ago!). I stopped for a fair bit and scoffed down plenty of Jaffa cakes, crisps, sweets and party rings. Love a party ring! I briefly saw Jay and carried on.

From here we passed through Tring and joined some forest trails that would take us through Tring Park and over to Wendover. This section was all quite new to me. I’ve run a few times in both Tring and Wendover but never the bit in between. We’d run on both the Ridgeway and Chilterns Way paths. I really enjoyed this section. It started with a big hug from Zuzana who was volunteering and I hadn’t seen since this time last year when we ran the Yorkshire 3 Peaks together. I spent a bit of time running with Jay and another runner who we kept leap frogging with. The chatty miles through crisp forests with trails covered in golden leaves was refreshing. We had a nice long uphill section and eventually came to a fork in the paths where we split off to run downhill to the second aid station at Wendover. After more fuelling it was a brisk hike back up the hill to the fork and off in the other direction.

Most of this next section I ran alone as the field spread out more. Jay had stormed ahead before the second aid station and I just couldn’t keep up. With 30km done I was aching and my left ankle was quite sore (I rolled it on a run the week before). I tried to block it out and walked any inclines and tried to take it easy and maintain a decent pace. Somewhere here I caught up with a runner who was hobbling through cramp. He reassured me he was fine and then we both laughed as I cramped up as soon as I passed him. I made a note to take on some salts at the next aid station! Approaching Wiggington there was a very long straight section through forests that led us into the final aid station. I took time to keep fuelled and stuffed plenty of salty crisps into my gob, rearranged my back pack and set off on the last 10km to the finish.

There was a nice long, gentle downhill section before we steadily climbed up hill for about 2km. I walked this and tried to hold back some energy for the rest of the route which would mostly be downhill to the finish line back at Bekhamsted Cricket Club. We had some undulating trails alongside fields and through more forests. My mind started to question where the finish was as we’d run down the hill we climbed at the very start. I couldn’t figure it out, I was wondering where in the distance that hill would be, before suddenly realising I was already on it, half way down! I picked up the pace and ran the last few corners a little harder, into the cricket club and across the finish line.

I went inside, grabbed my bad and saw Jay and the other runner I’d shared some miles with. I darted straight inside for a shower and to warm up. It was the coldest shower of my life! I was shaking trying to get my clothes on afterwards. But I felt so much better for it. I went of to get some Pizza, but frustratingly they’d already run out, so instead headed straight for the train and began the journey home.

Just like my last experience on the Eden Valley ultra, this was a great event organised by Runaway Racing. Really high quality organisation!

One-eyed Willie, B&Q man and the Bum-bag boy

Published on October 27, 2024 by runwithdai1 Comment

This year, I took on the challenge of the Lakes in a Day ultra marathon – 50 miles of rugged terrain, iconic peaks, and unpredictable weather, tracking from Caldbeck in the North of the Lake district to Cartmel in the South. The Lake District threw everything it had at us, and yet, the rewards were, unsurprisingly immeasurable…

I ran the race with Paul, Darryl, Matt, and Matt Buck. Paul and Darryl have both run the race in previous years and were the instigators for this adventure. They took great pleasure in the weeks leading up to the event to scare us with stories of the weather conditions we could expect and recalling their previous experiences.

We travelled up to the Lake District on the Friday, collecting Matt from Manchester airport on the way and stayed over in a converted, large (stately?) home in Grange-Over-Sands just outside of Cartmel. We had some questionable moments in the accommodation that seemed almost supernatural. I had great fun gamifying this and turning random lights on and off to play tricks on the others. I was easily entertained.

The night before the race, we had a pub meal near by and then headed to Cartmel to register at the local school, where the race would finish the following day. The registration area was buzzing with energy as runners queued in the cold outside, eager to register for the adventure ahead. We went through registration and kit checks, ensuring we had all the mandatory gear (although the checks seemed to be on random participants not everyone), and collected our trackers. The excitement was palpable, though there was also a tinge of nervousness in the air as we left.

On race morning, we were awake way before dawn to drive back to Cartmel to get the bus to the start. The bus ride to Caldbeck was filled with chatter and laughter as runners were squeezed into a coach that could sit 5 people per row (a new one on me). There was a very amusing and memorable moment when one runner, sitting at the back with Paul, joked about some runner he had seen carrying a “bum bag,” poking fun at the size of the pack he was carrying his mandatory kit in. We burst into hysterics as he didn’t know that the ‘bum bagger’ happened to be Paul (and we love making fun of his bum bag!). The humour lightened the mood, even though it was cold and dark in the early hours. It also meant Darryl avoided much of the stick for his highly fluorescent orange attire that made him look like he worked in B&Q!

After getting off the bus, as we waited in the rain for the race to start, I bumped into Andrew, an old colleague I hadn’t seen in years. It was a surreal moment of briefly reconnecting, though I never saw him again during the race. He had a fantastic race, finishing hours ahead of me with a very impressive time. Back at the start line, with minutes to spare, the race director briefed us on the course, safety and expectations of runners. Then, without notice, he started counting down from 3 and started the race.

The first major climb up to High Pike was long, wet, and shrouded in mist. We started on a few kilometers of road as we weaved through Caldbeck and then joined the trails. A huge snake of runners lining up on the trail. Here the visibility was low, and the trail was slick. The wet ground and steep climb was an indication of the journey ahead. Slowly we climbed higher and higher in single file as morning fought its way through the darkness. The rain eased but the wind kicked in the higher we climbed. In the mist the trig point of High Pike slowly came into view. Up top the wind battered us and we set off to conquer the undulating fells ahead. After a while we were ready to descend. Thankfully on this side of the fells we had a little shelter from the wind. The rain coats remained on though, keeping us warm and protected. The descent on single-track paths was a welcome relief. They were very runnable and for the most part on clearly defined paths at a steady gradient. The path led us down to the river crossing, which, to my surprise, was lower than in previous years – making for a smoother crossing. Paul and Darryl began to tell us how bad it was previously. The rest of us continued to make fun and count how many times they mentioned it! As we crossed over, volunteers were standing in the river to help guide runners across safely.

Next came the long ascent to Blencathra. It was bigger than the previous climb and was slow going – our legs already heavy from the initial climbs and soggy ground. We weaved our way up muddy gullies which made getting a grip and pushing off difficult, even with big lugged fell shoes on. The higher we climbed the more the fells dried out but the more the wind started to pick up and batter us again. Up top more trig stones came into view as we pushed on, head down fighting against the head on winds. Volunteers cheered us to the summit and wished us well for the descent down Halls Fell into Trekhold. Here runners who didn’t feel confident on the ridge could divert down to Trekhold via the less technical Blease Fell.

The ridge line descent of Halls Fell into Threkhold was exhilarating. It lived up to the hype from Paul and Darryl’s’ stories. The clouds had cleared and the views were breath-taking, but the terrain was challenging. It is a ridgeline stretching for a few hundred metres as you descent on sharp and slippery rocks. Volunteers were placed at a few points to ensure participant safety and a photographer perched on more stable ground slightly below. We traversed the ridge and the rocky descent down into Trekhold and the first of three aid stations.

The aid stations on the course are quite something. You hear about them from other runners (Did I mention Paul and Darryl had done the race before?) and you get an itinerary of the available foods at each station in the pre-event emails. This one was great. Full of fresh sandwiches of multiple varieties, an endless amount of cakes (including good ol’ swiss rolls) and pastries and more sweets and chocolates than I could name. We took some time to fill our bellies, knowing that it would be a long time until we ate substantially again (the next section is almost 30km long, mostly on top of the fells). We laughed as Matt (Buck) traversed the food tables filling up an A4 size ziplock bag with food like he was intending on never returning into society again. We then left pretty abruptly as we started to get cold, even inside the aid station.

We ran a few fairly flat kilometers as we left Trekhold. First on roads leaving the village, then footpaths crossing the main road and back out towards the trails. After which the tarmac gave way to wet boggy ground again near the quarry. Leaving the aid station it started raining heavily and we were already soaked through before reaching the trails. Starting the climb towards Clough Head I had a few niggles that were concerning me. My left foot was in pain around the metatarsals and I loosened my shoe laces several times to try a release the pressure a bit. But also I’d noticed that I’d begun to loose sight in my right eye. This is an experience I’d faced twice before, once on the Tea Round in the Lake District and the second time in Norway on the Lofoton Ultra Trail 100. On both occasions in similar gloomy weather conditions. At this point there was nothing I could do about it and I knew it would get worse before it got any better.

As we continued towards Clough Head, the trail took a sharp and sudden incline towards the summit. We could see the odd runner with high visibility clothing climbing along the side of the mountain. As we too reached the climb it was apparent just how cold and wet it now was – I had three pairs of gloves on which, together with the weather conditions was making it difficult to eat and drink to maintain fuelling. We climbed in almost silence as the wind also made it hard to talk and hear each other. Increasingly we were spreading out and I couldn’t see Paul or Matt (Buck) anymore ahead of me.

Once on top we covered about 10km of undulating trails, crossing the ‘Dodds’ towards Hellvelyn. The trails led us up and down various climbs, each with different terrain and challenges. The ground was a mixture of wet, muddy bogs, defined paths and more rocky sections. It took a while and I was glad of the company of Darryl and Matt, even though we could still barely hear each other as we tried to talk. Only as we neared Hellvelyn the rain did ease up and the clouds started to clear. We could see Hellvelyn way off in the distance now, but first had the rocky, difficult climb to get there. I feel that the wind picked up even more here and I personally found it hard going to keep walking in a straight-line. I was walking almost diagonally, head down, to keep on track and every time I lifted my poles they would be blown to the side. It was a good, but unwelcomed, core workout!

It was nice to reach Hellvelyn as it was only the second time I’d been there and this time we would descend in a different direction from my previous trip. We now headed off towards Grisdale Tarn and Ambleside. The steep descent to Grisdale Tarn wasn’t an enjoyable relief from climbing. The wide pathed path was wet and slippery and I took to running the steeper trails that ran along side them. This caused my foot and ankle to hurt but felt like a safer way to descend down for me. We crossed over to the other side of the tarn and followed the descent with a steep ascent straight back up towards Fairfield. I don’t think we could have climbed any more slowly. Our legs, which were already aching, were now pelted by a painful hailstorm that stung our bare skin. It didn’t relent the whole time we climbed and our legs were red by the end of it. My eyesight had indeed deteriorated and I made sure Matt and Darryl both knew I had some issues seeing. I estimated that in my right eye I was down to about 10% visibility now. It was all blurry and I could make out shapes close to me, but not distinguish colours or the human form! With both eyes open this affected my overall visibility, so from time to time I’d try and close the right eye. I was reluctant to take any further action though until I reached the next aid station.

Once we’d climbed to Fairfield it was quite rocky in places as we crossed straight over the horseshoe. I really wish I could have stopped and taken pictures as the clouds had once again dispersed and we could see some amazing views. There was no way I was faffing with my gloves and phone in the high winds though.

The next section to Ambleside was a bit of a drag. Matt had vanished from my (admittedly limited) vision and Darryl stuck with me throughout this section to make sure I was ok, helping me navigate the best paths along Fairfield and down into Ambleside. Here it was quite rocky in places and his support made a significant difference calling out objects as I struggled a little with my depth perception. I’m grateful for his presence during those tough moments.

After a few kilometers we did catch back up with the others and for the first time for hours were together again as a group as we continued down and into Ambleside, running through the streets of the town to the next aid station. Like Trekhold before it, we were welcomed by amazing volunteers and huge amounts of food including pizzas, hot soups, pastas and warm drinks. But first though, a change of shoes…

At Ambleside we were allowed a bag with just a pair of trainers and socks for the second ‘half’ of the race. We would now no longer go up high on the fells, so a change into less aggressive trail shoes was most appreciated. My feet were begging for a change and I was relieved to swap my fell shoes for more comfortable trail shoes, which made a noticeable difference for the next section and certainly made my left foot feel better. It was very organised if not a little limiting in the aid station. When you arrive you are shuffled into a dedicated area for changing your shoes. You either have to change your shoes straight away or take little protection covers on your shoes to enter the area with food and seating. I would have liked to have sat with my shoes off for a few minutes whilst I ate.

After a decent stop and plenty of food, we regrouped and left Ambleside together with our head torches out ready for the night to begin. As I promised myself, I ‘did something’ about my eyesight. The only fix I have is to wear a buff diagonally across my head to force the eyelid to stay closed. I’ve found from experience that having the eye closed not only improves my overall sight, but gives the eye a chance to rest and recover. ‘One-eyed Willie’ Darryl called me as we reminisced about the Goonies.

We now had a much more manageable ’14 mile’ section that include some roads and lots of small undulating trails. There were a few noticeable climbs but none of any significance. We ran and walked along the road sections, weaving on and off the paths that ran alongside and connected the trails. We passed a few runners and a few runners passed us too. For now though, as darkness set in, we were very much ‘in our place’ in the mid pack of the field of runners. On the single tracks and forests we mostly ran in two groups. Those in a ‘three’ and two behind. From time to time we’d switch places and conversations. My self and Matt (Buck) chatting away mostly whilst the others continued with the usual word games to distract and fight off the fatigue. As always it was a fun way to bond and keep our spirits high and so nice to be able to talk to each other again with out the wind.

We covered the ‘flatter’ part of this section quite quickly and soon overcame the largest climb of the second half which was mostly on country lanes, a refreshing change! From here we navigated back to the footpaths running along side Lake Windermere. The water was glistening in the moon light. We were quite fortunate as we continued through the night that it was mostly dry apart from a few short showers. The wind had also significantly dropped at the lower altitude so we weren’t too cold (the rain coat and 3 pairs of gloves stayed on throughout though!). At one point, in a long forest section, there was a surprisingly steep forest climb that caught us all out. It was frustratingly tough despite how short it was, we lumbered up the steep steps and climbed and slipped in the wet and muddy earth. We were all relieved to get over that one!

This whole section just dragged on. The darkness made it feel so much longer and tougher than it was and our feet were cold and drenched from wet, boggy paths near the lake. I moaned a lot (as I always do) as each stone, tree branch and rock caused my feet to react in pain. There was definitely some trench foot and blistering going on, but nothing I would do now until we finished. I just had to suck it up and put it to the back of my mind. Throughout this section the buff and eyesight was irritating me and I constantly needed to make adjustments to keep it comfortable.

We came across the final aid station at Finsthwaite around 23:00. The sight of a dry, warm and well lit aid station was so welcomed. By now I was out of water so was ready for some refreshments! I removed my buff as I entered the aid station and was happy to confirm that, with some rest, my eyesight has started to comeback. I could now make out the human form and brighter colours so was confident it would recover completely before the race was over. The volunteers were absolutely top here, the lovely ladies and gents inside entertaining the crowds of runners sitting in the warmth. Endless amounts of warm food was leaving the kitchen directly into the hands of waiting runners. Melted cheese on ham and toast a particular favourite. One lady was calling out variations of soups and warm rice puddings and custards that they could prepare. After a few warm soups I did take a “boring” plain rice pudding which was delightful.

We did sadly have to eventually leave the comforts and complete the remaining 7 miles. The last 7 miles were a little more lumpy as we made our way towards and over Newby Bridge and Speelbank. Unlike the lakeside and forest trails before, we spent more time here on tarmac roads, fields and low hills. We pretty much walked this entire section as a group. Certainly I had no inclination to put any effort into running anymore (not that I had much for the previous 10 miles either!). Throughout, with less tree coverage here, we had great views of the spectacular large and orange moon. Eventually we emerged onto what we were certain was the last road. Albeit we’d be on this stretch of road for a few kilometres. First completing the final climb, then the long straight descent towards Cartmel. Somewhere here the road flattened out and we had 2kms left to run. We ran passed the carpark and ‘racecourse’ where other runners would be camping for the night. We were all so glad that we’d found a parking space in the town near the school and didn’t have to hobble all the way back out here later on.

Onto the last stretch we could see the school lights up ahead. We walked to that finish line ever so casually, most of us with our hands in our pockets (keeping them warm) and barely managing a smile for the photo finish.

The finish line was brilliant. The photographer took loads of photos of us and we were relieved of our trackers and given tokens to get a warm meal. The food van had many variations of chips to satisfy our hunger (I went for the chilli on chips option). Inside we sat and ate, then changed into some warm and drier clothes for the drive home. Back at the haunted house, we showered and very quickly drifted off into a well deserved sleep!

Lakes in a Day 2024 was the furthest I’ve ever run in one go in the Lake District, and certainly the toughest run I’ve ever faced there. But every gruelling climb, every gust of wind, and every drop of rain was worth it. From the challenging weather to the glimpses of views to the camaraderie of fellow runners, this race will forever be etched in my memory. Already, I’m looking forward to planning the next adventure.

On the subject of eyesight, I’m not worried at this stage (and hence the calmness I had during the race – admittedly the first time I experienced it a few years back I was pretty freaked out!). There are many documented events of participants in endurance events experiencing loss of sight and similar symptoms. There are even quite a few publications on the topic of ‘Ultramarathon Associated Visual Impairments’. This article is particularly informative – https://www.irunfar.com/vision-loss-in-ultramarathons-looking-at-the-research and explains known links to Corneal Edemas, which results in painless clouding of vision due to stresses (like altitude, cold, dehydration, debris, wind, etc.). Interestingly, there are known links to refractive surgery which, yep, I had a few years ago! Anyway, it is on the list to discuss for next time I get my eyesight checked out…

Big Knuckles

Published on September 27, 2024September 27, 2024 by runwithdaiLeave a comment

Many years ago I signed up to a race in Bulgaria, the Wild Boar Ultra, but due to travel restrictions (remember those Covid years…) I never made it to Bulgaria. Fast forward to 2024 and I was finally travelling to Bulgaria, with a group of friends, for a different race, the Pirin Ultra. Specifically the 66km ultra race. As part of the event there are different distances including the very wild 100 mile race and the very technical 38km ‘Extreme’ race. The pictures and videos of the Extreme 38km race dominate the advertising for the Pirin Event. It looks incredible, but a little terrifying too with very long ridge sections and strict entry and participation criteria. The 66km is probably the tamest of the events on offer, but tough in its own way. So we all signed up to the same race.

Our adventure began on Friday in Sofia with plenty of food and a little sight seeing on foot on Saturday morning. I say ‘little’ as it is not somewhere I thought there is a great deal to see. I’m being ignorant to the history and culture of Sofia but I honestly thought the city was just ‘meh’. We’d rented some cars and made our way to Bansko for Saturday evening where we we instantly realised there was plenty more to see and enjoy there. We began to get excited that, soon enough, we’d all be running around the Pirin mountain range.

Our evening was a little time pressured as we arrived in town just before 6pm, checked into the hotel then headed straight for registration and then dinner. Registration was smooth with a full and thorough kit check, but disappointingly a ‘ravaged’ participant pack with left over sized tee shirts and no ‘freebies’ that had all gone. We faffed a bit finding somewhere suitable to eat (only so much meat and ‘Big Knuckles’ could be handled pre-race!) and were back at the hotel for 10pm with not much time to pack and get ready for the early wake up call.

Just before 6am on a bitterly cold morning we were checked into the race starting pens with our trackers attached and activated. We had a short but chilly wait until we were given the signal to begin our adventure and we, along with about 230 other runners, found ourselves running through the cobble streets of Bansko in the direction of the main road through the town. Once on it, we followed the road up toward the mountains. Very early on Carl and I stopped to take our jackets off as we started heat up and instead of running started walking.

The route of the 66km race would see us make three ‘chunky’ climbs to different peaks. The first about 1500m, the second 1300m and the third a more modest 900m. Of course between each we’d need to descend too. So basically the course went ‘up’, ‘down’, ‘up’, ‘down’, ‘up’ and ‘down’ again like some computer cheat code from the 90s’. This did mean though that it would be easy for us to keep track of where on the route we were at any point!.

The first climb was the longest and, over 15km, took us up the main road then into some forests before we started ascending on the mountain. On the road we’d already removed a layer as it was hot, but in the forest we began to feel the icy morning cold quite quickly in the shade of the trees. At this point I was with Carl and Ale, Vanna and Gif were just behind us and further up ahead were Reka and Jon. The morning grew lighter but colder as we slowly climbed, passing a few parking spots and ski resorts. I refrained from layering up but made sure I would do so at the first aid station which we reached after about 10km.

At the aid station I did just that, adding arm sleeves and gloves. My fingers were numb and took a little while to warm up, I was so glad to have the Montane Prism gloves though as they were a bit thicker and warmer. Prior to the race I had heard that the aid stations were ‘crap’ on this event and now I had the first sample of the limited options available. It was crap, but at 10km in I wasn’t bothered and I ate a few pieces of bread with tomato paste spread on them. Different to what I’ve encountered before, but it did the job and satisfied my early morning hunger.

Whilst at the aid station we’d all regrouped with the exception of Jon who was gone. Reka, Carl, Ale and I all then left together as the route first continued into the forest and then left the mountain roads behind as we made our way onto the mountain. We made a very small wrong turn but were soon back on track and pausing to look back at the incredible sunrise back over Bansko. The ground around us frosty and glistening as the sunshine started to fight its way through and break the darkness of the morning. As the sun light hit us we instantly warmed, it was a great feeling. We ran along side some rivers and could see the ridge lines that the 38km route would take (the more technical course) on the other side of the mountain range. The trails smelt beautiful with local herbs (I forget what we were told they were, but similar to lavender) dominating the air and I was amazed how silent it was as we climbed higher and higher. It was truly surreal and peaceful. As we began to climb the steeper, rockier section to the first summit we found ourselves behind a blind runner with his guides. I was amazed. It’s incredible that this man was able to navigate this terrain without sight. There were rocks everywhere as we clambered over boulders and rocky paths, yet he was moving with a quick pace. We were in complete awe (we later found out he’s very experienced endurance athlete for many disciplines. What a remarkable man!).

Once we summited the views were spectacular. 360 degree panoramic views with mountains all around us as far as we could see in all directions. In front of us the descent was pleasant looking as we’d now traverse along the side of the peaks. Carl started running and the rest of us couldn’t keep up. Before we knew it he was a spec in the distance getting further and further away. Reka, Ale and I ran a fair bit and passed many hikers out on the trails who’d woken early to enjoy the sunrise. At the end of the path there was a sharp turn and we began to descend. The first climb was over and now it was time for the first descent. Here we met a runner from the 100 mile route who’d started the morning before us. He stuck with us as we moved swiftly down the mountain path and into the forests below.

We were moving well and passed a load of runners in the forest as we followed the trail markings down. Ale was setting the pace despite his struggles and not feeling well. When Ale isn’t enjoying the down hills you know something isn’t right with him! The forests we ran through were dense and lush with pine needles covering the floor and the sunlight squeezing its way through the gaps in the tree tops. As we neared the bottom there were streams and the trails were a little wet and muddy in parts. Overall though the descent was smooth. I remembered thinking this was a very kind way to descend from a summit at 2,600m. It was no where near as rocky as the ascent was. I was relieved. On the way down we passed a a tap and quickly filled another bottle and then had a short gentle incline on a wide gravel track before we finished descending. We’d now done the ‘first’ mountain and had two more to go…

As quickly as that we were climbing again. We reached a small collection of (massive!) houses in the forests as the gravel track became an asphalt road and, after a short climb on the road, entered the forests once more. The start of the climb was rocky and steeper than the first climb we’d done. The three of us were now spread out a little and I found myself alone with my head down focusing on the terrain and climb. It was warm and sweaty but far more comfortable than the cold from hours earlier. This section to the second aid station was the longest part of the course at 19km. I’d filled a third bottle at the first aid station and was so glad we found the extra tap along the way. I was drinking plenty as I pushed up the climb. After a while of lunging over large boulders as we climbed through the forest there was a break in the treeline and the next aid station appeared – the Begovista hut. It seemed large but wasn’t really. There were two tables set up outside for runners (although you could go inside I didn’t). The spread was the same as the previous aid station – salami, goat cheese, bread with tomato paste, bread with chocolate spread, Turkish delight, banana and cucumber with as much salt as you wanted. Annoyingly the water was all in big (15L) containers that were difficult to tip and fill yourself (and no one was helping). I filled my bottles and then sat and ate some bread and chocolate. They’d already run out of coke at the aid station which was annoying as I was looking forward to some sugar! As I was sitting, Reka soon came in followed by Ale who was determined to stop here. This seemed inevitable and he’d been talking about it for a while so I was not going to try and convince him otherwise. I offered to stay with them both but ended up leaving alone.

By this point we’d climbed less than half of the total elevation of second climb and still had close to 900m to go. The rest of the climb was a lot harder than before. We started weaving through the dense forests, which was a little more tricky to navigate (I thought the course marking was a little sparse here) and the climb was much, much steeper and rockier. It took more effort to push up with a consistent pace and I was definitely moving more slowly. After what felt like an eternity we emerged from the trees, high up on the mountain side with more incredible views all around. The mountain started to flatten out a little and we navigated across it through low level bushes with no clear path. In the distance I could see the real summit with the outline of runners making the way up and onto it. It was slow progress crossing the mountain and starting the climb which was all off track. The flag markings were clear but there was no defined way to follow them without a track, so I just headed in the most direct way I could. The higher we went, the more rocky the ground became. We climbed the last 300 or so meters over a few kms.

There was a short ridge line section with a sheer drop to our left but a spectacular view looking back over the mountain range we’d ascended a few hours earlier. To our right the drop was much more gradual and there was a path to follow. Along the path I went enjoying the views and wondering where the sounds of people were coming from. It soon became clear as we started to descend quite sharply along a boulder section and the voices could be heard from below. The little scramble caused my legs to wobble a little as we traversed a few 100m using all fours to descend. Once down, we turned back and would begin the big descent off the mountain and down to the next aid station.

The descent was quite fast. Pretty much all of it was off track and straight down. It was steep, but doable at a good pace. I fast walked as the rocks persisted and moved more quickly with a jog when the ground allowed. I felt good and found myself overtaking runners, skipping over lumpy tuffs of ground, streams and large boulders that were now more sporadically scattered over the mountain. The further down we went we ran back into forests. Here we crossed many streams and in places the track was quite slippery and a little muddy too. I was so glad it was a beautiful day with dry conditions for the run. It wasn’t too steep in the forest and I was able to maintain a run and navigate the terrain without too much difficulty passing more and more runners along the way. We broke free of the forest and onto a dirt track, rounding a bend to the delight of the third aid station which marked the end of a 10km section that took over 3 hours. It was definitely harder than the first climb! I’d now covered about 40km and two of the three climbs so was ready to enjoy a quick break…

I hated this aid station though and it wasn’t the rest I needed or wanted. As soon as I walked in the smell of cigarettes hit me. It was like a wall of filth slapping me in the chops. There were people sitting and smoking in the hut. The section of the hut segregated for the runners was small and cramped and the foul smell of smoke lingered above the food. The small space presented the same food offerings on two tables and two more tables for runners to sit/eat. The tables were wet and dirty and I contributed to the mess by spilling more water when trying to fill my bottles from the big 15L containers. I took a few minutes to drink and eat but desperately wanted to leave as quickly as I could. I found Bulgaria as a whole on this trip quite unpleasant because of the attitude to smoking. It’s culture and behaviour is stuck in the past with smoking allowed indoors and people inconsiderately chain smoking every and anywhere. I found it very off putting. In this environment it’s not something I want to encounter. I’m out enjoying nature and pushing my physical and mental capacity enough without the intrusion of other people’s disgusting habits. So I swigged some Coke, filled a third bottle of water and left quickly.

The next section began with a short stint back in the forests before what I dubbed as the valley of 1000 cows and 100 streams as the third climb started far more moderately that the previous two. Through the valley we hiked pretty much in a straight line for probably about 7 kilometres. There were vague paths and sporadic marking that we roughly followed in a straight line. The vague path that had been eroded in places and was narrow and difficult to stay in without tripping over your own feet, so I found myself hopping from side to side along the edge of the path. All along this section were cows grazing, loads of them. Some small and skinny some large and healthy. A few had calves and some had horses for company or dogs guarding them. None of them were phased or bothered by the runners though. At one point a large cow came out of the trees directly in front of me and looked quite shocked to see me walking towards her. They were all very placid.

The navigation through the valley also meant crossing loads of small streams back and forth. I was quite surprised how wet wet and boggy in places it was, although I shouldn’t be with the majestic mountains on either side of me! For the most part I managed to keep my feet dry and kept pace with the runners ahead and behind me. Along this section I started talking to a Bulgarian, David, who we’d been leaping frogging each other for a few kms. We chatted away and wondered together where the valley was taking us. Up ahead the peaks came more and more into view and it started to become a guess as to how we’d be making our exit from the valley. The valley started to gradually disappear and the higher we climbed, the larger and more prominent the mountain peaks became. However we would exit was going to be tough! Eventually you could see the runners climbing to the left, little dots on the side of the mountain. The marshy grassland became drier and the rocks and boulders started to appear again. After part of the climb we passed a lake with incredible reflections and then began to turn towards a saddle in the mountains, this was our exit route. It looked steep. The closer we got the clearer it became, we’d be climbing a rock slide to escape!

I don’t think this section was as bad as it looked. Really it wasn’t that long, although it was fairly steep. The main problem was that my body was tired. We’d done probably close to 4000m of vertical gain by now so my legs were understandably fatigued. So this last push required some hard graft and deep breathes. We climbed around the side of the rocks to the right, pretty much straight up and then traversed the rock slide to the other side. Once over we followed short switchback paths back and forth to the top, which were a little more pleasant and much easier. The silence of the mountains was occasionally broken with a cheer/yell from every runner before me who reached the summit. When it was my turn I think I just said ‘wow’. The view was something else, in all directions, it was spectacular. It was about 7pm and the day was starting to end. Behind us the sunset created incredible shadows on the mountains, ahead of us many lakes sparkled in the dying daylight and many more mountains were still visible in the orange sky. I took a load of pictures and then descended. Running where I could as we passed the lakes and headed to the final little incline.

Not all the climbing was done just yet though and we had one final climb to get up and over the mountains. The climb itself wasn’t as memorable as the previous one. The rocks were loose but the path was defined and gradual. From the summit we descended a scree slope with twisting switchbacks swooping down steeply which was a bit painful on the feet and ankles. Ahead of us lay more rocks as far as the eyes could see in the diminishing light of day. I was hoping that the final descent would be better than the two previous ones (it looked a bit more gentle on the route profile) and I was keen to get the rocky section over with quickly. I caught back up with David and two other runners just as the remaining sunlight faded and had to stop and take out my head torch (I was optimistically hoping I’d make it to the final aid station before I needed my head torch). I fell into line behind them and we all walked briskly together in the darkness. I could have run but quite enjoyed the pace being set. The trails were still very rocky and not the most forgiving on the feet after over 50km. My ankles were quite sore and I hoped the trails would improve the further down we went, so I stayed in line with the others. Everyone was eager for the last aid station but it never quite seemed to appear. Frustratingly I don’t think we’d covered as much distance on the long climb as we’d like to believe we had. We probably moaned for a good few kms before lights eventually appeared further up on the trail and the aid station became visible.

I was feeling the evening chill now and was hoping we’d be inside so I could layer up and not get too cold whilst refuelling. Annoyingly, despite there being a hut, we were once again cramped into a small space outside and once again served the same limited options. Getting water here was also painful as the large bottles had some hand pumps on them that weren’t really working and the volunteer was trying to fix them and tip the half empty one into the other so I couldn’t access the water when I wanted (he seemed to prioritise this over filling people’s bottles). Whilst waiting I heard the others suggest we continue together as a group. I’ll admit I wasn’t really interested in the idea and was ready to be alone and wanted to now ‘run it in’. There was a bit over 10k to go. I told them I was cold (which I was) so wanted to get going sooner. Despite it all though, we did end up leaving together (I must have faffed a bit!). So I made sure to be at the front of the pack and upped the pace, walking faster than before as we moved over the rocky ground.

As the rocks turned to gravel I started running. The group of four then became two groups of two as David joined me running. He agreed he wanted it to be over now sooner rather than later. He ran fast though, faster than me. I kept up as much as I could and he was a great pacer for me. For the next 10k we ran when we could. Through fire tracks, gravel tracks, down roads and more forest paths. After about two thirds of the final section, we left the gravel tracks behind and alternated between the main road (which I think led to all the ski resorts) and the forest paths that cut a straight line through the hairpin bends. The marking was a bit hard to follow at times but we pretty much got through it without error thanks to the headtorches picking up the reflective tape in the pitch black darkness of the night. Before long we left the wooded areas for good and followed the main road all the way back to town. We had about 4kms left to run and now re-joined the road we started climbing on some 16 hours earlier.

Despite running at a healthy pace, it was still a long way into town and the finish line. The long straight down hill to town was about 2kms, the stretch through the town another 1km then we had the cobble streets to the finish. We passed many runners from the 38km, 66km and 160km races as we pushed to the end without stopping. At the finish line David’s family met him and then I followed across the line to be greeted by my friends (except for Vanna and Reka who were still out on course). I was glad to be able to stop!

At the finish I sat and layered up with my spare clothes and joined the others as we waited for Reka to finish and Vanna to return. Unfortunately Vanna, Gif and Ale had to stop their races. But each had an adventure of their own getting back from the aid stations where they stopped. Overall I had a great time on the Pirin ultra. The route is tough, technical and challenging. The landscape is breathtakingly beautiful. It’s such an incredible place to run and one I won’t forget any time soon. What an experience it was!

The downside of this adventure is that there are elements of the race organisation that could (need to) be dramatically improved. For an established event the simple changes seem obvious from a runner’s perspective. The aid station offerings really are quite poor. The limited and repetitive options were drab. Nothing sweet and very little variety in the savoury. No hot food or drinks and cramped set ups at half of the aid stations. Providing some additional basics (crisps? candy? another fruit option?) would make a huge difference. As would something hot. It wasn’t really a problem on the 66km course (I could carry enough of my own supplies not to be impacted) but I was speaking to a British guy doing the 100 miler and he made the same comment. They had no hot drinks, not even hot water, for them and only once he had some hot soup. Some of those runners were out on course for 50 hours! Also, stop the smoking at the aid stations!

The biggest criticism I’d have though is the strange stance/approach to DNFs (Did Not finish – retiring from the race) the organisation seems to have. They have cut offs so you can get timed out and you can also DNF at your own decision, but it seems that there is no provision to ensure participants get back to Bansko from the other side of the mountain range safely… Ale and Gif spent many hours getting back from the second aid station. They were told their choices were to continue or cut the route short by walking 10km (with 1000m elevation) directly to the third aid station (but with no directions) and then hitch hike from the town. How is that safe for someone who has judged themselves not in a suitable condition to continue?! They only managed to get back as another participant dropping out offered them a lift from their partner, but they had to walk 5km back to the main road to meet them.

Vanna’s experience is even more wild with a group of 10 drop outs at the third aid station told there is no way to get back to Bansko and they would have to stay the night. Eventually, the hut manager (?) reluctantly agreed to get them a taxi from a nearby town but charged them an extortionate 300 Bulgarian Lev to drive them off the mountain to the main road, Squeezing 8 of them in one car. There he’d arranged for two associates to drive them back to Bansko, again at an additional inflated cost. The race director eventually intervened (only after one of the participants called an ambulance after feeling unwell) and drove to intersect them at a petrol station where he argued with the drivers and made the runners change vehicles. Vanna eventually got back to Bansko around midnight but there still seems to be an expectation that he is going to pay a few hundred pound to someone for the privilege?! Mental.

I think as a race organiser you have to ensure the safety of your participants. You have to accommodate participants dropping out. If not ensuring transportation back to the start, making it clear that if you do drop out, you won’t be given transport and will be expected to find your own way back. As I finish writing this it seems there is a change in organisers taking place, perhaps with it improvements will follow…

Night of the Full Moons

Published on July 3, 2024 by runwithdai1 Comment

Oh how we’d been looking forward to this one. Many, many years ago I had a short trip in Bosnia when I was travelling around the Balkans with friends. We took a few days to travel to Bosnia and visited Mostar. It was stunning and I’ve been wanting to go back and visit Sarajevo ever since. When I came across a 105km ultra trail race near Sarajevo, I knew I’d sign up and that Paul, Darryl and Matt would come too.

After a few logistical mishaps leading up to the summer we flew in to Sarajevo the day before the race. On Friday we made the short journey into ‘town’ from where we were staying and did a bit of sightseeing. As we made our way back to the accommodation chaos descended on the town when a major power cut (affecting much of the Balkan region!) hit. We spent the next few hours in the increasingly hot accommodation, preparing for the race that would start at 10pm whilst wondering if it would go ahead – with no power surely the event was a safety risk. Alas, a few hours later power was restored and we were on our way.

On the way to Javorov do, Bjelašnica, where the race would start and finish, we stopped off for food at a lovely restaurant Lisa had found. They weren’t too impressed when we turned up in full running kit but reluctantly let us in. With full bellies we then continued to the start line to register. Bjelašnica might be familiar to some as this is where some of the events of the winter Olympics of 1986 were held. Now the surrounding area has many new and modern ski resorts set up.

The Vucko ‘Black’ trail starts high up in in the mountain resort Jorovano Do which is about 1,250m up in the mountains. The Black trail starts at 10pm and we arrived just before 9pm to register, have our kit checked and attend the technical race briefing. The race briefing was very thorough and detailed as every section of the race was talked-through. We chuckled when we were told to watch out for bears, snakes and other animals. After the race briefing we made our way outside to the start line along with 40 something other runners. We had our full mandatory kit checked and soaked up the atmosphere where many supporters lined the starting arch to send us off.

It was an excellent start line and we ran off onto the trail, quickly hitting a climb in the forest. The trail gradually became steeper as the single track led us away from the start line. The soft soil led us up and we crossed a road where loads of people cheered from their cars as they waited for us to pass across the road where we went straight back onto the forest trails. The smells were fresh. The ever so familiar feeling of calm washed over me. I love this feeling at the start of a race for the first few kms where all my anxiety and stresses flow out of me and the excitement of what is to come replaces them. My kind of freedom!

The night was warm. Very warm. Sarajevo was experiencing higher than normal temperatures and there were reports of high 30s being reached during the day. We weren’t going to be cold, that we knew for sure. Even as we climbed higher the temperature was warm and the air was still. The path led higher and we emerged from the forest onto trails that skirted along the side of the mountains. They were rocky underfoot and had a slight camber. Above us, dominating the night sky, was a full moon glowing orange. The night was hazy and light and I imagined having no head torch that I’d still be able to see enough. The night sky made beautiful silhouettes of the surrounding mountains which were visible. The mountain trails took us off the path, descending and ascending the undulating trails in a most direct fashion. Beneath us the gravel tracks gave way to lumpy grass and big rocks to skip along.

We passed through the first two aid stations, in what felt like no time. The first was a simple tent in the middle of nowhere after a steep and slightly technical descent. From which the mountain paths continued as we reached the second aid station which was at Lukomir, Bosnia and Herzegovina’s highest populated village at almost 1,500m. As villages go it is very small, just a tiny settlement of old stone houses and I believe a small number of families living there. At the aid station we talked and joked with the volunteers and tried all the food combinations they offered which it seems other runners weren’t interested in (Chocolate spread on bananas was a firm favourite for the boys). We then set off with strong vibes and encouragement to ‘enjoy Herzegovina’. That I was sure we would do!

The trails into Herzegovina where rocky and undulating. More skirting around the side of steep mountains and the vast emptiness as we traversed along the top of them. With the warmness and stillness of the night, we were sweating a lot and my shorts were soaked through. By now we were mostly alone though. At some point Darryl had quite an ingenious idea to combat the wet clammy buttocks that we were experiencing – just pull your pants down. So we did. For short bursts we ran with our ass cheeks out, bare to the world. Now it was a night of many full moons! Wow it was refreshing though. I’m not sure how in all the running I’ve done I haven’t thought to do this sooner. The dry air evaporated the sweat and our bums felt free and liberated. It may not have been pretty but it sure was effective. This was going to combat any chaffing for sure. Thankfully no one came running up behind us in the night!

Out in the wildness of the mountains we found ourselves on a slightly more rocky section here as we descended then climbed again. After which we found ourselves near Ivana, A runner from Croatia we’d shared some kms with earlier in the night. She was nuts, in a good way. She was so full of good energy and vibes, happy to talk and laugh her way along the course with complete freedom. We stuck around her for as long as we could keep pace through the night. At one point her scream of “Fuck you Paul Martin!” had us laughing as something was misinterpreted.

Somewhere on a decent, the calm night gave way to the freshness of morning and darkness started to recede. We arrived at a small aid station on the side of the road that was Dubočani. We tucked into some warm some soup for breakfast. We needed it. At 05:00 the sun was already breaking through. We could have stayed here a while if only it wasn’t for the amount of flies buzzing around. Little did we know they’d soon become the most irritating thing about this race. We swatted them away whilst we devoured the soup and then finished the descent down towards the river crossing where we would make our way to the other side of the Rakitnica River.

We were excited for this. From what we’d heard, and from the pictures we’d seen, it seemed like quite a wide crossing. Last year, with high levels of water, the crossing was relocated. This year we were fine though. We were ready to wash off and cool down. When we did reach the river it was surreal. So beautiful with a morning mist layer covering the crystal clear water. It was however absolutely freezing. We were contemplating a full on bath, but just after 05:00 it was just a little too cold for us to commit. So instead we went up to our thighs and washed our faces, hair, arms and legs and decided against that sit down wash! A scream from above drew our attention as we looked up to see Ivana high up on the climb out of Dubočani, we waved at her and enjoyed a few more minutes before making our way across and starting the big ascent of the route. We had about 900m to climb in one go and then another 300m or so further on.

The climb started off wet and muddy, steeply climbing through the forest before we broke free onto some dirt tracks leading to a small village. Sheep dogs were barking, protecting their herds as we neared the farms. We then zig-zagged our way up as the terrain became steeper and more rocky. It was a slow climb, which was annoying as the flies were loving us. They were so irritating. Many of them bashing into our heads, flying into our ears and in Matt’s case tens of them enjoying a free ride on his head/hat. We tried to mask our sweaty smells with sun cream, which worked if only for a short while. Despite this, the climb and early morning gave us the first real glimpse of the incredible environment we were in. The silhouetted mountains now showing in all their glory. Layer after layer for as far as the eye could see. It was quite a sight! We even saw a snake!

Eventually the climb levelled out a bit and we found ourselves on a long dirt track with a very gradual climb, the start of the 300m section. We had no interest in running this, as runnable as it was. We knew that we were close to the next aid station now – Grušča polje – and here we’d have our transition bags.

At just short of halfway, here we were greeted by the aid station in a small building. We were so glad to be able to go inside and escape from the heat (yes at 7am!) and the flies. We sat down and loads of friendly volunteers started helping us as we ate and changed our clothes. We talked with them about the route and experience so far and showed the picture of the snake we saw. Consensus seemed to be a viper (can’t recall what they said) but not one of the venomous ones or something to be concerned about. A viper though, that’s exciting! We were served big pasta dishes with lumps of tender meat and noodle soups. There was so much food and drink. Darryl even had some medical support for his feet. I dried mine off, re-taped them and applied fresh socks and dry shoes. It was bliss after the soaking at the river crossing, so glad I had a spare pair of shoes.

We spent a long time here and many runners came and went. We weren’t bothered though. We were so far ahead of the schedule we expected. Eventually we did leave though and began a long walk as we re-joined the dirt track with its gentle climb through the villages. Now we had about 15km to go to reach Puzimsko groblje.

The gravel tracks soon disappeared as we reached the highest point on this section and we went off track again. It was grassy, it was open. We passed through a section with stone circles where we took a rest and saw a hiking group in the distance. We were weaving around the high mountains, along the basins and up through a saddle. We started descending again and it was a little tricky underfoot as there were more rocks and we weaved our way down and into the valley below. Much of this section followed the same – off track, lumpy grassland scattered with rocks. Weaving around and through mountain passes. It was beautiful but tough. This was the longest section and there was little variation and no shelter from the increasingly brighter sun. Our focus was to just get through it as we’d then be around 60k in, a decent milestone.

There was a small road crossing and a very twisty section where I powered ahead. Every time we thought it would be nearing an end we’d see flags/markers way off in the distance. We’d reform together and crack on then over time spread out a little. We’d been moving for over 12 hours now and we were feeling it.

We skirted a rocky section around a mountain that had plenty of loose scree underfoot and we could then see the aid station up in a verge/layby in the distance. When we eventually reached it we all collapsed into the seats and started stuffing our faces with watermelon. The watermelon out here was so fresh and juicy! We felt that. That section, being the longest, with naff all shade and increasingly warmer temperatures of the morning drained us and we all looked exhausted. Copious amounts of Coke and watermelon were consumed. We needed the break but probably spent too long here. Loads of runners came through and they all hardly stopped and left quickly. We were the only ones that hung around. Not that it bothered us, we were enjoying it.

After sitting down and leaving the aid station I decided to check my phone signal and my emails and messages. I’m in the process of trying to sell and buy a house and over the course of the morning I had received an offer through that met my expectations. My brain snapped into focus. The run became my second priority and as we left the aid station I was head down in my phone pinging off emails to different estate agents and telling them “I’m up a mountain in Bosnia!!”. It was stressful but I was buzzing. A wake up call that gave me energy.

Once I was done I put the phone away and chased after the others whom I’d told I’d catch up. It was surprisingly muddy and there were lots of little trip hazards as we ran through a forest section. No wonder I was all over the place when I wasn’t looking at anything other than my phone. I caught them up just as we came across a weird little climb that diverted us around a fence to re-join the path through a long grass area. We’d seen pictures of this as the organisers had ‘cut’ a path out through the grass. We tried to move with more pace but it was so damn hot now that our pace and effort didn’t make a damn bit of difference.

This was a slightly shorter section but it still took us ages. Almost 3 hours to cover less than 8km. I can’t remember much else as my mind was distracted. But here Matt started to really feel the heat. There were some smallish climbs in the forest and they just zapped his energy making it very slow going. Darryl was sticking alongside with him and managing regular rest breaks, Paul was pulling us up, setting the pace. Team work. The goal now was the aid station at Bobovica. Get to this aid station and rest again before tackling the big section with the ridge lines. Matt was a little worried about the next section due to the heat but stuck with it. Into the aid station we went. Darryl and Paul had a little lay down. Me and Matt tried to eat and drink as much as we could as we talked with the volunteers and got more info about what lay ahead. It was going to be long. Another runner on our race arrived into the aid station after completing this section (it’s a loop back to here via a different path). He said it took him 4-5 hours. So it was going to take us a lot longer. Matt was rejuvenated though knowing the total elevation was broken up slightly and that there was now an extra water stop before the descent – about 6.5k in.

As we set out and started the climb there were two other runners from the red course (66k) who set out just before us. We followed them slowly as the climb led us into the shade of the forest. We played leap frog with them for the whole climb. They were up against a different time limit on their race and knew they wouldn’t make it, but were going to finish the section anyway. We were just exhausted. We all took breaks fairly regularly, to stop and manage the heat the best we could as we climbed through the forest which was steep and hot with more flies. Eurgh. We made slow but steady progress as it wasn’t too bad in the shelter of the forest but that wouldn’t last. We left the trees behind and continued up on the increasingly steeper and rockier paths. There was a short sharp climb that opened onto the side of the ridge line. We sat and enjoyed the spectacular views. I was with Matt and he desperately needed some shade. But there wasn’t any. We carried on up where we found Paul and Darryl spread out on the summit. What a place to lay down and relax. It was just missing the shade. The view showed us everything that lay ahead. A horseshoe of ridgelines with maybe 4 or 5 summits we’d navigate along the way around too the other side of the valley. Somewhere over there we’d descend. Somewhere…

We carried on with trepidation. Up close though the footpaths were clear and solid. Nothing to worry about here. Despite the heat it wasn’t so bad either as there was a glorious wind to keep us cool. For the next hour or so we traced forward, following the dots in the distance that were the other two runners. After the biggest climb on the ridge we all got momentarily angry. We thought the water would be here. We’d been climbing for about 2 hours and drinking like there was no tomorrow. We were worried the water station had left without us. Surely not. Thankfully it was just our minds and fears. In the distance, at the end of the horseshoe we could see the structure of a bivouac shelter and people. This drove us forward as we enjoyed a nice descent on the mountain side down to where the water actually was. Somehow this whole section was only 6.5 km but had taken us over 3 hours.

With the ridge attacked, overcome and the spectacular views enjoyed, we stopped here too for a little while with Matt resting in the shade of the shelter. We refilled our water and talked and joked with the other runners and volunteers. We could have stayed here happily for hours. The view really was really something special. Alas, we clambered to our feet and all set off together, there was a long way to go back to the aid station to finish the loop.

As we set off it was mostly downhill, we had climbed a long way after all. We had about 900m to descend in total and the route set off steeply. It went straight down the side of the mountain then onto some switchbacks as we headed for a lush green ‘lump’ on the mountain side. Over it we went and further down as we started weaving towards the forest. It was here that I started to fade. I had to call a time out and sit in the shade because I was so hungry. I’d not eaten for the whole section, probably for over 4 hours by now, and hadn’t been managing my fuelling at all. I think I was fine but just hadn’t fully considered how long the ridge would take. I devoured a chocolate/nut bar and we set off again before all the flies swarming us bit us to pieces.

The forests here were incredibly dense and the smells sensational. All sorts of fauna combining to give the forest its scent. It was a completely new experience on this run with much of the route being exposed to suddenly be in what looked like a tropical rainforest. We enjoyed it. After some time, with lots of little climbs and further descents in between, we clambered across a boulder field. I hated that stuff. My feet were aching now and every boulder caused my feet to move in awkward positions and rub more and more. I was glad to traverse it and get to the other side!

Even after the boulder field the route seemed to continue on more and more. We were still weaving and winding around the mountain we’d descended for so long. After what felt an age we did eventually get back to the aid station almost 6.5 hrs after our first visit. That was a long section. We took soup and prepared our head torches for the next part as it would now be dark. Paul did his duty and gave Matt a good talking to, ensuring his mind was set for what was to come. He was ready. We estimated another 6 hours before we’d finish, a long way to go but gladly broken up into 3 sections. We said good bye to the other two runners and set off.

We now had 3 sections all about 7km or so in length, so a little more than half marathon remaining and the bulk of the elevation was done now. We’d always said we would get to the 70km mark and know when we’d finish. That momentarily lifted our spirits. The first section was mostly down hill and rocky. It was tough on my now very sore feet as we left the aid station off track down some steep and uneven paths to the river. The darkness set in very, very quickly as we bushwhacked our way along the path, following the sound of the water. After a short while we had the suspension bridge crossing which was… interesting. To get on it we had to climb some largely spaced ladder rungs and then make our way across some wobbly planks which weren’t connected to the guide ropes we held on to. It made for a mini test and adventure for our tired legs!

The trails were largely off track on this section. A few climbs and descents later we emerged from the darkness above a village with street lights glowing in the darkness. It was very loud here and we assumed we were at the aid station. Only it wasn’t and instead there were a group of guys partying loudly at 1:30. Music pumping and screaming and shouting. Darryl was adopted by them and almost lost to their party. I think they even offered him a lift home if he stayed and drank with them. We climbed up a road, leaving the village, and almost Darryl, behind. Then we saw the aid station.

Another aid station stop and another round of soup for everyone. Despite being the last runners, they were keen to put the kettle to use and get us warm drinks! The night was cooler than the night before and we took the moment to layer up as we left. This ‘second’ section felt long and hard. It started with a descent and climb in the darkness. Then our tired minds played tricks with us using the squished route profile on our bib numbers. We’d interpreted the section appeared to be flatter than it was. Only all around us were mountains. We were very close to where we’d run some 90 km and over 24 hours earlier – in the valleys, off track running along lumpy grassy areas. The terrain felt all to familiar but there didn’t feel like there was anyway out with out climbing! The feint glimmer of reflective trail markings confirmed this as they seemingly lead us upwards, climbing to the heavens. We had no choice but to follow. We did however have a choice to vocalise our dissatisfaction and confusion and we chose to moan like hell. Thankfully by now Matt was seemingly well recovered from the heat exhaustion of the day. The cooler night had certainly made things easier. But we were all tired, all so very tired. More times than I can remember we curled up on the floor and turned our head torches off to try and sleep. Sometimes we did, mostly we didn’t, every time we complained about the flies! It was very stop start as we slowly navigated to that last aid station.

From here we knew we just had 7km left to go. We were glad it was one of the shorter sections and not a race with a large section at the end. I was struggling though. The tiredness had gripped me hard. We continued what remained of a short climb before descending. Each step causing me to curse with the pressure on my sore feet. After the descent we found ourselves crossing the open mountain side, a gentle camber underfoot, Even in the darkness it was breath-taking. Looking down it only got darker and darker like an abyss. I remember thinking about the grass beneath our feet was that was wet with dew. It felt so different to the previous night.

After sometime, lights up ahead caught our attention, and then the sound of people. We were at a road crossing and volunteers cheered us in. 3km to go they told us (it felt like it should be more and it was indeed slightly more). From the road we descended sharply in the forests. The guys were spurred on, but I couldn’t keep up. The steepness and loose soil aggravating my feet. I called after them to slow down. It felt like the same forest paths we ran through as soon as we started way back on Friday night. It was close but, not the exact same paths. We had multiple conversations about the paths and debated whether we were retracing our steps.

After the descent we broke out onto a gravel track road. We had to climb again. Not far or high, and at a very respectable gradient, but our pace slowed. It felt like an eternity as we trudged onwards. I was hallucinating now. I remember asking Darryl if he “wants lemon with that” (seems that I was dreaming that I was working in a bar) and telling Matt to “Put the kettle on”. Darryl stayed with me, trying to keep me talking and awake as we plodded on. I probably spent more time walking side to side than walking forward!

Finally after the road and a further km or 2 through the forests we saw the lights of the finish line. The guys huddled up and we crossed that line together to the raucous cheers of a few volunteers who remained and clapped us in, telling us they’d been waiting for us and that we’d missed the party! We were indeed the final finishers. Lisa was there too, to look after us and drive us home. We sat for 10 mins and chatted with the organisers. 10 minutes later I was fast asleep in the back of the car. In 3 hours time we’d be awake and heading to the airport to go home.

We thoroughly enjoyed this event. It was tough, probably more so than we expected given the heat, but beautiful. The mountains and the route are incredible and the organisation of the event was spot on. Highly recommend this is added to your ultra trail bucket list!

Van, Van, Van Der Veen!

Published on May 24, 2024 by runwithdaiLeave a comment

The Salomon Ultra Trail Hungary has numerous different race distances from a V500 up to a the 111km ultra. It is set in the town of Szentendre, a short drive outside of the capital Budapest, situated on the banks of the Danube. On this occasion myself, Natalia, Nick, Elise and Carl headed out there with me and Carl doing the 111km, Natalia and Nick on the 50km and Elise doing her second trail race on the 22km ‘Twin Peaks’.

Natalia, Carl and myself flew out on Friday and spent the night in Budapest before joining up with Nick and Elise who flew on the Saturday. The weekend began with some humorous errors. Carl booking the wrong hotel in Budapest (thankfully he was booked in the accommodation next door and not further away!) and then we found out that somehow we’d all missed that Elise’ race was on the Saturday, just a few hours after she landed, not on the Sunday as we thought. Thankfully, when checking in to the hotel in Budapest, we got talking to Erika, the receptionist, who was running the race herself on Saturday and volunteering on the Sunday. So we were able to get a message to Elise and prepare her ready for the surprise! That day in Budapest a thunder and lightening storm hit the city. It was torrential. We spent maybe 20-30 mins at one point waiting under a bridge as the rain was so heavy and the ground instantly flooding. We hoped that the trails would dry up on Saturday (Saturday was predicted to be mid 20 degrees, but more rain forecast for Sunday morning).

The next day we travelled to Szentendre and met up with Nick and Elise in the town centre before checking into our AirBnB around 2pm. We all went to the race centre for registration, where I had the comedy moment of seeing a picture of myself and Paul from the Letecka ultra on a tv screen at a stand for the Slovak Ultra Trail. I also happened to be wearing the race tshirt as was the person at the stand. So we had a quick chat about that and the Big Bear Ultra which is another Slovakian race I’ve got my eye on. After the Expo we saw Elise off to the bus for her start and went about preparing for our races. Carl and I would be starting from the town at midnight whilst Nick and Natalia had a more respectable 9am start on Sunday.

Around 8pm we made our way into the town centre to cheer Elise over the finish line. Whilst there was a prominent race finish area, and plenty of crowds, the atmosphere was completely flat. Hardly anyone was cheering or clapping runners in. We took turns ‘enthusiastically’ cheering in the runners whilst awaiting Elise’s finish. She soon came bounding round the corner with a huge smile on her face (and mud on her legs from a slight fall). We brought the noise chanting “Van, Van, Van Der Veen” much to the delight of the elderly lady next to us. It worked out nicely, for us all to be able to support Elise as we expected we’d all be out running when she would finish. Afterwards we made our way back to the accommodation and an early night (or attempt to rest our feet for a few hours for me and Carl!).

At Midnight we entered the start line. A full kit checked was performed on every runner entering the start pen and information about the route and weather was relayed to the runners. From the start we weaved through the old town, along the cobble streets and towards the river. We had a few kms along the footpaths before leaving the town behind and entering some fields and forest trails. The ground was compact but soft and the rocks slightly slippery. The first climb came and went and soon enough we were on single track forest trails on a speedy downhill. We were chatting away non-stop and commented that it was incredibly peaceful. There wasn’t a sound in the forest and no other runners were chatting or speaking. It was very relaxing, but it was also very humid. The lingering storms made the night stuffy and warm. I was already soaked through and felt like I’d been swimming in a river with my shorts dripping wet and clinging to me.

Next up there was a long, slower climb where the ground was covered in a thin layer of slippery mud. It made the climb tougher than it should have been, but the sweeping downhills made up for it and we skipped on at speed. After one climb, seemingly out of nowhere a huge derelict building appeared next to us. It was eerie in the darkness of the night. Right after this we found ourselves in some sort of campsite / out door active area and the first aid station (Dobogoko). We were 20km in so took some time to eat and drink before carrying on.

We started descending from the aid station straight away on beautiful forest trails. I made a note to message Natalia and Nick with some insight on the trails. It was very much like the sort of trails you’d find on the North Downs Way or in the Hurtwood forest. Very runnable and mostly wider, well defined trails and paths. We continued to enjoy the sanctuary of the quiet forest before a short section higher up where the wind was howling and the temperature dropped. After descending though we soon warmed up again. The next climb was a little more troublesome as the sludgy wet mud had returned with a vengeance. The trails were drenched from the recent downpours and our shoes were now clogged with mud. We struggled to get any grip and made slow progress up the climb. Thankfully the descent was much better and very gentle. The morning was starting to break and for the first time we could get a sense of the scale of the forest. It was dense and the silhouettes were vast and majestic as the darkness started to ease. We were over 30km in now and already confusing ourselves. Somehow we thought we had another climb and descent to go, but then arrived at the next aid station (Pilisszentlelek). We were happy about that, a pleasant surprise! Whilst this was just a water stop (there was an option to have a bag drop here which we didn’t use), we sat down and rested for a good 20 mins. Carl was starting to feel fatigued and was having issues with his hamstrings and his glutes. We did acknowledge that we had probably been running the downhills too quickly.

The next section was fairly straight forward. After the two longest sections, and 5 chunky climbs done, we now only had 9km to cover with a small climb and longer descent. The forests woke up and were filled with the sound of birds going about their morning routines. It sounded like there was a party high up in the trees. After a short out-and-back section we were at the aid station of Pilismarot. We sat down and enjoyed some warm vegetable soup. It was so salty, exactly what we needed. It was starting to become clear that we were spending more time at aid stations than most runners. We weren’t concerned just yet, but were very aware that the cut offs for this race were quite tight and we probably didn’t have time for all these long breaks. We went back out on the course, into the forests and began one of the longer climbs of the day.

I was needing a comfort break so told Carl to carry on and I’d try and catch him up. As I tried to catch him I upped my marching pace and started over taking runners as I set my sight on Carl way off further up the climb. As I got near to him, the runner in front turned and started coming back. Shit, I thought, had we missed a turn? I checked the route on my watch and we had indeed missed a turn a few hundred metres back. As we made our way back we wondered how we’d managed this as the route had been exceptionally well marked throughout. As we found the flags it only made it more confusing – there were about 4 flags, clearly marking the turn and all 3 of us had completely missed them. We must have been tired!

As we re-joined the correct route the heavens opened. it was probably 7/8am now and it was pissing down. I was hopeful the dense forest would shelter us, but we suddenly seemed to be in the least sheltered part of the route so far! We made the decision to stop and take our jackets out before we got too wet. We were then amused as my shoes started foaming with soap suds, clearly I hadn’t rinsed them well enough after I last cleaned them! The rain made the rest of this section tedious as we continued climbing in the now wet and muddy forest. We were however greeted with the start of some excellent views as the sun continued to rise before descending on the what was starting to become a mud slide. We were all over the place trying to stay up straight and move forward rather than sideways. Thankfully after the downhill we had the next stop at Domos, which on the way to we passed a gathering for mass at the site of some old ruins. Once we reached Domos, which was another water station, the rain eased up and we packed away our jackets, tried to knock the mud off our shoes and refilled our water.

Now we began the biggest climb on the route. It started off weirdly technical as we clambered up some rocks, but it soon eased up. It wasn’t long though before it became particularly technical again. Firstly there was a long steep forest climb, trying to follow the flag markers where an obvious path didn’t exist. Then it became a narrow, single track path. I found some rocks and sat and waited for Carl to catch up. The views here were spectacular. For the first time we could see the landscape in which we’d been playing. All around us were layers of mountains, dark green forests covering the land for miles and miles. It put everything into perspective of just how dense the forests were. We continued climbing as the views became more and more impressive. There was one rock we though looked like a head staring at the mountains opposite. Slowly the forest gave way and the rocky ground started to dominate. We had a light scramble for a short while, where a photographer capture the runners and the landscape in the perfect location. Then, thankfully it was back into the forest for the remainder of the climb.

We were nearing 60km into the race now and the fatigue was having a greater impact on Carl. He was open and honest as he started verbalising it and so we agreed to take the climb a little slower before finding a place to rest. At first a log seemed an ideal spot before a race volunteer near a look out tower with benches appeared and seemed more optimal. We ‘checked in’ and Carl sat on a bench. I asked the volunteer if I could climb the look out tower and he replied “yes, if time is no worry for you?!”, so I did. Round and round, up and up I went. From the look out tower I had an incredible view over the Danube (and Carl below). It was just a shame I had to share it with some hikers smoking some weed. As Carl waited, he talked to the volunteer who told him all about the ‘famous Hungarian trail’ we’d soon be running on (and to look out for the green trail markers that indicate the route).

Our focus now was on re-energising Carl. We had a few kms downhill to the next aid station (Lepence) where we’d have access to our drop bag. A change of clothing and a longer rest was hopefully going to work wonders. We plodded on, and gently covered the downhill at a more conservative pace. We then arrived into the aid station with some odd confusion. The trail left the forest with a short, steep and incredibly muddy descent to an access road. There were volunteers there and a lady started waving and directing us to our right, where there was another trail leading off back into a forest. There was a language barrier and we resorted to pointing to the trail leading off to the side, to which we interpreted her response as that being the way we needed to go. We couldn’t understand why as the aid station was right there. As we ran off they started shouting and calling us back. It seems they were simply trying to direct us away from the mud to an easier descent. We didn’t care and risked the mud, tentatively sliding our way down. Thankfully we didn’t have to suffer the embarrassment of falling over in front of everyone!

We changed tee shirts and socks (our feet were soaked) and took some time to rest. Carl wasn’t improving though and the tight cut offs were now a stark reality for us. We were right against it and only had 35 mins at this aid station until it was to close and 2 hours to make it to the next one. So at a tad over 60km in Carl was starting to accept his fate and that he might need to make a decision to not continue. Carl is incredibly self-aware, modest and considerate. He was phrasing the logic around me, would I be able to make the cut offs if he wasn’t slowing us down, could I go on to finish the race, would I be annoyed if he dropped out. The answers for me were simple. I wanted him to run and to finish. I wanted to do it with him and of course I wouldn’t be annoyed in anyway. I also had complete faith in myself that if he did drop out, I could claw back the time and make the cut offs and finish. The difficulty was though that we would have to move much quicker than we had been and we’d have to stop for less time at each aid station. We decided to continue and make the decision at the next aid station (which would also have more hot food at it). So with slightly drier feet we set back out.

The next section was one of the slightly longer ones at about 12km, but ‘on paper’ looked fairly straight forward. There was one climb and then a long section of undulating trails. As we set out, the trails made it clear to us that we’d have to work for it… The first few kms were a very gentle downhill, almost flat, but alongside a road. The trail was elevated a little up on a sort of embankment with a steep drop on one side and overgrown foliage and felled trees on the other. The path was covered in the same wet, slippery surface mud that had been plaguing us for hours. The path was also right on the edge of the slope. So we had to move carefully as the risk of falling seemed high. As we moved the trails gave us everything, mud, rocks, overgrown parts, felled trees to climb over, stingy nettles. We moved quickly, but it was tiring. Towards the end of the path, after seeing a snake (slow worm?) we ran along side the road before continuing into the forest again. Here the mud was worse than we’d experienced so far. We had a tiny climb and descent of about 70m but it felt like it took a lifetime, every step forward we climbed we slipped backwards. When it came to the descent, well, we just had everything crossed. Our feet didn’t leave the ground, we were just ‘skiing’ down hoping not to loose control. I was lucky to stay on my feet (despite sliding straight into a stick front on into my shin), Carl wasn’t so lucky and at one point I turned around to find him on his back horizontal across the trail. I thought he was about to roll down the slope!

Back on his feet, we found ourselves re-joining a more respectable path and one which the 50km route had now joined up too. I wondered where Natalia and Nick were and if we would see them (I suspected we’d be way too far behind them now as their cut offs were an hour earlier than ours). We plodded up a long uphill as the day started to get quite warm (I think it was now around midday). Every opportunity we got, I started to run and set the pace. I felt bad, but I knew I had to push Carl. He had to ‘taste’ the pace which we needed to maintain to make the cut offs. It was hard work for me and I’m sure it was hard for him too in his condition. As we reached the top of the climb we came across a picnic area full of people. I noticed the green trail markings on the trees. We were on the popular hiking route now. If the markings weren’t obvious, the volume of people were. It was busy, very busy. The trails were dry and narrow and there were a lot of people to pass for the next few kilometres. Thankfully everyone was very kind and supportive and ever single person we came across stepped aside and gave us priority. I’ve never experienced such common generosity on a race before. Something else I noticed was people’s attire and footwear. No one was dressed for mud! So I was optimistic that this section would be far kinder on us. And it was. We covered the trails at speed, passing other runners too. I hoped it was good encouragement for Carl (except the bit where were once again missed a turn and had to back track!). After a short and steep climb we were out of the forests again and in open fields and a small town. We had arrived at Pilisszentlaszlo, the next aid station.

On arriving at the aid station two volunteers offered us water to wash our hands and our faces. Clearly they recognised the muddy yet warm conditions and it was nice to have some small sense of hygiene before entering! They also told us we were the first British people on the 100km and I joked back that I just had to beat Carl to the finish. Little did they know that Carl was about to make his intentions to quit known. We entered and a lovely lady started tending to my needs, she took my poles and replaced them with homemade tomato soup and offered to fill my water. I told her that Carl needed more help than I did and I went off to eat. As I was enjoying a second helping of soup Carl came and joined me. He hadn’t dropped out just yet. They’d indicated that the next section was 8km pretty much all downhill and we had time. His mind was back in the game. So we sorted our hunger, quenched our first and set back out together. Carl was clear and understood the mission now, he’d tasted the required pace and told me he’d let me know if I was to go on without him. So we started running again…

After leaving the road and entering the forest again, the descent started. I naturally picked up the pace felt Carl dropping a little further back. I shouted back to see if he was ok. “Yes, No” came the response. I turned back and waited as he clarified. He wasn’t going to be able to maintain the pace. He told me to go on without him, that he’d make it to the next aid station in his own time. That was it, the moment the race changed. I accepted his decision and didn’t push him to reconsider. There was probably about 35km still to go and now it was just me against the clock. We said our good byes and I embraced the downhill. I ran, I didn’t think about anything else other than running. I knew I now had to run every section of the course that wasn’t ‘uphill’ and when it came to the hills, I had to push hard. The next cut off was at 14:40 and I had maybe an hour and 20 mins until it closed. I was hustling as the trails passed by some built up tourist centre with a load of busses and people. I dodged and weaved my way through as I made my way to the river.

Here the trails followed the river downhill as we crossed it 12 times (so the volunteers told us we would earlier in the race). I tried to count but couldn’t even keep count to 10 as my concentration was on the trail and the quickest route for each crossing, finding those stones and logs that looked most stable and wouldn’t see me end up with wet feet. I started catching and passing runners, I enjoyed this section. We left the trails onto a road and passed another popular area where people were fishing and watching the wildlife (I think there was something special going on with lots of birds making noise in the pond areas?!). I passed by another runner looking lost as I called and directed him back to the trail. At this point I had the route on my watch. I wasn’t going to risk any more navigational errors! After a short climb we descended on a concrete slab driveway and down into a small town, Visegard, the next water station. It was 14:20. I had 20 minutes spare and I needed it. I was hot and tired from running. My left heel was sore. I thought I’d developed a blister (I’d been gradually loosening my left shoe all day as it was putting pressure on my foot, I suspected the looseness now meant there was rubbing on the heel!) so I had to do something as I’d soon be in agony for the next 30km otherwise. I also planned to fill a third bottle for the next section as there was a big climb to come and it was bloody hot now! As I had to take off my bag to get the bottle I also fished out some spare KT tape to give a bit more protection to my heel. Thankfully it was just a hot spot and a blister hadn’t yet formed so I set about drying the area with my buff to try to get the tape to stick a little bit. Then a lovely lady came over with a box of medical supplies and offered help. They had zinc tape so I cut a few extra strips of the tape to put over the area and make it more secure. This was perfect. On the way out I was also given water to wet my head, hat and buff to keep me cool. I left without eating and began the journey to Pap-Ret. I was fired up and focused.

I left the town and began the climb. It was one of the longer climbs on the race profile but one that looked broken up into two, maybe three, smaller climbs. It was now back into the forest and a slow slog on the forest trails. The mud wasn’t as bad as earlier parts, but still added an extra level of difficulty to the climb. I remember there were lots of amazing views of the surrounding area, but no time to take them in. Only at the top did I stop to take a picture and absorb the moment. I then started running again. There were about 5 km of undulating trails that I just kept focused on. Small little inclines that I used to try not to break my momentum. Through the forests I went, picking off runner after runner. I was moving far faster than those I was passing. At no point though did I have to call out / request to pass. Everyone in the race was so aware and always stepped aside well in advance and cheered me through. Occasionally there were runners moving at a decent pace, and this only encouraged me more, I sped up as not to pick up any runners, I didn’t want any pressure of people running behind me. I was hydrating well and glad of the third bottle. I knew I wasn’t far from the aid station now and then came across the volunteer directing people the correct way along a crossing in the trail. I remembered it from the route, there was an out and back to the aid station. I kept running. It was longer than I realised though and I covered almost a km before I reached it. Along the way I recognised many runners from earlier in the day going in the opposite direction. There were people that passed us on the climb back around the 55 km mark. I made it my goal to see them again…

At the aid station I looked for Erika as this is where she said she’d be volunteering, but I couldn’t see her and I needed to get a move on. I had just ten mins until the aid station closed. I told the volunteers I would leave in time. A girl then helped me fill my bottles and then a few minutes later I was gone. I had about 2.5 hours until the next cut off and 13km and 500m of elevation to go. I was confident. I’d done the last section in just under 2 hours and it was slightly shorter with similar elevation. I just hoped the trails were not covered in mud all churned up from all the other runners that had passed before me…

I ran back through the fields and forests, there was then a small, gentle climb that I quickly walked before the forests presented a series of glorious sweeping switchbacks for me to descend on. It was the first time in the race that the trail had been switchbacks. The terrain was good, the scenery was awesome and I felt good to push, so I did. I ran and ran, passing many more runners. I knew at some point there was a steep climb to come. Elise had told us the day before about a steep climb where runners were using their hands to climb up on the tree routes. As I approached a ‘wall’ in the forest, there was a volunteer who asked if I had enough water and directed me to a stream where I could refill. I had 3 bottles again so I was fine, but I took the opportunity to wet my hat and buff again, putting water on my neck and arms too. Then I started the climb. It was as Elise had described, it was steep and there were loads of runners ahead of me, all clambering up on all fours. I was catching them as I powered up. Each one became a target.

At the top I was relieved, I was glad it was over. But I couldn’t rest up. My mind was also calculating, wondering if that was the climb Elise was describing. I thought I had another climb to go, and she’d said it was the second of her two climbs. I wondered if her route hadn’t come this way, surely she wasn’t describing a climb that was harder than what we’d just done? After more lovely switch back descents I found my self hiking uphill again. I was full of anticipation, waiting for the route to turn and become steep, but, it never happened, I was descending again. I was checking the profile on my bib number, surely I was on the way to the final aid station now. I was. I left the forest onto a road and saw the flags in the distance. I was there, Skanzen, the final aid station. It was about 18:30, I was will inside the 19:00 cut off now.

I was buzzing though, full of competitive energy knowing I’d finish in time and getting high off the endorphins of passing other runners. So I quickly refilled my bottles and confirmed there were a little over 6 kms to go. I knew this was mostly road and down hill to re-join the paths along the river we’d used to leave Szentendre all those hours earlier. I grabbed 3 gummy bears and ran on. I intended to run all the way to the end. I messaged Natalia and Nick to tell them I was on my way and moving well.

The last section took us along the main road before we continued into fields then out and onto a beautiful residential street that was so wide and full of massive houses. I wanted to live there. All the way I was watching over my shoulder for other runners. I felt pressured but engaged, I wanted to catch runners but I also didn’t want anyone to catch me. I knew that with the pace I was going, if I maintained it, then I’d be just fine. From the residential street we joined a main road. It was busy and loud. Thankfully though there was an elevated pavement away from the road. One by one I passed a few more runners. A police man then held the traffic and waved me across the road and I followed a trail back across a bridge to the riverside path. This was it. I knew I wasn’t far from town now. It was still about 2.5 km, which was further than I’d like, but I promised myself not to stop. Every now and then I’d see runners in the distance and set them as the next targets. With about half a kilometre to go I passed one more runner and headed into the old town.

Final 300m through the cobble streets of Szentendre

Running down the cobble streets my legs were flying and it felt like my stride was lengthening. I smiled at, and thanked, the many volunteers cheering me in as I ran round the corner into the finish line cordon. I saw Natalia, Nick, Elise and Carl. The joy of seeing them was mixed with the raw emotion of Carl being on the other side of the fence. I ran to them and stopped. I hugged and kissed Natalia. I was so proud of her for completing her 50km race. I hugged Carl (no kiss for him!) and thanked him. I wouldn’t have been at that finish line if it wasn’t for his company for 70+ kilometres and his thoughtful, considerate decision to tell me to leave him and chase the finish line. I tried to get him to come walk the finish line with me, but he humbly refused and agreed to walk along his side of the fence. I slowly jogged to the finish as the announcer said something like “come on, get a move on and finish”. A stranger reached out for a high five and I duly complied. I clenched my fist for the photographer and took a very welcomed wet towel over my shoulders and a medal round my neck.

I was full of emotions at the finish line and glad to have my friends share the moment with me. We sat for a bit as I waited for my body to go into shock and crumble (I expected it but thankfully it didn’t happen!). On the way back to the race centre (to collect my drop bag and grab some post race food) we ordered pizzas for collection. As I waited I saw many of the runners I’d run passed finish, I clapped and cheered them in too. I’m sure they were filled with similar relief and emotions to finish too.

I knew the race would be fast and hard, 20 hours for a hilly 100km is a tough target for me. We didn’t manage time well and got complacent early on, spending too much time at the aid stations, particularly those that were just water stations. We lost a lot of time doing that.

I’m amazed at how fresh I felt and able to push hard for the last 35km or so. I don’t think I’ve ever run at that sort of effort so late in a race before. I was also amazed at how I ran without eating much, pretty much since the tomato soup at the 74km mark I’d eaten nothing. Normally I’m empty inside and running on fumes on the later sections of races. The soups really were great and must have given me the energy I needed.

Everyone was so generous, the volunteers where so incredibly friendly and helpful, and the awareness of other runners to let me pass them on the route was so very thoughtful. Like wise for the many people we passed who were just out enjoying their Sunday.

Its a great race and a beautiful area and one I’d highly recommend.

Giraffe, Frog!

Published on April 16, 2024 by runwithdai1 Comment

Istria100, a 100mile course on the Istrian peninsula in north west Croatia. A race I heard about shortly after I got into trail running and which peaked my curiosity. There are several distances on offer as part of the event, but it was only the 100 mile race that I wanted to do. I’d contemplated the race a few times in previous years but it seemed to never work out with other plans. Thankfully Matt was keen to do a 100 mile event in 2024 and liked the sound of Istria, so we signed up.

Leading up to the race I was starting to feel more confident and optimistic. My persistent leg injury seemed to be under control (probably thanks to the Physio I’d been seeing and being more consistent with some rehab and strengthening!). Running Letecka Stovka a few weeks earlier was a huge confidence boost and the planning for Istria was complete, so all was good. Then, a week before the race I rolled my ankle (on the other leg – the one I broke back in UTMB 2022!) badly at the end of a simple run just as I was approaching home. It hurt like hell at the time and continued to ache for the rest of the day. It wasn’t one of those ‘it hurts but is instantly fine a few moments later’ kind of rolls. So the injury anxiety and worries came back along with the constant ice pack. Trying a run a few days later it was still achy and although I was concerned, I wasn’t going to stop now. I’d do the usual hope for the best and ‘deal with it later’.

I met Matt at Venice airport and we drove over to Umag in Croatia by passing through Slovenia. Thankfully for me Matt is super organised and had sorted all the race logistics. We were staying in a hotel affiliated to the event in Umag not far from the finish line. The hotel also had a regular shuttle bus to the sports hall (where bib collection and drop bags would be) and would also be the venue for the post race meal for runners. We’d planned to be running for over 35 hours so made two separate bookings for just the night before the race and the night after. Trying to be smart and not pay for accommodation for the two nights we’d be running through. Given the time of our flights landing, we didn’t make it to Umag in time to collect the bib the night before the race, so we checked in to the hotel and went for food and then straight to sleep.

The next morning we checked out and used the shuttle service to go collect our bibs before returning to the hotel and getting ready for the race in the hotel grounds near the tennis courts (tennis is big in Umag! They host an ATP tournament don’t you know!). The start of the race is in a town called Labin on the eastern side of the peninsula. There was a transport bus from Umag at 16:00 so we had plenty of time to spare. When we were ready we took the shuttle service back to the sports hall and made our way into the town centre to get some lunch. We forgot the race centre was closed over lunch so couldn’t drop our bags off until we went back for the bus to Labin after we’d eaten.

A few hours later we’d completed the bus journey and arrived at the little medieval town of Labin perched high up on the hill above the city of Rabac. There was an initial mad rush to the toilets as all 7 buses unloaded and then a short time of hanging around waiting for the race to start. Thankfully it went quickly and there was a good atmosphere as the host shared information over the loud speaker, a samba band provided entertainment and the organisers arranged a group photograph of all the female participants. Scott, another runner from Wales who I met on an UltraX event years ago, found me and said hello. Then, Before we knew it, Thunderstruck by AC/DC was pumping out and the countdown began. We were off…

Section 1

For the first section we left Labin on the main road, leaving the old town through the archway and down hill. Naturally people bombed passed us from all directions. We we cautious and knew we couldn’t get caught up with speeding through the first downhill section so ran sensibly, even as we saw runners chasing each other up the initial little climb straight out of town before we turned off for the trails. The first trail was a narrow, single track trail that led down to the coast and towards Rabac. It was scattered with very loose rocks for most of the way. At the bottom we ran along the promenade of a the beautiful coastal city of Rabac (with its humongous resort perched on the side of the hill) and enjoyed the gentle sea breeze. We then turned off the sea front and up a lot of steps as we found the single tracks of the forest and wide, gravel roads that made up the first incline. It was rocky.

The climb was fairly short and didn’t take long to ascend. There was a brief peak with a view point (one of those random man made picture frames you’re supposed to take a photo with?!). But I was more fascinated by the massive chimney from a nearby industrial site in the the valley below. Despite being about 450m high at the view point, this chimney looked like it towered almost all the way to the same height as us.

From the peak we began the descent. It was a very long down hill on loose rock and gravel tracks, following large swooping switch backs down to sea level. The whole way the towering chimney occupied my thoughts. I know now that this is from the Plomin coal-fired power station. At the bottom we crossed a water channel connecting to the sea and made our way into a massive car park and the first aid station – Plomin Luka. Here we did a quick stop, the highlight being paprika flavoured crisps. I love paprika flavoured crisps. We checked out the profile of the next section and Matt set the strategy noting this was an important section to get right. It was the longest section of the race and also had the second largest of the climbs. It was about 7pm so we took out our head torches ready for sunset.

Section 2

We set off from the carpark and began the ascent of the big climb of almost 800m. It started ‘off track’ with lumpy, rocky ‘steps’ as we climbed a short way to the old village of Plomin situated on the hill. Here there were lots of enthusiastic supporters cheering. They were particularly vocal in cheering on the ‘chica’ who was in front of us. It was great to feel the support. The climb then took us onto some very steep, wide gravel tracks. It wasn’t known at the time, but this would be the most prominent of surfaces we’d run the whole race on – wide tracks for vehicle access that weren’t anything more than just loose rock and steep gradients. As we climbed the sun set rapidly. We were treated to a fantastic orange sky with the power station chimney getting smaller and smaller in the valley below us.

The climb eventually levelled out. At the top was a very short but steep downhill on the same terrain then a few kilometres of undulating tracks. Already I was conscious of the terrain and my ankle and verbalising (moaning) to Matt. I’d rolled both my ankles numerous times already. I was a little concerned the impact this might have on my increasingly fragile body over the rest of the race. For the last few kilometres we descended sharply for about 500m back down to sea level again. It was a little quad buster but we tried to descend sensibly. Toward the bottom we ran alongside a river and crossed the water. Here the rock was very slippery and we were glad it wasn’t raining. The course would be infinitely harder in wet conditions like the previous year. The next aid station was in the old town of Mošćenička Draga – a small fishing port of the town of Mošćenice – and we could hear the atmosphere from the pumping music. The vibes and volunteers were excellent here. After more fuelling (paprika crisps!) we studied the next section’s route profile. Up next was the biggest climb of the race. We had about 1300m of elevation to climb in one go, roughly split up into a 900m and then a 400m climb, as we’d make our way towards Poklon.

Section 3

After leaving the town, the first part of the climb was steep gravel tracks (it’s becoming a theme now isn’t it.) with the terrain being very loose underfoot. The gravel tracks were intermittently broken up by steeper, more rocky climbs. We powered through with a nice consistent pace taking it steady. The darkness of the night helped not being able to see the trails and summits ahead. Occasionally I’d try second guessing our direction, pointing out the silhouette outlines of mountains looming around us in the night sky.

We conquered the first 900m without any concerns and had a long, surprising flat and down hill wide trails to enjoy for a a little section before climbing again. Now we climbed steep trails deep in the forest before a rather exposed section to the summit after we left the shelter of the trees. We could see the blurred glow of head torches disappearing into the darkness above us. We followed them into the unknown. With the exposed mountain the icy cold temperatures were initially refreshing after a tough climb but soon we realised how cold it was as the mist and clag of the summit set in. It was so misty that it was difficult to see as we traversed the final section to the summit along a short but very rocky ridge. Without being able to see more than a few metres ahead, we were shocked when a brick building of some sort of building appeared next to us out of nowhere. We were at the top of the trail, it was the Vojak Tower at Vojak – the highest peak on the Istrian peninsula – which then instantly turned to a pathed, stone pathway. It was glorious. A few hundred meters of rest bite from the rocks.

We began descending pretty soon and we kept moving to keep warm. With the moisture of the night we found the (now) rocky descent hard going as it was slippery. We followed the tracks down as the switch backs took us quickly down a few hundred metres to Poklon and the next aid station. This was the 50km mark and the first cut off point. We arrived about 2 hours ahead of our estimate. We were happy but both acknowledged how sore and achy we were. After 50km it felt like we’d run a lot further than what we had. My lower hamstrings were surprisingly tight and our quads ached. This was a significant milestone in the race though as we’d now completed the three biggest climbs, the first cut off and almost half of the total race elevation. Looking back, it’s a challenging 50km!

Section 4

From Poklon to Brgudac the section was fairly straight forward. There was a Little climb on road and trail (yeah it was mostly rocky). Then pretty much all long wide gravel tracks with mostly gentle downs and gentle ups for the undulating terrain. It was pretty slow going though and fatigue was definitely kicking in. Our feet were sore and we were seriously starting to dislike these gravel trails. We left Poklon about 3am and we were tired now and holding on to the thought that it would start to get lighter from around 6am. Whilst I moaned about the rocks, my ankles and feet, Matt started to get very sleepy and was weighing up the thought of a quick trail nap. He fought through the tiredness though and we got to the aid station just before 6am. As we were leaving the sun started to rise and the trails were visible enough without our head torches. We were starting to get excited about the day ahead and seeing some views after the darkness of the night.

Section 5

We left the aid station and followed the gravel tracks for a few kilometres before reaching some forests. It was a refreshing change of scenery. We crossed dried up old streams and passed a man made fountain(?) collecting water from the mountain side. The sunrise fully completed as we went deeper into the forest and the sun shone through the dense woodland. It created beautiful patterns of light and enjoyed the serenity of the moment. The field of runners had spread out and we enjoyed the peace and quiet of the forest. The climbs took us to a summit marked with a big Red Cross on it. We took a moment to enjoy the views which were panoramic. The trails then took us down through the forests with short sharp steep descents on loose soil. We enjoyed it despite the increasing quad fatigue we began to feel. We were 70-80km into the race now and had missed a nights sleep so fatigue was to be expected.

We were trying to keep each other entertained and were playing word games. We took turns naming countries beginning with the letter that the last country finished with. Matt was kicking my ass, badly. He kept hitting me with double ‘A’s and I was useless. So the game didn’t last long and he wasn’t having any of my excuse of “but we have another 25 hours of the race to play” as I attempted to stall. We switched the game to naming animals and I faired equally badly. Actually, worse because I kept replying “frog” to Matt’s play of “giraffe”. He kindly put it down to tiredness and not me being stupid. It did however give birth to the “giraffe, frog! game. A simple game of naming different animals, but any time someone says giraffe, the next person must say frog, if not they lose. Simple. It popped up a few times throughout the rest of the run.

Thankfully I was spared any further embarrassment as a new distraction soon graced us – the 100km runners. We knew the courses joined but weren’t expecting to reach the join before the majority of the 100km runners. We thought we’d maybe get the mid/back of the pack. Out of nowhere Matt heard a noise and turned to find the leading pack of 5 males (and not far behind them the leading lady!) right behind us. We stepped aside and cheered them through. One of the pack was Pau Capel (a big name in trail running) and we had fun cheering him.

The excitement soon subsided though as it made the next few kilometres a little frustrating as we carried on through the forests. For a few climbs and descents we had to constantly step aside to let all the speedy runners passed. It’s not needed, but it always feels the right thing to do (to give way and step aside). But it does mess with your momentum. And momentum is so important on long distance endurance runs. Thankfully most runners acknowledge and thank you for the consideration. Many however don’t. It was amusing how my ‘trail humour’ and attempts at heckling the runners falls so flat. Dad jokes like “don’t let us catch you up” and “you can beat him” just didn’t hit the mark. They never do but I can’t stop myself.

When we reached the next aid station we took a bit of a longer rest to give more of the pack a chance to pass us (as this aid station was about 40km in to their race, many of the 100km runners didn’t hang around for long). We also saw Kaito, who we briefly met at registration the day before. He was flying on his first 100km event. We sat down and enjoyed another course of paprika crisp sandwiches (the best combination) which had been our primary fuel at each aid station. We were loving it.

Section 6

The next section was the final bit that would take us to the 100km mark and our drop bags. We’d pretty much done half the race now and gave ourselves a hi five as we left Trstenik . We had more, long roads/gravel tracks and forest to overcome as more 100km runners passed us. We were aligned with the mid pack of the race now which gives a different vibe. The elites and faster runners are so focused that they fly passed you and from most you get a simple thanks or acknowledgement. Further back in the pack the runners speak to you a bit more as they pass and many go out of their way to acknowledge the 100miles and express a little bit of awe at your achievement. It’s a a real confidence and morale boost. It spurs you on as you converse with these strangers and encourage each other. Something I really like about the sport.

In this section I recall a road crossing that led to a short steep climb as we reached another summit. This was the last climb we’d do at the higher altitudes. For the last 40km or so we’d been fluctuating around the 700-1100 m of altitude. After this summit we would descend and would not climb to more than about 400m again for the rest of the race. After the climb the descent was pretty straight and direct for a few hundred metres of elevation loss as we passed near Brest before a short undulating section through Slum. We then dropped the last 500m or so on rocky forest trails to Buzet. We could see the town from the trails and were second guessing where the aid station might be. We could see little dots of runners crossing roads and roundabouts and then disappearing into the town. Eventually, after passing over the train line, it was our turn to be the guiding dots for the runners behind us.

Here we grabbed our drop bags and put our race strategy into action. We’d spent the last few kilometres adjusting and refining our plan – We’d get our bags and grab some food. Start charging our devices and sorting our kit as we ate. Then get changed into fresh clothes before going for a sleep (there were camp beds and planned sleeping areas at this aid station). After which we’d finish preparing our kit for the next section. This plan was based on our previous experiences. Firstly we thought it best to sleep where there was space to do so rather than waiting until we were more tired / later in the day. So despite it being around 1pm we decided a quick sleep now would be beneficial and hopefully postpone any tiredness deeper into the second night. We’ve also decided that it’s best to not go straight to sleep when we arrive at an aid station. We’ve done this before and we think the downsides outweigh the positives. Firstly you are normally wet with sweat and warm through adrenaline. As soon as you stop your temperature starts to plummet. It can be hard to get to sleep if cold and shivering. So always change clothes before sleeping. Secondly, eating first gives your body a brief rest from trying to process the food whilst on the go. And sometimes after you wake up you actually want to eat again!

So we did just that. We ate pasta with beef stew and sides of fried chicken. Istria100 is known for its great food and aid stations. Whilst I wouldn’t say any of this was great, the beef stew and fried chicken was definitely improvements on the options available at most other races! We then went for 30 mins of sleep. We were 2 hours ahead of our schedule and had plenty of time before the cut off. Plus, we’d planned on finishing early in the morning on Sunday and didn’t have anywhere to go as our hotel booking meant we couldn’t check in until about 2pm. So we didn’t care what time we actually finished. We had all day Sunday to do nothing and if we finished earlier we’d just have to sleep in the sports hall somewhere. We went upstairs to the sleeping area and found camp beds with no one else about. Perfect peace and quiet. We set an alarm and went to sleep. Before we knew it the alarm was waking us. I don’t think I really slept. I dozed but felt I was conscious the whole time. Matt did sleep though which was good as he’d been carrying that tiredness through from the early hours.

We had a few more snacks and decided to take a bit more time before leaving. I think in the end we rested for about 1.5 hours which is loads of time, even by my standards. There was another benefit here which came into our thinking. It was now very, very hot outside. The more time inside at Buzet meant the less time we spent outside in the heat. Not that it helped that much…

Section 7

As soon as we left Buzet we trotted down a road section towards the trail. I was pumped with energy from the rest and we moved quicker than we had for who knows how many hours. As we hit the start of the first climb, a muddy forest trail, the lack of shelter from the heat hit hard. Matt particular felt the heat as we started climbing and we made the decision to slow down. It’s good Matt recognised the impact of the heat as I think I would have pushed on and exhausted myself on the climb. The first climb was maybe a 150m section then a brief flatter bit before a final 100m push. We started to climb in the forests before we encountered some vineyards and wonderful little villages and farms on the hillsides. As we reached the top, a farmer directed us to a tap outside the house we could use. We wet our hats and faces and were so glad of his gesture. We then continued along a short road and more gravel tracks connecting the different vineyards which we followed as they took us back to the forests.

Somewhere around here we crossed a huge cliff with a drop off on the side of the hill before hitting the forest. The down hill took us deep into a forest that was wet and muddy. We were surprised. We’d heard how muddy the course could be but didn’t expect this would be the case with the warm weather. Yet here we were trouncing through mud. We navigated down and followed the sound of water as we joined up to a river and then crossed it numerous times in a short distance. It was fun at first then annoying as it happened so often. The stones crossing the water we slippery from all the runners before us. Further down though the river was fascinating as it carved incredible shapes and formations in the rock.

Once we completed the descent we were greeted with our favourite gravel tracks again. These were steep and we started to climb back up. I think it was about 300m or so. It was dull and we were hating the rocky gravel tracks by now and it was so warm. We were both running low on water and still had a long way to go before the next aid station as it wasn’t until a few kilometres after we descended the other side of this hill. So it was another slow and steady climb of using momentum to keep heading forward. Very few people passed us now but occasionally we’d overtake runners from both races. Everyone was feeling the heat. After a while the gravel track gave way to solid hard stone. It was marginally more enjoyable but the heat seemed to reflect back up at us off the ground. We sought out every inch of shade we could find as it was so exposed.

We were talking about different races and the types of support you get at villages. Commenting that on this race we’d seen very little from locals/the villages in terms of people being outside and cheering/helping runners. We also commented that sometimes races acknowledge the warmer than expected weather and pop up extra water stations. We wished that was the case here. Then, like some sort of mind reading miracle, as we reached the top of the climb in the village of Vrh a local welcomed us to his house to use his outside tap. There was already a collection of runners outside sitting in the shade and drinking. We both drank a 500ml of water and I refilled both bottles and encouraged Matt to do the same. A wise decision as I drank the extra litre before we got to next aid station!! All hail the water king of Vrh!

More rocky trails on the descent before Butoniga

From the town we had another rocky forest decent into muddy trails leading towards a lake. We could see the aid station (Butoniga) way off in the distance on the other side of the lake. First we had to descend, then climb again passing through the small village of Sculci before crossing /round the lake. The muddy trails made the climb a little hard at first as it was slippery. After passing through the village we then headed down a long road to reach the lake. Here we walked the whole length on the flat footpath. We simply refused to run on anymore gravel track. My feet were on fire now and despite being only the first aid station since the big stop at Buzet it felt like it took us an age to reach it and we had been moving for over 4 hours again. I told Matt I was worried about some soreness in my feet so wanted to spend some time trying to patch them up a little. Thankfully I didn’t have blisters but I felt the soreness and redness of hotspots around my heals. I put blister plasters and tape on the affected area and immediately felt better knowing I might have prevented some bigger issues and made my feet more comfortable. I was pleased with my decision making! As we left Butoniga it was 7pm. So we had our head torches at the ready…

Section 8

We left the aid station and had a 2km stretch along a river before re-joining the trails and starting to climb again. Like before the trail was surprisingly muddy and steep. It was slow going as we climbed through the forest and left the sticky mud behind. Before long we emerged on what seemed like a very new tarmac road. It just appeared out of nowhere and kept climbing. It was very steep. A long old slog as we kept plodding along. As we looked up in the darkness we saw a few head torches descending quickly. We tried to figure out the route and where we’d go. It was confusing (looking back I’m wondering if we even saw headtorches!). We seemed to circumnavigate in the opposite direction around the town on the hill and then back into the forest. A short and steep shortcut up to the village at the top. Despite it being dark and cold again the climb meant our temperatures rocketed. We were hot. A small group of runners had formed around us and I could see we weren’t the only ones who felt that climb!

From the village we went along a long straight track that confused me so much. It felt like a bridge sticking out from the side of the hill. My mind couldn’t process how the long path existed where it did. Must have been some sort of ridge or saddle in the hills. We led the pack of runners as the trail started to descend and become increasingly more narrow. Immediately I caused Matt to almost fall into me as I slowed down as the trail became saturated with deep sticky mud and large rocks buried in them. It was so slippery and we carefully had to navigate. Matt tried to get the next runner behind him to go first but he was not having any of it. I joked that we wanted to watch him fall over but the truth was he was right up Matt’s backside and breathing annoyingly loud. So instead we moved a little quicker, well as much as the terrain aloud us too. We were twisting in different directions on the descent and we lost all sense of orientation. I had no idea where we were heading and in which direction Umag was from here.

As the mud gave way to gravel we had resorted to walking again. It’s all we’d been doing pretty much since we left Buzet many hours ago. We walked along a few roads as we tried to figure out where we were going and which of the few villages/towns lit up on the different hills we’d be climbing too. Then the next hill then came again as we started out in more forests. Matt was very tired now and struggling to keep his eyes open and decided he couldn’t wait to the next aid station which was over the other side of the next climb, maybe close to 2 hours away. He wanted a trail nap so laid down on the side of the trail and gave me a strict instruction to give him just 2 minutes. I don’t no how he can get such energy/recovery from just 2 mins of sleep, but it works for him. As he laid there I bent over my poles and confirmed everything was ok to the other runners who passed us and checked that we were all ok.

2 mins later I resisted the urge to kick him and instead gave him a gentle shake from the shoulder. He sprang up on his feet, he was back, he was energised. We made good progress up the rest of the hill as we climbed to Motovun. We caught up and passed some of the runners before the trails turned to road and then to cobblestones. The cobbles hurt as we made our way through the historic old town. There were loads of them and the climb to the town was very steep. At the top we caught the rest of the runners who passed us when Matt slept and we fast walked away from them as we began the descent to Livade. Thankfully this descent was less steep than the ones before. But it didn’t make it any easier. We were just too tired and sore to make use of the gentle terrain. I think it was here that was the last time another runner went passed us running.

Before approaching the town there was a long flat gravel section alongside a major road. The sound of our poles tapping on the stone and stones crunching and rubbing each other was, for the first time, drowned out by another noise. The swooshing of cars passing. It was kind of nice to hear something different. At the end of the track we needed to cross the road. Thankfully nothing was coming because it was wide and we were slow. What faced us now was about 1km of straight road to Livade. It felt like 10km as we slowly walked the road. We’d already agreed that we’d sleep here again. We were both tired and it was 11pm. There was a long night ahead of us and still over a marathon to go. We believed there were more camp beds at this aid station so agreed to sleep for 20 mins if there were.

Once we entered the aid station I couldn’t see anything so I was getting ready for a ‘head on the table’ nap. But Matt being more authoritive just asked the volunteers and there were indeed beds for us, situated in a room next to the tent. We went in and had a slight wait for a bed to be freed up. There was probably less than ten beds cramped into a small room and the medics were treating other runners in the main room. fortunately we both got beds at the same time and asked to be woken in 20 mins. Matt slept through it all and woke naturally just about 20 mins later. He woke me but I think I just dozed and didn’t fall sleep again. I was a bit spaced out now. We went and had some warm soup and spent another ten mins composing ourselves and warming up under a heater. When we left the aid station we were very cold. We expected the second night to be warmer than the first as we were at much lower altitude. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t consistently cold but every now and then we’d get these icy blasts that would shock us.

Section 9

Leaving Livade I was moaning about how we still had so far to go. Matt however was the ever optimistic and sensible one. He verbalised the profile and put it into perspective to keep me focused. We had one climb of maybe 400m then a more gradual descent and gradual shorter climb of about 200m, the final proper climb. Once through this section it was pretty much down hill to the finish.

It was just as he described. We did a long climb in the forest in the cold. I think it passed rather quickly considering we were now over 130km into the race. We began the gentle descent that then felt never ending and the stones irritated our sore feet as we progressed along the long winding switchbacks. There was a short, steep and muddy descent as we then crossed a river before starting the final climb. It had it all. Gravel and stones, steep sections, twisting and turning tracks. Matt was talking away to me but I wasn’t talking back. I was drifting and struggling to keep my eyes open. He was using his experience and asking me questions. Loaded questions to make me talk and describe things. He’s wise like that. But I wasn’t helping. I wasn’t responding in the way that was needed. I wasn’t giving conversation, just grunting. It was having an impact on him too and he was starting to get sleepy also. A troublesome situation to be in and I wasn’t helping with my lack of communication. We managed it through a few micro trail naps. The 2 minute timer was back. It worked and sharpened us up a little. And I certainly slept this time. I had some vivid dream of Matt and his wife managing their laundry with some super fancy and advanced smart washing machine they operated from anywhere in the world. No idea where that came from.

We got to the next aid station Groznjan and it was stereotypical of the sort of aid stations you see towards the end of big races. The buzz and excitement has gone. The music and upbeat vibes are no more. It’s replaced with a sombre dark mood. A few runners spread out, some sleeping, some lost in thought, some just emotionless. Everyone exhausted. We needed sleep. We found a bench, got out our phones and set a timer for 10 mins. We placed our heads down on the table and tried to to get more sleep…

This was the one for me. This one worked and I got some rest. That and knowing it was 3 am and the sun was start bringing new life to us in around 3 hours and, as Matt said, we’d broken the race now. We just had the last 20 or so kms to go so were looking at 6-7 hours left. We’d probably finish about 2 hours later than we first thought. So not bad.

Section 10

From the aid station we found ourselves on a very long straight horrible gravel road. We passed through a number of tunnels. Matt commented that it must have been some old railway perhaps. I looked it up and we were on the ‘Parenzana Trail’ – it was indeed an old narrow-gauge railway that closed in 1935. It stretches for about 130km from Porec in Croatia, through Slovenia to Muggia in Italy. And yes, I’ve already found there is an ultra (various distances including an 88km one) held in February each year. And no, I’ve absolutely no interest in that. We didn’t enjoy this section – It was so straight, frustratingly so. We hated it in fact as it was so boring and the gravel wasn’t enjoyable to run on. Matt made a point of how crappy the 20km race must be if this is the route. After an eternity (yeah I know, it was only about 3 kms) we turned off the Parenzana trail. But what was to come was somehow worse. The trail became rockier with larger loose rocks. I had memories of Trans Gran Canaria (on a smaller scale).

The rocky track after leaving the Parenzana Trail

Sometime later we entered some forest tracks. The path was very twisty and narrow. I was now kicking my own ankles trying to avoid the rocks, but it was a very gradual downhill and I was speeding up though much to Matt’s frustration. I wasn’t trying to get a faster time but I really did want it (all of it, the race!) to end as soon as possible. Thankfully this was the shortest section of the whole course and we were soon breaking through the rocky forest as dawn started to break on our approach to Buje as we found ourselves ascending a road section to the final aid station. We sat under a heater and ate a little, lost in contemplation that we now had one final section left, 13km all of which was down hill apparently. But we knew that wasn’t the case…

Section 11

Of course we climbed in the town as soon as we left the aid station. Yeah not anything to really moan about but it’s just obvious and amusing when the aid station signs show and elevation profile with climbs and also state ‘0m’ of elevation gain. Sack the artist I said. Anyway, we passed through the town to the other side and had a little down hill on roads as we made our way to some fields.

From here we spent some time with some slight climbs in farmland which was again surprisingly very muddy. Eventually we left the farms and found ourselves running a few km along a river. This is where we were lucky as the weather meant the fields were dry and compact with just a thin sticky layer of surface mud. More fields and riversides tracks awaited us as the sunrise gave way to morning and we got progressively hotter again. The fields felt endless as we could see so far ahead and the outskirts of Umag started to become visible way off in the distance. Still so far away, it was a long time before we reached it. We left the fields and found ourselves on a cycle path leading to the centre of town.

Leaving the farmland and removing stones from my shoes

We slowly reached the seafront and small gatherings of people clapped and cheered us over their morning coffees (and beers for some!). I pushed back on Matt’s urge to run the final stretch. I gave in when we were just a few metres away. We walked across the finish line and turned for a big hi-five for the cameras. Relief set in and amusement followed as the MC announced our names followed by “oh you’ve done a lot of these” clearly seeing our UTMB accounts flash up with all our details. A lovely lady then gave us our medals (which are quite significant and weighty!) and took our photos for us. It was over. We were so glad that there were no more gravel tracks to be run!

Post race we walked back to the sports hall, had a shower and used all our free time to relax. We went to the massage area and had a complimentary massage and I sure got the works. A ‘four hands’ full body massage. The two guys worked my legs great, easing out all the tightness that had accumulated over the last two days. I was worried about how tender I was but the massage was great. The shoulders and back too, very relaxing. They even massaged my glutes and stretched me out. I really hit the jackpot!

We then caught the shuttle bus back to the hotel. It was still too early to check in but we took advantage of the post race meal which was a full buffet that we could help ourselves too. So much better than the usual post-race offerings. I filled up on Potatoes, fried chicken, beef stew and vegetables on repeat . After which we headed outside to the seafront and lay on the lounge beds and went to sleep. A timer set to wake us up ready for check in. Before we knew it we’d recovered a little, checked in and went about the next step of our pamper treatment – the spa. Swimming pool, saunas, steam rooms and Jacuzzis. We had a great few hours before it was time to eat again. Post race done well.

On reflection/ looking back…

Something I’ve not mentioned that surprised us was that there was so much rubbish on the route. It was clearly from runners and far too much to be accidental. From early on and more so in the later stages (which would have had all the races/event participants) there was discarded sports food wrappers everywhere. I’ve not seen so much dropped litter on a race before. Not sure why this would be the case. Oddly, we also saw a load of clothes discard on the trails. Not from runners though. But generic waste. It was a constant stream across the whole 100 miles and we noted enough to get fully kitted out at least twice over include rucksacks and hats and all. We thought it was odd as the trails are all quite isolated and don’t really go anywhere unless you cover a fair ol’ distance. Odd.

In terms of the race itself, for me it didn’t live up to my expectations and the hype. It’s clearly a lovely area and place to visit. But the nature of the 100miles meant it was all a bit meh really. Firstly we spent more time in the darkness of night than the day. So I assume we missed out on some probably excellent views, particularly the first night when we would have been at higher elevation. Secondly, there was a a real lack of variation in the trail. As I’ve moaned – the vast majority of trail is just gravel road. It’s far from enjoyable or interesting. The bit we enjoyed the most was the lush forest section after Brgudac. You also hear a lot about the amazing food at the event, but we didn’t think it was anything that special. All the aid stations were the same generic UTMB aid stations setups with bread, crisps, chocolate, pretzels, cheese, meat and sponsored sports stuff from naak. The hot food offering at Buzet was certainly better than most races provide but hardly anything worth raving to your mates about. That said, the volunteers were excellent and the event was exceptionally well organised. There was more than enough food for everyone, the link with the hotel with the shuttle bus service and post race meal was very good. It’s certainly a great exemplar for organisation and would be excellent for a experience for a relative newcomer to such events. The course markings were also some of the best I’ve experienced. No chance of going wrong on this course.

Course markings were obvious and plentiful

Overall though, as it goes for me, if I were to try and rank all the ‘milers’ I’ve done (which I’ve clearly gone and ranked) then it’s probably down as 4th in the list of 5 ‘milers’ I’ve completed (and I broke my ankle on one of the higher ranking ones and another gave about 900 runners the shits afterwards!). I just didn’t think the route and the trails are that enjoyable.

Other than that, I am quite pleased with how we came out on the other side. Neither of us had any problems, and after the massage were both walking fine. My ankles also seem to have held up ok, so my initial worries are no more and although my feet are very raw, I’ve only a few tiny blisters. Taking time to stop and empty stones from my shoes and apply plasters and tape definitely helped! So I’m pleased with my decision making mid run!

2023 – Looking Back

Published on January 2, 2024January 2, 2024 by runwithdaiLeave a comment

As another calendar year comes to a close, its time for my annual self indulgent ‘look at me’ post. My diary entry if you like, reflecting on the last 12 months of running.

Looking back this year somehow feels a little different. Admittedly there is a little less motivation and enthusiasm in my words and also in ‘me’. There’s probably a few good reasons. Firstly injuries. These are becoming more frequent and a little harder to deal with, naturally this means my body is changing and there is some lack of satisfaction and ‘body confidence’ issues linked to this too. The last year has probably included the most amount of ‘down time’ from any of the last 5 years or so of running. It shouldn’t be a surprise to me because the variety of supplementary exercise and strength training I do has dropped significantly, the past few years of excessive running is probably having an impact and I am also getting older. I’ve also been doing this a while and I think a small part of the novelty of it all is wearing off. It isn’t quite the ‘been there, done that, have the t shirt’ (literally), but I am finding I am becoming more particular in what I want in events and races as the trail running landscape changes. And that too is probably a small part of my decreasing enthusiasm, even in the short time I’ve been running the trail running sport is changing and not always in a direction I agree with. Whilst I’m still fairly new to the sport, it has changed from what I first got involved in with social groups and shared passion and the sport is now becoming more and more commercialised and overcrowded. So the vibe is changing, and I’m changing too. That is ok though. Change is good and all being said, I haven’t withdrawn and am continuing as I always do (repeating the same mistakes also!)…

So looking back to where the year began and starting 2023 I was a little cautious. Despite finishing 2022 on the high of completing the Cheviot Goat, I was still very much aware of my healing broken ankle. Distance and speed were being restrained and I tried to train consistently but more conservatively with the trip to Trans Gran Canaria looming just a few weeks away. Those chains were torn off fairly quickly though thanks to the scheming of Paul and Darryl and in January we were in the Lake District running the George Fisher Tea Round – a 50km circular route joining up the peaks visible from the Abraham Tea shop at George Fisher shop in Kendal. It was brilliant. Such an incredible experience as the Lakes were covered in a thick blanket of snow for the weekend. I’ve never seen that much snow and it made for a glorious adventure. It was tough going but enjoyable and good practice for some of the events later in the year that were also likely to involve covering snow capped mountains. The ankle held up fine which boosted my confidence. The only concern being a short period of temporary blindness in my left eye during the later stages of the run and into the next morning. We put it down to ‘snow blindness’ once my vision was restored though and I didn’t think about it again.

A few weeks later and I was back in Trans Gran Canaria, 4 years after I first ran the 129km classic event. This would be a different experience as I’d be sharing the adventure with Paul and Darryl. Having company certainly made it more enjoyable and many of the ‘things ‘difficult’ parts I recalled were not as bad as I previously thought they were. That said, many parts I’d forgotten completely and I didn’t enjoy as much this time around! The changes to the route were overall more enjoyable I think and I was certainly glad the remaining distance after the river bed wasn’t as far as it was in 2019! We all came away a little beaten up by this event and its probably arguable whether we actually enjoyed it. TGC continues to blur the lines for me!

In March I didn’t have a race planned, but I did make a trip to Snowdon for more running adventures with the ‘Running Addicts‘. Just like the Lakes two months earlier, North Wales was covered in snow and the weather was challenging. We had a lot of fun bounding down the trails passing hikers clambering on all fours with ice axes and crampons (completely unnecessary!). Unexpectedly this was another weekend of getting used to snowy conditions which I thought would come in handy later in the year.

In a little break from the usual, I actually took a holiday in May. Natalia and I spent a week in Malta which was lovely and a good chance to rest. Although we did finish the week with a trip to the Island of Gozo where we met Nick and Elise and, of course, ran a race – the Xterra 50km. A beautiful circumnavigation around the whole island. It was very hot and uncomfortable and we all struggled with the heat, particularly early on. However the views and landscape was beautiful (by far the best of the trip!) and we encouraged each other through to the finish. This was also a huge achievement for Elise as this was her first trail run and she sped around the 25km course.

Later in May things stepped up a level. Two weeks after Malta it was off to Bran, Romania for the Transylvannia 100. I’d been looking forward to this one so much. After some last minute panic purchases (micro spikes!) we hit the trails. The race directors advice was clear – be prepared for bad weather, as there was far more snow cover than usual. The spikes were put to good use from very early on and I’m not sure we would have made it up the infamous ‘chimney’ without them. This was probably the steepest climb I’ve ever encountered on a race. Everything was going well, until it wasn’t. A fall and slide on the snowy mountain meant I broke both my (pretty new!) Leki poles just 30km in. It slowed my progress dramatically and put me into a foul (but determined!) mood. Being a little shock up from it all and not thinking clearly I made some terrible decisions to the race and my feet paid the price with awful blistering and trench foot. I hobbled to the finish line (with the use of a stick I found!) and the next morning, as I struggled to walk, I started to worry as I had just 6 days before I’d be running 100 miles in Norway.

With lots of salt water baths, foot cream and copious amounts of Duo Derm (thanks Elise!) I rocked up at the airport with my feet surprisingly healed enough that I could walk without pain. I was confident now I’d be ok as Paul, Matt and I embarked on the Article Triple 100 mile event in the Lofoten region of Norway. Wow, just wow. This event was something else. A small group of maybe 30 or so runners were hustled onto buses and boats as we made our way to the start line that was literally in the middle of nowhere. We then set off on an unforgettable adventure running 100miles back to Svolvear. Sadly this experience didn’t quite go the way we hoped and we were timed out at 92 miles as we arrived about 30mins passed the cut off. It was challenging, but mostly without drama (I did lose sight in my left eye again for many hours though!) but we were simply not fast enough. The terrain was challenging and we couldn’t cover the ground in the speed required to make it through the cut offs. Sure we would have continued if they let us, but we also wouldn’t have made the finish line cut off either. Lofoten will forever be the first DNF and the one that got away. I’m ok with it, but I’m also definitely not OK with it. There will be a chip on my shoulder until I go back and conquer that race….

Thankfully though I didn’t have much time to sit and dwell on the failure. In two weeks I’d be lacing up to go again, this time in the fa drier and more comfortable surroundings of Salzburg in Austria for the Mozart 100. With my feet taking another battering in Norway I was worried about the tight cut off in Austria. However, everything worked out fine and I got through the race in a surprisingly speedy time ahead of my expectations. I was relieved, so relieved. The last thing I wanted was two consecutive failures. Mozart made sure my confidence wasn’t broken and my view on the DNF at Lofoten softened a little. I took a few weeks off and laid low to recover from the exertion of the last two months.

Frustratingly though, when I started running again I found my right shin was causing some pain and discomfort. I got straight back to my old mentality and ignored it. Enjoying the last of summer running alone, and running with friends. Come August I helped pace Maria as she ran the NDW100, completing four of the centurion 100 milers in a 12 month period – way to go Maria! Later that month I found myself out on a 50km run called the ‘Hangman Ultra‘ which I heard about many years earlier. There were only a few entrants with maybe around 25 of us running. I had some weird thoughts that I could win it (of course I couldn’t!) but did come 5th which made me happy. Despite the achy leg, I was back out doing what I loved – exploring somewhere new.

August didn’t end there though and the last week saw another trip to Chamonix for UTMB week, this time with Natalia as she ran the OCC. I made my own variation and ran about 40km from Vallorcine to Trient and back to Chamonix so that I could be at a few aid stations and support and cheer her through the race. It was so good to see her smile her way around and smash the race in a brilliant time! I certainly felt it the next day as I’m not used to running so fast (as I had to speed downhills to make sure I could beat her between the aid stations!) and felt worse that I do after most races!

Shortly after getting back to the UK I found myself in the Lake District yet again, this time for the Maverick X-Series Lakes event. Another 50km loop in a part of the Lake District I’ve never been too. It was great, my new favourite Maverick event and a fantastic route. As always the organisation from the Maverick team was the greatest. I had such a great time on this little solo trip and was so glad I did it. One I’d highly recommend.

It didn’t stop there though as two weeks after the Maverick Race Natalia and I were off to the ‘salubrious’ (Ha!) Swindon for the Swindon Ultra Trail. More and more I want to run in places I’ve not been before, and whilst Swindon isn’t appealing, it is somewhere new. I did enjoy the route and we did get to explore some lovely areas (like a little jaunt along the ridgeway). Admittedly though we were gad when it was over and we were back in London!

I don’t like saying it but feel I need to though – I wouldn’t recommend this organiser – Only Foot Print Events. Despite what I said after the race about the organisation, things became sour in the weeks afterwards. I signed up to another of their events “the Great Stones Way” in November which was later cancelled for very understandable reasons. However, after being offered a full refund, I’m still, two months later chasing this up (as are Darryl and Paul) as the organiser has stopped responding to all messages (calls, emails, social media messages, and messages from the booking platform etc.,). So sadly they are not to be trusted and I’d advise everyone to avoid. I don’t enjoy saying that about a small company but the silence and being ignored is not acceptable.

Anyway, back onto the good times. a week after Swindon I was in Chicago for the Chicago marathon. My first road marathon since 2019. I enjoyed it. I Planned to be conservative and look after my still niggly leg but got caught up in the vibes and good feelings. I finished quicker than I anticipated and of course my mind then started thinking that maybe another Boston qualifying time might be possible in the future… though, trails are my love and I’m not going to get back into road running any time soon.

I ‘finished’ the year in November. After the cancellation of the Great Stones Way, I joined Jon’s group who’d organised to do a recce of a section of the Pennine way he’d be running on the Winter Spine in January. Sadly Jon couldn’t make the recce in the end, so me and the ‘ladies’ changed the plans and the route to incorporate the Yorkshire 3 Peaks instead. It was a wicked little adventure and somewhere I’d been hoping to visit one day so I was glad our plans changed and we didn’t stay on the Pennine way (sorry Jon!). I say I finished the year on this trip as I haven’t run since. It has been 5 weeks and counting at the time of writing this. My niggly leg became more painful on this run and I finally accepted, after 6 months and over 1000 kms that I needed to do something about it.

In December I saw a physio and it looks like it might be that shin splint stuff. So I’ve agreed to rest longer and am doing some rehab exercises in the hope that I don’t fuck up the plans made for 2024! Looking back though, its been another incredible year with 11 events and some amazing adventures. There are memories there that will never be forgotten.