UTMB

Buying into the hype and getting kitted up at sponsored advertisement boards

UTMB, the Ultra Trail du Mont Blanc, has a certain pomp and air to it. For those less familiar with the brand, it’s one of the largest trail running races across the globe and the organisation recently partnered to Iron Man with mixed public reaction. Think bigger brand, bigger costs, new sponsors and processes including a new series of ‘by UTMB’ branded events across the world that form the qualifiers for a “World Series”. The final of the world series being the UTMB events in August. Basically it’s changed. For good or for worse, that the Brand will decide. Either way, some 10,000 punters show up for one of the many races of the UTMB:

  • UTMB – 171 km (106 Miles)
  • TDS – 147km
  • CCC – 100km
  • OCC – 55km
  • MCC – 40km (for locals)
  • PTL – a Whopping 300km team event
  • YCC – various distances for youth ages
  • Les Mini UTMB – for the little ones
  • And now the ETC – 15km

I’ve been very fortunate to have previously completed both the CCC and the TDS. Now, after completing Val d Aran by UTMB through which I gained a one-off guaranteed entry to UTMB, I find myself towing the start line at the main event, the 100m ‘Series Final’ that is UTMB.

Years in the making, finisher of the CCC, TDS and now UTMB

Running 100miles in the mountains takes a long time for mere mortals like me. Over this time you think of so many things and also decide to explicitly not think of so many things too. I’ve recapped and recalled long races before and I find it’s often as exhausting as the race itself. So I decided I’m not going to put myself through that pain and recap mile by mile of my UTMB experience. Instead, what follows is a dump of thoughts and recollections with a shorter summary of the event. The 45 hours of running will mostly stay between me, Paul and Matt.

The Event

I mentioned that somewhere in the region of 10,000 punters show up for the UTMB races. Granted this is staggered over a week with the PTL beginning the proceedings and closing it along with UTMB on the final Sunday in August, but, add in family and friends along with the usual number of tourists and the small towns the races pass through are bursting at the seems. Chamonix in particular is very, very busy during race week (and leading up to it). If you don’t like crowds and the pomp then you probably won’t like this event!

On the plus side, big crowds add to the atmosphere and vibes. Watching finishers of other races and supporting runners from all over the world is incredible. Watching the true greats of the sport ‘competing’ with people like me is fascinating and exciting. Although I imagine it is less exciting for the pros as they get mobbed in the streets and have to partake in all manner of commercial appearances before and after the races. The towns really are a little mental during this time. On our race, hitting Les Houches in the early evening on Friday, and Saint-Gervais a few hours later was a crazy experience. Saint-Gervais in particular was pumping with loud music and people lining the streets cheering and supporting runners for hours on end.

Finishing early afternoon on Sunday was quite a surreal experience too. The last of the finishers would be just an hour behind us and the crowds had gathered ready to cheer them home. So we benefitted from a great finish line atmosphere with thousands of people in the streets cheering and clapping runners across the line (you run a good km through the town, past all the pubs and restaurants, to get to the finish line). Having experienced an early Saturday am finish on the CCC and a midweek, midday, finish on the TDS, this UTMB finish really was on another level. As a participant in the ‘main event’ you really are put on a pedestal and cheered like nothing else I’ve experienced.

The course

The UTMB takes in three countries as you loop around Mont Blanc from France, into Italy, crossing into Switzerland before reaching back into France and approaching Chamonix from the other direction. The route is 106miles, covers 10,400m of vertical gain (and also descent!) and crosses through a number of major towns including Chamonix, Courmayeur and Champex Lac. With 15 major aid stations and many more checkpoints/timing points along the way. It’s a military operation. And that’s just one of the races!

The Alpine trails are stunning. For much of UTMB the trails are very, very runnable. There are, inevitably, some rocky sections and some of the climbs are tough. But on the whole the trails aren’t technical on the UTMB (unlike it’s sister the TDS, which takes in some more technical routes from Courmayeur back to Chamonix) nor the climbs/descents too long. In my experience, the terrain alone makes it a very straight forward route and one which shouldn’t be feared. Combining with the distance and elevation though makes for a far tougher beast and it is fair to say I underestimated just how hard this course is.

There are many climbs and summits and at a few points, including the Col de la Seigne (where you cross from France to Italy) and also Grand Col Ferret (where you cross from Italy to Switzerland) you reach an altitude of >2500m. You’re high up in the Alps. The mountains don’t care about us humans, we are just visitors riding our luck at anytime. The weather will turn and the mountains will serve you your ass on a plate if you’re not ready. There is extensive mandatory kit for the races (and in the exception of ‘cold’ weather or ‘hot’ weather there are also additional mandatory kit lists that can be activated the day before the race begins). For us, in 2022, it was thankfully just the normal kit list that was activated. Although, for the first time in my UTMB experience the Organisers didn’t check everyone’s kit on registration. There were subsequent kit checks during the race though.

The 106 miles of the route is a long way. I thought about this alot over the 40 hours. It is the 4th time I’ve run 100miles and I’m beginning to accept what a challenge it actually is. As time ticked by we carried on flirting with cut offs. We were never in danger of being ‘timed-out’ but I was very aware that time could easily be against us at any point. I also wondered how it was so comparable (time wise) to Val D’Aran which felt far harder with more technical terrain and bigger climbs. Truth is, it’s because 100 miles really is a long way. It will take a while to cover on foot regardless of where you are. And so it did take a while for us to cover on foot, we can’t escape that. 100miles in the Alps is also, unsurprisingly, not comparable to 100miles in the UK (although only one of my four 100 mile runs have been in the UK!). I should have already known that 100 miles is a long way. After completing UTMB I think I finally accept that it is!

Our Race

We expected rain and bad weather as, in the lead up to the event, the forecasts had predicted rain and some light storms throughout, we were preparing for a soggy two days. Come the day before, these forecasts had changed and it was looking increasingly likely that we’d have a dry run. I can’t explain how much this would have helped. Thankfully that is how it stayed and, other than some light rain at the start whilst we waited to begin, we avoided all bad weather across the course. If anything, it was a little hot during the day time and on some of the climbs where shade was limited! We were very fortunate.

Waiting to start

Together we were stronger. Matt said after the race that there were points he wondered if he’d enjoy it more alone. I already know the answer to that. I wouldn’t have. I enjoy the company and the distraction from the task. All three of us started together and finished together. That’s a wonderful thing. Over 45 hours we never left each other’s sides. We could have. Mostly Matt could have left me and Paul behind (like we’d left him at Eiger), but he didn’t. Early in the first night Paul went through a tough number of hours of nausea and sickness. He struggled through it and came out the other side (picking up in Italy!). From Courmayeur onwards I moaned about my ankle/leg and could barely run. This slowed us down a lot! Courmayeur is roughly the halfway point and the guys could have left me many times but didn’t. I’m thankful for them sticking it out with me and sacrificing a quicker finish time to help me through. Again, without them I’m not sure whether I would have succumb to the darker thoughts that taunted me over the last 24 hours.

Hoka Light Tunnel

Leaving Chamonix was mental and the first 8km to Les Houches flew by, as did the first climb over Le Delevret to Saint-Gervais with the sun setting just as we came close to the end of the downhill. The town was one giant party. It was full on and very noisy. It was great and the atomosphere was a talking point amongst runners. For me, the first night was mostly enjoyable. After a flying visit through Les Contamines we were running through the Hoka ‘light show’. The sponsors had errected a big tunnel of light and covered the surrounding area in further lights. It was a bit odd and very cheesy. But it was different and for as few moments the night was alive. We ran through the darkness, over La Balme and Col du Bonhomme (where we unfortunately witnesses someone being airlifted from the course) and descended into Les Chapieux at around 50km in the early hours of the morning. It was a long climb from here which, despite feeling my ankles hurting I rather enjoyed as we reached the Col de la Seigne into Italy just in time for sunrise. The sunrise was beautiful. We stopped for a moment and enjoyed the subsequent climb to Pyramides Calcaires which was rather rocky and more technical than the previous 60km we’d run. There was a long descent into the morning to the next major aid station that was Lac Combal. However, things were starting to become far less enjoyable by now.

Into Italy

After enduring a difficult night, Paul was back to his ‘normal’ self as the day began brightening up and generally we were all running well. We had one plan which was to get to Courmayeur without being screwed up! If we could reach halfway with our quads and ankles intact we were all confident for the second half of the course (which follows pretty much the CCC route which we’d all previously completed). So far everything was going to OK but the plan started to unravel slightly as the morning heated up and we began the steep descent into Courmayeur. The steep and dusty trails were hard work and my left ankle was now constantly in Pain. My form had gone out of the window and I was lumbering downhill whichever way I could. The dust the runners were kicking up was unavoidable and we all arrived into the halfway point with dry and dusty throats.

Out of Courmayeur we began the CCC route albeit with a different climb to Refuge Bertone. Rather than the longer route via Tete de la Tronche we went the more direct way, pretty much straight up. It was tough in the heat as we slowly climbed through the forests. By now there was a lot of pain in my left ankle/shin. I was struggling to run but knew I wanted to keep going, it wasn’t even a question I would entertain, I was finishing this race. From Bertone we ran the ‘balcon’ to Refuge Bonatti and again further on to Arnouvaz from where we would begin the climb up to Grand Col Ferret (aka ‘Grand Colin Farrel’). I recalled this section and that it was stunning and enjoyable. It still was, although I wasn’t able to ‘run’ too much. We were also starting to tire at this point and took a moment at Bonatti to lay in the sun and close our eyes for a few mins (being woken by ants biting us!). The climb to Col Ferret was easy going and this was the first time (on my third visit) where I could see the Col clearly. It was visible towards the end of the climb with the wind quickly blowing the clouds away before they could settle.

Into Switzerland

Now in Switzerland, it was a long downhill to La Fouly. I knew it would hurt. And it did hurt. I was struggling badly now. Climbing was ok, and I knew I could cover ground at a faster than our average pace when going uphill, but the descents were too much for me. Paul and Matt encouraged me when they could but I was starting accept though that I simply could not move any faster, physically it was beyond me. It wasn’t just the pain, but the range of motion I had in my left ankle/foot was now very limited and I couldn’t push off my left foot. I was already thinking about the three big descents still to come later in the race and I couldn’t believe we still had 60km+ to run and so I was a little bit deflated. We’d agreed we’d try and sleep at Champex-Lac for 20 mins so the initial goal was to get through La Fouly and cover the 14km to Champex-Lac. The slog there was very slow (yep, because of me). I remembered I liked this section on the CCC as we ran through the forests and mountain tracks to Praz de Fort, which I really liked, and also the climb to Champex-Lac through Sentier des Champignons with all the wood carvings. Paul didn’t enjoy it so much but we were all decent fast-hikers so, despite my inability to run, we we still covering the ground at an acceptable pace and eventually reached the aid station with plenty of time for the planned sleep.

We dived dived straight into the sleeping tents. Selfishly I found one and went to work. As soon as I laid down I was shivering. I couldn’t stop it. I should probably have changed into dry clothes first but was so tired I could only think of maximising the sleeping time! Once awake, but very spaced out, Lisa, Martin and Mike went to work fixing us up and sending us back into the night. First up it was the monster climb to Refuge Bovine and we summited deep into the night. Struggling down the descent to Trient (passing through the shithouse party stop that is a barn at La Giete) we then reached Trient just as day was breaking. Mike was there again and over saw another 10 minute power snooze. With the morning chill on our side we powered up the climb to Les Tseppes. We then lost a lot of ground on the ‘nice’ downhill to Vallorcine. We were feeling it now, I was broken and in constant pain and Paul was feeling his quads due to all the downhills. Matt seemed absolutely fine. We were in a good place though knowing that we finally had one ‘climb’ and one ‘descent’ left to conquer. We didn’t stick around too long at Vallorcine and began the climb to La Tete Aux Vents in the midday heat. It was of course a bastard. A rocky climb with no shade and a rocky traverse over to the checkpoint. It wasn’t easy. But I was more worried of the final descent from La Flegere. A whopping 800m downhill to go back to the finish line in Chamonix. The traverse to La Flegere was frustrating and the downhill excruciating. Somehow though we were moving quick enough to be passing more people than whom overtook us. Jana, Paul, Jess and Mikkel came to meet us near Chalet De La Floria and to support us for the last few kms. And then it was the ‘km’ run around the town. The crowds. The cheers. The elation. We’d done it. It happened. We were UTMB finishers.

Finishers

The people

I’ve saved it till last, but most importantly, this race was all about the people. Firstly Me, Paul and Matt. We were running it. It was for us, by us. We all had our different reasons and motives for being there and the race meant different things to each of us. We’d all worked hard to qualify and prepare ourselves to be at the start line. So it was our race. We were doing it our way. We’d discussed various potential finish times, but these were scrapped pretty much as soon as we started. We were all of the same mindset though and we had one simply mantra we shared from the “it’s happening”. Nothing was going to stop it from happening that’s what we said going into it. It came up several times during the two days and in the final minutes the mantra shifted tense to “It Happened”.

Then there’s the crew. Unexpected, but absolutely essential and critical to us completing the race. Matt’s family – Dad Mike, wife Lara and son George along with Lisa and Martin were on crewing duties. Not always arranged or planned but they were popping up everywhere when we needed them most. They were all dotted along different places at the start in Chamonix and at the first checkpoint in Les Houche. Lara and Mike went to Courmayeur (80km in). Lisa and Martin showed up in Champex-Lac (120km in) with Mike and again on the last climb to La Flegere. Mike also made his way to Trient in the middle of the second night (and had to be sent home to get some sleep and ordered not to show up in Vallorcine too!). Of course they were all then at the finish line to see us finish.

Some of the crew team

Crewing is a crazy tough ask. The amount of travel, stress, lack of sleep and general thankless nature of following a smelly miserable runner around a race for hours on end is exhausting. Never mind doing it across three different countries! But without them, the outcome of the race would have been very different. From tending to our needs, making us eat, encouraging us, timing our sleeps (and in my case Mike stopping me from pouring coke on myself as I slept!), to giving us extra food and supplies, and so much more. All these things altered the outcome of our race for the better. We couldn’t have done it without them all. This really was a team effort. Whilst three of us ran, a team of us worked tirelessly to achieve the goal. I can’t thank them all enough.

Then there’s everyone else who was out in Chamonix, racing or supporting, who popped up to cheer somewhere along the way from the start line all the way through to the finish. And also all those who contacted us and sent messages of support. These acts of generosity and kindness meant so much to us and helped lift our spirits more than we could express. Big thanks to Jana, Jess, Paul and Mikkel who ran out to see us on the last descent and to all of Paul and Lisa’s family and friends spread across the world who were actively following and messaging us (we’d all spent a weekend together two weeks prior at Paul and Lisa’s wedding!).

Other thoughts

  • Starting UTMB near the back was a bit shitty. It was a slow start and we had bottlenecks on pretty much all the climbs and descents. We did what we could though, embracing the crowds and using them to our advantage to keep our pace slow and steady.
  • The Finish line time of day vibe is key for UTMB events. There’s very little after race love and attention at UTMB. It’s all about those few minutes as you run through the town and up the finish line. Time it wrong and finish too early and it’s a lonely, anti-climatic finish.
  • Chasing cut offs is not fun. It’s stressful. We weren’t as tight as last year during the VDA but I was constantly aware and calling them out, running the numbers and doing the math, re-evaluating are progress. It saps away at your spirit and makes you feel like you can’t do it.
  • Matt is the king of the power nap. Ten mins at a time and he’s refreshed. Me and Paul need to work on it.
  • The drop out rate as always is huge. 800 runners started but didn’t finish. For us it was perfect conditions. But there are so many reasons that could change that for each individual.
  • The aftermath – I talked about the pain I was in during the race. One week later and I still cannot walk. The swelling has subsided and the X-rays were clear (no break) but the diagnosis is still pending. Until then I’m in a support boot and still in pain. This time I’ve done something serious to my body. Right now I’d say it was worth it, but I can’t quite understand how I managed to keep going until the end!
  • The course record was smashed and for the first time the winner went under 20 hours. So did the second place finisher this year. To put that into perspective, there was a longer time between the first finisher and us finishing, than the time taken for the winner to complete the race. I can’t understand how they can cover the distance so quickly!
  • For perspective, Matt ran the whole race in brand new kit after his luggage was lost on route and didn’t turn up in time. How he didn’t stress and lose the plot I do not know. Most of us runners are meticulous in our planning and preparation, but Matt just accepted it for what it was and went with it. He’s such a calm and level-headed guy!

Eiger Ultra Trail – E101

The Eiger ultra trail. One that has been on my ‘list’ for some time. The E101 is a 100km route circling Grindelwald with a not too subtle >6,000m of elevation gain.

It’s 3:30am and Paul and I have met Matt at the start line in the shadows of the majestic mountains surrounding Grindelwald. Despite the early hour and darkness it is already very hot. We are upbeat and excited as the race gets underway and we pass through the start arch with hundreds of other runners.

Reunited a year after the VDA

For the first few kms we begin running up the Main Street and back passed our hotel. We made many promises about not running this gently inclining road section but, of course, we get completely sucked in and are moving along with the flow of the runners. Thankfully though we soon hit a bottleneck as we come across the trail head and the single track trail to begin our first climb. Here we chatted to Bert, a local runner with numerous finishes on the E101. He shared his experiences with us and gave us an insight into what adventures lay ahead.

The climb was a series of switchbacks through some forests at what was a very civilised pace. No one was trying to jostle for positions or overtake and everyone was comfortable just moving along together. It was quiet and all we could hear in the night was each other as we chatted away. We met Matt during the Val D Aran last year and this was the first time we’d met since and really the first real time we’d gotten to know each other properly. Looking back at Val D’Aran all we really did was moan at each other.

Runners in the night

As we climbed, we started to leave the trees behind and the mountain started to open up and we could look back and see the sun rising over the Eiger and the tail of runners climbing both ahead and behind us. It was a surreal view. We then soon arrived at the first aid station which had a very narrow setup and led to the runners being funnelled, but it had everything we needed. A quick top up of water and we continued on.

Now, on the ‘second section’ of the course we had our first chance to run and move at a comfortable pace as the trails opened up on the mountain. We rolled along enjoying the incredible panoramic over Grindelwald with the majestic Eiger standing prominent behind the town. The sun was now up and the moon was fading.

The trails took us up towards ‘First’, but not quite all the way. Just before the final climb to the summit, the route diverted us away and we began the first descent. Bert was with us once more and told us this was the ‘easy’ downhill and to save our legs. I’m not sure there was much we could do to save our legs as the steepness of the sealed track meant gravity was in control here.

The downhill was long and sweeping as we looped back and forth on switchbacks used for the mountain carts. Our legs thumped at the ground and our feet heated up with the constant slapping. As we came upon the Firstbahn station we had a brief rest bite at the aidstation, once more ensuring we had enough water consumed and packed as we’d now begin the climb back to the summit of First. At around 10am the day was truly heating up now and the sun could be felt on our exposed skin.

We had a basic plan for the heat management. It was as simple as ensuring we drank enough and smothered ourselves in plenty of suncream! So far all was good and I was confident my morning lathering would see me through to around midday, so at First we planned a little longer rest and to apply the next layer.

This climb once more started with a long forest section. The smells were fresh and clean. Segments of the route were a long series of steps made out of long longs. The legs were definitely ’feeling it’ after the previous quad-buster of a downhill. As we left the forest we were hit with the full force of the sun as we climbed an exposed track on the side of the mountain. There was no escaping it now until the final ascent to First not in the distance you could see the clear line of shadow where the angle of the mountain would block the sun’s rays.

The Sun burning brightly in the early morning

It was a lovely climb. The incline was gradual and gentle terrain still very forgiving and not too rocky. Into the shade we went into single line as we climbed the last few hundred metres to the summit. Here the route weaved you around the mountain side and under the tourist attraction of the summit viewing platform. A series of metal walkways were constructed and the views were incredible. Maarten, whom I met at MIUT and Cappadocia, was on hand to provide the support and loudly cheered us in. There was a small gathering of tourists and supporters over looking us from the platform as we made away along and under them. I whooped and cheered as me and Matt passed through but I had a very muted reply!

The shadow-y climb to the platform at First

This aid station was slightly larger than the two before and we took a few extra minutes to eat, acknowledging we were all hungry, and to apply more sunscreen. We chatted to another Irish Paul, enjoyed the view and then set off towards Faulhorn. Just as we set off once more Maarten provided the energy and gave us a mid-morning boost. From here we had clear views of the trails we’d run and could see Faulhorn off up in the distance. Faulhorn would be the highest point on the race at around 2,644m. The tracks were once more very forgiving and were long gentle gravel tracks. Once more, as I was sure it would all day, the Eiger stood proud and prominent watching our progress.

What a view!

Very soon we were at a series of lakes which were amazingly tranquil and provided a view looming back down onto First. We’d hardly noticed how high we’d climbed already. After weaving through the lakes, for the first time the trails turned a little more technical and became rocky and narrow for a short descent. As we began, the first of the 50km runners began to pass us and zipped by. The lead runner was flying up and down with ease (he went on to win with an incredible time!).

Lakes below Faulhorn

Before completing the climb to Faulhorn we had another aid station after descending a few hundred metres. This was the first time we were a bit confused. None of us could remember this on the route profile. Still, it was a fairly easy section with a very short out and back to to the water stop where I filled a third bottle of water ready for the climb. I’ve no idea how hot it was now but it felt above 30 degrees, although occasionally we’d catch a cooling breeze.

So after accepting that we hadn’t already started climbing to Faulhorn, we now began the climb. It was the toughest so far. Whilst it did feel marginally steeper than the earlier climbs, I think it was the heat which, was energy sapping, that made this more difficult. Matt drifted a little behind us and Paul powered on ahead. I was plodding somewhere between the two. Like Matt, I felt it a little harder to breathe with a regular rhythm as the progressive climb took all my energy. I put it to one side and focused on keeping up with Paul who was passing people frequently and getting further away. I saw him disappear over the summit as I lagged behind.

Up into Faulhorn there was a huge Eiger Ultra Trail arch erected on the summit marking our arrival to Faulhorn which we passed through. The views were spectacular and runners stopped on the platform to take selfies. I spotted Paul a few metered below at the water station and I went after him.

Initially this aid station was to be limited for water refills, however, the day before the race the organisers had added more water here, as well as additional water stops in the next section and later somewhere later on in the second half of the route. It was greatly appreciated and there was even coke available at Faulhorn. I broke my own ‘no coke before halfway’ rule and knocked some back. It was well earnt in this heat I thought.

The immediate descent from the aid station was rocky and once again a little more technical at first. It wasn’t long before we left the rocks behind and started descending into a valley. After passing a refuge/mountain cafe there was another rocky section as we continued downhill. We then looped back around with amazing views over the Brienzersee lake and across to the Hardergrat ridge (which Paul ran along a few weeks earlier). Check it out. It looks spectacular and terrifying in equal measures!

Through this section there were increasing number of hikers marking the trek in the opposite direction from Scheidegg to Faulhorn. We exchanged pleasantries with everyone as we passed. The trails then left the valley behind and levelled out to some lovely undulating trails with more expensive views off into the distance and the trails we’d run earlier in the day. Paul was checking up on Matt and they agreed we’d meet and wait at the halfway mark. It was just a very long descent over about 10 miles to go before we reached there.

First we hit up ‘Egg’, the extra water stop, and then eventually some switchbacks to another mountain lodge where there were plenty of supporters. As we left there was a family with small kids offering high fives which I, and all the runners around us, greatly indulged in. It’s such a boost to interact with people when running an ultra. Shortly after there was a man with a hose pipe spraying runners and me and Paul danced in the rain. It was so cooling and refreshing.

Paul and I both started to feel the need for more water, despite the extra stop and carrying an extra bottle we’d been drinking loads (the heat management plan was being perfectly executed so far). It felt like the next stop wasn’t coming anytime soon luckily we then spied a tap / trough on the side of a building and took advantage, Paul submerging his whole head. As we walked on, pleased with our find, we could see the next aid station was just a few hundred metres further ahead. Typical.

From here we entered the forest, and the descent began to steepen. The trails were narrow and the ground was littered with lumpy tree roots. It wasn’t easy underfoot and we accepted this is how it would be for quite some time. After what felt like a few km of consistent rooty downhill running, out of nowhere we started to climb again. I was furious. It couldn’t visualise it on the elevation profile. It hit me hard. I called out to Paul that I needed a break. Like hours earlier on the climb to Faulhorn, my breathing was erratic again. Every race profile is like this and has those sections where you are going downhill but have a ‘hidden’ uphill included (or vice versa). The distance and elevation never easily transfers to a small visual elevation profile. It really messes with your mind sometimes and, today, it was messing with me. It took my strength and my energy and I needed a few mins sitting on a rock to regain composure and carry on. Fucking tree routes!

We were soon back in the rhythm and then, for the first time ever in a race, I hit the deck. I went down like I’d been tasered. Mid-flow I got cramp in my right calf and my lower body just seized up. I did a quarter of a turn and just fell, rigid and straight, down bouncing off what I thought was my left arm and shoulder. On the floor I then instantly got cramp in my other calf too and couldn’t get up. I was like a bug on its back flailing my. A runner coming behind called out and I’ve no idea what I mumbled back as I slowly relaxed and clambered back to my feet. It seemed like my left arm had come out and broken the fall and I had a few little indents on my palm from small stones. Somehow despite all the roots I’d fallen on a fairly clear and soft area. Frustratingly though, covered in sweat it was like I’d been dipped in breadcrumbs. My arms and hands were covered in soil and I was now irritable. I’m amazed I’ve lasted this long without falling before. With no issues or concerns we just got back on with it.

I don’t know how much longer the downhill carried on for, but there was one last steep section through a field as we approached the halfway mark.

I set about the full works. Pasta. Potatoe. More coke. Full wet wipe wash. Tshirt change. Sock and shoe change. Fresh hat. Fresh buff and more food and tailwind added to the bag. Not long after as we were getting ready to leave, Matt showed up. I made a big mistake here and led the decision to crack on without him. We said we’d wait, and he was bang on schedule for a 22:45hr finish. I said me and Paul wanted to try and finish in under 22 which was the qualifier time for western states. So we left without him. It was a mistake as, despite running the next 50km without him, he finished only 10 mins behind us, bang on that 22:45hr finish. Sorry Matt!

From the half way we had a series of two big climbs to overcome. The first climb was before the town of venkat. It started with a series of roads climbing on switchbacks. Here we Met another Swiss runner in Nicole who was doing her first ultra and chasing that sun 22hr finish also. We chatted as we climbed before the roads changed into forest tracks again. They were rooty, but not as bad as before. Some sections where steep and it was very humid with little wind or breeze reaching us. Occasionally we’d get a burst of sun and see the mountain alongside us. Slowly we tracked around the side of it.

There was also a brief stop where there was another water tap. From here we were back into the forests and making our way down hill to Wegen. One thing that was noticeable here was that we started seeing a lot of volunteers and mountain rescue dotted along the course. We were being very well Looked after! On the downhill I continued to cramp. I was cramping in my ankles and shins which was a whole new weird experience which I don’t know how to describe. Thankfully nothing too bad though.

The town of Wengen was delightful and I made a note to come and visit one day, it was very picturesque. We weaved through the aid station after collecting more water and coke and began the big climb to Mannlichen which was approximately 1,000m gain in around 5km. Pretty much a vertical Kilometer (VK).

After climbing through some narrow back streets of the town, we were yet again back in the forest. Every time there was an opening I tried to see where the hell we were going, but I couldn’t. I could see the end goal of Mannlichen on top of the mountain, but I could rarely see any runners on the mountain side climbing. I was so confused. Paul and I agreed to break the climb up. There was the extra aid station somewhere along here so we agreed to stop again before and after it. Paul was the time keeper and I was eager to test him and push the limit of how long I could stay sitting down for!

Climbing out of Wengen

We weren’t alone and there were plenty of runners we passed and who passed us. At each stop we got talking to Jason, yet another Irishman, as we leapfrogged each other along this section. The route took us across the mountain face and through a series of snow barriers built to protect the town which was way down below us now. The breaks, and the water stop, were greatly appreciated. As we eventually summited a friendly voice called out and cheered our arrival. Like earlier in the day at First, Maarten was above us supporting and crewing runners reaching the aid station. He followed us into the aid station and tended to our needs like a hero. I was very hungry again and slowly ate a Chia Charge flap jack and remember Paul bringing me lumps of chocolate. It was very good chocolate!

A mid-climb view back down to Wengen

Up top it was cold. Very cold. We discussed layering up and I acknowledged my stupidity in not bringing my arm sleeves or lightweight wind proof from my halfway drop bag. I always run with them but for some reason I purposely didn’t this time. Whilst I knew we’d run into the night, I guess I was so focused on the heat of the day that I didn’t think they would be needed. It wasn’t a problem though as I had a long sleeve top and a waterproof jacket in my bag, so I certainly wouldn’t be getting too cold. We cracked on, knowing that we’d warm up when we began running again. And boy did we run…

We acknowledged that we’d ‘broken the back of the beast’ now. There were no more aggressive climbs to come our way and we were probably 3/4 of our way through the distance by now. It was a huge boost. What made it better was that the trails were very wide, smooth and it was a very gentle downhill. It felt like we were running so fast for a few km as we were running straight toward the Eiger’s north face which was covered in cloud. What a sight it was.

All good things come to an end though, and so did the easy downhill as we then turned away from Grindelwald and headed off-track for another (comparatively) little climb. It was a little punchy and I remember passing loads of cows here. I was constantly looking to my left and across to the Eiger where I could see there were so many trails, but I couldn’t see a single runner on any of them. Once again I was disoriented and I had no idea where we were going. I knew we’d come back along the Eiger towards Grindelwald somewhere, but I just couldn’t see where. The tracks kept twisting and turning and my sense of direction was getting a little messed up. Eventually we dropped down and joined a wide gravel path again, crossed a train track and walked up a gentle hill towards the next aid station.

Paul and the cows

There was a runner here squatting down taking a picture of the Eiger reflecting in a small pond. As painful as it was, we stopped and indulged for the same picture. It was worth it.

Worth the discomfort of a mid race squat

We were soon at the next aid station. This was quite possibly the best location of any aid station I’ve ever been too. It was inside a train depot. It was getting dark and colder outside but inside it was so warm and smelt of oil. I loved it. Here we found some warm broth which was exactly the salty delight I needed. Sitting, eating, I looked around and noticed it was a little like a medical centre with a number of runners sleeping or receiving medical attention.

Train depot aid station!

After a good 15 minutes or so, we left and headed back out for a short little downhill before climbing again to the Eiger Glacier. We passed a runner who was being sick but whom signalled he was ok. Then, moments later as we started to climb he sprinted passed us and continued to run the uphill. I couldn’t understand his miraculous recovery! It was around 9:30 now and our head torches were on as the last of the light started to leave us.

The climb up to Eiger Glacier was tough going. It was a mixture of dry trail (with more cows lining the track!) and little rocky sections. In parts it was steep with some narrow switchback trails before a long climb on a small ridge. It was another slow climb and one which slowly chipped away at our depleting energy levels. We took another moment at the top before beginning the descent towards the finish. It was a very long descent of around 1,200m over 10km kilometres back towards Grindelwald.

It was now obvious why, hours earlier, I couldn’t see any runners on any of the trails. We were tucked right up close on the mountain face. To our left the mountain dropped away on long scree slopes. Way off to our left headlights of runners descending form Mannlichen could be seen.

The trails were runnable. Not as nice as the initial descent from Mannlichen but the rocks were well trodden and flattened to the track for the most part. As we ran, we were in silence and all we could hear were the many, many waterfalls falling from the Eiger which we’d cross one after the other. After what felt like a long few kilometre of steady plodding the relaxing sound of water started increasing and becoming more ferocious. There was one huge waterfall absolutely gushing from the mountain and the sound was thunderous. From here we began descending at a steeper rate on a series of increasingly more rocky switchbacks. Surprisingly my feet were holding up very well. I feel the trails had been incredibly easy going and forgiving on this route considering we were running in such a mountainous area. The quads were definitely feeling it now though and the fatigue was kicking in!

For a while, Paul and I had been discussing what remained of the route. I recalled one big climb once we bottomed out from this descent. We’d heard mixed reports of the elevation ranging from 200m to 600m. We didn’t know. What we did know was that we didn’t want a 600m climb! We soon reached the next aid station, and I clocked the elevation profile on a board. My heart sank a little as I saw we still had plenty of descending to go as well as another small climb before another much bigger one. Paul asked for details and again a new number was thrown out about how big the last climb was “maybe 400m”. A bit deflated, we carried on with the remaining descent which was now on road (which didn’t make it any easier at this stage!).

Finally, we levelled out and began the last 10km or so of the route which would see us run parallel to Grindelwald, passing it before looping back and down into the town. From here we could see the finish line in the town. It is annoying seeing a finish line during a race and heading in the opposite direction, and this time was no different, especially as we were running ever so slowing now.

We began the little climb, although it went on and on and I clocked another 200m. Here the trails were very technical forest trials, yet again (and unsurprisingly) littered with roots once more. Our mood was sinking but we knew we just had to keep moving. After another hour or so we reached a small little aid station. Paul questioned the distance and vertical gain here too and we received a far more favourable response of “280m”. This was good. I perked up and and cracked a lot of jokes to the volunteers. I felt like I was on stage and absolutely killing it. They were probably just wishing I’d leave already. Eventually we did.

As we progressed along the 280m climb, a few runners caught and passed us. We kept our heads down and moved along and we’re joined by another runner whom we chatted to at the last stop. He was craving a bit of company in the night. Pretty much bang on 280m we arrived at Feinsteing. I was impressed. If anything, the root marking and distance markers were exceptional throughout. The trails had dedicated Eiger Ultra Trail flags, glow sticks, arrows on the ground, reflective paint throughout and even Eiger Ultra Trail specific trail signs. At every 5km/10km marker my watch had been pretty much in sync too. I’ve never had that before. Although Paul would argue differently with his Suunto (same model) clocking slightly longer. Anyway, from here it was about 4km downhill on road to the town with a small uphill towards the end to join the main street where it all began.

We begrudgingly left the comfort of the final aid station, acknowledging that a Western States qualifying time was beyond us now. There’s no way we were clocking a 30min 5km pace (even downhill) after running all day. We calculated that the 4km remaining would take more like 40mins. The downhill and roads weren’t particularly enjoyable. Now my feet were hurting after that last technical section and I wasn’t enjoying the feet slapping sensation like we felt all the way back on the first descent some 20 hours earlier.

We were trudging along through a camp site when we saw the next trail marker sign. It said 100km. We couldn’t believe it. That crept up on us out of nowhere. It worked us up and with a little moaning we powered through the last little climb back to the Main Street. Thankfully we merged further down than our hotel so didn’t have to run passed it! We emerged onto the street to cheers from some supporters out late in the night and then picked up the pace as we finished the course. The last little surprise being the very steep finishers bridge into the finish line. The risk of falling with our tired legs giving way was probably quite high! Thankfully we didn’t tumble for the camera. Seconds later we crossed the finish line. We’d done it. As Eiger E101 finishers we were handed our little piece of the Eiger – a rock from the moutain as our medal. I love it, but right then i was sick of the rocks!

Finish line smiles

Without knowing or realising, as we went into the sports centre to collect our bags, Matt snuck passed and finished just a few minutes after us. What a guy. Such consistent running all day!

The Eiger rock

Serpent Trail 2: The Return

Serpent Trail 2: The Return
Difficulty: ‘Go Easy On Me Knees’
Game Mode: Co-Op: 2 Player
Player 1: Dai
Player 2: Ultra Nick

Cue theme music. Some proper late 80s keyboard and synth Jingle jingle vibes…

With all game sequels come new characters, abilities, foes and new ways of interacting with the environment. Fundamentally the playing principles tend to remain unchanged. For that purpose the Serpent Trail provides the platform for this sequel.

Back in 2018 I ran the serpent trail on what was quite frankly a ridiculously hot and sunny day. That day I recalled my adventure like a computer game; I was the player and the sun was the pesky boss level character on the Serpent Trail. It was something I had in my head all day as I ran the 100km from Haslemere to Petersfield, a kind of side scrolling platform adventure. Four years later I returned and this time it was a co-op mode with Nick being the new ‘player 2 character’ helping me to complete the distance.

Unlike 2018 my ‘running character’ is very different. I feel the 2022 version is a pumped up version from the first iteration in what was my third 100km race. Metaphorically speaking of course and I’m thinking about running experience terms.

So here we go. Loading up the the sequel…

We camped at the finish line in Petersfield Rugby club the night before and sadly mistimed the food as there was nothing warm ready (or anytime soon) when we had set up the tent. We did however find a burger van after walking over to a Gospel Festival happening further along on the fields. A burger and 1.5 hotdogs meant it was a meat heavy bit of race prep. I didn’t foresee it at the time, but this would prove to be one of the ‘game enemies for me’.

4am we were awake and jostling for toilets and sinks with the other runners before being herded onto 3 buses for the short trip to Haslemere were we’d start the level. Like 4 years earlier, the start was as low-key as they come as we all huddled in a small opening of grass and we’re simply waved on our way by Tom the RD. The difference this time was only that the field size was probably four times what it was on my first go. The race profile was indeed growing – besides a larger number of participants there are now a number of different distances to run over the weekend.

Level 1: Tree Tops

Unlike before, I don’t have a play by play of the miles from start to finish. This was very much, for me, a far easier play than that first time round. Perhaps I did have it on ‘easy’ mode (and I was certainly thinking of preservation ahead of the next mountain event, the Eiger Ultra Trail, in two weeks time!). But, playing two player mode certainly makes it easier and the early miles just flew by rather quickly as I ran with the support from Nick. The course was also very familiar having run the first 25miles of it just a few weeks earlier as part of our preparation. For much of the route you run through scenic forest tracks with huge trees and views over the Surrey Countryside.

Start line hustle

Somewhere early on in those first 10 miles we met Pete. It was like another player inserted his coins and pressed start to join in the fun part way. After chatting for a while he decided to stick with us rather than push on for his target time. Multi-player mode activated like a good old fashioned coin-op arcade game! Between us we batted away all the early obstacles the game threw at us. Little hills? No problem. Hot and sweaty? Not a concern. Rooty woodland trails? No falling over here! Thankfully it was nowhere near as warm this year and overall the playing conditions were very favourable. With each aid station we took a few minutes to refuel – in this sequel the health bar was recuperated mostly with sandwiches. Jam sandwiches were my go to choice at the aid station. There were still no roast chickens smashed out of dustbins a la Steets Of Rage though!

From early on I did have my own personal battle throughout the day. Kind of like a side mission, as I struggled with the ‘burger demon’ who tormented me through most of the race. However, that’s not a character worth writing about any further!

Tree Top Level views

Petworth was a target and milestone for us. Our save game zone. It would be the halfway mark and where the narrative of the game would change as we could start homing in on the finish. We’d ticked off the ‘1/3 of the way’ mark and soon enough we’re closing in on that 50km marker and heading towards the little town of Petworth. This was around the time I started vividly remembering parts of the course. I started recognising signs, trees, lakes, specific views and all sorts of random things. I was remembering where the course would go and what would come next. It was quite relaxing and enjoying to recall the previous memories. The others were probably fed up of me going “oh I remember this”…

One of the many memories from 2018

Level 2: The Wall

One thing I remembered before we got to Petworth was that there was what felt like a never ending stretch of road along a massive stone wall in Petworth (before the aid station). It was longer than I recalled. This was a foe that would sap your energy for sure as your mind would focus on the stones and curves of the wall for what felt like an eternity. When we did arrive at the aid station we were greeted by the beaming smile (as always) from Dimi who looked after us as we took 15 mins to refuel and recuperate. A friendly face is always a morale booster!

For a short while after Petworth we played as four when Pete’s brother in law, a Petworth local, joined us for a few miles. The route restarted with a lovely climb through some open spaces with incredible views. We then ran several kms through more of the scenic woodland trails including a little extra when we all missed a very blatant sign on a downhill section and had to back track up to the route.

At this point we were all feeling pretty great. We were over half way through and none of us has any real issues or concerns. The energy was quite high and we were deep into conversations bouncing back and forth. I particularly loved the nostalgic buzz of recalling the late night soft porn tv shows from the early days of Channel 5 when we were all teenagers. Red Shoe Diaries anyone?!

Around 63km we met Elise and Nick’s mum who supplied us with cold drinks and food. It was a huge boost and we were glad to see them. It also brought another flashback to many years earlier when a lady was outside the very same shop supplying runners with cold Coke. I can remember how thankful I was for that in the heat of 2018!

Level 3: The grey roads

The further we went, the more Pete yearned for it to be over. He was still feeling good and strong and wanted some road sections (he’s more fond of a road marathon than Nick and I). We agreed that he should push on whenever he felt like it. He was eager to finish now. We also had a brief stop near some farm land as we waited for a herd of cows to, slowly, proceed down the road we needed to cross. Each looked at is inm a thankful and confused way, perhaps curious as to what we were up too. It was like the technical part of a game were you need to time your move just right to avoid getting caught out somehow. we certainly didn’t want a herd of cattle turning on us!

Waiting until the cows were well passed!

Through more aid stations we went and then we saw Elise and Nick’s mum again at 83km. At the Midhurst aidstation with not far left to run. They came here prepared with McDonald’s chips and nuggets. It was awesome, a cheat code for a full health refuel! The volunteer laughed when I turned down the jam sandwiches because I had chicken nuggets. She didn’t believe me and thought I was joking. There was one runner here who was looking a little worse for wear and going through some knee troubles. But she came through behind us and left before us, determined to see it through and reassuring everyone she was ok. We took off a few mins later and almost immediately Nick started to suffer. In game speak, he took some kind of critical combo hit and suffered a from a typical runner’s character weakness – blisters. He’d been complaining of sore feet for a little while and now they were starting to affect him.

This leg of the route was gently undulating and we walked and ran in equal measures. We were at a cross roads where the pain hurts more when walking, but the legs were fatigued and didn’t want to run as much. Nick powered on. I was constantly amazed that we didn’t catch up with the girl who was limping until almost the penultimate checkpoint almost 7 miles later. She was strong and focused!

As we began to hit the road sections, Pete now headed off at a quicker pace at this point. He also had a busy night ahead with getting home to his family post race. The roads were long, straight and inclined ever so gently. in the dying light they were grey and the beauty of the route started to leave us. At the next checkpoint Nick took a seat. He positioned it right in front of the aidstation table, as if interviewing the volunteers behind it. We all laughed and I mocked his suffering whilst eating lollipops.

Final Level. The Petersfield loop

After a while he found the strength to get up and keep going and so, with powerups and a health top up, we continued on to the final battle to the end. This was it now. no more lives or save slots nor continues. Once chance to attack and complete the final level: Two short sections were all that remained now, separated by a small aid station just a few miles from the finish. We recalled the final few kms from a recent recce and enjoyed (sort of) the gentle change of terrain to the flat road sections. I think this helped Nick’s feet a little along with providing the confidence that the finish was certain to happen.

As we left the trail I checked the watch. We had just under 20mins to complete the last 2kms and finish in under 15 hours. I put it to Nick and he was happy to pick up the pace. So I did. Probably too much and I got into the groove and we just kept running. The long loop around the rugby club, into the riverside path at the back. We pounded the roads and then the tree lined path. Just a 100m from the finish, before emerging into the field, Nick demanded a break. He was spent from the increasing effort. So we stopped, caught our breathe, and composed ourselves before finishing the journey to the cheers of the supporters at the finish line. Of course the loudest of them all were Elise and Nicks mum.

Relief washed over us as the end credits started to roll. After a quick pose for Phil to take our pictures and sweaty hugs all round, we were glad to get straight in the car and head home to our beds (given the clubhouse showers had been closed (whhyyy?!)).

And so, like many times before, I’ve been privileged to be there by Nick’s side as he pushes his boundaries and shows what he is capable of. It’s a great feeling to run with your mate and see them achieve. And of course, it’s always enjoyable to watch them suffer just as you have done yourself!

Phil Capturing the emotion of the finish

St. Peter’s way

Sometimes I sign up to races and events and then a littler later on I develop a little regret for my decisions. This was one of them. And the regret was for completely pointless reasons really. I signed up to the St Peter’s Way ultra nearly two years ago and multiple delays meant it was now something I’d given very little thought too. I always knew it would come a long, but I’d just be some a little too comfortable without it.

The race was on a Sunday which just meant I’d be more tired than usual at work on the Monday and it was in Essex which is a mission to get too without a car when public transport would be more limited. What made it more of a pain was that the race started in a small town (Chipping Ongar) and finished 43 miles or so further east, on the coast of Bradwell on Sea. The regret was because I simply couldn’t be bothered with all that hassle. But, there was also a little motivation hidden in its logistics also. The organisers (Challenge Running who were amazing by the way!) put on mini buses to take runners from the finish back to the start. Only they were at roughly 3 hour intervals (it’s an hour or so round trip for the driver) and the first was at 14:30 and the last at 20:30. I wanted to make that middle bus at 17:30. That would be around a 9hr 20min finish for 43 miles. Very doable. But, yep, another catch was that the buses were on a first come first served basis. I estimated I’d need to finish around 4pm to be in with a chance of safely securing my place on that bus.

And here is how it went…

Carl and I travelled up to Harrow and stayed the night there on Saturday (yep, had two years to book accommodation near to the start and didn’t!). An Uber to the start the following morning saw us join the low-key race centre and registration located in a small carpark where we collected our bibs. The nice surprise was seeing John at the start who I didn’t realise was running and that he’d done this race before. We chatted a bit and wished each other well for the adventure. The ongoing theme for the day would be me and Carl spending the hours calculating the chances of making the bus. We’d started straightaway sizing up the field of 80 or so runners lining up at the race briefing.

starting in a carpark

With an uncharacteristic (for a trail race) “on your marks, get set, go!” we joined the runners in an initial single line through the narrow track and the first of many (many!) kissing gates (and stiles) that we’d encounter throughout the day. We’d read about the ‘mud’ of the route and it was apparent early on. The route went through so many fields, massive green fields that were very soft underfoot. They started off nicely and began progressively getting more and more muddy. As always the worst parts were straight after you climb over a sty and then enter the field.

During the race briefing we’d been advised that much of the initial section of the route (with 4 aid stations the route was split into 5 sections each with hand written instructions to follow the route – we stuck to a gpx file!) had changed from previous years and to our benefit we’d be following more closely the original footpath to the at peters chapel. Early on we saw splits in runners going different directions in the fields. We stuck to our route and later chatted to a multi time finisher who confirmed we were indeed following the new and correct route.

Endless fields

As the day progressed we got to experience the great hospitality and support at the aid stations. As we crossed progressively muddier fields and, towards the second aid station, we found ourselves running more and more on our own as the field spread out. We passed through some lovely little villages and also along the Blackwater marina of Maylandsea which broke up the route slightly as we began to leave the muddy fields behind.

It was here we stared to sense we were close to the coast and that all (all 400m!) of elevation was behind us. Yep. Essex is indeed pretty flat. We then came into the final aid station where there we a handful of other runners and we were shortly joined by a chap called Alex who was running his furthest distance to date and had taken a few wrong turns trying to follow the hand written instructions. He tagged along with me and Carl for the remainder of the race.

We let him know our thoughts for the bus. We estimated that only a small fraction of runners would not start, not finish or would have family and a lift from the finish. We assumed that it would be a 15 seater minibus and that therefore we’d probably want to be in the top 35-40 finishers to get on that 17:30 bus. We also didn’t want to bust a gut to finish around 4pm and have to wait until 20:30 to begin the journey home!! Alex was more relaxed and went with the flow and chatted away to us. It was refreshing chatting to Alex and adding a third person to the conversations and hearing about his experience of the day and his runs – he’ll soon be heading off to the Sahara to tackle the Marathon Des Sables. Good luck to him on that beast!

Towards the end of the route we ran along a sea wall. In the distance was a building that we thought could be the finish line (St Peter’s Chapel). It did, from a distance, look way too modern, although we did estimate it was probably the few km away that corresponded with our distance covered. We Were hopeful that the end was in sight!

Also in the distance we’re two other runners. We were tempted to try and leg it after them, but realistically it was beyond us. We wondered if our presence was enough motivation for them to keep pushing to the end too. Either way we continued our run walk strategy which had served us well over the last 8 miles or so.

A few final turns and we could clearly see that the building was indeed the chapel and finish line as the runners ahead turned inland and headed directly to it. Shortly after then the three of us crossed the line and received our welcome from Lyndsey (the RD) and secured our space on the bus. We made it!

2 became 3

In the end we finished just under 8 hours and in positions 31 -33. It went almost exactly to plan. Our estimates were slightly off though as only 4 runners made that first bus and we secured 3 of the remaining 5 seats on the 17:30 and we only just secured our spot – There were 5 other runners who finished within 10 mins of us. I felt bad for them and glad we kept pushing to the end. we had just enough time to ‘cleanup’ and grab some food in the shelter of the Chapel – outside the temperature was rapidly dropping. And what a Chapel it was, a very unique finish to a race indeed!

Our adventure didn’t quite end there as on arrival back in Chipping Ongar it became apparent that taxis were going to be difficult (we were told we’d have a 3 hour race) and the next bus was a bit of a slow journey towards Epping. By pure chance, after a trip to a petrol station for some food, we once more bumped into Alex who very kindly gave us a lift back into London! What a gent! Thanks again Alex!

As always, despite my trepidation about the event, I thoroughly enjoyed it and, as always, loved the experience of running somewhere new. Although I’m not sure I would have enjoyed it quite as much if I didn’t have Carl by my side throughout to cheer me up through all the mud. Coincidentally this was 2 days short of two years since we first met, in Borneo running with Maverick Race! Happy anniversary Borneo Carl.

Hips Don’t Lie

The Cappadocia Ultra Trail (CUT) is a 119km trail run in the heart of Turkey. Set in the Cappadocia region, runners do a sort of figure 8 from Urgup. Exploring the historic landscape as they traverse the high plateaus and valleys from one side of Cappadocia to the other. The terrain in the region is made up of ‘tuff’ – a thick ash (from ancient volcanic eruptions) that solidified. In many places, millions of years of wind and water erosion has left behind incredible structures (like the Twin Fairy Peaks) and in others, humans carved the malleable material into vast networks of caves, living quarters and other structures, both above ground and below. A remarkable region that is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Like the course itself, the CUT for me was a race of two halves. The spoiler in my story is that the first half was the more difficult experience and, unusually, I finished the race much stronger than I started.

Each race is an experience and one to reflect on. Each time we run we learn something a little bit more out ourselves. This is why I like ultra running so much. I don’t think it ever actually gets easier. Hopefully we just get stronger and wiser and are able to deal with the challenges better. Going into the race I already new some mistakes I’d made even before I’d stepped a foot over the start line. I thought it would be my struggle to shake a mucus-y cold from the week before that would make the race harder. Turns out it was my own planning. I’d mentally prepared for 24 hours of running and, being further East than usual, and the sun setting earlier, I’d brought mostly caffeinated Tailwind. For some reason I didn’t question my choice to bring so much. And so I started with two bottles of caffeinated Tailwind at 7 in the morning. I was junked up and, along with the multiple morning coffees, It went straight through me! That exciting story unfolds as I recount the morning’s adventures…

Usual photo opportunity whilst everything is still being set up

The start line was a breeze. With about 20 minutes before the race start we’d walked down from the cave hotel we were staying in nearby, dropped off our bags and bumped into Sammy, Sarah and Harry. 5 minutes later we were waiting in the numbered holding pens and ready to go. The race began with a steep uphill section along the roads as we’d leave Urgup. I didn’t want to run the hill but was caught up in the dash of runners (and two stray dogs who’d some how made their way into the starting pens with the runners!). Before he’d shot off, Paul had explained that the trails were fairly narrow early on and that we could expect some bottlenecks. So I stuck with it, huffing and puffing my way up.

It was soon over and at around 7:30 in the morning we were running on the dusty trail paths with incredible views of the area and hundreds of hot air balloons floating in the sky above Goreme. Having taken a hot air balloon ride the day before it was a surreal experience to now be running the trails we’d seen from above. The trails weaved through the rock formations and faster more confident runners bounded past, hoping from rock to rock as the rest of us followed in single file down the gullies carved out as paths between them.

My morning mistakes immediately started to hit me as I could feel my stomach cramping. Too soon I repeated to myself internally. Too soon. I sipped the Tailwind solution, trying not to take the full caffeine payload too early, saving plenty of it for the later stage of this section. Soon we reached the first aid station situated along a road as we left the town of Ibrahimpasa and I topped up on water, watering down what was left of the existing Tailwind in one bottle and switching to the basic lemon flavour in the other, before carrying on whilst ramming some cake into my mouth.

Early on with all the other runners

The route took us down through the town and onto a path at the back of the houses/caves. The two dogs were still running with us and Coren caught me up. We ran together a little while weaving through the back paths, duck-walking our way through some tunnels and cave systems before we began the largest climb of the first half of the race and then making our way up and over a major road which had armed police stopping the traffic for runners. The route then took us down onto a phenomenal down hill trail through some white chalky rocks. It was steep and slippery. Here the runners were split into the more hesitant and the clearly very confident ones who bounded passed the rest, bouncing from side to side.

My body screamed at me the whole way as I looked for a place to escape off the trail. The landscape was barren and there was nowhere to grab a moment of privacy and I struggled on, no doubt pulling some questionable faces. A short while later the rocky section was over and we entered a section of golden forest. I saw my opportunity and took it. A sacrifice to the God of Thunder needed to be made. Relieved, I emerged back out and joined the train of runners. This section, leading to Goreme was glorious as the yellow leaved trees shone in the light of day and the trail teased its way through the forest.

A snippet of golden trails and white Tuff terrain

The route led us up and into Goreme, where I caught back up with Coren and Yvette who’d passed me. We ran together through Goreme, recognising it from the previous morning where we’d floated over the day before on our Balloon ride. Leaving Goreme we were stuck behind a smelly garbage truck on a narrow lane which turned my stomach even more. I thought I’d be over my issues now, but the last few kms had made me think otherwise. I wasn’t well that was for sure and the initial sacrifice had been rejected. We weren’t far from the next aid station but I didn’t know what to expect and felt unpredictable so was keeping my eyes peeled again.

We began the next, steep climb to the aid station in the town of Uchisar. Along the way was a tap, I filled my bottle to drink from, before deciding it probably wasn’t the best idea, so poured it over my head instead. As I reached the aid station I bid farewell to Coren and Yvette and went toilet hunting. After some language barriers and misdirection, I eventually found one in a Mosque. It wasn’t pretty but it was necessary and I was thankful for the privacy and a running tap. I washed my face and emptied an absurd amount of mucus and dust out of my nose before setting off out and hoping my body and mind would now work together.

With the delivery complete, my attention turned to the second issue or mistake I’d made and which had been masked by my previous distractions. Knowingly, I made a poor choice of footwear for the race – the Adidas Two Ultra Parley. A Good shoe that is comfy and decent for hard packed trails, but I find lacking in both stability and support. I took a risk and it was slowly proving to be a bad choice as the laces were causing pain in my metatarsals. Occasionally, sharp pain would shoot through my foot and I’d limp forward. I was going to have to address this soon, but for now I was running OK and the next aid station wasn’t far away as it was a short section of about 6 km as we’d loop around to the other side of Goreme.

I put my foot issues to the back of my mind vowing to loosen the laces when I next stopped. With my mind preoccupied, I don’t remember too much about those 6km other than passing a horse ranch and feeling like the shackles had been removed. My body was relieved and after 30k I was able to focus on the running. I caught up with Coren and Yvette again as we hiked some gentle climbs in the heat of the day. The sun reflecting back off the white ground. I mentioned I’d not used suncream and Yvette said she had some she’d give me at the aid station too. Soon I was sitting on the side of the road creaming up. The metatarsals on my left foot were screaming at me. I used the rest break as a chance to loosen those laces which I think were adding pressure to my foot (there is no padding on the tongue of these trainers). It helped a little. But before setting back out I recognised the next challenge I was facing (or soon to face) – with nearly 40k of running complete I realised I had eaten very little. After a huge breakfast, I wasn’t yet hungry, but soon would be. I grabbed some satsumas which were delightfully juicy and started to eat some of my snacks knowing that I was going to have to eat more to keep going!

Despite thinking I’d be low on energy from not eating, from aid station 3 I felt like I was flying. Besides the pain in my foot which I was still feeling, I was running carefree. There were some more incredible trails through woodlands and I overtook a few runners as I enjoyed the gentle downhills and small climbs. We went through some more fantastic rocky sections with huge caves (no ducking to get through these), as we ran passed what I think was the ‘Pigeon Loft Cave’. After the woodlands I emerged onto a long dusty/sandy straight back out in the open. I plodded on and started to notice it was a bit more windy now. I say a bit, I mean really windy. Up ahead I could see the dust swirling on the path and then it hit me. The wind. The dust. The combination. I could barely keep my eyes open even with my head turned away and facing down. I caught a glimpse of the sky, it was grey. A storm of some sort had hit us. I really hoped it wouldn’t last!

Ale caught this picture of the storm from when he was at the second checkpoint. I guess I’m in there somewhere!

The sun cream I’d recently applied meant the sand stuck to me. I was covered. Every time I went to drink I had a mouth full of dust as an accompaniment. Eventually I broke off the path and was now crossing a field with the wind behind me. I passed Sarah as we began another climb.

The climb was pretty scenic. Further up ahead there was a guy I recognised from Madeira two years ago – Maarten. We ran together a bit and swapped stories of the last two years and races (including both being at Val d’Aran a few months earlier). We were talking about how hot it was and how much water we had when a girl came up from behind, clearly struggling with the heat and pleaded if we had any water to spare. Luckily, knowing this was a longer section, I’d filled a third soft flask so had a spare 500ml which I gave her. She drank nearly all of it in seconds, gratefully thanked us then vanished off into the distance. She would have been one of the lead runners in the shorter 38km race which started a few hours after we did. Not long later we came across a make shift water station before the course split for the 38km race to head back to Urgup more directly as we detoured off to Cavusin.

With Maarten

We went left at the course split and began another scenic but slightly more technical trail that undulated along and down the side of the mountain. Mesmeric views of red rock formations were all around us as the trail led down to the next aid station where I continued to address my nutritional problems. I grabbed a full bottle of water, some coke, more satsumas and hot lentil soup and went to find myself a place to sit along a wall. I’d started to fill my belly as Maarten arrived and shortly later Yvette, completing the Madeira reunion. After a few mins I left them both sitting in the shade and carried on.

Incredible rock formations on the undulating descent

The next section towards aid station 5 began with a big steep climb as a snake of runners weaved up to the top of the mountain we’d just circumnavigated. It was very hot now in the middle of the day and the climb was exhausting. Up top the paths traced the edge of the mountain as we made our way back along the top, almost to where the course split had happened a few hundred metres lower down. The views were spectacular and way down below I could see runners on the trails we’d arrived on. I wondered to myself how far behind me they were. It would only be a few miles for sure.

View from the top with the trails visible lower down

The top of the mountain was fairly flat but rocky. I mixed up the running and walking as the trails were so visible so far ahead I couldn’t mentally commit to keep running it all. Eventually there was a very steep but short descent and we arrived at the next aid station. A small tent halfway up the mountain. As I sat and drank more and ate some food, I got chatting to two guys from Yorkshire. I wished them well as I left and began the last section of the first half of the race back to Urgup.

As I drank from one of my refilled Tailwind bottles, I noticed another error I’d made where I’d mislabelled a Tailwind portion and instead of lemon I had another caffeine one. Despite feeling more settled, it worried me a little and I didn’t want to repeat the morning’s mistakes which were still very fresh in my memory. So I tried to make sure I’d drink from that bottle last and prolong when I took in more caffeine. Thankfully it was only another 8k to the halfway point and I wasn’t likely to need a full litre.

The route was pretty as we traversed lots of gradual ups and downs and undulated along trails between farmland and areas of modern housing. There was lots of walking and I was starting to feel the effect of not fuelling early on. I knew I’d need to continue that process of addressing the imbalance at halfway, this time with more substance. As I walked I began talking to Omar from Jordan who was doing his first Ultra, the 63km. He was so friendly and smiley and enjoying his race, knowing he was on the home stretch. Shortly after seeing, as we approached the iconic Twin Fairy Chimneys, the 38km course re-joined our route and there were loads of other runners surrounding us. I had a momentary boost as I powered passed a bunch of them and felt a surge of arrogance and confidence in my performance and race. A timely mental boost to see me through to the halfway point!

We then reached another major road crossing manned by the police. I can see now that it is the same road from earlier in the day, just many miles further along. The Police stopped a car for me to pass and the driver started shouting out the window. It was Sammy. Amazing timing. I then descended down the red bricked pavement to the aid station. Wincing with pain as my foot broke my stride and technique. I’d been adapting my running for the passed two sections but now on the hard ground I was more than a little worried that the damage may done already.

Into half way I went. Sarah was already there and Sammy busy supporting and getting her ready to head back out. I grabbed my bag and went straight for the food asking for “everything”. I had some soup, pasta with tomato sauce and cheese and a giant potato to go with it. I then found a place on the grass to sit in the shade and went about executing my on-the-fly strategy. I removed my shoes and socks and let my feet catch some air whilst I ate. There was a blister that would need taking care of on my little toe. I’d been ignoring it as it had been giving me grief for a while and it was clear now why. A blood blister.

In between eating I’d clean and fix myself up – a wet wipe shower, removing dodgy tape from my toes that had peeled loose, reapplying it and addressing the blister. Yum. Yvette and Maarten had arrived and we all joked as I cramped trying to reach my feet. I ate the dry potato by dunking it in the soup. I was conscious I needed more salt intake too so grabbed some more cheese and finished off with a GU energy waffle, a bit of cake and some more juicy satsumas for dessert. A good feast was had. Eventually, 15mins longer than planned and an hour after arriving, I set back out with a change of trainers (Inov8 Trailroc).

From halfway I felt good. The change in trainers immediately helped my foot with the greater padding and support offered by the ever trusty Inov8s. The route crossed the road and onto a trail with an immediate short but very steep sandy decline. I was covered in stand as gravity pulled me down at speed I shouldn’t have after 60 odd kms of running. Great. I needed to stop and take off my shoes already. I found what looked like a rock and sat down. It was just a mound formed of the sand/dust though and it collapsed under me. I picked myself up, carried on and tried another rock with more success.

I remember running passed some cows in an enclosure as this section of the route led us more ‘off path’ and we ran through many fields and farmland. A few times we crossed back and forth over a small river. For a short while I was chatting to a guy from Cardiff as we spurred each other on through the lumpy terrain. We joked about the derby game that would happen on Sunday and I teased that we can’t be friends or run together as I dashed off ahead. The route then took us up the river we’d been criss-crossing. I ran up the river by following the narrow banks and jumping side to side trying to avoid getting wet feet. It was a long and smelly stretch that required a bit of focus as I didn’t want to step in the water as it didn’t seem all that clean and I was thinking of the open wounds on my toes which I’d sliced up at the halfway mark. I was glad to be navigating this in the light which was now diminishing as the sun was setting,

For a long time the moon lit up the path after the sun had set

I was beginning to feel stronger now and able to run consistently with no pain in my foot any more. As I ran I passed a woman and few guys together as we climbed another of the few smallish inclines this section had. They cheered me on and shortly afterwards we reached another town, Mustafapasa, as the moon took over now the sun had set. As we left the town and ran back onto the trail I put my torch on and gained pace on runners ahead who were still struggling with the low light or stopping to search in their backpacks for their torches. One guy clearly tried to keep up with me, probably knowing we weren’t far from the next aid station, and piggy-back on the light from my head torch. I was having none of it though and picked up the pace. I could hear him grunting as he dropped further and further back. I didn’t do it purely out of spite, but more so because of the sound of his poles. The sound of other runners’ poles tip-tapping on the ground really annoys me in races.

From here I ran all the way into the next aid station. It was a smallish one just off the main path. I sat down and began drinking Coke and eating pieces of apple. The volunteers here were very friendly and supportive. One volunteer asked if I wanted salt. I didn’t, but I did think it was a good idea as my legs were very tender and with the cramping I suffered at half way I dived straight in, pouring the sachet straight into my half drunk Coke. Ew. What was I thinking. Salty coke was not pleasurable. It was knocked back though.

As I left the aid station another runner caught me up and asked me if I wanted music. I absolutely fucking did not want any music. I like music. I hate it on a trail run though. I hate it even more at night when running and it was a beautiful night so far. Peaceful. Clear skies. Glistening moon and stars with the lack of light pollution. Nope, I didn’t want that spoilt with some tin-cup music out of a phone speaker. I think my blunt reaction made it awkward as we were then walking/running together in silence. He also had poles tip-tapping on the floor, so I used a small climb as a chance to take a piss and let him go on ahead. Thankfully that worked and I never saw him again.

We then began a monstrous climb. I knew this was coming, but was secretly hoping one of the many smaller ones leading up to it was actually the ‘big ‘un’. Sadly my attempt to count the hills had failed. Although this was one of the biggest climbs on the course, at 500m it shouldn’t be particularly troublesome. But, unexpectedly it was like a sand dune. So dusty/sandy. Every step my foot would submerge to the ankle. It made the climb slow and difficult. Nothing else to do though other than keep trekking along. The subsequent descent was no better and the run down very sandy also. I gave in to the pain and discomfort and let gravity take control and I just ran it all (it felt superhuman at the time, but it was only about 3km), kicking up sand everywhere. I was constantly coughing and found it difficult to breathe and see as I made my own mini sand storms (the light from the head torch struggled to penetrate through all the dust). I passed Sarah on the down hill and powered into the aid station.

I felt good. For a while I’d been thinking that a sub 20 hour finish was possible. I was averaging around 9min 30 per km throughout so had about 30 minute buffer on a 20 hour finish time. However, each climb would eat away at that average and we had three big climbs to get through in this second half. The run down after the first one had a big impact though and I clawed back nearly 10 mins. However that soon vanished… As I sat down at the aid station and emptied the sand out of my shoes, I asked for soup. I still needed to keep fuelling properly to sustain the final 30km push. The soup was so hot though that I had to wait for it to cool a bit. As I did I got very cold sitting there so dug out the arm warmers. Those minutes gained were ticking away so I used the time to plan ahead and rearranged my bag making sure I had more food accessible and also changed my head torch battery now so I wouldn’t have to do it again later on. As I was faffing, Sammy arrived and shortly afterwards Sarah did too. We all moaned about the ‘sandy bastard’ and got excited for the soup!

With my soup consumed I set back out, accepting that a 20 hour finish was probably now out of reach and distracted by the cold. I was hoping I’d soon warm up from running/hiking which, thankfully I did. Although I immediately then had cold feet when the route took us across a wider/fuller river section which I spectacular mis-timed my attempt to jump across. Dammit.

I began the second of the big climbs. This one about 400m. It was a decent path though with a wide track and it was not as steep as the previous one. I was thankful it was more forgiving than the last climb and hiked up quickly. Up top was a longer flattish section than the previous mountain. I powered on in full ultra hike mode. I was averaging 9 minute kms when walking. This was faster than my average pace and faster than the 10min kms average I needed to sustain a sub 20 finish. I stated to believe a little again but couldn’t be bothered to run and didn’t need too – as we joked the next day, I’ve a pretty good power hike and I teased its all inspired by Shakira and ‘hips don’t lie’. I was in a happy state now and was content with however it would finish from here. Two more aid stations to go and still enough time for ten mins rest at each. I believed it was back on.

As I walked this whole section I vividly pictured a flip-book cartoon of my inner body system functioning through races. I’ve often described to friends how I visualise the ‘boys in the command centre’ who run the show from the inside. This time I saw them all. All the internal body parts and their controllers, the conversations and messages flowing through the command centre. The instructions being followed to process the food, to engaged the legs and run, power up the power hike mode and so on. It kept me entertained for quite a while. Maybe one day I’ll attempt to draw it out.

I ran the descent and once more made up some time. I pushed it for another 3 km or so until I arrived at the aid station in Karlik. It was so hot inside the building. I took water and left straight away. I felt strong and I didn’t need a rest nor the sweltering heat of the aid station. There was 20k left to go and I felt surprisingly good. I had everything I needed after my bit of prep at the last stop and knew the soup would kick in sooner or later, plus I had Kendal Mint Cake ready to eat and get a sugar high from. So I just cracked on.

There was one big climb and descent left to the final aid station. My optimism after leaving Karlik was soon diminished though. The climb was off path. It was very uneven underfoot with lots of rocks, uneven lumps of foliage and dirt and at some points quite steep climbs. It was not going to be as forgiving as the last section. I kept on walking. I passed a few runners and a few familiar faces passed me. One couple I’d caught up with were running very consistently. We leapfrogged each other now on and off for a few km as when I hiked a climb I’d power passed and they’d eventually overtake me on the flatter parts running. I gave into the temptation to keep playing this game and followed in behind them as we began the descent. It was technical. Not super technical but rocky and steep none-the-less. It was rather painful on the now very sore feet. Clearly they’d left one of the hardest sections to the end of the race! I wasn’t in a happy place any more.

It felt like a lifetime to get to the final aid station. But eventually I did. There was nothing here to entice me to hang around as it was just a tent on the mountain. So I filled my water and joked with the volunteers. Next stop, the finish line. 10 km to go. I’m outta here…

The first task was a final, shorter climb up the mountain again. From here a short stint along the top once more before descending down the other side. Once up top I began running. It was still rocky terrain, but everything was falling into place again. There is always a point in a race, no matter how far from the end you are where you know you’ll get to the finish. I’d passed that point and was full of belief. The energy levels and confidence were high. After so much caffeine over the last 20 hours I was wide awake (all the Tailwind I’d drank since 5pm at halfway was caffeinated!). I caught up a lot of people as I began to descend, confidently whizzing past them. Another guy up front looked familiar. It was Paul! I wasn’t expecting to see him but here he was. I screamed out to him, terrifying him in the process. I carried on running the downhill and he soon fell in line and began running with the momentum too.

A short while later we came off the trails. We were somewhere in Urgup now. Maybe 3 km to go. Here the route twisted around the town as we’d make our way back to the start. A long gradual climb through the streets was not an exciting finish. Even less so was the very, very steep but short hill as we went through a building site and some back ally near a fancy hotel. It was probably the steepest climb on the course! Thankfully though it was then downhill to the finish as we hit a cobbled side street down to the start line.

Unplanned, we crossed the finish together. Maria and Ale, the legends, were there at 02:30 in the morning to cheer us in. Their support at this ridiculous hour was incredible after their own exhaustions of running their own races earlier too. Shortly after finishing we heard the sad news that Yvette had withdrawn at 100km. An incredible achievement to get so far on a very difficult route and enduring her own struggles over the 20 hours. We grabbed our stuff and finishers merch and headed back up to the caves (great, more climbs!) where we found her waiting in the cold outside the rooms.

Cappadocia was done and, for Paul, redemption after his DNF (did not finish) a few years earlier. I finished the race in 19 hrs 24 mins. Far faster than I was expecting and a strong finish in 76th position sharing joint second Brit with Paul hahah.

On reflection, I’ve no doubt that my strength in this event was my adaptability and able to think forward. I was acutely aware that it’s a long game. It always is. I’d mentally settled in for 20-24 hours of running. So when it was all a struggle early on I could think clearly that what I did now (at that moment) would affect me later on. It wouldn’t help immediately. There is no secret pill or easy fix in ultra running. You can enjoy the moment but you have to be thinking ahead. Hours ahead. In this case knowing after a troublesome first 30km a bonk was inevitable if I didn’t address the problems and start fuelling properly. I’m proud of myself for this one and turning it around before it got the better of me. All hail the boys in the command centre!

Looking back over the data from my run, I’m impressed with how my second half pace and speed per section didn’t drop off too much from the first half, despite factoring in the elevation, difficult terrain and general fatigue. The second half was very consistent. The chart of my race position ranking constantly improving after my early difficulties in the first 30km also brings a smile to my face. A satisfying end to the race indeed!

Chasing Tees

The Stour Valley Path ultra, or more specifically, the SVP100, has become somewhat of a tradition. A grounding point. A yearly adventure and a pilgrimage for me in some way.

What started as my second ultra back in 2017 has turned into the one place I return to run. But why? I always say it’s because I’m collecting the set of tee shirts, that has been my why for this event. But every year I find out there are more to obtain by hitting new milestones. There is nothing unique about it either, there are many runners out there who are years ahead of me in their collections, some having run the SVP100 every year since its inception. Still, this is my journey…

After my first three 100k finishes I opted to volunteer in 2020 as it was just one week after a 100 mile adventure on the North Downs Way. This time, 2021 I signed up to the elusive 50km which would complete my colour set of t-shirts. Whilst I’m weak and always sign up to the biggest challenge, my 2021 plans should have seen me racing in the mountains of Norway the week before the SVP100 (it didn’t pan out that way!). Opting for the 50 was also the wisest choice.

So here I was, a little lost on Saturday morning as, rather than starting at 7am, I found myself making my way across London to Sudbury to start at 1pm instead. It felt odd. It felt a little disorienting. I rocked up at the start line which was very unfamiliar, as the 50km course does a short loop before joining the 100km runners along the Stour Valley Path to the finish. None the less, a familiar welcome from Matt (the Race Director) sent me on my way.

A different start for this year’s run

I started relaxed. This section was very flat. I was full of energy tough and even in a relaxed state I struggled to contain myself a little as we ran along the single track paths after leaving the riverside. We set off in small groups of 6 or so and as I entered a field a few kms in I could see runners stretched out far into the distance. We all said hello to each other and wished good fortunes for the day ahead as we passed and exchanged places. I briefly saw Agata and carried on my way with my fresh legs taking me probably a little too fast.

Before long we joined the SVP and looking back in the distance we could see a 100km runner heading our way. I wondered where I would be if I was doing the 100km this day, not this far along the course that is for certain! I chatted with many runners and one common theme was the black ‘3-star finishers’ tee I was wearing. It was a conversation starter for sure. Runners were amazed I’d finished it 3 times, claimed I must know the way and I was the one to follow, they told me about their past finishes and their own journeys to obtaining the black t-shirt and even joked something must be wrong with me if I was only doing the 50km (actually, there was that too, a pesky Achilles was troubling me for quite some time and I was stubbornly running through the pain with so much strapping and tape around my ankle). Truth is though, these conversations made me smile. They were a huge ego boost. I felt like the biggest, most bad-assed person on the course that day. We can’t deny we all enjoy a bit of a verbal pick me up! Ultimately though this just kept me running harder and faster than I probably should have been.

The hours and kilometres ticked by and passed ever so quickly. This last 50km of the 100km SVP is the more undulating and hilliest part of the course. There are plenty of short sharp climbs to break up the mostly flat path. I reached all the familiar checkpoints and aid stations and was welcomed with the usual buzz and support from the fantastic volunteers. Everything was going well. My Achilles didn’t start hurting until probably about 20km in and even then it was a manageable pain.

Every year I take the same pictures in the same place. This is one of my recurring favourite views from the trail

Besides running a little too fast for my current fitness level, the one mistake I made was to start filling my bottles up from the High5 powder available at checkpoints rather than use the Tailwind I’d brought with me. It’s a mistake I often make on the shorter ultras and I should know by now what will happen – cramps. My body is accustomed to the Tailwind solution and the added sodium content. When I switch to other products with less salt in them…. yeah, I cramp. It was a scorcher of a summer’s day too. So I shouldn’t have been surprised when I started cramping around the 40km mark! I had been fuelling well though and was far ahead of the finish time I’d set out with. So I started to walk more for the final 10km.

Along the last section I was playing leapfrog with a number of people I’d chatted to throughout the day. There was a friendly lady on the 100km who was running very strongly and full of enthusiasm, another 100km runner on his way to a 7-star finish (an immortal in my eyes! what an achievement). And another lady on her way to her first ever 100km finish. After a few kilometres the man vanished off ahead and I didn’t see him again as he chased his fastest finish time.

With just a few kilometres left, after the diversion on the route, I was trucking along quite comfortably, recognising familiar landmarks of the route. We were running along a path which I recalled and I had a feeling we’d soon be leaving it, back into the fields. There was a gate, I tried to go through it but it was locked. So I carried on. Through the bushes and over the other side of the fence I kept thinking I was going wrong. I checked my route and I was. I did need to go through that gate. I was confused. I tracked back and then saw a bunch of runners the other side of the fence. I knew it. How?! Turns out the padlock on the fence didn’t stop you lifting the latch (something I didn’t try as I only tried to slide the latch out). All was good again. Every year I miss a few turnings on this race!

Before long I was coming back off the roads and looping around the filed and heading towards the finish line. Here more familiar faces welcomed me and gave me my medal. It was by far the earliest (and lightest!) I’d ever finished the SVP course. It really makes a difference not doing the first 50km!

After a quick shower I was soon walking back along the roads to the train station eating the customary sausage and chips from the rugby club. A sub 6 hour finish was far faster than I intended and once more my Achilles was on fire. Time to go home and get ready for the next adventure.

Now I have the full colour collection of Green, Black, Yellow and Grey SVP t-shirts. The only question I have to ask myself is now I’ve chased the tees, do I keep going back and chase the stars? Time will tell…

Been there, done that, got the tee…

Past finishes

Bitchin

‘Bitchin’. Nope, not great or wicked. Just two middle age men actually bitchin for 13 hours. Nothing cool to see here. Nothing cool at all…

Bitchin is pretty much all me and Ged did whilst we ran the Ultra X Spring Series 100km. It led to a lot of laughter, passed a lot of time, and confirmed how similar we are. Nothing was safe from the sting of our words. None of it was really justified either, nonetheless that is how we rolled in our latest ultra marathon adventure.

I was probably already in a sub conscious bitchin mode leading up to the race where, due to my own lack of research and preparation, I realised I couldn’t get to the start line in time for the 06:00 start. The Race Directors were accommodating though and Ged and his mum stepped in to save my embarrassments with a lift down. Mini crisis adverted.

The start line was a very subdued place at 06:00 in the morning. With a small field of 100km runners we were split into the two allocated starting groups, given a count down and sent off in groups of about 30 people. Nattering away as we ran out of the recreational ground towards the road, our bitchin began. We couldn’t understand why everyone was running so fast already. Amateurs we thought, they’ll all bonk soon enough. We were pumping out a 10 hour 100 km pace for no reason at all. Many, many hours later we apologetically retracted this statement when we had passed maybe 2 or 3 people from that group only. They clearly had their plans and strategies like we had ours!

Pre race smiles

Running on, we were very much aware that the 3 biggest hills and climbs of the race were in this first 13 miles (which we’d complete again as the last 13 miles as we’d loop back in the opposite direction for the second half of the race), yet being full of energy and excitement, we didn’t notice these hills and barely felt them as we ran down (and up) steadily with fresh morning legs.

We did then get lost after a few miles, but we were not alone. Coming down off a trail descent we joined a country lane where the course markings vanished. Left, right or straight down were the choices. Some runners were coming back from the right and more joined us from behind (the second group of 100km runners who set off after us). With confused looks we all headed left and a few moments later across a cattle grid and straight down, then we all stopped as differing opinions on whether this was correct or if we should have followed the road rather than cross the cattle grid became clear. One runner (who I later realised was Scott Jenkins) was adamant we were right and Ged and I soon stuck with him. A few hundred meters later we then found some course markings once more. What had happened here we do not know! Yep, we bitched about the markings.

Early on, enjoying the ideal morning conditions

Back on track, it wasn’t long before we hit the first indication of the bogs and mud we’d encounter this day. It was nothing major but soon we were splashing through waterlogged fields and fully submerging our feet in the cooling water. At this point one of my shoes came off in the sticky mud. I managed to recover it before loosing it completely, but needed to stop to get it back on. As I sat on a log to readjust, my whole core started cramping and I couldn’t reach my feet, much to Ged’s delight. What a state to be in so soon!

We carried on as the surface became progressively more muddy and we were sliding all over the place as we approached the first aid station. We pretty much ran straight through as it was only 11 km in and didn’t need anything so early on. Ged’s mum was here, as she was throughout the day at each aid station to cheer us on.

The next section was full of the epic views of the Serpent Trail, exactly as I recalled it from when I ran the Serpent Trail 100km event way back in 2018! A beautiful landscape of thousands of trees with roaming views of the South Downs peaking through in between. Every now and again the forest would drop away to reveal the bareness of the hilly summits and reveal the scenic views in all their glory. Before long we were up running along some mountain bike tracks (which I vividly recalled from 2018) and into the second aid station. Here we stopped briefly and chatted to the volunteers including updating them on the sections were markings were missing/sparse and we’d gone wrong.

Soggy feet as we track towards halfway

From here to the third aid station was all a blur to me. I did slowly recall bits of it later in the day when we were back tracking along it. But, at the time, I must have switched off and been too engrossed in the bitchin to really notice it and take it in. Closing in on that third aid station we noted we were roughly a 1/3 of the way into the race. Which was good, because the legs started to feel like they’d done some running by now!

The volunteers at this next aid station were full of energy and we exchanged a few jokes and laughs with them. They lifted our spirits as we set back out for the last section back to the start/halfway/finish line point. This next section was an adventure for sure. The longest and trickiest part of the route I thought. There were a few sections that were very muddy. One short down hill section followed by two muddy climbs. Zigzagging down that first section we started to wonder at which point we’d be passed by the lead 100km runners coming back towards us or the 50km runners coming from behind and over taking us. Both seemed a real possibility as we started the 10km countdown to half way.

The up hill mud sections demanded a bit more effort from the legs as the mud started to sap our energy and we looked for the best line to climb along. Halfway up that second climb the first few runners leading the 100km started picking us off. Great effort, probably about 10km and over an hour ahead of us. The first runner was flying along and had a substantial lead on 2nd and 3rd at this point. As we started levelling out into some of the fields and road sections for the final approach to the 50km mark we started passing a number of the half marathon runners. We weren’t sure where they came from nor what point the courses joined up. Either way it gave us a buzz as we powered on.

Half way was upon us. I took a strategic stop here whilst Ged was reunited with his family. Quite possibly one of my fastest mid-race turnarounds where I was in and out in just over ten minutes with some fresh clothes and refuelled ready to go again. Unprecedented for me as I do love a good sit down and chin wag at half way, usually needing to be coaxed back out on to the course…

Coming into the finish, time to turn around and do it all again

The energy for the second half was high. As we ran we were now passing loads of runners from the 50km race and the rest of the pack in the 100km one too. As always, the vast majority of runners responded positively to a hello and offered up encouragement to us also. You can’t beat that buzz. Ged and I talked about this for quite sometime. It can make or break a race for some people. A smile can change your emotions, a “well done” or “Great effort” can pull you out of a dark place. BUT, you have to do it for yourself. So often you see people completely absorbed in the moment and struggling. If you can’t muster a smile or a grunt, you won’t find a way out and will continue to suffer. You need to make the corners of your own mouth move. If you’re reading this, try it! Smile, you’ll instantly feel better about everything.

We decided to play a little game and started repeating to the next runners what previous runners had said to us. My personal favourites were “You look fabulous”, “Brilliant, Brilliant” and “top work chaps” which was unfortunately repeated to some females. Hey ho, that was the game. Quite possibly thought, what made me laugh most was how I kept mishearing what Ged was saying. Every time he said “Well done” to someone, I heard “yeah whatever”. It was a perfect response for our bitchin mood and I really wish he was saying that. I’d love to know what reaction that would create if someone said it to you mid race!

It was time for the muddy sections once more and we couldn’t have been in a better place for them. High with energy, certain of what lay ahead, running down hill, seeing the pain and torture on the faces of those climbing it for the first time and sticking to the best line like we did earlier… we just went for it. We didn’t hold back and splashed on straight through, straight down. Practically hurdling our way downhill as the mud reached our knees in places. We were absolutely loving it. We couldn’t give a shit if we fell (it would have been soft!) or who we splashed with mud along the way. There was no better way to get through it. Wet and muddy was inevitable, we knew that, those climbing hadn’t yet come to accept the same fate. It was all too brief though as we completed each section so quickly. How neither of us face planted into the floor we’ll never know.

Along the way we passed many familiar faces like Ellis and Charlie doing the 50km. Each one lifting us up and giving us a buzz. We felt like heroes as we continued playing our game as, surprisingly, we kept meeting more and more runners all the way back to the third (now fifth) aid station. A huge cheer from the volunteers welcomed us back in as we all picked up where we left them many hours earlier with the jokes. I had to take a minute here, sitting on a tree stump next to a speaker pumping out classics hits, to empty my shoes of all the junk I’d be collecting along the way.

From here I couldn’t remember for the life of me what lay ahead on those trails I’d previously blocked out. We were both struggling to remember each section and the pace began to drop off as we walked pretty much every hill from this point back. The legs, specifically my ankles, were beginning to let their feelings known to me. Rightly so, the aches and pains were settling in.

We couldn’t have been far from the next aid station when the ‘heavens opened’. What started as a soft trickle of rain soon turned into an almighty downpour of hail. It was a little refreshing as we discussed whether we were going to stop and layer up. We opted not too. All around us were clear skies. It looked like a passing storm and neither of us fancied ‘boiling like a chicken’ in a waterproof jacket. We stuck it out and a short while later the summer sun briefly repaid our faith. It was a glorious evening now.

Into the second aid station we did a quick stop and refuel, acknowledging from here it was a mere 25km to go. We knew this was the point of the ultra where it would be come a slog. Time to dig deep for what was left. We set back out, running once more through the mountain bike tracks and the now very muddy and sloppy trails. They had been churned up by hundreds of runners and were now far less appealing to run than they were earlier in the day.

Beaming with BDE

We briefly passed some photographers gathering some drone footage on a hill through the forest tracks before we came slip sliding into the final aid station where the volunteers outnumbered us 5 to 1. Grabbing some cheese and onion crisps I received some odd looks from the volunteers when I excitedly asked if the lumps of cheese were lumps of butter. Disappointed, I stuffed cheese and Haribo into my gob. A strange combo I probably wouldn’t repeat again. I really wanted butter now!!

The last 11 km back to the event village was slow and arduous. I was in pain. My dodgy ankle was screaming with every step. Nothing to do except keep moving and make steady progress. From here we knew the course was basically 3 descents and 3 climbs. Lots of hiking ahead with gravity powering the running in between. We ploughed on, gradually making up some ground on a guy in front of us whilst simultaneously holding off two more who were gaining on us. Grin and bare it.

Clearly bitchin’ about something

Ged kept me going. He kept me distracted from the pains. Kept the bitchin’ coming even now many hours later. Occasionally we’d break rank to retract and excuse a bitch that escaped our mouths and which wasn’t justified. Mostly he kept the energy level there, despite it all we were having fun. And that was one of the moments of realisation of the day – we were having fun. You create your own fun and despite it all, we fucking love this. This is exactly the type of challenge we revel in… Earlier on, as is inevitable, we’d been discussing ultra running. Our experiences both shared and individual, what drove us and what dragged us through. It is here we talked about an effect that we came to call ‘BDE’ – Big Dick Energy.

BDE, we decided, was a mental state we work ourselves into during ultra marathons. A point of sheer confidence and arrogance. An unwavering sense of belief in ourselves and our abilities. A selfish expectation of deserving something, being better than everything and when nothing gets in your way of getting what you want. BDE was that invisible force that propels you onwards in the adventure whilst keeping you away from the darkness the mind can so easily slip into. You make that BDE, whatever it is that can shift you into this unreasoning state of focus, you take it. Right now I was seeping BDE from all my pores, radiating it like a jacket potato ready to explode in a microwave. To anyone I passed I was peacocking the smile and laughter that inevitably draws comments like “you don’t look like you’ve just run an ultra marathon”. I’d take those comments, absorb them and convert them into more BDE, a self sustaining aura fuelling the determination to get to the end. No one would know the pain and suffering inside.

We joked and referenced BDE endlessly through the second 50km. This was the experience of having ‘been there, got the tee shirt’. We knew what we were doing and that only comes with trying, failing, succeeding and repeating. I’ve said it many times before, running is hard. No run is ever “easy”. It’s the perception you create to get the run done that changes. BDE.

We hit that last climb. Out on the road now we were powering up. Me fast hiking, Ged shuffling part run part walk. We were laughing all the way to the end. We crossed that finish line surround by Ged’s family who themselves completed another ultra of their own chasing us around the course for 14 hours. Another 100km done. Another medal for the box of pain.

I’ll remember this day for three main things. Firstly, the vocalisation of BDE. Secondly, the amount of mud (it was far muddier than I expected). I don’t think I’ve emptied my shoes as frequently in a race as I did in this one. Three times I stopped to empty the shoes, once I had to stop because a mound of mud had formed under the ball of my foot. It was completely distorting the fit of my shoes, almost like I had a hard insert between my sole and sock. It was so bad I had to scrape all the mud out with my fingers and drag my sock on the grass like I’d stepped in shit. A new experience for sure. The third thing I’ll remember the run for was the bitching. We bitched about everything you can imagine. It was like we had this faux anger at every and anything we could think of. It passed the time so well and was equally therapeutic as it was pathetic if you’d heard us moaning. At one point we even bitched about colours and why something red wasn’t blue because we happened to think blue was a better colour choice. Anything we could moan about we did, and it made me smile so much.

As always though, none of these memories would exist without the excellent company. It truly does make these adventures. Cheers to Ged, he’s a top ‘chap’ and it had been far, far too long since we last ran a race like this together back in 2018!!

The Longworth family support
Finish line. Again

The Good, The Bad, The Ugly.

Since I started writing down my memories and running adventures, I’ve also summarised each year in a single blog. No different this year, only the content is a little blurred and includes a bit more personal snippets than I usually care to divulge, this being my running blog and all!

So where do I begin? Chronologically of course, but is it possible to recap the year that was 2020 without mentioning “the situation”. Probably not. It sucked for most people. Covid-19 that is. I don’t want to focus on it, but I have to acknowledge it. Like everyone else, it wasn’t the year we expected or planned for. So what started off looking like another action packed year of adventure with races spread across the year ended up being more fragmented with an unbelievable adventure followed by months of lockdown, a frantic flourish of running adventures before ending the year back in lockdown. It really was a year of good, bad and ugly running… 

Way back in January, in the shadow of Brexit, I left the UK late on the evening of the 31st January and began my planned adventures as I flew to New Zealand. The concern of Covid was becoming real and changes at airports and public places were starting to be seen. One week spent exploring the North island of New Zealand with the ‘Trail Maggots’ made me forget all about it. I felt untouchable on the other side of the planet. So off to Rotorua we went as I kicked off my year of running with my virgin ‘miler’ – the 100 mile Tarawera Ultra Marathon. My journey had begun with, once again, my biggest challenge yet!

My first 100 miler

Tarawera – What an experience! What a physically and mentally draining experience at that. But what a rewarding one. Crossing that finish line after 27 hours running around the spectacular lakes, mountains and waterfalls made me feel invincible. A hero to myself. Inside, my achievement gave me that warm satisfactory glow we all desire. I wore my finishers pounamu for weeks. Less so out of pride and more out of fear of losing it. I’ll never earn another medal like it!

Straight after Tarawera I spent another two weeks exploring the South Island of New Zealand with incredible adventures planned with Jorge, Natalia and Sean. I was now officially back at work (remotely) and was fortunate to be able to manage my time and squeeze in plenty of runs and hikes with the others. I didn’t want it to end, this was a dream. I still think about it. The space. The mountains. The tranquillity. New Zealand is a phenomenal place.

Next stop, for another week of work before two more weeks of holiday, was a stop over in Bali for a small piece of rest from running and hiking which, sadly for me, didn’t live up to the touristy hype. The places I visited in Bali were beautiful and dreadful at the same time. Still, I met Amir a few times on my travels here, ran around the Mt Batur volcano rim and recuperated a little ahead of the next adventure.

The next one really was the adventure of a lifetime. Adventures in Borneo. So much to say here. The Maverick team. Joanna, Richard and all the guys at Adventures in Borneo. The group of other runners, all the guides. The jungle. The rivers. The pineapples. The warm and welcoming Borneons… What a country. What an adventure. The only thing that would have made two weeks of running around Borneo (and seeing Orangutans) would be to have finished it off with a race. Oh, wait… I did! On the last day of my adventure I ran the Borneo Ultra Trail Marathon and finished in the top ten ahahaha what?! Told you it was like a dream!

The dream quickly became more of a nightmare though as I left Borneo as they entered a nationwide lockdown and made my way back to the UK. I had just two weeks left in my job and I was now panicking about where the work will come from as, the moment I touched down I was advised to collect my laptop and work from home for the remainder of my contract. The UK I’d returned to was unrecognisable. And not because of Brexit which had dominated our lives for so many years. Within a week of my return the UK had too entered a state of emergency and a national lockdown soon began.

Two weeks after I’d flown home, I joined thousands of others in the rapidly growing unemployment community as the lockdown was enforced and the future became bleaker. I was lost. I was worried. Coming back from 6 weeks away to find I was now out of work was not ideal. Still I was thankful. I had a roof over my head, my health and some savings. I tried to remain positive but did find I was bored very quickly. Even doing all those DIY tasks I’d put off for so long and getting involved with various Instagram challenges (including walking steps everyday throughout April) didn’t occupy my mind enough. Turns out work really does give us a purpose in life! A fortunate turn of events in May meant I did find work again thankfully. I was one of the lucky ones.

And so lockdown continued. Race after race was cancelled. I, like many others faffed about rearranging flights, accommodations and trying to recoup money wherever I could (and now in December still am!). The lockdown brought other benefits though. I found myself running semi frequently. Although starting work again I soon fell out of this routine as I struggled to adapt to a new one entirely built around staying in my bedroom for the majority of the day working. Then, a new challenge lay on the horizon though and my running increased once more. The Centurion Running Community One event. I planned it with a personal challenge – to run the entire Capital Ring route with Paul. What an adventure, what a challenge, I was focused once more. In June, just as lockdown began to ease, we set off on an incredible adventure and a challenging one given the circumstances (access to food, water and support along the way was severely impacted). In just a few weeks though I’d refocused my mind, had a purpose once more and even managed to explore many new routes locally within London in the build up.

Ran around London we did!

Fortunately, as the summer progressed, I maintained running thanks to the series of virtual events organised by Maverick Race. I’ve never been one to get involved with virtual events but these were with a difference. It wasn’t just a “off you go, do what you want” approach. They set up their event village and joined in with us each time and flooded social media throughout the day. It did feel like the closest substitute for a real event and provided a buzz that had been missing for so long. What a community!

In the middle of it all there was also a trip to Chelmsford to run with Joe. Joe and I, along with some others, had been doing various press-up challenges throughout lockdown and out of the blue Joe decided he wanted to run a marathon. So he did. With just a few runs under his belt he jumped straight in and ran a full marathon. What a guy!

As the lockdown restrictions continued and the cancellations came one after the other, wiping out my race plans, I was thrown another unexpected challenge. I had a place in two races on the same day in August and I hadn’t yet pulled out of either. The trip to Norway was inevitably cancelled but the Centurion Running NDW100 was still hoping to proceed. Suddenly, I was in line for another 100 miler again 6 months after my first. How had this happened!? This wasn’t the plan.

With just two months to re-plan and yet again refocus my mind for the next challenge, it is fair to say the training and build up was utter pants. I’m sure it was for everyone with the uncertainty. Truth is, by this point I came to accept that I’ve wrecked my body. My legs ached and hurt constantly. I’ve said it for a while. My approach is not sustainable. I can’t keep running so many long distance events and take the weeks off in between. I need to get back to a consistent level of running and training. The consistency I started to see at the beginning of lockdown was a thing of the past. But, hands up, I’m an addict. I can’t stop myself looking for the next challenge and signing up to more events and places to explore. I can’t convince myself to rest, repair and begin again. Maybe that would be my next challenge –  To find wisdom and search for that sensible bone in my body, before I break that too.

And so, August came…. Further lockdown easing along with changes to operations and protocols meant England Athletics started to agree permits for running events to begin again. NDW had been given the green light. 100 miler numero deux was on. It was happening.

100 miler number two.

It was a formidable challenge. Turns out a heat wave decided to hit the UK that week. As if it wasn’t going to be hard enough already now we had temperatures of high 30s to battle against also. Battle I did and with the help of Nick and Jon as my crew and pacers I earned my 100 mile buckle to go with my Pounamu. 55% of runners DNF’d that day. Perhaps I was still benefiting from running in New Zealand and Borneo earlier that year and had some heat acclimatisation still!

The following week I returned, hobbling, to my favourite event – the Stour Valley Path 100 – for my fourth time. This time though, not as a runner. I volunteered to earn my yellow Tee and give back to an event that I partly hold responsible for my fascination (obsession?) with ultra running. Thanks Mathew! After experiencing the Covid protocols from a running perspective the week before at the NDW100, it was surreal to experience it from the volunteer side that weekend and be part of ensuring the safety and wellbeing of other runners chasing their goals.

Volunteering is all part of the fun

Two weeks later came my first ever DNS (‘Did Not Start’) at the Wild Boar ultra in Bulgaria. We felt it wasn’t right to be swanning off and travelling the world during a pandemic so, instead, I went to Brecon with Jon and co. It was a sort of gentle easing back into running after the rigours of the NDW. I could have risked it and gone to Bulgaria but it wouldn’t have been the adventure I signed up for without all the others there too. Plus, I found the comparably small hills along the North Downs Way far more challenging than I expected. My Mountain legs were gone and I really would have struggled with the elevation of the Bulgarian mountains!!

After the adventures in Brecon, I was now booked into a double weekender with the Farnham Pilgrims marathon the day after the Eden Valley 50km. Earlier in the summer, as races were cancelled I started to book replacements. This worked out well as races started to get the go ahead but with limited places, they were selling out fast! The Eden valley Ultra was a joy. My first run with the Runaway Racing team and a beautiful looped course just South-East of London. The sun was shining for a super warm Indian summer day. I met Arlene and Jon and set off alone to chase a sub 6 hour finish. Coming in about 5 hours 20 with a big smile on my face I headed back to London to rest ahead of the following Day’s adventure.

Really enjoyed the trails on the Eden Valley ultra

The Farnham Pilgrims Marathon was also far better than I expected. Only because It ran along some of the NDW100 route, I assumed it would all be too familiar, but it wasn’t. The sandy course took me through parts of Surrey Hills I’d never explored before and I enjoyed running in the sun once more. The legs definitely felt the pains from the previous day and I completed the marathon in a similar time of just over 5 hours. The support from the Rotary Club throughout the event was top notch. We were well looked after despite the restrictions they had to put in place.

Twinning with Rob

Shortly after my double weekend, we received confirmation that the Cappadocia Ultra Trail in the Urgup region of Turkey was cancelled. We’d expected this and thankfully I hadn’t booked the flights to Turkey yet and didn’t have to worry about chasing any additional refunds. I deferred to 2021 and started crossing my fingers once again. I’ve heard such amazing stories of Urgup and I’m itching to get out their and explore.

September was finished off with my maiden trip to the Peak District with the Maverick Race and their X Series event. This was my first of the X Series events and I was excited to pop my Peak District cherry too. The weekend was fantastic, travelling and exploring with Nick, Ale and Maria. Nick and I ran the whole route together and were accompanied with Daisy who we found at the start line. It had been almost a year since we’d run together and it was great to catch up and hear about all the changes in the last year.

I had such a good time in the Peak District I immediately told the Maverick team I was available to volunteer at their Surrey Hill events the following weekend after my own plans for that weekend were cancelled. A group of us made the way down from London to help out which involved running part of the course, marshalling a road crossing, screaming and shouting into the rain and then helping sweep up the course markings after the final runners. It was good to be out volunteering again and it made me reflect on the different volunteer roles I’d supported events with over the past year. Definitely reach out to event organisers and offer up your support if you are contemplating volunteering.

Still high with excitement I managed to bag a last minute place in Maverick’s X Series Dorset ultra too. I was hooked. Ignoring the recurring aches and pains from all the running I’d been doing. At this point I couldn’t shift my mind from thinking that, all going to plan, with the remaining events I had booked in I’d be able to hit my 50th Marathon (official event of a marathon distance or longer) before the end of the year. It was a goal, a target now!

Maverick Dorset was like picking up exactly where we left off a few weeks earlier. A group of us headed down to the coast and the next morning left the starting line together for another 54km adventure. Through the morning rays we stuck together laughing and enjoying our adventure for 30kms or so until we split off into pairs to finish the day. More beers and Jimmy’s coffee awaited at the finish line before we headed back to the hotel to stuff our faces on some amazing fish and chips like champions.

The following weekend I was heading down to the somewhat familiar trails of the Beachy Head Marathon – I’ve run this course before, on the 30th December 2017, just as I started getting into trail running. But that was a social, group run. It wasn’t an organised event and now it was finally time to go and experience the route under race conditions. It was a tough day as I did set myself a time target for this event. After speaking with Paul and the cancellation of our planned trip to the lake district, I was now planning to be pacing Paul to a sub 20 hour finish on his SDW100 run in a few weeks time. With some incredibly basic math, I needed to be sure I could comfortably run a sub 5 hour marathon on the South Downs. This was my opportunity and I set out and achieved just that. It did give me some confidence as I’ve become so used to just plodding along and enjoying myself too much to care about finish times!

The next day, I headed back down to Eastbourne to help Jon crew Elisa and Lou on their South Downs Way 50 miler. It was great to be back on the other side of the fence and supporting and cheering once more. The girls were phenomenal and both ran a brilliant race to beat their goal and target time. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone mess about and enjoy a 50 mile run quite as much as they did!

I was now heading into a busy period with more back to back marathons and ultras. Next up was another first, the inaugural Wild Trail Runners Marathon as organised by Weronika. A few months earlier I’d offered to help support and run the route with her. The aim was to complete a trail marathon in 6 hours. No pressures. I just needed to help guide some runners depending on the numbers and local restrictions. It was back on the North Downs Way and running from Guildford to Merstham once more. There were about 13 of us so we split into two smaller groups and set off for what we knew would be a wet and miserable day. It certainly was wet, but not miserable as we slipped and slid along the trails. Sadly two runners dropped out before we reached Box hill so we reformed into the original larger group when Weronika and her runners caught up with us. Weronika pulled off a fantastic day and we were all treated to a Wild TR branded beer and a homemade medal for our efforts. I didn’t know then, but it was likely that this bonus medal was to be my last and final medal of 2020…

Arriving home that Saturday evening, everyone’s least favourite Boris announced that England would be back into lock down for a month. Within hours it was confirmed, the SDW100 was cancelled – I’d no longer be pacing next week. The Wendover Woods 50km was also cancelled and soon after it was confirmed too that the Camino Lea Valley ultra would also go the same way. My adapted plans to complete my 50th marathon in 2020 were over. There were bigger things at stake once more and rightly so.

This set me thinking. It was time to do the sensible thing. It only took a second bloody lockdown for some sense to be knocked into me. It was time to rest. With the Cheviot Goat scheduled to be  just 4 days after the lockdown was proposed to end, my expectations for it to go ahead were small. My intentions to start the event if it did proceed, they were becoming increasingly smaller… a few weeks later it was indeed cancelled and I deferred to 2021.

And so it was the most opportune time to rest I would have for the past 3 years. 2020 has taken its toll on me physically. I achieved a lot. A helluva lot! 3 of my 5 furthest runs had been completed this year. I did it without any structured or even routined training. I lost a lot of fitness and winged a lot of my events. I relied on my brain and experience (no bad thing!) and to some degree just shrugged my shoulders and got on with it. I was in physical pain. For months now, during each run, no matter the distance, my right leg hurt. It started with a calf pain after the Tarawera Ultra Marathon in February. It morphed into a shin pain after I ran the Capital Ring. Then since the end of summer it was my ankle that was the problem. It was weak. It felt brittle. It hurt a lot even when I wasn’t doing anything. My mindset was simply to normalise it. If it doesn’t hurt any more intensely when I run, then I’ll just keep on running. After the last marathon in October, I had similar pain in my left ankle too. Great, twatty twins for legs. Constant pain wasn’t a good enough reason to stop and rest in my mind. But, Boris had thrown me a lifeline. An opportunity. I had nothing to run for in the next four weeks. Removing the Cheviot Goat from the equation meant I had no goal or focus until the beginning of 2021. Suddenly I had time to stop. Time to rest, to repair and then to rebuild. My Lockdown plan became clear in my head. I planned to not run (yes! Not to run!) for 6 weeks. 6 weeks without pounding the ground, 6 weeks with a shift to low impact exercise to maintain fitness and strength. 6 weeks to allow my body to heal. I’d then start again, easy and low mileage and build it up gradually. The goal was to give myself a chance, a chance to get through 2021, as the way things are lining up, 2021 will fuck me up even more than 2020 did! What I was doing was not sustainable. A new approach is needed, a new beginning was required.

This had become my biggest challenge and thankfully the lockdown removed a lot of the temptation to run which made it easier. It didn’t however remove the temptation to plan and sign up to more events which I succumbed to way too easily. I made it through 5 of the 6 weeks. I was happy with that. I could have made it to 6 but I started exposing myself to running again and the temptation became too much. I felt good. I felt like I’d had a strong and consistent 5 weeks and vowed to continue the strength training, yoga and cycling that I’d reintroduced to my daily routine. 2021 was inching closer and I had new goals and targets to prepare for…

Quite a collection of real(!) and virtual achievements during a pandemic!

That was the year wrapped up. 2021 is now full of deferrals and substitutes and packed more tightly than 2020. 2020 started amazing, went rockier than the Trans Gran Canaria of 2018, but, somehow, I ended the year with almost 50 marathons under my belt (by completing another 8 official events). Wow, how did this happen? I vividly remember telling people about my plans to do my first ultra just 3 years ago. Here I go though, cracking on, I’ll hit that 50 milestone in 2021 for sure and might as well target the 100 at some point. For fucksake Dai…

Final Thoughts….I am in control. My happiness is paramount and everyday I have the courage and ability to protect that happiness. 2020 came with challenges, heartbreak, fear and more worries than I’m comfortable with. Difficult decisions and obvious sacrifices were needed and there were plenty of mistakes made along the way. Whether it is running or my personal life, I know I can, I’m sure I can and I will and I do. I trust myself and know I’ll never forget what I can control and what I can change to achieve what I set out after.

In last year’s recap I noted down some standout memories, so I thought why not, lets do it again…

Best Views

  • The lakes of the Tarawera 100 Miler in New Zealand. Just stunning.
  • Borneo Ultra Trail. The mountainous landscape and dense jungle forests and Mount Kinabalu as the backdrop
  • Maverick Peaks. Talk about unadulterated skylines. Hardly a building in sight. Not the highest, but a spectacular landscape.

Hardest Race

  • North downs Way. I didn’t set out to do a second hundred mile event in 2020. But as I approached it, I did want to make sure that the first one wasn’t a fluke. This was supposed to be easier than the first. It turned out to be harder. One of the toughest I’ve done. A heat wave in the UK, my body was drained. My mind was constantly fighting. The 55% DNF rate says it all. I’m proud to have completed this one.
  • Borneo Ultra Trails. The heat and humidity on this race is by far the worst I’ve ever experienced. It was a long hard day out in the jungles of Borneo. Powered by fresh Pineapple and a rest of well over an hour where I didn’t stop sweating at the halfway mark got me through. Jumping on a 15 hour flight 10 hours after finishing was probably not the best decision I’ve ever made!

Let it be known that you can measure the difficulty of a run by your love of the Chair! The state of me!

Best Achievement

  • Tarawera. My first 100 miler. Like any first, it will linger in your memories forever. What a place to experience my first 100 miler. Everything about this event was fantastic. I’ll never forget this achievement.
Trail Maggots in New Zealand!

Best Kit Bought

Tough one, I’ve not had to buy much this year as I already own far more kit than I need. Almost by default it goes to the Adidas Terrex Agravic Split Shorts. Less the ‘best’ and more the ‘new’ item of kit I’ve enjoyed the most – I needed new shorts. The shorts are proper short but kitted out for trail running with multiple waistband pockets and pole holders. They are made of pretty much no material (not reflected in the ridiculously expensive price!) but are so comfortable to wear. 

Short twins

Most overused Kit

  • Inov8 Roclite 275G. Damn these shoes are like slippers and boy are they tough and hard wearing. They’ve been on all the big runs in the last year. I’ve now switched to using them for the last half of these races (which in a few cases have still been 80km runs!) as they are so comfortable and offer great protection when my feet are a little worse for wear. The Graphene grip is fantastic too.
  • Squirrels Nut Butter. You don’t run 100s of miles without chafing and the Nut Butter is by far the best anti-chafe solution I’ve used. My skin would be non existent without this!

Fav Race Swag

  • Maverick Race won this one. For all their events, besides a medal you get items from their many sponsors. Iced Coffee, beer, protein bars, protein shakes. Whatever goes on the day of the event you are doing. One thing is for sure, when you finish, you struggle to carry everything you’ve just been given. Most generously, this was also reflected in the virtual event series Maverick put on in 2020 with many vouchers, discounts and stickers arriving in the post for the events you completed. These guys know how to please us!
Maverick Swag-athon

Best Dog

There were a lot of dogs on the trails this year. There were two standout candidates though…

  • The late comer that was Bruce with his little bowtie – a ‘borrow my doggy’ dog that Nick started bringing on runs. Boy can this lil’ fella run and he’s the quietest dog I’ve ever met.
  • Then there was little Bonnie who took us on a run around the Thursley Nature Reserve in Surrey. She started off unsure, but a few hours later was chasing me around the field. 

Thought of the year

  • That was a good few miles of running!!” After what would always turn out to be just a few 100m of running during the tail-end of the NDW100 event. Time and distance were certainly distorted for me!
  • When Nick offered me painkillers in the NDW100 my response was “nope, don’t fuck with the boys in the Command Centre“. Got to keep the mind clear and stay focused, pain and discomfort is a remainder of the reality of the situation.

Fav Trail snack

  • Pineapple. I’ve never tasted pineapple as good as that fresh pineapple growing on the Pineapple Ridge in Borneo. It has always been my favourite fruit but this took it to a new level!
Baby Pineapple

Best Medal

  • Without doubt the Tarawera 100 mile finisher Pounamu. I will probably never receive such a fantastic finishers gift again. Personal, chosen by me from the hundreds of variants on the finishers table. Earned, not bought. This is something else!
POUNAMU!!!

Most memorable moments

  • Running around London with Paul. it made for a great Strava map!
  • Finishing the NDW100 knowing that it meant the first 100 miler I finished wasn’t just a fluke.
  • The end of the rest period!! I was glad to be back running again.
Not sure if I mentioned we ran around London?!

Most beneficial training

  • Toss up between stairs (again) and yoga. Let’s go for yoga. 20 minutes a day has now become part of my routine. Never have I stretched so much in my life! To be fair, I did try yoga for the first time in the most spectacular of places in Borneo…

2020 was not all that bad it seems, but lets not be too positive – let’s get some miserable shit in here as well this year, simply because I’m a grumpy Grinch…

Most irritating comments of the year

  • This must be easy for you”. This always feels like some sort of backhanded compliment smothered in self pity at the same time. Here’s the thing, no, no its not. No run is ever easy and they can’t be compared. For example, having run a longer distance previously doesn’t make a shorter distance run any more achievable or certain.
  • What’s your next race / what have you got lined up?”. I may just be a grumpy twat, but this always feels like a bit of small talk and an opener for someone to just brag to you about what they have coming up.
  • I couldn’t do what you do”. That’s bollocks. You can. Anyone can. I’m not special. What you’re really saying though is “I don’t want to do what you do”, because if you did want too, you would.

Social Media trends that annoyed me the most

  • Boosting one’s self worth by offering some much needed “top” tips to nobody who asked… oh it’s warm, top tip – drink water and hydrate when you run. Never thought of that one. No one cares.
  • Advertising the water repellent fabric on your (gifted) trainers by running through tiny puddles. Sigh. No one cares.
  • Measuring your trail running CV by the amount of mud on your shoes/socks/legs. Well done. No one cares.
  • The ongoing need to demonstrate one’s resilience to weather by captioning that you are wearing shorts. Congrats, we can see that. Guess what… No one cares.
  • The Instagram inception stories… you know the ones where I share a story you tagged me in and then you share my story and I share your story of my story of your story and down the narcissistic rabbit hole we go. Yep, No one cares.
  • Posting a story of your own post on Instagram. Got to hit that “look at me” algorithm. Still, No one cares.

I could go on but I won’t because clearly I do care. Dammit.

Worst recurring song lyrics stuck in my head

  • Have you ever put butter on a pop tart, its soo frikken gooood…” Cheers Nick. It’s been lodged in there for months
  • On my last few runs it has been “Scooter – Fck 2020” that has been stuck on loop. Every so catchy/terrible and certainly the song of the year.

Maverick X Series Peak District

This was one of those events that wasn’t on my radar at the start of 2020. After The Maverick X Series Snowdon was cancelled, I changed my entry to the X Series Peaks event instead. The Maverick Race team have been incredibly accommodating throughout 2020 with all the cancellations and deferrals. I was excited by the change, you see, I’d never been to the Peak District before. I’m not sure how that was the case seeing as I like to go and explore with running, the Peak District is a trail runners paradise! Now though I would finally get that chance thanks to Maverick Race!

There were a lot of familiar faces heading from London to the Peak District and unfortunately, due to changes to the Government restrictions the week of the race, we ended up forming smaller groups to be compliant. I’d be heading north with Nick, Ale and Maria. Nick even added me to the car insurance for the weekend as it was a long journey and it would be the longest event he’d raced since he started running – his legs may not have been up to the full drive back to London!

We spent the night before the race over indulging in some fantastic food at a nearby restaurant Jon had kindly booked for us. I sure did over indulge that night and struggled to get to sleep as a result. Thankfully come the morning though I was ready for more food and Nick and I managed to get the hotel to make a bacon/sausage sandwich we could take on our run. Ale and Maria were running the Marathon distance so we’d meet up with them again after the race as Nick and I had another 13km or so to run and so started earlier. 

Ready to run

We walked over to the event village, registered with ease (as is typical at a Maverick Race) before seeing all the familiar faces we knew – Alan, Gif, Claire, Yvette, Ben, Jon, Elisa, Lou, Sophie and Daisy, as well as all the recognisable faces volunteering and working the event. Chatting away, we all started moving into the funnel of runners being let off at 10 second intervals. Nick and I lingered fairly near the back chatting away to Daisy, Sophie and Gif. Before long it was our turn and we stepped forward together as the Geezers of Maverick Race rang the bell and sent us off on our adventure. Leaving the field Jake snapped our pictures and we exited onto the trails as we slowly began the first of many many climbs we’d experience.

Jake capturing the emotion of the Maverick Event

The initial route saw us run alongside a hill on a cambered, single track path before joining some wider gravel trails. We lost Gif here and carried on chatting with Sophie about the day ahead. We walked the hills enjoying the company as many other runners began running past us. As always, what goes up must come down and we were soon running through some open hillside paths heading to the forest in the distance. After a brief spell of running we were reunited with Daisy and began catching up on the many months since we last ran together at the end of 2019! Plodding along with enjoyment it wasn’t long before the first marathon runner whizzed past with “Calves like bollocks” as Nick excitedly exclaimed.

It was about 4 miles in now and I was getting desperate for a toilet, which was bad timing as  we approached the delight of the park surrounding Chatworth house. Sadly far, far too public to escape and relieve myself! The view of the house was spectacular in the morning sunshine. We ran through the grounds and alongside a river before exiting through a medieval kissing gate that rotated.

Chatworth House

After leaving Chatworth house the trails began to climb again, initially up a steep road through a village and then through the dense forests of Froggat Woods before summiting near the Froggat Stone Circle. Up top there were loads of cows chilling out on the paths not one bit bothered by the runners huffing and puffing up the climb. After running the undulating hill with uninterrupted views of the surrounding area, we began our next descent which was fairly short but one of the more technical parts of the course with lots of wet, slippery rocks to navigate.

We emerged to the first aid station where we proceeded to refuel. Prawn Cocktail crisps catching my eye and getting the taste buds flowing. As we walked on, stuffing our faces, some eager runner started shouting “out of the way” as he barged through us. We were all thinking the same thing – “who is this Jerk?!” before realising it was Ale with his GoPro. Classic.  He’d made maybe 20-30 mins on us after his later start, however we managed maybe just 50m together before we hit the course split where we diverted for the longer route. No sooner had we said hello then we were saying our goodbyes.

The split took us on the next climb through Bolehill Wood, just as Nick started eating his breakfast sandwich. It was steep, occasionally the hands were needed for some extra support. Not a good time to eat, and neither was the next section as we ran through some stunning white tree forests. Nick cursed at us loudly as we made him run. The route climbed and we briefly sumitted as we circled around Over Owler Tor and the vast open space of the peaks greeted us with incredible panoramic views before we ran off through some open heather-dense trails and a short decline to a road crossing.

Open hillside tracks

From here we looped around the highpoint of Higger Tor and began the next long climb to the highest point on the race (a gradual climb over about 2 miles of distance). We walked and talked, enjoying everything the Peaks were giving us. We knew up top the delights of the next checkpoint would soon welcome us with another well deserved break. We hiked steadily, passing a few runners along the way including two ladies in hi-vis orange t-shirts. I remembered earlier thinking they were marshalls, but we never quite reached them. It made sense now. We also passed a couple and the girl was visibly struggling a little. They said they were ok and continued behind us as we navigated the busy trails with many walkers and hikers.

As we reached the short flat break before the last bit of climbing to the summit we saw the aid station in a tourist car park. Spenny was out there (clearly very cold in the blustering wind) supporting the runners and we spent our time chatting away as I devoured more Prawn cocktail crisps and stocked up on Haribo. Spenny sent us on our way and told us to look out for Jake taking more pictures up top. We were too slow though, we met him way before we even began the final short climb. We stopped once more to chat and as we did Sophie came jogging passed us and insisted she was running for the photo. We clapped and cheered her as Jake worked the lens.

After saying goodbye to Jake we took another moment to stop and to take out some layers and gloves. A few mins chatting at each stop, plus the exposed trails and high winds meant we were suddenly feeling the chill. We knew it would be worse further on so took the chance to address it early on. Good call! Up top was very chilly! The winds were strong and we hit them head on. Loads of walkers were enjoying the views here and we joined them for some photo opportunities before trudging on and running as much as we could across the rocky trails.

Nick along the summit line

The trails were undulating and we constantly switched between a slow run and walking. With all our stopping on the way to the peak, we’d been passed by all the runners we caught on the long walk. I could see the two “Hi-vis ladies” in the distance. We ran on and saw the Maverick signs direct us sharply left where we’d begin our descent. I hadn’t seen the ladies turn off. I was certain they carried on straight and were now lost to sight of the lumpy terrain. A climber heard us discussing it and confirmed he saw them run on straight. I told Daisy and Nick to continue and I’d go after the runners and then catch up. I sprinted on straight. It wasn’t long before I could see them and soon after they could hear me shouting after them. They figured out my waving gestures and headed back towards me. I turned around and started back after Nick and Daisy, bounding down the descent with a smile on my face, but now hot. Very very hot! The faster running meant I was suddenly overheating and had to start stripping the layers away again when I caught them. About half way through the descent we reached a road and stopped once more as Nick then needed to take his jacket off. He didn’t look great and vocalised it well. He was “bonking”. 18 miles in and his legs were hurting and he needed a moment. He drank and ate and re-composed himself. No shame in admitting when something is tough. When running ultras you need to recognise these moments. Understand when they are happening and learn not to ignore them. Taking the time to address and correct them is key to continuing the race successfully. He managed it very well – he just needed a moment to refocus and agreed to continue the descent and we’d stop again at the bottom. We were moving once more and completed the descent through fields and single track paths as we headed towards the village of Hathersage. Marshals directed us through the streets and we found a quiet road to take the rest we promised.

Nick sorted himself out, finding what he needed from his pack and taking a painkiller to ease the cries from his knees. As we started out again we were joined by Gif. We carried on together for about half a km before we stopped again as we found Paul King from the Maveick Trail Division team out on the course checking runners were ok and the trail markings were still in place (There were some issues with course signs being removed the night before the event!). I was loving all the stops to chat to the volunteers and Maverick Crew. It is such a friendly company and set of events.

After leaving Paul we ran about 4 miles of fairly flat trails through more fields, alongside the river, down through allotment paths and country parks surrounded by more towering trees. We took turns to spur each other on, continuing to chat as we had non-stop all day. I could hear Nick talking away and I led on, knowing he was distracted from his aches and pains. We caught up and lost Gif once again on this section as we left Froggat. We passed another field with some young cows happily lazing on the trail path. We hoped Gif would navigate them ok – there were loads of them and they didn’t look like they would be moving anytime soon!

We had two more short but steep climbs to overcome near Stoney Middelton before we were running in the forest once more. It was tough here. We’d covered more than a marathon and the path was slightly inclined and very straight. We kept moving. Head down. Nick leading the way, high off the kick of his painkillers. We kept repeating to each other “keep going”, passing walkers as we persisted to get through this long straight, torturous trail without stopping. Eventually we did, emerging into more fields before beginning our climb up the long wide gravel path. It was another slow and ongoing hike as we walked past the quarry. We knew this was the last climb though and just a few miles would be left once we reached the top. But it felt like forever.

Eventually it came to an end and we were once more heading down, for the last time. After crossing a recently ploughed field, we joined the Monsal Trail. A walking and cycling path near Bakewell. We had about 3 km to go. No problem. Only the 3km felt like double that. It was flat, more gravel, straight and full of families and young children cycling. It was dull after all the beauty and excitement of the last 7 hours. Nick was storming ahead, getting it done. Daisy and I followed on behind him. 

Corn fields towards the end

As we came off the trail and headed back into the Showground we knew it was done. One last run down the showground road to the finish line. Smiles all around, relieved to be off the Monsal Trail, relieved to be finishing the run, relieved to soon be heading home to warm up and eat more great food!

We hit the finish line stretch, I pulled my buff over my face and crossed the line. There were loads of our friends there cheering us in. We joined in with beers and medals as we too cheered in Gif who finished shortly after us. It was just our group and the Maveric Team remaining and for me this sums up the spirit of Maverick Race. What a community, supporting and cheering, helping out and creating an inclusive environment for all kinds of runners. Thanks again Maverick Race!

Farnham Pilgrims Marathon

Whilst out on a recce run of the NDW100, a group of us discussed various runs later in the year we were hoping would still go ahead (Covid innit) and which were on or near the NDW. Two that were on the list were the Eden valley Ultra and the Farnham Pilgrims Marathon. They were the same weekend in September though. Arlene had an idea – double weekender! We all agreed to sign up. Only Arlene did….

I did sign up to the Eden Valley Ultra, and got as far as the registration screen for the Farnham Pilgrims Marathon. Only I didn’t complete the registration as it said there were over 400 places available. I held off. A few weeks later, whilst running the Fox Way, we found out that the Farnham Pilgrims Marathon had sold out. Doh. Arelene was booked into a double weekend on her own. Oops.

As the weeks went by, with some luck I managed to get on a waiting list and subsequently obtained a spot on the Farnham Pilgrims Marathon. We were back on! Little did I think that after the NDW100 I would not want to spend much time on the North Downs Way again. Oh well.

Shortly before the race weekend the organisers announced the protocols they were putting in place to ensure the event went ahead safely. One of which was dedicated start times. Arlene was starting at 07:20 and myself 2 hours later at 09:10. We said we’d see each other at the finish line, and we did….

The week before the race I was speaking with Rob from the Wild Trail Runners who had also signed up. He kindly gave me a lift to the race, which I’m so thankful for as it started in the middle of nowhere if you weren’t arriving by car. Upon arrival you were requested to arrive no more than 20 mins before your allocated start time and to wait at your car until your wave was called forward. Rob was starting at 08:40 so I had a little longer to wait in the field until I was beckoned forward. Temperatures were checked and wrist bands issued rather than numbered bibs. A short wait in a taped off area before we were released onto our marathon journeys.

Beards, Caps & Wild TR

With the first steps I was aching. After a fairly speedy 50km the day before, it is fair to say my body had definitely not recovered. I was also probably grossly under fuelled for such an adventure having missed lunch the day before as well as being in a calorie deficit from the race.I knew it was going to be a long day ahead and I was full of acceptance of the torture I was about to endure. Everyone from my wave had overtaken me before we’d made it out of the starting field (probably about 20m!). I was at ease.

I joked about the start of the race being in the middle of nowhere, it is, but it was also very familiar to me after the NDW100. The start was in The Sands, along the road on which the Farnham Golf Club is, which was about 3 miles into the NDW100. Today we ran around the roads on the other side of the golf course and continued around Seale, we’d come back through the fields I’d run during the NDW100 on the way back to the finish. After Seale we rejoined the North Downs Way as we passed through the instantly recognisable Totford Woods and on through the village of Putenham. I was passed by many runners up to this point, thankfully though most were the half marathoners who were speeding passed and who turned off at Puttenham. We passed through Puttenham Golf Course which I again recognised from the NDW. Here though is where we deviated from the NDW and, rather than following the NDW towards Guildford, we took another set of trails further south which saw us run along many single tracks, stables, and country lanes until we reached and crossed the A3100 further south along the River Wey. We then followed the river and snaked along the trails for a few kilometers near Chantry woods.

Whilst the trails were new to me, they were similar terrain to the other trails along the Surrey Hills – sandy and bumpy. Lots of short sharp climbs and lots of trudging through loose sand tracks. In these first ten miles my legs only felt heavier and heavier and the quads and hamstrings burned with the extra effort to push off from the sandy tracks. It was also another scorcher of a day. Thankfully there had been a few water stops already and these were going to be ample throughout the course, or so I thought –  the one section they weren’t, was from here to St. Martha’s on the Hill, probably where I needed it the most.

As we edged closer to St Martha’s the incline began to increase. If you don’t know it, the church is on one of the highest points along the Greensand Ridge. Situated just outside of Guildford along the NDW, it is a trail frequented by runners. It’s not the highest nor hardest climb in the area, but it does take some effort.

I’ve never approached the hill from this route before. First we passed a field with lamas, before we started gradual climbs through desolate and barren (recently harvested) fields, before zig zagging up some sandy trails from the south. I soon realised where along the ridge line we were emerging. Along the way the same woman passed me twice, first powering past me, the second time making up for time lost after a wrong turn. I was more confused by her when I saw her for the second time. Up top I was out of water, huffing and puffing from the climb and had a dry mouth from my failed attempt at eating a Clif bar. I thought there might be a water stop at the church but it wasn’t. I had to continue down, tracking west along the NDW for a little longer before reaching the much needed water stop which was nicely situated in some shade. I took a few minutes here and used about 2 litres (1 in my bottles and 1 to drink / pour over my head). It was a very sweaty day now. From this point I was seeing a lot of runners now. Both those over taking me and those I was catching up from earlier waves.

Refreshed and cooled, I had a nice little jog on the go as we descended back towards Guildford. My legs were now more numb than painful and the shuffle was consistent. We broke off from the NDW again as we followed the trails up to Pewley Down (which had some amazing views!) before following the NDW again back to Puttenham Golf Course. Along the way I took advantage of every water stop I passed. Refuelling and pouring a bottle over my head to keep me cool. I was struggling a bit in the heat. 

Views from Puttenham Common

Back at Puttenham we turned off for the final set of trails I was unfamiliar with. Now we followed pretty much the route that the half marathon took earlier in the morning. Well, I thought I was unfamiliar with the trails but it turns out we had a short section along the Fox Way which I recently ran too. I recognised a sign on a gate about not leaving dog poop on the trail! After this we ran a few hilly sections passing through Puttenham Common which I really enjoyed. I enjoyed the hills, because I didn’t have to run, I enjoyed the views which were spectacular and I enjoyed the ponds we ran alongside. I was surprised how many more beautiful trails there were. I hadn’t thought I’d be seeing so much more of Surrey on this run.

Emerging back into Totford Woods we had about 3 miles to go. I knew what was ahead now as we’d have a long straight stretch through some fields that we bypassed on the outbound journey when we went via Seale. Here the photographer was waiting to snap us. Out of the fields it was a slow and gentle incline along the roads back to The Sands. Just before entering the field I passed a runner dressed as Superman doing his 100 marathon. Impressive. I cheered him on before taking out my Buff to cover my face (as requested from the organisers) as I entered the finish line. I plodded on in, collected my medal and found Rob and Arelene patiently waiting at the van. It took me about 9 minutes less than the day before (8km shorter). I’m undecided if I enjoyed it…..

Double Weekender complete

I did enjoy the new trails I experienced and the stunning Surrey Hills and countryside. I also enjoyed the marshals and all the volunteers from the Rotary Club of Farnham Weyside. Everyone was so helpful and cheerful. The people really do make the event and I’ve heard in ‘normal’ years there is an abundance of cake and home made food during this marathon!

I didn’t however enjoy the experience of back to back races. I’ve not yet been seduced by multistage events (although briefly considered registering for the 2021 Dragon’s Back race but thought better of it!) and doing my own back to back has only reinforced that this isn’t for me right now. I prefer the challenge of being in the moment and persevering rather than stopping and starting again the next day.