Every now and then I get that itch. There’s space in my life when one running adventure ends and the next isn’t planned or any time soon. I get restless. I need something no matter how small to fill the gap.
Earlier in the year I’d seen this gap coming and noticed that the Winter Chilterns Ridge 50km by Runaway Racing was organised to fit nicely around this time. I mentioned it to a few others, but ended up signing up alone. I did a Runaway Racing event many years ago, the Eden Valley, which I loved. So knew this would be a great and well organised event.
It was an early wake up to get to Berkhamsted for about 7:30, giving time to register and get ready for the 8am start. After registering, whilst pinning my number on I saw a few familiar faces. First Mark, one of the Shannon brothers and then Jay and Cat. We had a brief chat before Chris from Runaway Racing set us off on our way.
It’s Jay!
We started off with a punchy little climb of about 50m or so as we left the cricket club, which to be honest, took the breath out of me. I’m not sure what it was, but I immediately felt ‘unfit’. I think it was the brisk, cold morning and initial stampede of runners which I got caught up in leaving the start line. Thankfully it went straight back down hill and I soon found a better rhythm and pace to settle in to.
uphill struggles
The route was delicious. We started out in fields and then weaved our way through lush forest trails making our way towards Tring. Here the paths opened up into the hilly countryside and we were presented with the early morning views. Tring can be a bit lumpy at times, but the route avoided some of the bigger climbs available. The participants started to spread out a little as we followed the undulating trails before hitting the first aid station. We were about 18km in by now and I was quite peckish (breakfast around 5am was a long time ago!). I stopped for a fair bit and scoffed down plenty of Jaffa cakes, crisps, sweets and party rings. Love a party ring! I briefly saw Jay and carried on.
From here we passed through Tring and joined some forest trails that would take us through Tring Park and over to Wendover. This section was all quite new to me. I’ve run a few times in both Tring and Wendover but never the bit in between. We’d run on both the Ridgeway and Chilterns Way paths. I really enjoyed this section. It started with a big hug from Zuzana who was volunteering and I hadn’t seen since this time last year when we ran the Yorkshire 3 Peaks together. I spent a bit of time running with Jay and another runner who we kept leap frogging with. The chatty miles through crisp forests with trails covered in golden leaves was refreshing. We had a nice long uphill section and eventually came to a fork in the paths where we split off to run downhill to the second aid station at Wendover. After more fuelling it was a brisk hike back up the hill to the fork and off in the other direction.
Forest trailsLeafy smiles
Most of this next section I ran alone as the field spread out more. Jay had stormed ahead before the second aid station and I just couldn’t keep up. With 30km done I was aching and my left ankle was quite sore (I rolled it on a run the week before). I tried to block it out and walked any inclines and tried to take it easy and maintain a decent pace. Somewhere here I caught up with a runner who was hobbling through cramp. He reassured me he was fine and then we both laughed as I cramped up as soon as I passed him. I made a note to take on some salts at the next aid station! Approaching Wiggington there was a very long straight section through forests that led us into the final aid station. I took time to keep fuelled and stuffed plenty of salty crisps into my gob, rearranged my back pack and set off on the last 10km to the finish.
There was a nice long, gentle downhill section before we steadily climbed up hill for about 2km. I walked this and tried to hold back some energy for the rest of the route which would mostly be downhill to the finish line back at Bekhamsted Cricket Club. We had some undulating trails alongside fields and through more forests. My mind started to question where the finish was as we’d run down the hill we climbed at the very start. I couldn’t figure it out, I was wondering where in the distance that hill would be, before suddenly realising I was already on it, half way down! I picked up the pace and ran the last few corners a little harder, into the cricket club and across the finish line.
Over that finish line
I went inside, grabbed my bad and saw Jay and the other runner I’d shared some miles with. I darted straight inside for a shower and to warm up. It was the coldest shower of my life! I was shaking trying to get my clothes on afterwards. But I felt so much better for it. I went of to get some Pizza, but frustratingly they’d already run out, so instead headed straight for the train and began the journey home.
Just like my last experience on the Eden Valley ultra, this was a great event organised by Runaway Racing. Really high quality organisation!
This year, I took on the challenge of the Lakes in a Day ultra marathon – 50 miles of rugged terrain, iconic peaks, and unpredictable weather, tracking from Caldbeck in the North of the Lake district to Cartmel in the South. The Lake District threw everything it had at us, and yet, the rewards were, unsurprisingly immeasurable…
I ran the race with Paul, Darryl, Matt, and Matt Buck. Paul and Darryl have both run the race in previous years and were the instigators for this adventure. They took great pleasure in the weeks leading up to the event to scare us with stories of the weather conditions we could expect and recalling their previous experiences.
We travelled up to the Lake District on the Friday, collecting Matt from Manchester airport on the way and stayed over in a converted, large (stately?) home in Grange-Over-Sands just outside of Cartmel. We had some questionable moments in the accommodation that seemed almost supernatural. I had great fun gamifying this and turning random lights on and off to play tricks on the others. I was easily entertained.
The night before the race, we had a pub meal near by and then headed to Cartmel to register at the local school, where the race would finish the following day. The registration area was buzzing with energy as runners queued in the cold outside, eager to register for the adventure ahead. We went through registration and kit checks, ensuring we had all the mandatory gear (although the checks seemed to be on random participants not everyone), and collected our trackers. The excitement was palpable, though there was also a tinge of nervousness in the air as we left.
On race morning, we were awake way before dawn to drive back to Cartmel to get the bus to the start. The bus ride to Caldbeck was filled with chatter and laughter as runners were squeezed into a coach that could sit 5 people per row (a new one on me). There was a very amusing and memorable moment when one runner, sitting at the back with Paul, joked about some runner he had seen carrying a “bum bag,” poking fun at the size of the pack he was carrying his mandatory kit in. We burst into hysterics as he didn’t know that the ‘bum bagger’ happened to be Paul (and we love making fun of his bum bag!). The humour lightened the mood, even though it was cold and dark in the early hours. It also meant Darryl avoided much of the stick for his highly fluorescent orange attire that made him look like he worked in B&Q!
After getting off the bus, as we waited in the rain for the race to start, I bumped into Andrew, an old colleague I hadn’t seen in years. It was a surreal moment of briefly reconnecting, though I never saw him again during the race. He had a fantastic race, finishing hours ahead of me with a very impressive time. Back at the start line, with minutes to spare, the race director briefed us on the course, safety and expectations of runners. Then, without notice, he started counting down from 3 and started the race.
The first major climb up to High Pike was long, wet, and shrouded in mist. We started on a few kilometers of road as we weaved through Caldbeck and then joined the trails. A huge snake of runners lining up on the trail. Here the visibility was low, and the trail was slick. The wet ground and steep climb was an indication of the journey ahead. Slowly we climbed higher and higher in single file as morning fought its way through the darkness. The rain eased but the wind kicked in the higher we climbed. In the mist the trig point of High Pike slowly came into view. Up top the wind battered us and we set off to conquer the undulating fells ahead. After a while we were ready to descend. Thankfully on this side of the fells we had a little shelter from the wind. The rain coats remained on though, keeping us warm and protected. The descent on single-track paths was a welcome relief. They were very runnable and for the most part on clearly defined paths at a steady gradient. The path led us down to the river crossing, which, to my surprise, was lower than in previous years – making for a smoother crossing. Paul and Darryl began to tell us how bad it was previously. The rest of us continued to make fun and count how many times they mentioned it! As we crossed over, volunteers were standing in the river to help guide runners across safely.
The river crossingnot very deep!
Next came the long ascent to Blencathra. It was bigger than the previous climb and was slow going – our legs already heavy from the initial climbs and soggy ground. We weaved our way up muddy gullies which made getting a grip and pushing off difficult, even with big lugged fell shoes on. The higher we climbed the more the fells dried out but the more the wind started to pick up and batter us again. Up top more trig stones came into view as we pushed on, head down fighting against the head on winds. Volunteers cheered us to the summit and wished us well for the descent down Halls Fell into Trekhold. Here runners who didn’t feel confident on the ridge could divert down to Trekhold via the less technical Blease Fell.
Hunched over fighting the wind
The ridge line descent of Halls Fell into Threkhold was exhilarating. It lived up to the hype from Paul and Darryl’s’ stories. The clouds had cleared and the views were breath-taking, but the terrain was challenging. It is a ridgeline stretching for a few hundred metres as you descent on sharp and slippery rocks. Volunteers were placed at a few points to ensure participant safety and a photographer perched on more stable ground slightly below. We traversed the ridge and the rocky descent down into Trekhold and the first of three aid stations.
The aid stations on the course are quite something. You hear about them from other runners (Did I mention Paul and Darryl had done the race before?) and you get an itinerary of the available foods at each station in the pre-event emails. This one was great. Full of fresh sandwiches of multiple varieties, an endless amount of cakes (including good ol’ swiss rolls) and pastries and more sweets and chocolates than I could name. We took some time to fill our bellies, knowing that it would be a long time until we ate substantially again (the next section is almost 30km long, mostly on top of the fells). We laughed as Matt (Buck) traversed the food tables filling up an A4 size ziplock bag with food like he was intending on never returning into society again. We then left pretty abruptly as we started to get cold, even inside the aid station.
We ran a few fairly flat kilometers as we left Trekhold. First on roads leaving the village, then footpaths crossing the main road and back out towards the trails. After which the tarmac gave way to wet boggy ground again near the quarry. Leaving the aid station it started raining heavily and we were already soaked through before reaching the trails. Starting the climb towards Clough Head I had a few niggles that were concerning me. My left foot was in pain around the metatarsals and I loosened my shoe laces several times to try a release the pressure a bit. But also I’d noticed that I’d begun to loose sight in my right eye. This is an experience I’d faced twice before, once on the Tea Round in the Lake District and the second time in Norway on the Lofoton Ultra Trail 100. On both occasions in similar gloomy weather conditions. At this point there was nothing I could do about it and I knew it would get worse before it got any better.
As we continued towards Clough Head, the trail took a sharp and sudden incline towards the summit. We could see the odd runner with high visibility clothing climbing along the side of the mountain. As we too reached the climb it was apparent just how cold and wet it now was – I had three pairs of gloves on which, together with the weather conditions was making it difficult to eat and drink to maintain fuelling. We climbed in almost silence as the wind also made it hard to talk and hear each other. Increasingly we were spreading out and I couldn’t see Paul or Matt (Buck) anymore ahead of me.
Once on top we covered about 10km of undulating trails, crossing the ‘Dodds’ towards Hellvelyn. The trails led us up and down various climbs, each with different terrain and challenges. The ground was a mixture of wet, muddy bogs, defined paths and more rocky sections. It took a while and I was glad of the company of Darryl and Matt, even though we could still barely hear each other as we tried to talk. Only as we neared Hellvelyn the rain did ease up and the clouds started to clear. We could see Hellvelyn way off in the distance now, but first had the rocky, difficult climb to get there. I feel that the wind picked up even more here and I personally found it hard going to keep walking in a straight-line. I was walking almost diagonally, head down, to keep on track and every time I lifted my poles they would be blown to the side. It was a good, but unwelcomed, core workout!
On the way to Hellvelyn
It was nice to reach Hellvelyn as it was only the second time I’d been there and this time we would descend in a different direction from my previous trip. We now headed off towards Grisdale Tarn and Ambleside. The steep descent to Grisdale Tarn wasn’t an enjoyable relief from climbing. The wide pathed path was wet and slippery and I took to running the steeper trails that ran along side them. This caused my foot and ankle to hurt but felt like a safer way to descend down for me. We crossed over to the other side of the tarn and followed the descent with a steep ascent straight back up towards Fairfield. I don’t think we could have climbed any more slowly. Our legs, which were already aching, were now pelted by a painful hailstorm that stung our bare skin. It didn’t relent the whole time we climbed and our legs were red by the end of it. My eyesight had indeed deteriorated and I made sure Matt and Darryl both knew I had some issues seeing. I estimated that in my right eye I was down to about 10% visibility now. It was all blurry and I could make out shapes close to me, but not distinguish colours or the human form! With both eyes open this affected my overall visibility, so from time to time I’d try and close the right eye. I was reluctant to take any further action though until I reached the next aid station.
Once we’d climbed to Fairfield it was quite rocky in places as we crossed straight over the horseshoe. I really wish I could have stopped and taken pictures as the clouds had once again dispersed and we could see some amazing views. There was no way I was faffing with my gloves and phone in the high winds though.
The next section to Ambleside was a bit of a drag. Matt had vanished from my (admittedly limited) vision and Darryl stuck with me throughout this section to make sure I was ok, helping me navigate the best paths along Fairfield and down into Ambleside. Here it was quite rocky in places and his support made a significant difference calling out objects as I struggled a little with my depth perception. I’m grateful for his presence during those tough moments.
Darryl finding the quicker route
After a few kilometers we did catch back up with the others and for the first time for hours were together again as a group as we continued down and into Ambleside, running through the streets of the town to the next aid station. Like Trekhold before it, we were welcomed by amazing volunteers and huge amounts of food including pizzas, hot soups, pastas and warm drinks. But first though, a change of shoes…
At Ambleside we were allowed a bag with just a pair of trainers and socks for the second ‘half’ of the race. We would now no longer go up high on the fells, so a change into less aggressive trail shoes was most appreciated. My feet were begging for a change and I was relieved to swap my fell shoes for more comfortable trail shoes, which made a noticeable difference for the next section and certainly made my left foot feel better. It was very organised if not a little limiting in the aid station. When you arrive you are shuffled into a dedicated area for changing your shoes. You either have to change your shoes straight away or take little protection covers on your shoes to enter the area with food and seating. I would have liked to have sat with my shoes off for a few minutes whilst I ate.
After a decent stop and plenty of food, we regrouped and left Ambleside together with our head torches out ready for the night to begin. As I promised myself, I ‘did something’ about my eyesight. The only fix I have is to wear a buff diagonally across my head to force the eyelid to stay closed. I’ve found from experience that having the eye closed not only improves my overall sight, but gives the eye a chance to rest and recover. ‘One-eyed Willie’ Darryl called me as we reminisced about the Goonies.
We now had a much more manageable ’14 mile’ section that include some roads and lots of small undulating trails. There were a few noticeable climbs but none of any significance. We ran and walked along the road sections, weaving on and off the paths that ran alongside and connected the trails. We passed a few runners and a few runners passed us too. For now though, as darkness set in, we were very much ‘in our place’ in the mid pack of the field of runners. On the single tracks and forests we mostly ran in two groups. Those in a ‘three’ and two behind. From time to time we’d switch places and conversations. My self and Matt (Buck) chatting away mostly whilst the others continued with the usual word games to distract and fight off the fatigue. As always it was a fun way to bond and keep our spirits high and so nice to be able to talk to each other again with out the wind.
We covered the ‘flatter’ part of this section quite quickly and soon overcame the largest climb of the second half which was mostly on country lanes, a refreshing change! From here we navigated back to the footpaths running along side Lake Windermere. The water was glistening in the moon light. We were quite fortunate as we continued through the night that it was mostly dry apart from a few short showers. The wind had also significantly dropped at the lower altitude so we weren’t too cold (the rain coat and 3 pairs of gloves stayed on throughout though!). At one point, in a long forest section, there was a surprisingly steep forest climb that caught us all out. It was frustratingly tough despite how short it was, we lumbered up the steep steps and climbed and slipped in the wet and muddy earth. We were all relieved to get over that one!
This whole section just dragged on. The darkness made it feel so much longer and tougher than it was and our feet were cold and drenched from wet, boggy paths near the lake. I moaned a lot (as I always do) as each stone, tree branch and rock caused my feet to react in pain. There was definitely some trench foot and blistering going on, but nothing I would do now until we finished. I just had to suck it up and put it to the back of my mind. Throughout this section the buff and eyesight was irritating me and I constantly needed to make adjustments to keep it comfortable.
We came across the final aid station at Finsthwaite around 23:00. The sight of a dry, warm and well lit aid station was so welcomed. By now I was out of water so was ready for some refreshments! I removed my buff as I entered the aid station and was happy to confirm that, with some rest, my eyesight has started to comeback. I could now make out the human form and brighter colours so was confident it would recover completely before the race was over. The volunteers were absolutely top here, the lovely ladies and gents inside entertaining the crowds of runners sitting in the warmth. Endless amounts of warm food was leaving the kitchen directly into the hands of waiting runners. Melted cheese on ham and toast a particular favourite. One lady was calling out variations of soups and warm rice puddings and custards that they could prepare. After a few warm soups I did take a “boring” plain rice pudding which was delightful.
We did sadly have to eventually leave the comforts and complete the remaining 7 miles. The last 7 miles were a little more lumpy as we made our way towards and over Newby Bridge and Speelbank. Unlike the lakeside and forest trails before, we spent more time here on tarmac roads, fields and low hills. We pretty much walked this entire section as a group. Certainly I had no inclination to put any effort into running anymore (not that I had much for the previous 10 miles either!). Throughout, with less tree coverage here, we had great views of the spectacular large and orange moon. Eventually we emerged onto what we were certain was the last road. Albeit we’d be on this stretch of road for a few kilometres. First completing the final climb, then the long straight descent towards Cartmel. Somewhere here the road flattened out and we had 2kms left to run. We ran passed the carpark and ‘racecourse’ where other runners would be camping for the night. We were all so glad that we’d found a parking space in the town near the school and didn’t have to hobble all the way back out here later on.
Onto the last stretch we could see the school lights up ahead. We walked to that finish line ever so casually, most of us with our hands in our pockets (keeping them warm) and barely managing a smile for the photo finish.
The casual walk. Photo by Andy Upton
The finish line was brilliant. The photographer took loads of photos of us and we were relieved of our trackers and given tokens to get a warm meal. The food van had many variations of chips to satisfy our hunger (I went for the chilli on chips option). Inside we sat and ate, then changed into some warm and drier clothes for the drive home. Back at the haunted house, we showered and very quickly drifted off into a well deserved sleep!
Lakes in a Day 2024 was the furthest I’ve ever run in one go in the Lake District, and certainly the toughest run I’ve ever faced there. But every gruelling climb, every gust of wind, and every drop of rain was worth it. From the challenging weather to the glimpses of views to the camaraderie of fellow runners, this race will forever be etched in my memory. Already, I’m looking forward to planning the next adventure.
In a day!
On the subject of eyesight, I’m not worried at this stage (and hence the calmness I had during the race – admittedly the first time I experienced it a few years back I was pretty freaked out!). There are many documented events of participants in endurance events experiencing loss of sight and similar symptoms. There are even quite a few publications on the topic of ‘Ultramarathon Associated Visual Impairments’. This article is particularly informative – https://www.irunfar.com/vision-loss-in-ultramarathons-looking-at-the-research and explains known links to Corneal Edemas, which results in painless clouding of vision due to stresses (like altitude, cold, dehydration, debris, wind, etc.). Interestingly, there are known links to refractive surgery which, yep, I had a few years ago! Anyway, it is on the list to discuss for next time I get my eyesight checked out…
Many years ago I signed up to a race in Bulgaria, the Wild Boar Ultra, but due to travel restrictions (remember those Covid years…) I never made it to Bulgaria. Fast forward to 2024 and I was finally travelling to Bulgaria, with a group of friends, for a different race, the Pirin Ultra. Specifically the 66km ultra race. As part of the event there are different distances including the very wild 100 mile race and the very technical 38km ‘Extreme’ race. The pictures and videos of the Extreme 38km race dominate the advertising for the Pirin Event. It looks incredible, but a little terrifying too with very long ridge sections and strict entry and participation criteria. The 66km is probably the tamest of the events on offer, but tough in its own way. So we all signed up to the same race.
Running towards somethingA thingPosers
Our adventure began on Friday in Sofia with plenty of food and a little sight seeing on foot on Saturday morning. I say ‘little’ as it is not somewhere I thought there is a great deal to see. I’m being ignorant to the history and culture of Sofia but I honestly thought the city was just ‘meh’. We’d rented some cars and made our way to Bansko for Saturday evening where we we instantly realised there was plenty more to see and enjoy there. We began to get excited that, soon enough, we’d all be running around the Pirin mountain range.
Our evening was a little time pressured as we arrived in town just before 6pm, checked into the hotel then headed straight for registration and then dinner. Registration was smooth with a full and thorough kit check, but disappointingly a ‘ravaged’ participant pack with left over sized tee shirts and no ‘freebies’ that had all gone. We faffed a bit finding somewhere suitable to eat (only so much meat and ‘Big Knuckles’ could be handled pre-race!) and were back at the hotel for 10pm with not much time to pack and get ready for the early wake up call.
Race registered
Just before 6am on a bitterly cold morning we were checked into the race starting pens with our trackers attached and activated. We had a short but chilly wait until we were given the signal to begin our adventure and we, along with about 230 other runners, found ourselves running through the cobble streets of Bansko in the direction of the main road through the town. Once on it, we followed the road up toward the mountains. Very early on Carl and I stopped to take our jackets off as we started heat up and instead of running started walking.
Freezing cold in the morning
The route of the 66km race would see us make three ‘chunky’ climbs to different peaks. The first about 1500m, the second 1300m and the third a more modest 900m. Of course between each we’d need to descend too. So basically the course went ‘up’, ‘down’, ‘up’, ‘down’, ‘up’ and ‘down’ again like some computer cheat code from the 90s’. This did mean though that it would be easy for us to keep track of where on the route we were at any point!.
The first climb was the longest and, over 15km, took us up the main road then into some forests before we started ascending on the mountain. On the road we’d already removed a layer as it was hot, but in the forest we began to feel the icy morning cold quite quickly in the shade of the trees. At this point I was with Carl and Ale, Vanna and Gif were just behind us and further up ahead were Reka and Jon. The morning grew lighter but colder as we slowly climbed, passing a few parking spots and ski resorts. I refrained from layering up but made sure I would do so at the first aid station which we reached after about 10km.
At the aid station I did just that, adding arm sleeves and gloves. My fingers were numb and took a little while to warm up, I was so glad to have the Montane Prism gloves though as they were a bit thicker and warmer. Prior to the race I had heard that the aid stations were ‘crap’ on this event and now I had the first sample of the limited options available. It was crap, but at 10km in I wasn’t bothered and I ate a few pieces of bread with tomato paste spread on them. Different to what I’ve encountered before, but it did the job and satisfied my early morning hunger.
Early morning views back over Bansko
Whilst at the aid station we’d all regrouped with the exception of Jon who was gone. Reka, Carl, Ale and I all then left together as the route first continued into the forest and then left the mountain roads behind as we made our way onto the mountain. We made a very small wrong turn but were soon back on track and pausing to look back at the incredible sunrise back over Bansko. The ground around us frosty and glistening as the sunshine started to fight its way through and break the darkness of the morning. As the sun light hit us we instantly warmed, it was a great feeling. We ran along side some rivers and could see the ridge lines that the 38km route would take (the more technical course) on the other side of the mountain range. The trails smelt beautiful with local herbs (I forget what we were told they were, but similar to lavender) dominating the air and I was amazed how silent it was as we climbed higher and higher. It was truly surreal and peaceful. As we began to climb the steeper, rockier section to the first summit we found ourselves behind a blind runner with his guides. I was amazed. It’s incredible that this man was able to navigate this terrain without sight. There were rocks everywhere as we clambered over boulders and rocky paths, yet he was moving with a quick pace. We were in complete awe (we later found out he’s very experienced endurance athlete for many disciplines. What a remarkable man!).
Once we summited the views were spectacular. 360 degree panoramic views with mountains all around us as far as we could see in all directions. In front of us the descent was pleasant looking as we’d now traverse along the side of the peaks. Carl started running and the rest of us couldn’t keep up. Before we knew it he was a spec in the distance getting further and further away. Reka, Ale and I ran a fair bit and passed many hikers out on the trails who’d woken early to enjoy the sunrise. At the end of the path there was a sharp turn and we began to descend. The first climb was over and now it was time for the first descent. Here we met a runner from the 100 mile route who’d started the morning before us. He stuck with us as we moved swiftly down the mountain path and into the forests below.
We were moving well and passed a load of runners in the forest as we followed the trail markings down. Ale was setting the pace despite his struggles and not feeling well. When Ale isn’t enjoying the down hills you know something isn’t right with him! The forests we ran through were dense and lush with pine needles covering the floor and the sunlight squeezing its way through the gaps in the tree tops. As we neared the bottom there were streams and the trails were a little wet and muddy in parts. Overall though the descent was smooth. I remembered thinking this was a very kind way to descend from a summit at 2,600m. It was no where near as rocky as the ascent was. I was relieved. On the way down we passed a a tap and quickly filled another bottle and then had a short gentle incline on a wide gravel track before we finished descending. We’d now done the ‘first’ mountain and had two more to go…
As quickly as that we were climbing again. We reached a small collection of (massive!) houses in the forests as the gravel track became an asphalt road and, after a short climb on the road, entered the forests once more. The start of the climb was rocky and steeper than the first climb we’d done. The three of us were now spread out a little and I found myself alone with my head down focusing on the terrain and climb. It was warm and sweaty but far more comfortable than the cold from hours earlier. This section to the second aid station was the longest part of the course at 19km. I’d filled a third bottle at the first aid station and was so glad we found the extra tap along the way. I was drinking plenty as I pushed up the climb. After a while of lunging over large boulders as we climbed through the forest there was a break in the treeline and the next aid station appeared – the Begovista hut. It seemed large but wasn’t really. There were two tables set up outside for runners (although you could go inside I didn’t). The spread was the same as the previous aid station – salami, goat cheese, bread with tomato paste, bread with chocolate spread, Turkish delight, banana and cucumber with as much salt as you wanted. Annoyingly the water was all in big (15L) containers that were difficult to tip and fill yourself (and no one was helping). I filled my bottles and then sat and ate some bread and chocolate. They’d already run out of coke at the aid station which was annoying as I was looking forward to some sugar! As I was sitting, Reka soon came in followed by Ale who was determined to stop here. This seemed inevitable and he’d been talking about it for a while so I was not going to try and convince him otherwise. I offered to stay with them both but ended up leaving alone.
Somewhere on the second climbSlowly tracking to the second summitViews back over the mountain range
By this point we’d climbed less than half of the total elevation of second climb and still had close to 900m to go. The rest of the climb was a lot harder than before. We started weaving through the dense forests, which was a little more tricky to navigate (I thought the course marking was a little sparse here) and the climb was much, much steeper and rockier. It took more effort to push up with a consistent pace and I was definitely moving more slowly. After what felt like an eternity we emerged from the trees, high up on the mountain side with more incredible views all around. The mountain started to flatten out a little and we navigated across it through low level bushes with no clear path. In the distance I could see the real summit with the outline of runners making the way up and onto it. It was slow progress crossing the mountain and starting the climb which was all off track. The flag markings were clear but there was no defined way to follow them without a track, so I just headed in the most direct way I could. The higher we went, the more rocky the ground became. We climbed the last 300 or so meters over a few kms.
There was a short ridge line section with a sheer drop to our left but a spectacular view looking back over the mountain range we’d ascended a few hours earlier. To our right the drop was much more gradual and there was a path to follow. Along the path I went enjoying the views and wondering where the sounds of people were coming from. It soon became clear as we started to descend quite sharply along a boulder section and the voices could be heard from below. The little scramble caused my legs to wobble a little as we traversed a few 100m using all fours to descend. Once down, we turned back and would begin the big descent off the mountain and down to the next aid station.
The descent was quite fast. Pretty much all of it was off track and straight down. It was steep, but doable at a good pace. I fast walked as the rocks persisted and moved more quickly with a jog when the ground allowed. I felt good and found myself overtaking runners, skipping over lumpy tuffs of ground, streams and large boulders that were now more sporadically scattered over the mountain. The further down we went we ran back into forests. Here we crossed many streams and in places the track was quite slippery and a little muddy too. I was so glad it was a beautiful day with dry conditions for the run. It wasn’t too steep in the forest and I was able to maintain a run and navigate the terrain without too much difficulty passing more and more runners along the way. We broke free of the forest and onto a dirt track, rounding a bend to the delight of the third aid station which marked the end of a 10km section that took over 3 hours. It was definitely harder than the first climb! I’d now covered about 40km and two of the three climbs so was ready to enjoy a quick break…
I hated this aid station though and it wasn’t the rest I needed or wanted. As soon as I walked in the smell of cigarettes hit me. It was like a wall of filth slapping me in the chops. There were people sitting and smoking in the hut. The section of the hut segregated for the runners was small and cramped and the foul smell of smoke lingered above the food. The small space presented the same food offerings on two tables and two more tables for runners to sit/eat. The tables were wet and dirty and I contributed to the mess by spilling more water when trying to fill my bottles from the big 15L containers. I took a few minutes to drink and eat but desperately wanted to leave as quickly as I could. I found Bulgaria as a whole on this trip quite unpleasant because of the attitude to smoking. It’s culture and behaviour is stuck in the past with smoking allowed indoors and people inconsiderately chain smoking every and anywhere. I found it very off putting. In this environment it’s not something I want to encounter. I’m out enjoying nature and pushing my physical and mental capacity enough without the intrusion of other people’s disgusting habits. So I swigged some Coke, filled a third bottle of water and left quickly.
The next section began with a short stint back in the forests before what I dubbed as the valley of 1000 cows and 100 streams as the third climb started far more moderately that the previous two. Through the valley we hiked pretty much in a straight line for probably about 7 kilometres. There were vague paths and sporadic marking that we roughly followed in a straight line. The vague path that had been eroded in places and was narrow and difficult to stay in without tripping over your own feet, so I found myself hopping from side to side along the edge of the path. All along this section were cows grazing, loads of them. Some small and skinny some large and healthy. A few had calves and some had horses for company or dogs guarding them. None of them were phased or bothered by the runners though. At one point a large cow came out of the trees directly in front of me and looked quite shocked to see me walking towards her. They were all very placid.
ValleyStill the ValleyWay out of the valley
The navigation through the valley also meant crossing loads of small streams back and forth. I was quite surprised how wet wet and boggy in places it was, although I shouldn’t be with the majestic mountains on either side of me! For the most part I managed to keep my feet dry and kept pace with the runners ahead and behind me. Along this section I started talking to a Bulgarian, David, who we’d been leaping frogging each other for a few kms. We chatted away and wondered together where the valley was taking us. Up ahead the peaks came more and more into view and it started to become a guess as to how we’d be making our exit from the valley. The valley started to gradually disappear and the higher we climbed, the larger and more prominent the mountain peaks became. However we would exit was going to be tough! Eventually you could see the runners climbing to the left, little dots on the side of the mountain. The marshy grassland became drier and the rocks and boulders started to appear again. After part of the climb we passed a lake with incredible reflections and then began to turn towards a saddle in the mountains, this was our exit route. It looked steep. The closer we got the clearer it became, we’d be climbing a rock slide to escape!
One mountain lakeAnother mountain lake
I don’t think this section was as bad as it looked. Really it wasn’t that long, although it was fairly steep. The main problem was that my body was tired. We’d done probably close to 4000m of vertical gain by now so my legs were understandably fatigued. So this last push required some hard graft and deep breathes. We climbed around the side of the rocks to the right, pretty much straight up and then traversed the rock slide to the other side. Once over we followed short switchback paths back and forth to the top, which were a little more pleasant and much easier. The silence of the mountains was occasionally broken with a cheer/yell from every runner before me who reached the summit. When it was my turn I think I just said ‘wow’. The view was something else, in all directions, it was spectacular. It was about 7pm and the day was starting to end. Behind us the sunset created incredible shadows on the mountains, ahead of us many lakes sparkled in the dying daylight and many more mountains were still visible in the orange sky. I took a load of pictures and then descended. Running where I could as we passed the lakes and headed to the final little incline.
Escape route from the valleySunset viewsMore sunset viewsEven more sunset viewsSunset views in the other direction
Not all the climbing was done just yet though and we had one final climb to get up and over the mountains. The climb itself wasn’t as memorable as the previous one. The rocks were loose but the path was defined and gradual. From the summit we descended a scree slope with twisting switchbacks swooping down steeply which was a bit painful on the feet and ankles. Ahead of us lay more rocks as far as the eyes could see in the diminishing light of day. I was hoping that the final descent would be better than the two previous ones (it looked a bit more gentle on the route profile) and I was keen to get the rocky section over with quickly. I caught back up with David and two other runners just as the remaining sunlight faded and had to stop and take out my head torch (I was optimistically hoping I’d make it to the final aid station before I needed my head torch). I fell into line behind them and we all walked briskly together in the darkness. I could have run but quite enjoyed the pace being set. The trails were still very rocky and not the most forgiving on the feet after over 50km. My ankles were quite sore and I hoped the trails would improve the further down we went, so I stayed in line with the others. Everyone was eager for the last aid station but it never quite seemed to appear. Frustratingly I don’t think we’d covered as much distance on the long climb as we’d like to believe we had. We probably moaned for a good few kms before lights eventually appeared further up on the trail and the aid station became visible.
Start of the final descent
I was feeling the evening chill now and was hoping we’d be inside so I could layer up and not get too cold whilst refuelling. Annoyingly, despite there being a hut, we were once again cramped into a small space outside and once again served the same limited options. Getting water here was also painful as the large bottles had some hand pumps on them that weren’t really working and the volunteer was trying to fix them and tip the half empty one into the other so I couldn’t access the water when I wanted (he seemed to prioritise this over filling people’s bottles). Whilst waiting I heard the others suggest we continue together as a group. I’ll admit I wasn’t really interested in the idea and was ready to be alone and wanted to now ‘run it in’. There was a bit over 10k to go. I told them I was cold (which I was) so wanted to get going sooner. Despite it all though, we did end up leaving together (I must have faffed a bit!). So I made sure to be at the front of the pack and upped the pace, walking faster than before as we moved over the rocky ground.
As the rocks turned to gravel I started running. The group of four then became two groups of two as David joined me running. He agreed he wanted it to be over now sooner rather than later. He ran fast though, faster than me. I kept up as much as I could and he was a great pacer for me. For the next 10k we ran when we could. Through fire tracks, gravel tracks, down roads and more forest paths. After about two thirds of the final section, we left the gravel tracks behind and alternated between the main road (which I think led to all the ski resorts) and the forest paths that cut a straight line through the hairpin bends. The marking was a bit hard to follow at times but we pretty much got through it without error thanks to the headtorches picking up the reflective tape in the pitch black darkness of the night. Before long we left the wooded areas for good and followed the main road all the way back to town. We had about 4kms left to run and now re-joined the road we started climbing on some 16 hours earlier.
Despite running at a healthy pace, it was still a long way into town and the finish line. The long straight down hill to town was about 2kms, the stretch through the town another 1km then we had the cobble streets to the finish. We passed many runners from the 38km, 66km and 160km races as we pushed to the end without stopping. At the finish line David’s family met him and then I followed across the line to be greeted by my friends (except for Vanna and Reka who were still out on course). I was glad to be able to stop!
Finisher!
At the finish I sat and layered up with my spare clothes and joined the others as we waited for Reka to finish and Vanna to return. Unfortunately Vanna, Gif and Ale had to stop their races. But each had an adventure of their own getting back from the aid stations where they stopped. Overall I had a great time on the Pirin ultra. The route is tough, technical and challenging. The landscape is breathtakingly beautiful. It’s such an incredible place to run and one I won’t forget any time soon. What an experience it was!
The downside of this adventure is that there are elements of the race organisation that could (need to) be dramatically improved. For an established event the simple changes seem obvious from a runner’s perspective. The aid station offerings really are quite poor. The limited and repetitive options were drab. Nothing sweet and very little variety in the savoury. No hot food or drinks and cramped set ups at half of the aid stations. Providing some additional basics (crisps? candy? another fruit option?) would make a huge difference. As would something hot. It wasn’t really a problem on the 66km course (I could carry enough of my own supplies not to be impacted) but I was speaking to a British guy doing the 100 miler and he made the same comment. They had no hot drinks, not even hot water, for them and only once he had some hot soup. Some of those runners were out on course for 50 hours! Also, stop the smoking at the aid stations!
The biggest criticism I’d have though is the strange stance/approach to DNFs (Did Not finish – retiring from the race) the organisation seems to have. They have cut offs so you can get timed out and you can also DNF at your own decision, but it seems that there is no provision to ensure participants get back to Bansko from the other side of the mountain range safely… Ale and Gif spent many hours getting back from the second aid station. They were told their choices were to continue or cut the route short by walking 10km (with 1000m elevation) directly to the third aid station (but with no directions) and then hitch hike from the town. How is that safe for someone who has judged themselves not in a suitable condition to continue?! They only managed to get back as another participant dropping out offered them a lift from their partner, but they had to walk 5km back to the main road to meet them.
Vanna’s experience is even more wild with a group of 10 drop outs at the third aid station told there is no way to get back to Bansko and they would have to stay the night. Eventually, the hut manager (?) reluctantly agreed to get them a taxi from a nearby town but charged them an extortionate 300 Bulgarian Lev to drive them off the mountain to the main road, Squeezing 8 of them in one car. There he’d arranged for two associates to drive them back to Bansko, again at an additional inflated cost. The race director eventually intervened (only after one of the participants called an ambulance after feeling unwell) and drove to intersect them at a petrol station where he argued with the drivers and made the runners change vehicles. Vanna eventually got back to Bansko around midnight but there still seems to be an expectation that he is going to pay a few hundred pound to someone for the privilege?! Mental.
I think as a race organiser you have to ensure the safety of your participants. You have to accommodate participants dropping out. If not ensuring transportation back to the start, making it clear that if you do drop out, you won’t be given transport and will be expected to find your own way back. As I finish writing this it seems there is a change in organisers taking place, perhaps with it improvements will follow…
The Shere Marathon is organised by the Surrey Trek and Run shop. A few friends had mentioned it and so I signed up with short notice with Carl and Natalia as a team. It would be a good chance to run together before out next event. We arrived early into Shere for an easy start with a small field of runners and a modest start line which we joined right at the back after saying hello to some other friends at the registration area.
ready to roll
The start saw us run a lap of the playing field, following someone with a smoke/flare, before joining the trail and beginning the first climb out of Shere up to the North Downs Way (NDW). A lot of the route would be along the NDW and the Greensand Way trails. Both are trails I know pretty well and I was certain I’d run all of the route before at different times previously. On this occasion we’d be running a loop clockwise, Initially along the North Downs then dropping off and passing through Wotton towards the Greensand Way.
From Wotton the route is very similar to that of the Freedom Racing Hurtwood 50 as we tackle the three hills of Leith hill, Holmbury hill and pitch hill. Unlike Hurtwood though we carried on to Chilworth and back towards the North Downs Way. The final climb on this course takes you up the ‘drain pipe’ path to St Martha’s and then we run along the NDW to Newlands Corner (which was very busy!) and back to Shere.
Over all the day was great with perfect weather, if maybe a little on the warm side. It had been a while since I’d run many of these trails but the memories soon came back. The three ‘peaks’ of Surrey we navigated fairly quickly and easily. Then the more rocky terrain started to slow us a little as we made our way through Paature wood and Hurtwood. We made one small navigation area but otherwise made it round without any issues. Personally I don’t like the section of the NDW after St Martha’s as it’s flat and runable, getting back to this section reminded me its my least favourite part of the route. So it was a bit of a slog back to the finish and then subsequently going down the narrow hill back to the recreation ground was hard going on the tired legs.
Overall we had a great day and it was a lovely little day out ahead of the next race in Bulgaria…
In my search to fill a gap I came across the ‘Mendip Marauder’ which is a 50 mile event along the Mendip Way from Frome to ‘Weston’ (Weston-Super-Mare) organised by the excellent Albion Running. I signed up and planned a weekend getaway to Weston… The organisers arranged for transport from the finish to the start which made the logistics very easy. I’d stay overnight on Friday, get the bus to the start and run back to Weston.
At 6am on the Saturday I was sitting comfortably at the front of the bus with a modest number of other runners. We had about an hours journey and the time passed by quite quickly as I tried to sleep a bit more whilst occasionally chatting with the runners around me as we talked about the races and events we’d done and, joked with the driver, who was getting frustrated at the sensor on the bus that was telling him he was ‘over the white line’ on the country roads (no way he wouldn’t be over the line in a bus!). One of the runners was a chap called Dan whom, unbeknown to us both at the time, I’d spend the whole day with.
Bonnet briefingStartlineInitial fields in Frome
When we arrived, we alighted the bus on quiet side street in Frome where Dave, the race director, was waiting for us. From the bonnet of his Corsa (I think) he preceded to register the runners and hand out race numbers. It made me chuckle as it couldn’t get more lowkey than that. It was super efficient though (who needs a table when a car bonnet will do the job) and he greeted each one of us with humour, telling runners their number was their finishing position (unfortunately for the number 49 runner!). After this we hung around for about an hour until the race briefing. Here Dave continued to entertain and had the 49 runners and few spectators in stitches as he told jokes of the calibre you’d find in a wedding speech. As he said, there wasn’t much to say about the race, and he just kept on cracking jokes for ten minutes (do you know the one about what ‘Love’ in tennis means?) before concluding with “I’ll leave you in silence now until we start”. About a minute later he’d counted us down and set us off on our adventure along the Mendip Way.
We began with a jog up a slight hill and along some fields as made our way onto the East Mendip Way and out of Frome. After the fields the pack of runners started separating as we ran in single file alongside a river which felt enchanted. Really dark, atmospheric woodlands weaved along an old river with stone formations. I loved it, I love that initial feeling of freedom in a race when I run somewhere new to me.
Somewhere along here in the first few kms I caught up with Dan (remember him from the bus…) and we started chatting again. Dan is a local to Weston and this was his second time running the race. Besides being excellent company throughout, he doubled up and played the dutiful tour guide for me for 11 hours. Throughout the day Dan would tell me where we were, where we were going, what we could see, pointed out landmarks in the distance and gave me insights and history for the many points of interest we passed along the Mendip Way. It was brilliant! It was amazing to find out and hear all this information as I otherwise would have had my head down looking at the trails and not really absorbed where I was and the scenery around me! Thanks Dan.
Fields and cowsfields and cornhills (later in the day)
For the first 20 miles or so of the race we followed the follow the East Mendip Way. The trails took us through fields (including a huge corn field) and forests, ascended up onto the Mendip hills and gave us spectacular views of the surrounding area. Like that first few kms, it all felt very old and ancient. It was also super peaceful with hardly anyone about other than the occasional dog walker. The trails where ours for the day! After what felt like no time at all we’d passed through the first aid station (outside the Poacher’s Pocket pub in Shepton Mallet) where we were supported by fabulous volunteers and made our way around the market town. The race markings started to get a bit ‘iffy’ here and we followed one off in the wrong direction. the direction we were heading did not align with the GPX route so we back tracked to the marking we’d followed. Through a hedge I could see another marking in the other direction. I went and adjusted the rogue marking and it had clearly been moved, it was loosely tied on a tree branch and you could see that the tape had previously been tied in a knot (probably on something else). Back on track we followed the route towards Wells.
Wells Cathedral
Wells, despite being small, is a city. As Dan pointed out to me, historically settlements needed to have a Cathedral to gain city status (although this is no longer a requirement). And Wells has a cathedral. We ran down into the city, alongside and around the Bishops Palace and Gardens into the city centre. Here there was a market on and the streets were bustling with activity as we passed through the city walls to the Cathedral. It was, as most Cathedrals are, spectacular with Morris Dancers outside doing their thing. I made a mental note to come back here one day and explore the city. Outside the Cathedral we stopped for a quick photo and then carried on to the next aid station where we had the full service from the volunteers as we were the only runners there. We stuffed our faces before making the short climb back to the trails.
A few kms later we were running by the Wookey Hole which is a series of caves and adventure activities. Dan told me all about them and the legend of the Witch of the Wookey Hole, whom as legend goes was blamed for any and everything that went wrong in the area. The whole area was full of interesting places and next up we ran through Ebbor Gorge and woods with fascinating rock features as we began to climb back up to the Mendip hills and the West Mendip Way. The West Mendip Way is more ‘lumpy’ than the East Mendip Way and the route now had us running up and down along the hills.
After a nice long descent we passed a few runners and made our way to Draycott, Cheddar, the 3rd of the 5 Aid stations along the route. Like the two before this was expertly staffed and incredibly well stocked with a huge range of sweet and savoury options. The volunteers were all fantastic, full of energy and enthusiasm and even tolerated my terrible jokes and humour. We rested a little longer here to make sure we’d eaten plenty and I spent a few minutes taping up some patches on my feet that were feeling a little sore. After I gorged myself on many jam sandwiches and prawn cocktail crisps I set back out and could see Dan ahead of me on one of the biggest climbs of the day.
Climb out of Draycott
From here the route took as along the hills just outside of Cheddar and we passed through Cheddar Gorge and near the famous rock formations. Naturally here it started to get a but busier as we encountered more tourists and walkers out on the trails as we made our way up and down on the Mendip hills. Now the weather was cooler and the sky a little grey and overcast, but up on top of the hills the breeze was very welcomed as it cooled us down in the muggy temperatures. The trails here were beautiful and there were plenty of view points that Dan pointed out to me including Glastonbury Tor way off in the distance and Cheddar Reservoir below us. We were still chatting the whole way about our lives and all things. We had a good ol’ grump about life, challenges and people. We aligned on many things especially people’s inconsiderate and entitled nature. Those ‘bastard people’ we kept saying and chuckling to ourselves. Throughout I was amazed at how calm and happy Dan was. He has such a cool head on his shoulders and positive outlook to dealing with challenges that life throws at you.
ViewsMore viewsEven more views
We dropped off the hills at Shipham and were greeted with the penultimate aid station, where I had the special service of having jam sandwiches tailor made for my liking! The next section was the shortest of the route as we made our way to Webbington. Like much of the course before it though it was very scenic and had plenty of ‘ye olde style’ boundary walls and stiles to climb over. I swear as we progressed these became higher and higher and increasingly more difficult to clamber over (nothing to do with my agility I’m sure!) At the last aid station we were greeted with photographs and the most systematic and organised aid station you could find. Leaving the aid station we made our way across the M5 motorway and started the climb up to Badger Hill, the last of the big climbs on the route. Up top Dan made sure I took a moment to admire the view of Weston and the sea (finish line!) in the distance, but to also turn back and look and appreciate the ‘ridge’ of the Mendip hills we’d run along. He was right, it was great to take a moment and let it all sink in. Even in the cloudy evening, it was a beautiful view back over Somerset.
Final AidstationArriving into Uphill
We continued our journey over the last few km of the Mendip hills from Badger Hill the route was mostly downhill as the track slowly became gravel paths which became tarmac road and eventually the sand as we arrived at Uphill beach and the very modest finish ‘line’ (sign). A small crowd clapped us in and Dave handed us our medals and congratulated us. He offered us both a lift back to the car park where we’d taken the bus from in the morning. We declined though as, with my expert tour guide, I now knew it was quicker to walk the few kms back along the beach to the hotel.
Dan!Another colourful medal
The Mendip Way is absolutely beautiful with incredible views, varied terrain and lovely villages and towns along the way (and many excellent pubs according to Dan!). I really, really enjoyed this run and thought that Dave and Albion Running were bloody fantastic and put on an incredibly well supported event. I’ve got my eye on some of their other events in Somerset now!
The come down from some epic adventures this year has hit me hard. On returning from the Eiger Trail I had 6 weeks before my next event (The Pirin ultra trail in Bulgaria). So I went looking to ‘fill the hole’. I found two events that were reasonably priced, logistically easy to get to by train, on weekends when I had nothing planned and would take me running in places I’d not run before. So I signed up for both. The first being the Big Pilgrimage…
The Big Pilgrimage is run by Big Feat Events. I’d not done one of their races before. There are different distances on offer, but I signed up to the 54k which started in Southampton and finishes at Fort Nelson just outside of Portchester.
The night before the race I stayed over in Southampton. I’d never been to Southampton before. What a shit hole. It makes Swansea look fancy! Glad I now know that I’ve never any need to go to Southampton! The next morning I made the short walk to the start line for 7am and arrived just as the buses were unloading runners who’d parked at the finish and taken the extra option of a bus to the start. Registration was rapid and we were handed our first sticker. Sticker? Yep, the niche thing about this race is that your race number has boxes and you collect stickers along the way to place on your race bib. Each sticker is at one of the points of interest along the route. I quite like that idea and it provides the information to go back and learn a little about where you’d run.
Startline selfie
All stickered up we went to the start line, had our race instructions and then set off. The first few kilometres were all road as we made our way passed the ports for cruise ships and the Isle of Wight ferries and made our way out of Southampton. We crossed over the Itchen bridge (grabbing another sticker) and made our way to the coast.
As we reached the coast we had a short paved section before finally hitting the trails. Not long after two speedy marathon runners ran passed. Geeez they were quick (they started ten minutes after us). From here the trails weaved through woodlands passed Netley Abbey and Victoria park, where Royal Victoria Country Park chapel is, with more stickers added to the bib. A few more marathon runners passed (after a big gap from the front two!) as we passed through more woodlands and made our way back to the coastal path. Before long we were running along a shingle beach. That sapped the energy and tired the legs pretty quickly. It was refreshing though running alongside the water, hearing the calming sounds of the sea. Not many of my runs take me along coastal paths!
Shingle beachthe Sea!
After another few kilometres we reached the first aid station at the river crossing. I’d been expecting and waiting this. Another feature of the race is that you need to cross the river on a boat. Oddly not that niche for me as I’ve had a boat crossing on my first 100 miler – the Tarawera 100 in New Zealand. I also had to get a boat across the fjords in Norway for the start of the Lofoten Arctic Triple. Still it was pretty fun. The organisers had hired the small pink ferries to ship runners across the river Hamble to the other side.
the ferryPink Ferry!bye bye little fella
Once over it was more running along the coastal path. After a few kilometers there was a confusingly placed event marker. I followed another guy up what admittedly I too thought was the right path. As we started climbing a small hill though I sensed we’d gone wrong. There is very little elevation on the route (just 400m total) and pretty much all of it is in the second half, a quarter of the race elevation is in the last 2k to the finish! I checked my watch which confirmed my thoughts. I yelled after the other runner but he was lost in his music. I screamed so loud maybe 5 times and he still didn’t hear. Thankfully he eventually heard me. We made our way back down and stopped a few more runners who’d made the same mistake.
We were then back on shingle beaches for a while. I was leading with a small group of 3 or 4 behind me when there was another suspect marker. I chose the wrong path, but persisted as I could see on my watch that it ran parallel and there were points to rejoin not far ahead. I kept going, then, when I went to rejoin there was a photographer. He said a few others had made the same mistake. I carried on, now on the correct route but noticed I was alone. The others must have stuck to the other path which I could now see didn’t rejoin anywhere else and would turn off in a different direction.
Back on the shingle beach
I soon came out on a water stop at about a half marathon distance and the marshal directed me along a footpath. After a while I was catching some other runners when I realised it was all those who had been behind me. That path must have cut a shortcut on the corner I’d made along the actual route. We were now running alongside the marshes of Titchfield Haven and leaving the coast behind as we headed inland. The next few km to Titchfield Abbey was tough going. So flat and straight. I told myself to keep going to 30k then I can relax the pace a bit. At Titchfield was the next aid station then a few kms of road, crossing the M27 before back into some woodlands and fields for a few km. It all started to blur in my memories but I know I hit that 30km mark and stuck with it and didn’t let up on the pacing too much. I wasn’t feeling too bad, albeit all the running was starting to make my legs ache. I kept going and soon came across a marshal who directed me up a steep hill. Bless, so many people were trying to be helpful and warn of hills etc., but nothing on this route was actually a hill. This one was about 2m high and just a verge to join a footpath. Not long after the ‘hill’ the third aid station appeared. I was glad of some coke and watermelon. Here the ultra and marathon routes separated.
On the ultra route it got a little dull and much harder. We were on a flat footpath that was straight. It was where kilometers come to extend their life. Each km seemed to grow in length. On and on it went. It was exhausting. Thankfully despite a hot sunny day, this was all sheltered in the trees. I kept going though and I only took one short walking break but otherwise ran the whole 8km of the footpath section. When we left it, and had a short incline I was very pleased for the walk. I was now 40km in and ready to do a run/walk to the end. I was optimistic that the change in terrain would force this approach for me.
Never ending flatness
We were now heading back south towards the finish line. There were varying sections of narrow woodland footpaths. Overgrown sections. Open fields and recently ploughed fields. It helped a lot having the variation of terrain. I collected more stickers along the way and passed another water stop where I had a good chat with the volunteers about tattoos. The varying terrain continued and I walked regularly. Since starting the footpath of doom I’d been pretty isolated but I was enjoying the peace on my run. Before I knew it I arrived at the final aid station, on the side of a narrow road with a sole lady tending to our needs. She was lovely and so helpful. Two other runners then showed up and joined me. I stayed a bit longer here eating loads of orange slices as the two others sped on.
After leaving the aidstation it was back onto single track paths and fields as we made our way along the remaining 9km of the race. At one point we had a climb through a field that was actually an incline, it was really taking us uphill! I enjoyed that. We also crossed several fields with cows and electric fences. This part of the run was much more enjoyable (with the exception of the few km of road before the field with the incline). A steady walk/run was seeing me through at a decent average pace just above 6min/km.
Kind of went uphill a little!
As we reach Southwick I caught up with one of the runners who had passed me and another lady whom I had no idea where she came from. It completely threw me before I realised she was on the marathon and the routes had rejoined. After collecting the penultimate sticker the guy politely asked my age. He was wondering about age categories and hoping to podium in his category. Cheeky fucker though, as Nick would say “he’s three days older than God”. I thought he was much older than me and he was pleased to hear I was only 40 and that he could let me go without a fight.
The final ‘ascent’the Finish line
We had about 2 km left now and one last ‘climb’. To be fair, this was a whopping 80m of elevation over a kilometre. I know, punishing. Once I reached it, it was nice to walk pretty much to the end. The climb was diagonal across a recently plough field so the terrain underfoot wasn’t exactly pleasant. After the climb there was a short few hundred metres of dry footpath to go. The tower at Fort Nelson came into view and then behind it the flags of the finish line. At the finish we got our last sticker ‘Fort Nelson’ and a very colourful medal.
Finish!Gotta catch ’em all
I had a great time despite the race being somewhat flatter than I’m now more accustomed to (and enjoy). The flatness certainly made it tough going and my legs were aching afterwards (thankfully no wobbly walk though). The organisers were incredible and have put on a really excellent event. There were so many marshals throughout. I’ll definitely have to try some of their other events!
A few years ago Paul did a solo adventure along the Hardergrat Trail in Switzerland. Ever since he’s been eager to go back with us to do it with him. We started scheming and found the time to form a plan and incorporate another visit to the Eiger Ultra Trail alongside the Hardergrat Trail. Paul, Matt and I did the E101 100km Eiger Ultra Trail back in 2022. Darryl and Natalia wanted to do the race too so it was perfect timing, to combine the Hardergrat with the E51 50km race the following day.
The plan seemed simple enough, fly to Switzerland on the Thursday, Do the Hardergrat Trail on the Friday, do the race on the Saturday and fly home on the Sunday. Efficient, although not the recommended approach for a race and a bunch of early mornings were for sure going to be tiring! We based ourselves out of Interlaken to take advantage of being closer to the Hardergrat Trail and more options for accommodation. We also had one shot at the Hardergrat Trail so were very dependent on the weather/ground conditions, which thankfully, were perfect…
Hardergrat Trail
The Hardergrat is a popular and well known hiking trail that runs along side the Brienzersee lake between Interlaken and Brienz. Although I say hiking trail, I don’t believe it is an official waymarked and maintained Swiss trail. Depending where you read, it is often described as one of the most dangerous hiking trails in the world. Whilst I don’t believe that myself and think there might be some dramatisation (I’ve felt less safe on some other trails I’ve done!), the risk is very real and it is well known that people have fallen, in some cases fatally, from the trail (there are many memorials and crosses along the trail!). It also isn’t for the faint hearted though and can be quite terrifying in parts. So if you are considering it, consider it carefully and plan appropriately!
The Hardergrat Trail (Seen from the other side of the lake)
All that said, we didn’t go into this lightly and had planned it very meticulously. Firstly we had Paul leading the way and he had completed the trail before. So we collectively knew the route and dangerous points and what to expect from first hand experience. Secondly we were only going to start if it was safe to do so. If it was wet, or indeed had been wet in the days leading up to our adventure, or windy, or any risk of the forecast changing unexpectedly for the worst, we wouldn’t be starting. We also planned to begin at 5am. The trial is over 25km long and has close to 3000m of elevation gain in total and finishes high up in the mountains where you either get a train back down, or descend over 1000m by foot. We didn’t want to feel any time pressure so we planned to start the hike from Interlaken up to Harder Kulm as early as possible (note, there is a vernacular that covers the ~1,000m climb to Harder Kulm, but this doesn’t start running till about 9am). We also planned to stop towards the end of the ridge and descend to Planalp and get the train to Brienz from there rather than continue all the way to Brienzer Rothorn. These trains finish around 4-5pm so you need to be ready to reach the end destination in time or face that huge descent on foot back to the lake (also worth noting it was about 40CHF for a single ticket down from Planalp!). Besides all that, the four of us consider ourselves to be well experienced on mountain trails and conditions and look out for one another. So we felt we were suitably prepared…
Our one concern was water. Given it is only really safe to attempt this trail in summer, and it is completely exposed along the top so was was going to be very warm, we wanted to carry as much water as possible, a minimum of 3 litres each. With the Harder Kulm being closed so early in the morning, there is no where along the trail to get water for pretty much the duration of the trail. Around Augstmatthorn I believe you could descend and then retrace back to the trail, but you’d be adding hundreds of metres of elevation and hours to your time, so you only really leave the trail here to start or finish a hike. We’d carry as much as we can and be sensible with the rationing.
We woke at 04:00 when our alarms disturbed our slumber. Had a quick breakfast and made our way outside around 04:30. It was a short run to the vernacular station where the trail to Harder Kulm starts. It is a forest trail winding up narrow switchbacks pretty much the whole way. I popped two Energy Bytes (caffeine sweets) here to help wake me up a bit and give me energy on the climb. It took us about 1 hr and a half to make the climb through the forests to Harder Kulm which was about 800m over 5km. From the restaurant and viewpoint here there is probably about another 300m or so along 2 km through the forest before the mountain ridge becomes visible. On the way, as we stopped and ate some sandwiches, a few others passed us including two brothers from America who we would see at various points as we leapfrogged each other along the trails.
It was beautiful seeing the sunrise through the forest and the morning mist giving way to these epic summits stretching way off into the distance. A long way below to your right, the lake looking like a gigantic hole in the ground. The mountain kept climbing until we reached Augstmatthorn around 14km in at some 2,100m up. Getting here we had our first taste of the ridge and some narrow sections. Many hikers stop at Augstmatthorn and make their way off the ridge. Another hiker we were talking to told us the route becomes much harder and more dangerous after this point (he had hiked it many times himself when he was younger he said). Somewhere along here there were also electric fences to one side of the trail to keep the cattle on the mountain side to the left. I know they are electric as at one point, whilst sitting down and resting, I brushed my arm against it and felt a tingle in my opposite ankle. This amused the others!
We carried on knowing we were a little under half way along the route we’d planned. What lay ahead now was a series of 7 or 8 mountain climbs. Each short (in comparison to what we climbed to Harder Kulm!) but very very steep. Some sections were rocky and had ropes and chains. Some sections had very clearly defined paths, but were right on the ridge and were very narrow underfoot. Some of the climbs were like walls and we scrambled our way up. It was very slow progress and we stopped atop of each summit to sit and enjoy the views and eat food. The views around us were pretty static. The view down and across the lake remained unchanged throughout the hike. The view to the left did change as the valley climbed through a mountain pass alongside the ridge. The view in front however was spectacular. With each summit we climbed, the descent became visible and the ridgeline curved off with a different perspective into the distance. Up and down we went…
It was a long slog as each climb was exhausting and we rationed our water more and more. Unlike when running in a race with aid stations, I was taking small sips to ensure I saved the water and had plenty for later on. Each big climb though would quickly empty a bottle. I played a strange game with myself where I was committing to not finishing a bottle before some point I picked in the distance. This felt counterintuitive but, the longer we progressed, the less water we had and the more it become problematic. One by one we were calling out just how many bottles we had remaining and the numbers were dropping quickly!
It’s hard to say for certain which memories and pictures correspond to which peak on the ridge. I do recall though that we passed plenty of hikers along the way, many doing it in reverse having taken the train up from Brienze and hiking back towards Augstmatthorn. One couple were lovely to chat with and I had a great conversation with the lady about the vibrant wild flowers all along the ridge. She told me to “take as many as I could and keep them in my heart”. I thought this was a beautiful sentiment. I also recall one particularly difficult descent which required scrambling down on all fours. For much of the ridge I kept my poles tied away in my pack and relied more heavily on my hands and having more points of contact with the ground.
Towards the end, the ridgeline was far narrower which caused the legs to feel more wobbly despite the clear and flat footpath we were following. Way off in the distance though we could see the Hotel Rother Kulm / Brienzer Rothorn Station which is the true end of the route. We weren’t going the whole way here but instead would escape down the side of the mountain and get on the train at another station at Planalp. For us, continuing to Brienzer Rothorn wouldn’t add much to our experience other than making it more dangerous – it would be quite a few more kms and probably two more hours or so, which we weren’t able to accommodate with water to sustain us. It wasn’t the timings that concerned us, but carrying enough water!
As we neared the trail junction where we could begin descending off the mountain we were all pretty much out of water. By now we’d ‘adopted’ the Americans who had made great progress but ultimately weren’t prepared for their adventure (think lack of training and deciding to do the hike whilst on a family holiday) so together we all descended. Even the downhill was tough going as our legs were now tired and our throats dry. We had about 600m of elevation to drop and about 4kms to go. In the distance we spied a water trough, however when we got closer it was a static one without a tap filling it up. We carried on. Paul had disappeared into the distance and Matt was somewhere between us and Paul. Thankfully after about 3km and 500m of descent we caught up with Matt at another trough that did have a fresh water supply. We stopped and drank about a litre each and refilled our bottles. A few hundred metres further on we all felt the groans of our stomach as the sudden intake of water and bouncing movements unsettled us!
Eventually we made it down to the Planalps station where Paul was nowhere to be seen. He’d mentioned there was a restaurant at the station which we couldn’t see. We soon found it further down the road with Paul sitting happily in the garden waiting for us and a cold panache! We stocked up on drinks of all kinds whilst we waited 45 mins for the next train (which we just squeezed onto) down to Brienz. Here we headed straight to the lake for a lovely cold dip to relax before making our way back to Interlaken. What an adventure! Now time for the Eiger Ultra Trail…
Eiger Ultra Trail E51
After a restless sleep and another an early wake up call we made our way to the station at Interlaken Oost to get the first train to Grindelwald along with a load of other runners. The train was quick and easy and we arrived 20 mins before the race started. We made the dash to the registration centre in the sports centre (we’d taken advantage of the opportunity to request registration on the morning of the race to save another trip to Grindelwald on the Friday!). The ice rink in the basement of the sports centre was gone and it wasn’t cold this year as we waited in the short line, collected our race numbers and dropped our bags off before making the way back to the start line. There were only 5 minutes to go before the race started so we settled into the back of our wave 1 start and then gently ran the 2km or so to the trails. We had maybe 10 runners around / behind us for those first few kms. As we got to the trail there was a big bottle neck as we queued to cross the river. We waited a few minutes at a stand still before we made it through.
Startline
Shortly after we began the first climb to Gr Scheidegg, the memories from the E101 a few years ago started to come back to me as we wound our way slowly up the switch backs. Last time we did this in the darkness so it was refreshing this time that I could see the trails and experience them, and the views, around me. We steadily climbed and enjoyed the short break after about 6km where the trail levelled out and we ran the undulating trails before the remaining climb to the first aid station. As we arrived, it was just as I remembered – a narrow set up that doesn’t really accommodate space for the runners. Navigating through the checkpoint in single file we grabbed some snacks and water and waited out the other side. We spent a while here eating and drinking and enjoying the early morning views of the Eiger before carrying on. I popped another Energy Byte to give me a kick and wake me up a bit.
Early views from the first aid station
From here to the next aid station, at First, was great. It is a short section of about 6km that has some runnable trails and gentle descents and climbs. All along it are panoramic views of the mountains surrounding the Eiger. The Eiger itself was standing magnificently proud in the cloud cover across the valley. Towards the end of the section we began the long, but gentle, slow ascent to the viewpoint and aid station. As we reached the top, the route markings took us across the trail and towards the viewpoint and the walking platform. This was Natalia’s first time experiencing such a long and exposed platform so we slowly walked along it to the sanctuary of the aid station, after getting some pictures of course! At the aid station I had my own party as I sat and ate loads whilst singing to the 90s pop anthems blaring out. Even though we’d only done less than 15km I tucked into the soups and bouillon available (it’s a popular feed station on the E101 route!). Eventually though we had to carry on.
I remembered the next section as we left First and made our way towards Feld. The trails were similar to before and led us towards some amazing lakes of Bachalpsee, naturally as we ran around the lakes the views were incredible. It really is a beautiful place. I pointed out Faulhorn to Natalia, the highest point in the race way off in the distance, a tiny speck on the mountain. Along here we met some other British runners who were part of a group running from Wild Trail Manchester, the group I spent a lot of time running in London with. After the lakes we encountered a small amount of snow on the trail which made it slippery, so we climbed slowly and carefully. Some smart arse behind us tried to rush past us and slipped in the mud and slid back down the hill. Not sure what he was trying to gain. He didn’t try to go past again.
Lakes at Bachalpsee
I knew the next section was quite rocky and technical (It’s even marked as such with ‘danger’ signs from the organisation). That much I could remember. I told Natalia to go slowly as it was rocky and now wet and slippery too. As we progressed we found ourselves near a lady who was clearly uncomfortable on the technical terrain. Knowing it was a short section I told her not to worry and to go at her own pace safely and we’d all follow behind. We stuck with her. Naturally a queue formed as we slowly progressed along the single track. After a while some prick behind us made a comment “it’s called trail running not trail walking”. I couldn’t hold my tongue. My usual polite and refrained manner was overcome and I snapped back to tell him that clearly there are runners who are not comfortable and that their safety is important. I told them that if they wanted too they could find an alternative route past and if they were such good trail runners then they wouldn’t be way back here in the race with us ‘trail walkers’ after 20km. No one said anything. No one tried to get past us. Go figure. It wasn’t long after that the technical trails gave way and the ground became more firm. The lady kindly stepped aside for people to pass her. We went past and started running. A few moments later I looked back, no one was keeping up with us. Says it all. Sometime later, on the next section after the aid station, we past the guy who made the comment as he was sitting on the side of the mountain on the next climb, clearly knackered. I was tempted to make a sarcastic comment then…
Anyway… After a short stop at the next aid station, Feld, we started the climb to Faulhorn. Before the race I couldn’t remember this climb. As soon as I saw it though I remembered. Like years before it was a warm day so a very hot and exposed climb. It is steep and slow going, a snake of runners slowly dragging themselves up to the top. In the sun it felt like it went on for ever. All the way up you can see the restaurant at Faulhorn, sitting way up high and ever so slowly getting closer and more in view. We kept pushing without stopping and made our way over the saddle and onto the last short climb to the restaurant were the trail takes you around to the back/top of Faulhorn. We stopped for a picture by the archway then joined the queue of runners waiting to get in and fill our water. Like many of the aid stations it is a tight fit (although this one on top of the mountain is justifiable with its limited space). I had a few cups of Coke that had been expertly whisked to a flat state by the willing volunteer. It was so refreshing in the heat.
With the Hardergrat in the distance!Hardegrat Trail
We began descending and all the memories I was so sure of started appearing to have holes, giant black holes. As we left Faulhorn I was chatting to another British lady and I told her it was all nice runnable trails from here. It isn’t. I’d completely forgotten about the next section. First there is a short, sharp descent down from the summit. Then you make your way over rocky ground before the real descent began. This one is long and very rocky. There were a few short snow field crossings thrown in the mix too. As you make your way down you are descending on lots of large steep steps in the rocks, then further down we went, past the restaurant, on trails covered by snow burying the rocks beneath. I slid down on my bum as my shoes had no grip (I was very aware that they are now excessively worn but I thought would be ‘fine for the lovely runnable trails’ I falsely remembered!). Like the climb before it, the descent felt like it went on forever. As the trails started to re-emerge my head started piecing together the memories better as we made our way up a little incline to the water stop that is ‘Egg’.
It was actually this next section from Egg to Schwand that I recalled the best. My memories just made me believe the whole section from Faulhorn was like this. There are some lovely trails for the most part as you ran along the exposed mountain tops. Lots of tourists and walkers out enjoying the hike from Schwand to Faulhorn in he opposite direction. The mountains are exposed and you have these Epic views over the valley to the Eiger on the other side. Way off in the distance you can see another mountain restaurant perched on the side of the mountain. Below it, somewhere, the next aid station. It was a long way to go by sight, but not that long now you can move more quickly with the even terrain underfoot. We made a quick stop in some shade to apply more sun cream as it was getting pretty hot now.
Before getting to the end of the path, there was the ladder/step climb I’d completely forgotten about too. I piggy-backed on to a group of runners half way up and thanked the hikers waiting patiently to come down. After this it was a gentle hike up before we eventually reached the turning point where the downhill started. Pretty much from here it was all down hill to the final aid station. First we descended on lots of switchback trails to the aid station ‘Schwand’ though. This I remembered quite well as two years earlier Paul and I had stopped at a trough and desperately filed our bottles and relaxed, only to then see the aid station a few hundred meters further along. I recognised the trough (now covered up!) and pointed out the aid station to Natalia. We were ready for a break from the sun.
On the way to Schwand
After a little break in the shade and a ‘little douche’ from a volunteer with a hose pipe we departed. The trails led downhill into the forest. It was more technical than I remembered with roots causing the descent to be painful on my now very tired quads and ankles. The ground below was very spongy between the roots. This year I was prepared knowing that there was a sizeable climb during the descent. This caught us out back in 2022. It started in the forest then took us up as we crossed over a waterfall and then climbed further through a hamlet. I didn’t recognise the hamlet and it turns out that we went a slightly different route this time and climbed further. See, not all my memories are wrong! Eventually it was back into the forest as we began descending again and continued down towards the valley. We spent most of the descent in a train of people slowly making their way down gingerly. At some point the single tracks opened and we squeezed passed the group and were able to run at our pace. As the trail became switchback roads Natalia opened up and sped ahead. I couldn’t keep up. We could then smell (literally) the final aid station. We ran passed so many people in the short field as we ran down and into Berglauen. We took a few mins to refuel, deciding against the potatoes on offer, then set off. The final 7km to go back to Grindelwald.
As final 7kms of races go this is ace. It’s pretty much flat the whole way following the river back to Grindelwald. Over the 7km there is 225m of ascent and 100m of descent. Mostly this is grouped into three ‘climbs’ towards the end as you near the town. We ran/walked the whole way passing many runners as we jogged along the river. We then passed through a small village with incredible wood carvings (I now wish I stopped to take a picture!) and welcoming signs before crossing the river and running through the train station and over the train tracks for the Eiger glacier train (which we had to wait for and got a huge thumbs up from the driver). From here it was almost the final stretch as we stated to climb into the town and along the footpath to the point where the E101 joins from the opposite direction and we make our way up the final climb into the town. Its a short steep climb on paved road which everyone climbed so slowly. Once done, it was over! We we ran the few hundred metres down the town to claps and cheers from both sides of the road, round the final turn into the finish line area and down the familiar steep ramp to the finish line.
with our piece of the Eiger
Just like that it was over. We quickly escaped the busy finish area and went to collect our bags, change into fresh clothes, before meeting up with the others and making our way to the train back to Interlaken. It felt like a very long day by the time we had food and made our way back to the accommodation!
What a weekend! The Hardergrat was an incredible experience and it was special to see the mountains around Grindelwald again and share the race with Natalia. I don’t remember the race being as difficult as it was (and I won’t blame the run the day before!), it was certainly more technical than I remembered. We all agreed we wouldn’t want to do the 100k after experiencing the 50 nor could we believe that we’d done it previously!
Oh how we’d been looking forward to this one. Many, many years ago I had a short trip in Bosnia when I was travelling around the Balkans with friends. We took a few days to travel to Bosnia and visited Mostar. It was stunning and I’ve been wanting to go back and visit Sarajevo ever since. When I came across a 105km ultra trail race near Sarajevo, I knew I’d sign up and that Paul, Darryl and Matt would come too.
After a few logistical mishaps leading up to the summer we flew in to Sarajevo the day before the race. On Friday we made the short journey into ‘town’ from where we were staying and did a bit of sightseeing. As we made our way back to the accommodation chaos descended on the town when a major power cut (affecting much of the Balkan region!) hit. We spent the next few hours in the increasingly hot accommodation, preparing for the race that would start at 10pm whilst wondering if it would go ahead – with no power surely the event was a safety risk. Alas, a few hours later power was restored and we were on our way.
On the way to Javorov do, Bjelašnica, where the race would start and finish, we stopped off for food at a lovely restaurant Lisa had found. They weren’t too impressed when we turned up in full running kit but reluctantly let us in. With full bellies we then continued to the start line to register. Bjelašnica might be familiar to some as this is where some of the events of the winter Olympics of 1986 were held. Now the surrounding area has many new and modern ski resorts set up.
The Vucko ‘Black’ trail starts high up in in the mountain resort Jorovano Do which is about 1,250m up in the mountains. The Black trail starts at 10pm and we arrived just before 9pm to register, have our kit checked and attend the technical race briefing. The race briefing was very thorough and detailed as every section of the race was talked-through. We chuckled when we were told to watch out for bears, snakes and other animals. After the race briefing we made our way outside to the start line along with 40 something other runners. We had our full mandatory kit checked and soaked up the atmosphere where many supporters lined the starting arch to send us off.
10pm start line at Javorov do
It was an excellent start line and we ran off onto the trail, quickly hitting a climb in the forest. The trail gradually became steeper as the single track led us away from the start line. The soft soil led us up and we crossed a road where loads of people cheered from their cars as they waited for us to pass across the road where we went straight back onto the forest trails. The smells were fresh. The ever so familiar feeling of calm washed over me. I love this feeling at the start of a race for the first few kms where all my anxiety and stresses flow out of me and the excitement of what is to come replaces them. My kind of freedom!
The clarity of the full moon at night
The night was warm. Very warm. Sarajevo was experiencing higher than normal temperatures and there were reports of high 30s being reached during the day. We weren’t going to be cold, that we knew for sure. Even as we climbed higher the temperature was warm and the air was still. The path led higher and we emerged from the forest onto trails that skirted along the side of the mountains. They were rocky underfoot and had a slight camber. Above us, dominating the night sky, was a full moon glowing orange. The night was hazy and light and I imagined having no head torch that I’d still be able to see enough. The night sky made beautiful silhouettes of the surrounding mountains which were visible. The mountain trails took us off the path, descending and ascending the undulating trails in a most direct fashion. Beneath us the gravel tracks gave way to lumpy grass and big rocks to skip along.
We passed through the first two aid stations, in what felt like no time. The first was a simple tent in the middle of nowhere after a steep and slightly technical descent. From which the mountain paths continued as we reached the second aid station which was at Lukomir, Bosnia and Herzegovina’s highest populated village at almost 1,500m. As villages go it is very small, just a tiny settlement of old stone houses and I believe a small number of families living there. At the aid station we talked and joked with the volunteers and tried all the food combinations they offered which it seems other runners weren’t interested in (Chocolate spread on bananas was a firm favourite for the boys). We then set off with strong vibes and encouragement to ‘enjoy Herzegovina’. That I was sure we would do!
Ready for the refreshments at Lukomirsome how looking demented just 20km in
The trails into Herzegovina where rocky and undulating. More skirting around the side of steep mountains and the vast emptiness as we traversed along the top of them. With the warmness and stillness of the night, we were sweating a lot and my shorts were soaked through. By now we were mostly alone though. At some point Darryl had quite an ingenious idea to combat the wet clammy buttocks that we were experiencing – just pull your pants down. So we did. For short bursts we ran with our ass cheeks out, bare to the world. Now it was a night of many full moons! Wow it was refreshing though. I’m not sure how in all the running I’ve done I haven’t thought to do this sooner. The dry air evaporated the sweat and our bums felt free and liberated. It may not have been pretty but it sure was effective. This was going to combat any chaffing for sure. Thankfully no one came running up behind us in the night!
Out in the wildness of the mountains we found ourselves on a slightly more rocky section here as we descended then climbed again. After which we found ourselves near Ivana, A runner from Croatia we’d shared some kms with earlier in the night. She was nuts, in a good way. She was so full of good energy and vibes, happy to talk and laugh her way along the course with complete freedom. We stuck around her for as long as we could keep pace through the night. At one point her scream of “Fuck you Paul Martin!” had us laughing as something was misinterpreted.
Daybreak over Dubočani
Somewhere on a decent, the calm night gave way to the freshness of morning and darkness started to recede. We arrived at a small aid station on the side of the road that was Dubočani. We tucked into some warm some soup for breakfast. We needed it. At 05:00 the sun was already breaking through. We could have stayed here a while if only it wasn’t for the amount of flies buzzing around. Little did we know they’d soon become the most irritating thing about this race. We swatted them away whilst we devoured the soup and then finished the descent down towards the river crossing where we would make our way to the other side of the Rakitnica River.
We were excited for this. From what we’d heard, and from the pictures we’d seen, it seemed like quite a wide crossing. Last year, with high levels of water, the crossing was relocated. This year we were fine though. We were ready to wash off and cool down. When we did reach the river it was surreal. So beautiful with a morning mist layer covering the crystal clear water. It was however absolutely freezing. We were contemplating a full on bath, but just after 05:00 it was just a little too cold for us to commit. So instead we went up to our thighs and washed our faces, hair, arms and legs and decided against that sit down wash! A scream from above drew our attention as we looked up to see Ivana high up on the climb out of Dubočani, we waved at her and enjoyed a few more minutes before making our way across and starting the big ascent of the route. We had about 900m to climb in one go and then another 300m or so further on.
Rakitnica RiverCrossing the River
The climb started off wet and muddy, steeply climbing through the forest before we broke free onto some dirt tracks leading to a small village. Sheep dogs were barking, protecting their herds as we neared the farms. We then zig-zagged our way up as the terrain became steeper and more rocky. It was a slow climb, which was annoying as the flies were loving us. They were so irritating. Many of them bashing into our heads, flying into our ears and in Matt’s case tens of them enjoying a free ride on his head/hat. We tried to mask our sweaty smells with sun cream, which worked if only for a short while. Despite this, the climb and early morning gave us the first real glimpse of the incredible environment we were in. The silhouetted mountains now showing in all their glory. Layer after layer for as far as the eye could see. It was quite a sight! We even saw a snake!
Rocky ClimbMorning ViewsSnake!
Eventually the climb levelled out a bit and we found ourselves on a long dirt track with a very gradual climb, the start of the 300m section. We had no interest in running this, as runnable as it was. We knew that we were close to the next aid station now – Grušča polje – and here we’d have our transition bags.
At just short of halfway, here we were greeted by the aid station in a small building. We were so glad to be able to go inside and escape from the heat (yes at 7am!) and the flies. We sat down and loads of friendly volunteers started helping us as we ate and changed our clothes. We talked with them about the route and experience so far and showed the picture of the snake we saw. Consensus seemed to be a viper (can’t recall what they said) but not one of the venomous ones or something to be concerned about. A viper though, that’s exciting! We were served big pasta dishes with lumps of tender meat and noodle soups. There was so much food and drink. Darryl even had some medical support for his feet. I dried mine off, re-taped them and applied fresh socks and dry shoes. It was bliss after the soaking at the river crossing, so glad I had a spare pair of shoes.
We spent a long time here and many runners came and went. We weren’t bothered though. We were so far ahead of the schedule we expected. Eventually we did leave though and began a long walk as we re-joined the dirt track with its gentle climb through the villages. Now we had about 15km to go to reach Puzimsko groblje.
The gravel tracks soon disappeared as we reached the highest point on this section and we went off track again. It was grassy, it was open. We passed through a section with stone circles where we took a rest and saw a hiking group in the distance. We were weaving around the high mountains, along the basins and up through a saddle. We started descending again and it was a little tricky underfoot as there were more rocks and we weaved our way down and into the valley below. Much of this section followed the same – off track, lumpy grassland scattered with rocks. Weaving around and through mountain passes. It was beautiful but tough. This was the longest section and there was little variation and no shelter from the increasingly brighter sun. Our focus was to just get through it as we’d then be around 60k in, a decent milestone.
There was a small road crossing and a very twisty section where I powered ahead. Every time we thought it would be nearing an end we’d see flags/markers way off in the distance. We’d reform together and crack on then over time spread out a little. We’d been moving for over 12 hours now and we were feeling it.
We skirted a rocky section around a mountain that had plenty of loose scree underfoot and we could then see the aid station up in a verge/layby in the distance. When we eventually reached it we all collapsed into the seats and started stuffing our faces with watermelon. The watermelon out here was so fresh and juicy! We felt that. That section, being the longest, with naff all shade and increasingly warmer temperatures of the morning drained us and we all looked exhausted. Copious amounts of Coke and watermelon were consumed. We needed the break but probably spent too long here. Loads of runners came through and they all hardly stopped and left quickly. We were the only ones that hung around. Not that it bothered us, we were enjoying it.
After sitting down and leaving the aid station I decided to check my phone signal and my emails and messages. I’m in the process of trying to sell and buy a house and over the course of the morning I had received an offer through that met my expectations. My brain snapped into focus. The run became my second priority and as we left the aid station I was head down in my phone pinging off emails to different estate agents and telling them “I’m up a mountain in Bosnia!!”. It was stressful but I was buzzing. A wake up call that gave me energy.
Once I was done I put the phone away and chased after the others whom I’d told I’d catch up. It was surprisingly muddy and there were lots of little trip hazards as we ran through a forest section. No wonder I was all over the place when I wasn’t looking at anything other than my phone. I caught them up just as we came across a weird little climb that diverted us around a fence to re-join the path through a long grass area. We’d seen pictures of this as the organisers had ‘cut’ a path out through the grass. We tried to move with more pace but it was so damn hot now that our pace and effort didn’t make a damn bit of difference.
This was a slightly shorter section but it still took us ages. Almost 3 hours to cover less than 8km. I can’t remember much else as my mind was distracted. But here Matt started to really feel the heat. There were some smallish climbs in the forest and they just zapped his energy making it very slow going. Darryl was sticking alongside with him and managing regular rest breaks, Paul was pulling us up, setting the pace. Team work. The goal now was the aid station at Bobovica. Get to this aid station and rest again before tackling the big section with the ridge lines. Matt was a little worried about the next section due to the heat but stuck with it. Into the aid station we went. Darryl and Paul had a little lay down. Me and Matt tried to eat and drink as much as we could as we talked with the volunteers and got more info about what lay ahead. It was going to be long. Another runner on our race arrived into the aid station after completing this section (it’s a loop back to here via a different path). He said it took him 4-5 hours. So it was going to take us a lot longer. Matt was rejuvenated though knowing the total elevation was broken up slightly and that there was now an extra water stop before the descent – about 6.5k in.
managing the climbs
As we set out and started the climb there were two other runners from the red course (66k) who set out just before us. We followed them slowly as the climb led us into the shade of the forest. We played leap frog with them for the whole climb. They were up against a different time limit on their race and knew they wouldn’t make it, but were going to finish the section anyway. We were just exhausted. We all took breaks fairly regularly, to stop and manage the heat the best we could as we climbed through the forest which was steep and hot with more flies. Eurgh. We made slow but steady progress as it wasn’t too bad in the shelter of the forest but that wouldn’t last. We left the trees behind and continued up on the increasingly steeper and rockier paths. There was a short sharp climb that opened onto the side of the ridge line. We sat and enjoyed the spectacular views. I was with Matt and he desperately needed some shade. But there wasn’t any. We carried on up where we found Paul and Darryl spread out on the summit. What a place to lay down and relax. It was just missing the shade. The view showed us everything that lay ahead. A horseshoe of ridgelines with maybe 4 or 5 summits we’d navigate along the way around too the other side of the valley. Somewhere over there we’d descend. Somewhere…
Ridge!Incredible views
We carried on with trepidation. Up close though the footpaths were clear and solid. Nothing to worry about here. Despite the heat it wasn’t so bad either as there was a glorious wind to keep us cool. For the next hour or so we traced forward, following the dots in the distance that were the other two runners. After the biggest climb on the ridge we all got momentarily angry. We thought the water would be here. We’d been climbing for about 2 hours and drinking like there was no tomorrow. We were worried the water station had left without us. Surely not. Thankfully it was just our minds and fears. In the distance, at the end of the horseshoe we could see the structure of a bivouac shelter and people. This drove us forward as we enjoyed a nice descent on the mountain side down to where the water actually was. Somehow this whole section was only 6.5 km but had taken us over 3 hours.
With the ridge attacked, overcome and the spectacular views enjoyed, we stopped here too for a little while with Matt resting in the shade of the shelter. We refilled our water and talked and joked with the other runners and volunteers. We could have stayed here happily for hours. The view really was really something special. Alas, we clambered to our feet and all set off together, there was a long way to go back to the aid station to finish the loop.
As we set off it was mostly downhill, we had climbed a long way after all. We had about 900m to descend in total and the route set off steeply. It went straight down the side of the mountain then onto some switchbacks as we headed for a lush green ‘lump’ on the mountain side. Over it we went and further down as we started weaving towards the forest. It was here that I started to fade. I had to call a time out and sit in the shade because I was so hungry. I’d not eaten for the whole section, probably for over 4 hours by now, and hadn’t been managing my fuelling at all. I think I was fine but just hadn’t fully considered how long the ridge would take. I devoured a chocolate/nut bar and we set off again before all the flies swarming us bit us to pieces.
The forests here were incredibly dense and the smells sensational. All sorts of fauna combining to give the forest its scent. It was a completely new experience on this run with much of the route being exposed to suddenly be in what looked like a tropical rainforest. We enjoyed it. After some time, with lots of little climbs and further descents in between, we clambered across a boulder field. I hated that stuff. My feet were aching now and every boulder caused my feet to move in awkward positions and rub more and more. I was glad to traverse it and get to the other side!
Dense forests
Even after the boulder field the route seemed to continue on more and more. We were still weaving and winding around the mountain we’d descended for so long. After what felt an age we did eventually get back to the aid station almost 6.5 hrs after our first visit. That was a long section. We took soup and prepared our head torches for the next part as it would now be dark. Paul did his duty and gave Matt a good talking to, ensuring his mind was set for what was to come. He was ready. We estimated another 6 hours before we’d finish, a long way to go but gladly broken up into 3 sections. We said good bye to the other two runners and set off.
We now had 3 sections all about 7km or so in length, so a little more than half marathon remaining and the bulk of the elevation was done now. We’d always said we would get to the 70km mark and know when we’d finish. That momentarily lifted our spirits. The first section was mostly down hill and rocky. It was tough on my now very sore feet as we left the aid station off track down some steep and uneven paths to the river. The darkness set in very, very quickly as we bushwhacked our way along the path, following the sound of the water. After a short while we had the suspension bridge crossing which was… interesting. To get on it we had to climb some largely spaced ladder rungs and then make our way across some wobbly planks which weren’t connected to the guide ropes we held on to. It made for a mini test and adventure for our tired legs!
The trails were largely off track on this section. A few climbs and descents later we emerged from the darkness above a village with street lights glowing in the darkness. It was very loud here and we assumed we were at the aid station. Only it wasn’t and instead there were a group of guys partying loudly at 1:30. Music pumping and screaming and shouting. Darryl was adopted by them and almost lost to their party. I think they even offered him a lift home if he stayed and drank with them. We climbed up a road, leaving the village, and almost Darryl, behind. Then we saw the aid station.
Another aid station stop and another round of soup for everyone. Despite being the last runners, they were keen to put the kettle to use and get us warm drinks! The night was cooler than the night before and we took the moment to layer up as we left. This ‘second’ section felt long and hard. It started with a descent and climb in the darkness. Then our tired minds played tricks with us using the squished route profile on our bib numbers. We’d interpreted the section appeared to be flatter than it was. Only all around us were mountains. We were very close to where we’d run some 90 km and over 24 hours earlier – in the valleys, off track running along lumpy grassy areas. The terrain felt all to familiar but there didn’t feel like there was anyway out with out climbing! The feint glimmer of reflective trail markings confirmed this as they seemingly lead us upwards, climbing to the heavens. We had no choice but to follow. We did however have a choice to vocalise our dissatisfaction and confusion and we chose to moan like hell. Thankfully by now Matt was seemingly well recovered from the heat exhaustion of the day. The cooler night had certainly made things easier. But we were all tired, all so very tired. More times than I can remember we curled up on the floor and turned our head torches off to try and sleep. Sometimes we did, mostly we didn’t, every time we complained about the flies! It was very stop start as we slowly navigated to that last aid station.
From here we knew we just had 7km left to go. We were glad it was one of the shorter sections and not a race with a large section at the end. I was struggling though. The tiredness had gripped me hard. We continued what remained of a short climb before descending. Each step causing me to curse with the pressure on my sore feet. After the descent we found ourselves crossing the open mountain side, a gentle camber underfoot, Even in the darkness it was breath-taking. Looking down it only got darker and darker like an abyss. I remember thinking about the grass beneath our feet was that was wet with dew. It felt so different to the previous night.
After sometime, lights up ahead caught our attention, and then the sound of people. We were at a road crossing and volunteers cheered us in. 3km to go they told us (it felt like it should be more and it was indeed slightly more). From the road we descended sharply in the forests. The guys were spurred on, but I couldn’t keep up. The steepness and loose soil aggravating my feet. I called after them to slow down. It felt like the same forest paths we ran through as soon as we started way back on Friday night. It was close but, not the exact same paths. We had multiple conversations about the paths and debated whether we were retracing our steps.
After the descent we broke out onto a gravel track road. We had to climb again. Not far or high, and at a very respectable gradient, but our pace slowed. It felt like an eternity as we trudged onwards. I was hallucinating now. I remember asking Darryl if he “wants lemon with that” (seems that I was dreaming that I was working in a bar) and telling Matt to “Put the kettle on”. Darryl stayed with me, trying to keep me talking and awake as we plodded on. I probably spent more time walking side to side than walking forward!
Finally after the road and a further km or 2 through the forests we saw the lights of the finish line. The guys huddled up and we crossed that line together to the raucous cheers of a few volunteers who remained and clapped us in, telling us they’d been waiting for us and that we’d missed the party! We were indeed the final finishers. Lisa was there too, to look after us and drive us home. We sat for 10 mins and chatted with the organisers. 10 minutes later I was fast asleep in the back of the car. In 3 hours time we’d be awake and heading to the airport to go home.
We thoroughly enjoyed this event. It was tough, probably more so than we expected given the heat, but beautiful. The mountains and the route are incredible and the organisation of the event was spot on. Highly recommend this is added to your ultra trail bucket list!
The Hampshire Hoppit is a marathon (and half and 10km distances) event in its 9th (as of 2024) iteration. I think I saw it advertised on Facebook and thought “I’ll have a bit of that”. Even though it’s a week before one of the more daunting events I’ll run in 2024, I roped some mates in and signed up…
We made the drive over in the morning and arrived at the start line with about 15 mins to spare. The event seemed a little larger than I expected (a very detailed 25 page pre-race document containing all the race information was the first sign that this wasn’t a small event!) and there were loads of people gathered around the tents at the start line (which was beautifully located on the side of a hill). We registered, repacked our bags and began attaching our bib numbers as the race director wished everyone well and stated the race.
The group of 300 or so runners slowly crossed the line as Carl and I hurried Nick along as he thumbed about with his race number. We joked with a lady before we crossed the line as she flashed her ‘last runner’ vest and told us she can’t start until we do. Finally Nick got his shit together and we crossed the start line.
Back with the pack
The main group of runners were plodding along at a very conservative pace and we caught up with the pack after a few hundred metres as we began the gentle climb away from the start. We proceeded to make our way up the field slowly as we passed the first photographer of the day. Up ahead we could see the lead runners disappearing in the distance. As we chatted away, the time passed by so quickly. Before we knew it we’d done 10 miles, then half a marathon and then passed the 20 mile marker. The race was over so quickly.
From start to finish our adventure was uneventful (thankfully!). We ran together and chatted the whole way without problems. Towards the end Nick got struck by a case of cramp in the hamstring which almost immobilised him, but otherwise we made great progress and finished in about 5 hours, which was quicker than planned.
Wide paths
The route was delightful with amazing rolling hills and green fields. We joked that the fields here felt posher than those back home! If it’s possible for a field to be posh?! There were plenty of single tracks through forests, wider trails through ploughed fields and the occasional short road section. Despite the heavy rain the day before the ground was solid and a joy to run on. Towards the end of the race we briefly ran a narrow path alongside a river and had to run through a deep puddle in the last mile. We groaned at having wet feet so late in the race.
Sun and smiles
The aid stations were numerous (alternating between water only and water with snacks) albeit basic, and there were an abundance of volunteers marshalling along the whole course. They were almost at every turn and intersection cheering us on and directing us. Road crossings were also manned with highway maintenance stopping traffic to allow runners to pass. It was very well organised and everyone was so friendly and helpful. I remember joking with one volunteer in the last km on our way up the final climb as I asked her why she was laughing and she said back “because you three have been jabbering away the whole time”. She wasn’t wrong!
Down to the finish
As we crossed the finish line (which is back where we started – its a looped course) we were greeted by volunteers who gave us our medals and a finishers pint glass. We also got a ‘goody bag’ with crisps, sweets, chocolate, popcorn, a coaster and a pen with the race logo on it. There was a finishers tent too where we could use our pint glass to get free beer! I think it is fair to say you get your monies worth with this one! We sat down and enjoyed the views from the side of the hill as we regained our energy.
Overall, what a great event. Low-key and all about the local community and runners. The trails are beautiful out in Hampshire.
Istria100, a 100mile course on the Istrian peninsula in north west Croatia. A race I heard about shortly after I got into trail running and which peaked my curiosity. There are several distances on offer as part of the event, but it was only the 100 mile race that I wanted to do. I’d contemplated the race a few times in previous years but it seemed to never work out with other plans. Thankfully Matt was keen to do a 100 mile event in 2024 and liked the sound of Istria, so we signed up.
Leading up to the race I was starting to feel more confident and optimistic. My persistent leg injury seemed to be under control (probably thanks to the Physio I’d been seeing and being more consistent with some rehab and strengthening!). Running Letecka Stovka a few weeks earlier was a huge confidence boost and the planning for Istria was complete, so all was good. Then, a week before the race I rolled my ankle (on the other leg – the one I broke back in UTMB 2022!) badly at the end of a simple run just as I was approaching home. It hurt like hell at the time and continued to ache for the rest of the day. It wasn’t one of those ‘it hurts but is instantly fine a few moments later’ kind of rolls. So the injury anxiety and worries came back along with the constant ice pack. Trying a run a few days later it was still achy and although I was concerned, I wasn’t going to stop now. I’d do the usual hope for the best and ‘deal with it later’.
I met Matt at Venice airport and we drove over to Umag in Croatia by passing through Slovenia. Thankfully for me Matt is super organised and had sorted all the race logistics. We were staying in a hotel affiliated to the event in Umag not far from the finish line. The hotel also had a regular shuttle bus to the sports hall (where bib collection and drop bags would be) and would also be the venue for the post race meal for runners. We’d planned to be running for over 35 hours so made two separate bookings for just the night before the race and the night after. Trying to be smart and not pay for accommodation for the two nights we’d be running through. Given the time of our flights landing, we didn’t make it to Umag in time to collect the bib the night before the race, so we checked in to the hotel and went for food and then straight to sleep.
Registered and ready
The next morning we checked out and used the shuttle service to go collect our bibs before returning to the hotel and getting ready for the race in the hotel grounds near the tennis courts (tennis is big in Umag! They host an ATP tournament don’t you know!). The start of the race is in a town called Labin on the eastern side of the peninsula. There was a transport bus from Umag at 16:00 so we had plenty of time to spare. When we were ready we took the shuttle service back to the sports hall and made our way into the town centre to get some lunch. We forgot the race centre was closed over lunch so couldn’t drop our bags off until we went back for the bus to Labin after we’d eaten.
A few hours later we’d completed the bus journey and arrived at the little medieval town of Labin perched high up on the hill above the city of Rabac. There was an initial mad rush to the toilets as all 7 buses unloaded and then a short time of hanging around waiting for the race to start. Thankfully it went quickly and there was a good atmosphere as the host shared information over the loud speaker, a samba band provided entertainment and the organisers arranged a group photograph of all the female participants. Scott, another runner from Wales who I met on an UltraX event years ago, found me and said hello. Then, Before we knew it, Thunderstruck by AC/DC was pumping out and the countdown began. We were off…
Start line smiles
Section 1
For the first section we left Labin on the main road, leaving the old town through the archway and down hill. Naturally people bombed passed us from all directions. We we cautious and knew we couldn’t get caught up with speeding through the first downhill section so ran sensibly, even as we saw runners chasing each other up the initial little climb straight out of town before we turned off for the trails. The first trail was a narrow, single track trail that led down to the coast and towards Rabac. It was scattered with very loose rocks for most of the way. At the bottom we ran along the promenade of a the beautiful coastal city of Rabac (with its humongous resort perched on the side of the hill) and enjoyed the gentle sea breeze. We then turned off the sea front and up a lot of steps as we found the single tracks of the forest and wide, gravel roads that made up the first incline. It was rocky.
RabacRabac
The climb was fairly short and didn’t take long to ascend. There was a brief peak with a view point (one of those random man made picture frames you’re supposed to take a photo with?!). But I was more fascinated by the massive chimney from a nearby industrial site in the the valley below. Despite being about 450m high at the view point, this chimney looked like it towered almost all the way to the same height as us.
First ViewsSmiling, unaware that this terrain would be constant
From the peak we began the descent. It was a very long down hill on loose rock and gravel tracks, following large swooping switch backs down to sea level. The whole way the towering chimney occupied my thoughts. I know now that this is from the Plomin coal-fired power station. At the bottom we crossed a water channel connecting to the sea and made our way into a massive car park and the first aid station – Plomin Luka. Here we did a quick stop, the highlight being paprika flavoured crisps. I love paprika flavoured crisps. We checked out the profile of the next section and Matt set the strategy noting this was an important section to get right. It was the longest section of the race and also had the second largest of the climbs. It was about 7pm so we took out our head torches ready for sunset.
Leaving the coast behind
Section 2
We set off from the carpark and began the ascent of the big climb of almost 800m. It started ‘off track’ with lumpy, rocky ‘steps’ as we climbed a short way to the old village of Plomin situated on the hill. Here there were lots of enthusiastic supporters cheering. They were particularly vocal in cheering on the ‘chica’ who was in front of us. It was great to feel the support. The climb then took us onto some very steep, wide gravel tracks. It wasn’t known at the time, but this would be the most prominent of surfaces we’d run the whole race on – wide tracks for vehicle access that weren’t anything more than just loose rock and steep gradients. As we climbed the sun set rapidly. We were treated to a fantastic orange sky with the power station chimney getting smaller and smaller in the valley below us.
Sunset over the Plomin power station
The climb eventually levelled out. At the top was a very short but steep downhill on the same terrain then a few kilometres of undulating tracks. Already I was conscious of the terrain and my ankle and verbalising (moaning) to Matt. I’d rolled both my ankles numerous times already. I was a little concerned the impact this might have on my increasingly fragile body over the rest of the race. For the last few kilometres we descended sharply for about 500m back down to sea level again. It was a little quad buster but we tried to descend sensibly. Toward the bottom we ran alongside a river and crossed the water. Here the rock was very slippery and we were glad it wasn’t raining. The course would be infinitely harder in wet conditions like the previous year. The next aid station was in the old town of Mošćenička Draga – a small fishing port of the town of Mošćenice – and we could hear the atmosphere from the pumping music. The vibes and volunteers were excellent here. After more fuelling (paprika crisps!) we studied the next section’s route profile. Up next was the biggest climb of the race. We had about 1300m of elevation to climb in one go, roughly split up into a 900m and then a 400m climb, as we’d make our way towards Poklon.
Section 3
After leaving the town, the first part of the climb was steep gravel tracks (it’s becoming a theme now isn’t it.) with the terrain being very loose underfoot. The gravel tracks were intermittently broken up by steeper, more rocky climbs. We powered through with a nice consistent pace taking it steady. The darkness of the night helped not being able to see the trails and summits ahead. Occasionally I’d try second guessing our direction, pointing out the silhouette outlines of mountains looming around us in the night sky.
We conquered the first 900m without any concerns and had a long, surprising flat and down hill wide trails to enjoy for a a little section before climbing again. Now we climbed steep trails deep in the forest before a rather exposed section to the summit after we left the shelter of the trees. We could see the blurred glow of head torches disappearing into the darkness above us. We followed them into the unknown. With the exposed mountain the icy cold temperatures were initially refreshing after a tough climb but soon we realised how cold it was as the mist and clag of the summit set in. It was so misty that it was difficult to see as we traversed the final section to the summit along a short but very rocky ridge. Without being able to see more than a few metres ahead, we were shocked when a brick building of some sort of building appeared next to us out of nowhere. We were at the top of the trail, it was the Vojak Tower at Vojak – the highest peak on the Istrian peninsula – which then instantly turned to a pathed, stone pathway. It was glorious. A few hundred meters of rest bite from the rocks.
We began descending pretty soon and we kept moving to keep warm. With the moisture of the night we found the (now) rocky descent hard going as it was slippery. We followed the tracks down as the switch backs took us quickly down a few hundred metres to Poklon and the next aid station. This was the 50km mark and the first cut off point. We arrived about 2 hours ahead of our estimate. We were happy but both acknowledged how sore and achy we were. After 50km it felt like we’d run a lot further than what we had. My lower hamstrings were surprisingly tight and our quads ached. This was a significant milestone in the race though as we’d now completed the three biggest climbs, the first cut off and almost half of the total race elevation. Looking back, it’s a challenging 50km!
Long gradual gravel climbs
Section 4
From Poklon to Brgudac the section was fairly straight forward. There was a Little climb on road and trail (yeah it was mostly rocky). Then pretty much all long wide gravel tracks with mostly gentle downs and gentle ups for the undulating terrain. It was pretty slow going though and fatigue was definitely kicking in. Our feet were sore and we were seriously starting to dislike these gravel trails. We left Poklon about 3am and we were tired now and holding on to the thought that it would start to get lighter from around 6am. Whilst I moaned about the rocks, my ankles and feet, Matt started to get very sleepy and was weighing up the thought of a quick trail nap. He fought through the tiredness though and we got to the aid station just before 6am. As we were leaving the sun started to rise and the trails were visible enough without our head torches. We were starting to get excited about the day ahead and seeing some views after the darkness of the night.
Entry to the forestFresh water
Section 5
We left the aid station and followed the gravel tracks for a few kilometres before reaching some forests. It was a refreshing change of scenery. We crossed dried up old streams and passed a man made fountain(?) collecting water from the mountain side. The sunrise fully completed as we went deeper into the forest and the sun shone through the dense woodland. It created beautiful patterns of light and enjoyed the serenity of the moment. The field of runners had spread out and we enjoyed the peace and quiet of the forest. The climbs took us to a summit marked with a big Red Cross on it. We took a moment to enjoy the views which were panoramic. The trails then took us down through the forests with short sharp steep descents on loose soil. We enjoyed it despite the increasing quad fatigue we began to feel. We were 70-80km into the race now and had missed a nights sleep so fatigue was to be expected.
We were trying to keep each other entertained and were playing word games. We took turns naming countries beginning with the letter that the last country finished with. Matt was kicking my ass, badly. He kept hitting me with double ‘A’s and I was useless. So the game didn’t last long and he wasn’t having any of my excuse of “but we have another 25 hours of the race to play” as I attempted to stall. We switched the game to naming animals and I faired equally badly. Actually, worse because I kept replying “frog” to Matt’s play of “giraffe”. He kindly put it down to tiredness and not me being stupid. It did however give birth to the “giraffe, frog! game. A simple game of naming different animals, but any time someone says giraffe, the next person must say frog, if not they lose. Simple. It popped up a few times throughout the rest of the run.
Thankfully I was spared any further embarrassment as a new distraction soon graced us – the 100km runners. We knew the courses joined but weren’t expecting to reach the join before the majority of the 100km runners. We thought we’d maybe get the mid/back of the pack. Out of nowhere Matt heard a noise and turned to find the leading pack of 5 males (and not far behind them the leading lady!) right behind us. We stepped aside and cheered them through. One of the pack was Pau Capel (a big name in trail running) and we had fun cheering him.
The excitement soon subsided though as it made the next few kilometres a little frustrating as we carried on through the forests. For a few climbs and descents we had to constantly step aside to let all the speedy runners passed. It’s not needed, but it always feels the right thing to do (to give way and step aside). But it does mess with your momentum. And momentum is so important on long distance endurance runs. Thankfully most runners acknowledge and thank you for the consideration. Many however don’t. It was amusing how my ‘trail humour’ and attempts at heckling the runners falls so flat. Dad jokes like “don’t let us catch you up” and “you can beat him” just didn’t hit the mark. They never do but I can’t stop myself.
Panoramic views
When we reached the next aid station we took a bit of a longer rest to give more of the pack a chance to pass us (as this aid station was about 40km in to their race, many of the 100km runners didn’t hang around for long). We also saw Kaito, who we briefly met at registration the day before. He was flying on his first 100km event. We sat down and enjoyed another course of paprika crisp sandwiches (the best combination) which had been our primary fuel at each aid station. We were loving it.
Section 6
The next section was the final bit that would take us to the 100km mark and our drop bags. We’d pretty much done half the race now and gave ourselves a hi five as we left Trstenik . We had more, long roads/gravel tracks and forest to overcome as more 100km runners passed us. We were aligned with the mid pack of the race now which gives a different vibe. The elites and faster runners are so focused that they fly passed you and from most you get a simple thanks or acknowledgement. Further back in the pack the runners speak to you a bit more as they pass and many go out of their way to acknowledge the 100miles and express a little bit of awe at your achievement. It’s a a real confidence and morale boost. It spurs you on as you converse with these strangers and encourage each other. Something I really like about the sport.
In this section I recall a road crossing that led to a short steep climb as we reached another summit. This was the last climb we’d do at the higher altitudes. For the last 40km or so we’d been fluctuating around the 700-1100 m of altitude. After this summit we would descend and would not climb to more than about 400m again for the rest of the race. After the climb the descent was pretty straight and direct for a few hundred metres of elevation loss as we passed near Brest before a short undulating section through Slum. We then dropped the last 500m or so on rocky forest trails to Buzet. We could see the town from the trails and were second guessing where the aid station might be. We could see little dots of runners crossing roads and roundabouts and then disappearing into the town. Eventually, after passing over the train line, it was our turn to be the guiding dots for the runners behind us.
Heading into Buzet
Here we grabbed our drop bags and put our race strategy into action. We’d spent the last few kilometres adjusting and refining our plan – We’d get our bags and grab some food. Start charging our devices and sorting our kit as we ate. Then get changed into fresh clothes before going for a sleep (there were camp beds and planned sleeping areas at this aid station). After which we’d finish preparing our kit for the next section. This plan was based on our previous experiences. Firstly we thought it best to sleep where there was space to do so rather than waiting until we were more tired / later in the day. So despite it being around 1pm we decided a quick sleep now would be beneficial and hopefully postpone any tiredness deeper into the second night. We’ve also decided that it’s best to not go straight to sleep when we arrive at an aid station. We’ve done this before and we think the downsides outweigh the positives. Firstly you are normally wet with sweat and warm through adrenaline. As soon as you stop your temperature starts to plummet. It can be hard to get to sleep if cold and shivering. So always change clothes before sleeping. Secondly, eating first gives your body a brief rest from trying to process the food whilst on the go. And sometimes after you wake up you actually want to eat again!
So we did just that. We ate pasta with beef stew and sides of fried chicken. Istria100 is known for its great food and aid stations. Whilst I wouldn’t say any of this was great, the beef stew and fried chicken was definitely improvements on the options available at most other races! We then went for 30 mins of sleep. We were 2 hours ahead of our schedule and had plenty of time before the cut off. Plus, we’d planned on finishing early in the morning on Sunday and didn’t have anywhere to go as our hotel booking meant we couldn’t check in until about 2pm. So we didn’t care what time we actually finished. We had all day Sunday to do nothing and if we finished earlier we’d just have to sleep in the sports hall somewhere. We went upstairs to the sleeping area and found camp beds with no one else about. Perfect peace and quiet. We set an alarm and went to sleep. Before we knew it the alarm was waking us. I don’t think I really slept. I dozed but felt I was conscious the whole time. Matt did sleep though which was good as he’d been carrying that tiredness through from the early hours.
We had a few more snacks and decided to take a bit more time before leaving. I think in the end we rested for about 1.5 hours which is loads of time, even by my standards. There was another benefit here which came into our thinking. It was now very, very hot outside. The more time inside at Buzet meant the less time we spent outside in the heat. Not that it helped that much…
Section 7
As soon as we left Buzet we trotted down a road section towards the trail. I was pumped with energy from the rest and we moved quicker than we had for who knows how many hours. As we hit the start of the first climb, a muddy forest trail, the lack of shelter from the heat hit hard. Matt particular felt the heat as we started climbing and we made the decision to slow down. It’s good Matt recognised the impact of the heat as I think I would have pushed on and exhausted myself on the climb. The first climb was maybe a 150m section then a brief flatter bit before a final 100m push. We started to climb in the forests before we encountered some vineyards and wonderful little villages and farms on the hillsides. As we reached the top, a farmer directed us to a tap outside the house we could use. We wet our hats and faces and were so glad of his gesture. We then continued along a short road and more gravel tracks connecting the different vineyards which we followed as they took us back to the forests.
Somewhere around here we crossed a huge cliff with a drop off on the side of the hill before hitting the forest. The down hill took us deep into a forest that was wet and muddy. We were surprised. We’d heard how muddy the course could be but didn’t expect this would be the case with the warm weather. Yet here we were trouncing through mud. We navigated down and followed the sound of water as we joined up to a river and then crossed it numerous times in a short distance. It was fun at first then annoying as it happened so often. The stones crossing the water we slippery from all the runners before us. Further down though the river was fascinating as it carved incredible shapes and formations in the rock.
Cliff / drop offRiver crossing number 1023
Once we completed the descent we were greeted with our favourite gravel tracks again. These were steep and we started to climb back up. I think it was about 300m or so. It was dull and we were hating the rocky gravel tracks by now and it was so warm. We were both running low on water and still had a long way to go before the next aid station as it wasn’t until a few kilometres after we descended the other side of this hill. So it was another slow and steady climb of using momentum to keep heading forward. Very few people passed us now but occasionally we’d overtake runners from both races. Everyone was feeling the heat. After a while the gravel track gave way to solid hard stone. It was marginally more enjoyable but the heat seemed to reflect back up at us off the ground. We sought out every inch of shade we could find as it was so exposed.
We were talking about different races and the types of support you get at villages. Commenting that on this race we’d seen very little from locals/the villages in terms of people being outside and cheering/helping runners. We also commented that sometimes races acknowledge the warmer than expected weather and pop up extra water stations. We wished that was the case here. Then, like some sort of mind reading miracle, as we reached the top of the climb in the village of Vrh a local welcomed us to his house to use his outside tap. There was already a collection of runners outside sitting in the shade and drinking. We both drank a 500ml of water and I refilled both bottles and encouraged Matt to do the same. A wise decision as I drank the extra litre before we got to next aid station!! All hail the water king of Vrh!
More rocky trails on the descent before Butoniga
From the town we had another rocky forest decent into muddy trails leading towards a lake. We could see the aid station (Butoniga) way off in the distance on the other side of the lake. First we had to descend, then climb again passing through the small village of Sculci before crossing /round the lake. The muddy trails made the climb a little hard at first as it was slippery. After passing through the village we then headed down a long road to reach the lake. Here we walked the whole length on the flat footpath. We simply refused to run on anymore gravel track. My feet were on fire now and despite being only the first aid station since the big stop at Buzet it felt like it took us an age to reach it and we had been moving for over 4 hours again. I told Matt I was worried about some soreness in my feet so wanted to spend some time trying to patch them up a little. Thankfully I didn’t have blisters but I felt the soreness and redness of hotspots around my heals. I put blister plasters and tape on the affected area and immediately felt better knowing I might have prevented some bigger issues and made my feet more comfortable. I was pleased with my decision making! As we left Butoniga it was 7pm. So we had our head torches at the ready…
Heading to the lake/reservoir
Section 8
We left the aid station and had a 2km stretch along a river before re-joining the trails and starting to climb again. Like before the trail was surprisingly muddy and steep. It was slow going as we climbed through the forest and left the sticky mud behind. Before long we emerged on what seemed like a very new tarmac road. It just appeared out of nowhere and kept climbing. It was very steep. A long old slog as we kept plodding along. As we looked up in the darkness we saw a few head torches descending quickly. We tried to figure out the route and where we’d go. It was confusing (looking back I’m wondering if we even saw headtorches!). We seemed to circumnavigate in the opposite direction around the town on the hill and then back into the forest. A short and steep shortcut up to the village at the top. Despite it being dark and cold again the climb meant our temperatures rocketed. We were hot. A small group of runners had formed around us and I could see we weren’t the only ones who felt that climb!
From the village we went along a long straight track that confused me so much. It felt like a bridge sticking out from the side of the hill. My mind couldn’t process how the long path existed where it did. Must have been some sort of ridge or saddle in the hills. We led the pack of runners as the trail started to descend and become increasingly more narrow. Immediately I caused Matt to almost fall into me as I slowed down as the trail became saturated with deep sticky mud and large rocks buried in them. It was so slippery and we carefully had to navigate. Matt tried to get the next runner behind him to go first but he was not having any of it. I joked that we wanted to watch him fall over but the truth was he was right up Matt’s backside and breathing annoyingly loud. So instead we moved a little quicker, well as much as the terrain aloud us too. We were twisting in different directions on the descent and we lost all sense of orientation. I had no idea where we were heading and in which direction Umag was from here.
As the mud gave way to gravel we had resorted to walking again. It’s all we’d been doing pretty much since we left Buzet many hours ago. We walked along a few roads as we tried to figure out where we were going and which of the few villages/towns lit up on the different hills we’d be climbing too. Then the next hill then came again as we started out in more forests. Matt was very tired now and struggling to keep his eyes open and decided he couldn’t wait to the next aid station which was over the other side of the next climb, maybe close to 2 hours away. He wanted a trail nap so laid down on the side of the trail and gave me a strict instruction to give him just 2 minutes. I don’t no how he can get such energy/recovery from just 2 mins of sleep, but it works for him. As he laid there I bent over my poles and confirmed everything was ok to the other runners who passed us and checked that we were all ok.
2 mins later I resisted the urge to kick him and instead gave him a gentle shake from the shoulder. He sprang up on his feet, he was back, he was energised. We made good progress up the rest of the hill as we climbed to Motovun. We caught up and passed some of the runners before the trails turned to road and then to cobblestones. The cobbles hurt as we made our way through the historic old town. There were loads of them and the climb to the town was very steep. At the top we caught the rest of the runners who passed us when Matt slept and we fast walked away from them as we began the descent to Livade. Thankfully this descent was less steep than the ones before. But it didn’t make it any easier. We were just too tired and sore to make use of the gentle terrain. I think it was here that was the last time another runner went passed us running.
Before approaching the town there was a long flat gravel section alongside a major road. The sound of our poles tapping on the stone and stones crunching and rubbing each other was, for the first time, drowned out by another noise. The swooshing of cars passing. It was kind of nice to hear something different. At the end of the track we needed to cross the road. Thankfully nothing was coming because it was wide and we were slow. What faced us now was about 1km of straight road to Livade. It felt like 10km as we slowly walked the road. We’d already agreed that we’d sleep here again. We were both tired and it was 11pm. There was a long night ahead of us and still over a marathon to go. We believed there were more camp beds at this aid station so agreed to sleep for 20 mins if there were.
Once we entered the aid station I couldn’t see anything so I was getting ready for a ‘head on the table’ nap. But Matt being more authoritive just asked the volunteers and there were indeed beds for us, situated in a room next to the tent. We went in and had a slight wait for a bed to be freed up. There was probably less than ten beds cramped into a small room and the medics were treating other runners in the main room. fortunately we both got beds at the same time and asked to be woken in 20 mins. Matt slept through it all and woke naturally just about 20 mins later. He woke me but I think I just dozed and didn’t fall sleep again. I was a bit spaced out now. We went and had some warm soup and spent another ten mins composing ourselves and warming up under a heater. When we left the aid station we were very cold. We expected the second night to be warmer than the first as we were at much lower altitude. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t consistently cold but every now and then we’d get these icy blasts that would shock us.
Section 9
Leaving Livade I was moaning about how we still had so far to go. Matt however was the ever optimistic and sensible one. He verbalised the profile and put it into perspective to keep me focused. We had one climb of maybe 400m then a more gradual descent and gradual shorter climb of about 200m, the final proper climb. Once through this section it was pretty much down hill to the finish.
It was just as he described. We did a long climb in the forest in the cold. I think it passed rather quickly considering we were now over 130km into the race. We began the gentle descent that then felt never ending and the stones irritated our sore feet as we progressed along the long winding switchbacks. There was a short, steep and muddy descent as we then crossed a river before starting the final climb. It had it all. Gravel and stones, steep sections, twisting and turning tracks. Matt was talking away to me but I wasn’t talking back. I was drifting and struggling to keep my eyes open. He was using his experience and asking me questions. Loaded questions to make me talk and describe things. He’s wise like that. But I wasn’t helping. I wasn’t responding in the way that was needed. I wasn’t giving conversation, just grunting. It was having an impact on him too and he was starting to get sleepy also. A troublesome situation to be in and I wasn’t helping with my lack of communication. We managed it through a few micro trail naps. The 2 minute timer was back. It worked and sharpened us up a little. And I certainly slept this time. I had some vivid dream of Matt and his wife managing their laundry with some super fancy and advanced smart washing machine they operated from anywhere in the world. No idea where that came from.
We got to the next aid station Groznjan and it was stereotypical of the sort of aid stations you see towards the end of big races. The buzz and excitement has gone. The music and upbeat vibes are no more. It’s replaced with a sombre dark mood. A few runners spread out, some sleeping, some lost in thought, some just emotionless. Everyone exhausted. We needed sleep. We found a bench, got out our phones and set a timer for 10 mins. We placed our heads down on the table and tried to to get more sleep…
This was the one for me. This one worked and I got some rest. That and knowing it was 3 am and the sun was start bringing new life to us in around 3 hours and, as Matt said, we’d broken the race now. We just had the last 20 or so kms to go so were looking at 6-7 hours left. We’d probably finish about 2 hours later than we first thought. So not bad.
Section 10
From the aid station we found ourselves on a very long straight horrible gravel road. We passed through a number of tunnels. Matt commented that it must have been some old railway perhaps. I looked it up and we were on the ‘Parenzana Trail’ – it was indeed an old narrow-gauge railway that closed in 1935. It stretches for about 130km from Porec in Croatia, through Slovenia to Muggia in Italy. And yes, I’ve already found there is an ultra (various distances including an 88km one) held in February each year. And no, I’ve absolutely no interest in that. We didn’t enjoy this section – It was so straight, frustratingly so. We hated it in fact as it was so boring and the gravel wasn’t enjoyable to run on. Matt made a point of how crappy the 20km race must be if this is the route. After an eternity (yeah I know, it was only about 3 kms) we turned off the Parenzana trail. But what was to come was somehow worse. The trail became rockier with larger loose rocks. I had memories of Trans Gran Canaria (on a smaller scale).
The rocky track after leaving the Parenzana Trail
Sometime later we entered some forest tracks. The path was very twisty and narrow. I was now kicking my own ankles trying to avoid the rocks, but it was a very gradual downhill and I was speeding up though much to Matt’s frustration. I wasn’t trying to get a faster time but I really did want it (all of it, the race!) to end as soon as possible. Thankfully this was the shortest section of the whole course and we were soon breaking through the rocky forest as dawn started to break on our approach to Buje as we found ourselves ascending a road section to the final aid station. We sat under a heater and ate a little, lost in contemplation that we now had one final section left, 13km all of which was down hill apparently. But we knew that wasn’t the case…
Section 11
Of course we climbed in the town as soon as we left the aid station. Yeah not anything to really moan about but it’s just obvious and amusing when the aid station signs show and elevation profile with climbs and also state ‘0m’ of elevation gain. Sack the artist I said. Anyway, we passed through the town to the other side and had a little down hill on roads as we made our way to some fields.
Final descent from BujeDaylight at last
From here we spent some time with some slight climbs in farmland which was again surprisingly very muddy. Eventually we left the farms and found ourselves running a few km along a river. This is where we were lucky as the weather meant the fields were dry and compact with just a thin sticky layer of surface mud. More fields and riversides tracks awaited us as the sunrise gave way to morning and we got progressively hotter again. The fields felt endless as we could see so far ahead and the outskirts of Umag started to become visible way off in the distance. Still so far away, it was a long time before we reached it. We left the fields and found ourselves on a cycle path leading to the centre of town.
Leaving the farmland and removing stones from my shoes
We slowly reached the seafront and small gatherings of people clapped and cheered us over their morning coffees (and beers for some!). I pushed back on Matt’s urge to run the final stretch. I gave in when we were just a few metres away. We walked across the finish line and turned for a big hi-five for the cameras. Relief set in and amusement followed as the MC announced our names followed by “oh you’ve done a lot of these” clearly seeing our UTMB accounts flash up with all our details. A lovely lady then gave us our medals (which are quite significant and weighty!) and took our photos for us. It was over. We were so glad that there were no more gravel tracks to be run!
The finish line trotHi fiveFinish line smiles
Post race we walked back to the sports hall, had a shower and used all our free time to relax. We went to the massage area and had a complimentary massage and I sure got the works. A ‘four hands’ full body massage. The two guys worked my legs great, easing out all the tightness that had accumulated over the last two days. I was worried about how tender I was but the massage was great. The shoulders and back too, very relaxing. They even massaged my glutes and stretched me out. I really hit the jackpot!
We then caught the shuttle bus back to the hotel. It was still too early to check in but we took advantage of the post race meal which was a full buffet that we could help ourselves too. So much better than the usual post-race offerings. I filled up on Potatoes, fried chicken, beef stew and vegetables on repeat . After which we headed outside to the seafront and lay on the lounge beds and went to sleep. A timer set to wake us up ready for check in. Before we knew it we’d recovered a little, checked in and went about the next step of our pamper treatment – the spa. Swimming pool, saunas, steam rooms and Jacuzzis. We had a great few hours before it was time to eat again. Post race done well.
On reflection/ looking back…
Something I’ve not mentioned that surprised us was that there was so much rubbish on the route. It was clearly from runners and far too much to be accidental. From early on and more so in the later stages (which would have had all the races/event participants) there was discarded sports food wrappers everywhere. I’ve not seen so much dropped litter on a race before. Not sure why this would be the case. Oddly, we also saw a load of clothes discard on the trails. Not from runners though. But generic waste. It was a constant stream across the whole 100 miles and we noted enough to get fully kitted out at least twice over include rucksacks and hats and all. We thought it was odd as the trails are all quite isolated and don’t really go anywhere unless you cover a fair ol’ distance. Odd.
In terms of the race itself, for me it didn’t live up to my expectations and the hype. It’s clearly a lovely area and place to visit. But the nature of the 100miles meant it was all a bit meh really. Firstly we spent more time in the darkness of night than the day. So I assume we missed out on some probably excellent views, particularly the first night when we would have been at higher elevation. Secondly, there was a a real lack of variation in the trail. As I’ve moaned – the vast majority of trail is just gravel road. It’s far from enjoyable or interesting. The bit we enjoyed the most was the lush forest section after Brgudac. You also hear a lot about the amazing food at the event, but we didn’t think it was anything that special. All the aid stations were the same generic UTMB aid stations setups with bread, crisps, chocolate, pretzels, cheese, meat and sponsored sports stuff from naak. The hot food offering at Buzet was certainly better than most races provide but hardly anything worth raving to your mates about. That said, the volunteers were excellent and the event was exceptionally well organised. There was more than enough food for everyone, the link with the hotel with the shuttle bus service and post race meal was very good. It’s certainly a great exemplar for organisation and would be excellent for a experience for a relative newcomer to such events. The course markings were also some of the best I’ve experienced. No chance of going wrong on this course.
Course markings were obvious and plentiful
Overall though, as it goes for me, if I were to try and rank all the ‘milers’ I’ve done (which I’ve clearly gone and ranked) then it’s probably down as 4th in the list of 5 ‘milers’ I’ve completed (and I broke my ankle on one of the higher ranking ones and another gave about 900 runners the shits afterwards!). I just didn’t think the route and the trails are that enjoyable.
Other than that, I am quite pleased with how we came out on the other side. Neither of us had any problems, and after the massage were both walking fine. My ankles also seem to have held up ok, so my initial worries are no more and although my feet are very raw, I’ve only a few tiny blisters. Taking time to stop and empty stones from my shoes and apply plasters and tape definitely helped! So I’m pleased with my decision making mid run!
Run With Dai 