This is the second event by Big Feat Events that I’ve done. I did their Big Pilgrimage back in 2024 which was quite unique and I really enjoyed. With it almost Christmas, I had a little itch for one more ‘big’ run before the end of the year. The timing worked out so I signed up.
The next week it was an early start to drive to the New Forest in the pissing rain on Sunday morning for an 8am start. Arriving at the Holmsey Campsite I was already pretty wet after walking from the car park to the registration tent. Thankfully the rain stopped just in time for the start of the race.
The rain briefly stopped as the race started
The route promised lovely crisp and glistening frosty winter trails. From the off though it delivered wet and soggy muddy winter trails instead. The muddy patch at the start line held runners up before a brisk run on tarmac. Although it was covered in surface water. This was to set the tone for the day. With wet feat from the start though, it made for great fun not giving two hoots as to where I placed my feet and trying to avoid the mud or wet. It was amazing though how many people were actively trying to avoid both the mud and puddles at the start!
I’ve been to the New Forest twice before but never have I covered this sort of distance there. The trails were mostly on marked footpaths that were wide and forgiving. They were however either water logged or caked in mud throughout. Whilst I had good grip on my shoes, it did make it a little tougher on the legs constantly trying to stay up right and push off the softer ground.
I set off running and maintained the run pretty much the whole day. I walked briefly on the longer of the hills and after aid stations when I was still stuffing my face. Given it was wet I tried not to hang around at the aid stations for too long as it was clear I’d get pretty cold rather quickly. About midway through the run the heavens opened and it pissed down. I couldn’t get any wetter so it wasn’t too much bother.
Enjoying the wild horse roaming free
As beautiful as the route was, my mind was very distracted. The day before I had the amazing fortune to b drawn on the waitlist for the Western States Endurance Run in America. As great as this is (the chances are so slim and I’ve been applying for 7 years now!), the frustration is that I am number 49 on the waitlist (out of 75). The reality is that I’m more ‘out’ than ‘in’ and only a few times before has the person in 49th got an entry to the race (and each time that was all in the last few days before the race!). So my mind was crunching the options and scenarios all day long! It made the time fly by!
Wet Trails and Wet beard
waterlogged throughout
Towards the end of the route we had to cross a ford. We’d been warned in advance about this crossing and it was funny listening to people moan about as we approached like we weren’t already soaked from head to toe! Given the weather it was fuller than expected – they’d suggest ankle deep but it was more like thigh high. It was icy cold, but refreshing. As I crossed a shorter lady behind me needed assistance from another runner as there was quite an under current.
Towards the end of the route the different courses all came together and I found myself running near more and more people. I was still moving strongly until the last 5 km when stomach cramps hit me out of nowhere. I tried to ignore them but the last 1km they won the fight, grounding me to a halt a few times and playing on my mind. I was so close to the end. As I crossed the finish line I grabbed my medal and kept running straight to the facilities!
Despite the weather (I probably haven’t run in that sort of weather since I did Lakes in a Day!), it was a really fun day and I made my way around far quicker than expected which was good as I could get home earlier! I was planning on getting as close to 6 hours as I could but end up coming away with a 5 hr 20 finish. A lovely end to wrap up another year of running.
I’ve done a few races by the Freedom Racing team. All have been fairly local and I’ve enjoyed each one. A few years ago they set up another race in Sussex – the five trails ultra. It connects a loop using five different walking trails – the Serpent Trail, New Lipchis Way, The West Sussex Literary Trail, the Monarch’s Way and some of the South Downs Way. I’ve run on parts of each of these and wanted to do more of them. The location of the start and finish is a bit of a pain to reach on public transport so it was never convenient to do. But now I have access to a car I signed up along with Natalia and Nick.
We planned to arrive early and take advantage of the rolling start rather than wait till 10am to begin. We weren’t quite as efficient in our logistics though and only ended up starting about 20 minutes earlier than the masses. Either way, it was nice to begin on peaceful trails. I do like a rolling start. No fuss. No waiting. No crowded trails nor annoying noises or smells from other runners. There was the odd one or two runners who ran passed us as we first navigated the, familiar to me, Serpent trail path. Somewhere in the first 10 km we also caught up and passed a few who started before us too.
We reached the first aid station pretty quickly as it was fairly flat until this point. Stuffed our faces with the goods available and set off knowing we’d soon be on the first and biggest climb of the day. As we started ascending the front runners from the mass start came speeding passed us. Effortlessly they made their way up the climb. Nick and I recognised the climb from a similar race we did before – the Maverick Race South Downs ultra. We struggled up the climb that day much to the enjoyment of the photographer lurking in the trees. It felt a little better today.
We left the Serpent trail and did some kms on the New Lipchis Way. There were long wide descents and beautiful woodland trails as we made our way to the second aid station for more sandwiches and snacks. Here I handed in some headphones I found a long the way and we chatted to the race director’s parents who were very friendly as they always are out on Freedom Races volunteering and supporting runners.
Leaving the aid station we had a long but gentle climb and then another lovely descent. We ambled along the South Downs way for a bit and a little on the Literary Trail where we got ever slightly lost as we missed a turn off as we were deep in conversation. Back on track we enjoyed more woodland trails and open fields. The ground was muddier in places but overall dry and compact.
We ran a little bit on the Monarchs Way. Around the third aid station I can’t remember so much. We were battling through our own thoughts and mental processes. The day was drawing out and around late afternoon the temperature started to drop as the sun began to set. Up high on the final aid station at Bignor Hill car park we could feel the chilly air.
For the last 10km we had one big descent and then it was mostly flat again. We passed runners and runners passed us. For the last few kms it was quite a little group and we focused ourselves to hold our position and keep ahead of the others. We managed it. Speeding up in the last km as we came back in to the finish line. We saw some familiar faces and left pretty quickly to get changed and leave for home before we got too cold.
Another great adventure and excellent race by freedom racing. The route is a good one beautiful throughout and we were very lucky with the weather and the dry conditions. With the exposed South Downs, it could have been a miserable autumnal afternoon if it was damp and wet!
Another race in Austria, another mid race cancellation…
The Mayrhofen Ultra Z101, I won’t lie, scared me. For weeks we over analysed the profile and route. The technicality of the race sounded more on the extreme side of the events I’ve attempted – The climbs were long, steep and many (there were 3 climbs in excess of 1,000m and 2 more just under!). The final descent was almost a whopping 1800m drop over about 8km. The route was self-navigation (not marked). The finisher rate in previous years was less than 50%. But it wasn’t those things that worried us the most, it was the cut off timings there were 31 hours to complete it, this sounded very hard!
When over analysing, we made the mistake of comparing previous finishers times and ITRa scores. We were more worried now. In previous iterations, there were finishers finishing in the final 30 mins with an ITRa score in the mid 600s. Ours were all in the 400s. There were people finishing in the final 3 who’d done sub 30 hour UTMB times (we did 45hrs!) and 19 hour TDS finishers (we did 35 hrs!). Fair to say we were feeling the pressure and were prepared for a long, hard weekend of suffering.
The day before the race at the race briefing the organisers talked through the course and some of the many difficult sections with cables or high summits or the final boulder section after 80km we’d most likely do at night. They also discussed the weather which was wet and cold with plenty of snow expected on the summits. They said they were monitoring the conditions and would update us.
The day of the race we might have cheered a little when we received an email advising that there was a course change due to the snow. We wouldn’t be going up the Schonbichler Horn. It looked incredible but as the highest summit over 3000m the conditions were deemed unsafe so we wouldn’t be diverted along the road through the valley instead. The new course was slightly longer but had about 600m less elevation. We felt this made the cut offs more achievable for us and we now had a fighting chance of making the cut offs.
Start line vibes
45 mins before the race start we were at the start line ready to have our kit checked and receive our trackers. There we were told the the start would be delayed by 1 hour due to the rain. It was absolutely pouring it down. We were there in full waterproofs and were already soaked from walking down from the accommodation! So whilst annoying that we were delayed (and would now definitely be doing the boulder field in the dark the following night), we saw the benefit of hopefully starting in drier conditions!
Torrential rain and snow capped mountains
Come 6pm, the weather had indeed improved and we were off. After a fast start along the road and the climb to the village of Finkenberg, we soon entered the forest. Quickly the field of 60 or so runners spread out and the four of us settled near the back of the pack. Soon we were separating out amongst ourselves. Whilst aiming and wanting to run together, we we each individually focused on getting through the first two climbs as quickly as possible to assess our situation and timings.
These first two climbs of the route were huge. We’d climb 1300 on the first climb over about 9km and then over 1500m on the second climb. We’d see approximately 3000m of climb in the first 30km. With the amended route, that was now almost half the total elevation gain of the route! Paul and Darryl were ahead and I was a little further back then Matt a little behind me as we climbed. The climb was steep but the terrain friendly with mostly dirt tracks through the forest. We followed short, narrow switchbacks up endlessly through the forest. Eventually Darryl was lost to sight as I caught up with Paul and Matt close to us both.
We broke through the forest towards Gamshutte, the first aid station. There was a short out and back section to the refuge where we saw Darryl was already on his way down. The rest of us climbed up the last few hundred metres and took a few minutes to sort our fuel and eat before heading back down. The day light was diminishing and we put our head torches on. Paul had issues with his torch so Matt provided the light whilst he fixed it and I ran on.
The descent was steep and frantic as we dropped 1,000m. The trail here was again short switch backs but with loose wet soil. I ran freely with gravity assisting the pace. The forest was so dark and quiet. Despite still having some light outside, the dense trees blocked it all from reaching us and we ran under the feint glow of our head torches. A few times I slipped, the wet mud causing a few scares and the sharp hairpin bends keeping me focused. Luckily I never fell and in no time at all I was nearing the bottom, somewhat hot and out of breath.
As I continued there was no sign of any of the others, neither Darryl ahead of me nor Paul or Matt behind me. From here I knew the course would be pathed and gravelled road running through several smaller villages that gradually climbed before the next ascent really started. I stopped quickly and tightened my laces then set off, knowing I’d need to run as much as this section as I could to give myself a proper chance of finishing within the cut offs. I ran on and on and on. It was so long. The climb was the sort of climb at home I wouldn’t run, a gradual incline of about 300m over 9km or so. I kept on running though. My frustration was that, despite running it all, I was never catching the glimmers of head torches I’d see in the distance and was even overtaken a few times. I kept my head strong though and didn’t let this phase me or stop me running.
Eventually there was another aid station on the side of the road. An extra unexpected one at the start of the next climb. Due to the diverted route we’d come back here the next day, so I think that’s why it was there. I was glad and refilled my bottles ready for the 1300m climb over about 3km.
We started in the forest. Wow it was steep. Big lunging steps and rocks covered the path through the forest. The climb was endless short switch backs with no real break from the steepness. It took about an hour to get through the forest section, where we then climbed on the open mountain. It was dark. It was mostly off track. The ground was saturated with water. Looking up, I could see up high in the sky was an array of head torches lighting up the route. To my left the summit, clearly covered in snow and white in the darkness of night.
As I climbed the wet grass gave way to white snow. At 2000m the ground was covered in a thin layer of it. I could see why there were concerns about the snow that changed the course – we’d still be climbing close to 3,000m later on and already the snow level was down around the 2,000m mark! Regardless though, I plodded on. For an age. As I reached the higher level where I could see head torches starting the snowy summit I could feel the air getting much, much colder. I was aware and told myself I would layer up before too long to ensure I wasn’t cold when we summited.
There was a path somewhere!
I carried on. Slowly using my poles to drag my ass up. I did stop half way up the final ascent section to put on my coat and gloves. I couldn’t fit my fingers into my gloves properly so just rammed them in as best I could, knowing that eventually they would warm up and I’d have more manoeuvrability when they weren’t so cold. The climb was slow but eventually I summited about 2 hours after I started. As I breached the saddle, wow! the view was infinite. In the dark of night the full moon lit up the mountains all around me. The sky was so clear and as far as I could see there were snow covered mountains. Such a view was worth the climb!
Moonlight lighting up the night after the second climb
From here we traversed the side of the mountain towards Friesenberghaus hut. Way off I could see it. Lit up in the night. Beyond it head torches leaving and continuing the journey on towards the next mountains and refuge. I carried on, eager to get to the aid station. Then the route got harder. What looked like a quick traverse became a slow steady scramble as I climbed over huge snow covered rocks. They were so slippery. The only good thing was that the previous runners had compressed enough snow to make it easier for me to navigate the boulders and follow in the footsteps of those before me. It was quite nerve wracking with the slippery rocks.
The Freisenberghaus Hutte- the end of my race. A few head torches can be seen on their way to the next refuge.
Eventually I crossed the boulders and and the path became more clear and I trusted my footings again. Out of nowhere two ladies ran passed me. Again I was amazed how fast they were moving as I was running too and not exactly taking my time. It is always so impressive to see how quick and fearless other runners are!
Into the aid station I arrived and immediately stared chatting with the volunteers. They were so friendly and helpful. They filled my bottles and gave me warm beef soup. As I was chatting the lady answered the phone and I heard her say “oh no”. Then it came. They said the race had been terminated. The weather conditions had deteriorated and they were concerned about the route further along and the safety of runners. It was an odd feeling. It didn’t phase me in anyway. Just pure “oh well” acceptance. I took more soup and chatted with them some more. They told me there was another hiking path and I could descend to a road after 5km where they would arrange transport for us. I told them I’d wait for my two other friends to arrive (Darryl had already passed through) and went inside the refuge to wait in the warmth. Inside the two ladies and 3 more runners were also warming up. I noticed immediately that they were all wearing snow spikes. No wonder they were so confident with their running, although, I wouldn’t have wanted to wear spikes on the big boulders!
After a while I went back outside to look for Paul and Matt. I could see two head torches in the distance, probably finishing up the boulder section. The volunteer checked the tracker and confirmed it was them. She also confirmed Darryl was out of sight and on his way to the next aid station (which was a short section only about 5 km away). She asked me if I wanted to tell them the news or leave it to her. I said I would but that they wouldn’t believe me. I called out in the night and cheered them in. Then I broke the news. As predicted, they didn’t believe me. She confirmed, it took them a few moments to come to the realisation that it was no joke. Disappointment set in.
We went inside in the warmth and had more soup before taking the descent down off the mountain. It was a long 5km path as we descended 700m to the lake. The terrain not much better with large rocks and saturated paths. We had a few stream crossings and a very slippery wooden bridge to navigate to the road by the lake. Here we waited and maybe 5-10 mins later a mountain rescue team arrived and collected us. We started driving home before turning around and heading the opposite way. We drove to the halfway aid station and picked up more runners (and our drop bags). The cramped medical van drove us so far before we pulled over and squished into a taxi for the rest of the journey. We did eventually get back to Mayrohfen and, thanks to Paul’s boldness, we also got the taxi to stop outside our accommodation to save us a ten minute walk back through the town.
On the journey we discussed our thoughts and feelings. A few times the idea of getting up early and doing one of the other races (the 50 or 30kms perhaps) came up. But it was too late. We didn’t get to sleep till 5am and those races had early starts and buses to the start lines. It took us a while to realise the extent of our work out too. We still ran 35km with 3000m of ascent at night. It was no easy run and we were all a little achy when we did eventually wake up that day!
One thing is certain, for now, no more runs in the temperamental Austria mountains!
This was my second time running the North Downs Way 100 by Centurion Running, 5 years after my last outing. I’m not in a story telling mood so won’t be recounting step by step this adventure. 100 miles is a long way and I’ve described the course and experience in detail already, but I have captured some thoughts:
NDW100 by Centurion Running
The why – Why did I sign up to do a 100 mile run I’ve already run? Why did I sign up when I swore I onl want to run 100 mile races that offer something truly different and special to me? Western States is why… As I mentioned in my last post about the Glossglockner Ultra Trail, I now needed to complete a qualifying event to be eligible to enter the lottery for the Western States Endurance Run. I toiled with many other qualifying races, but the logistics, costs and timings were all unfavourable. So it was really coming down to doing one of the Centurion Running 100 milers. I didn’t want to run the NDW, so it was a bad place to start in terms of not really being mentally invested, but the logistics were just by far the easiest to accommodate. Despite this, the desire to get that WSER qualifier was strong enough to ensure I would finish though.
The short notice planning – Signing up to a 100 mile race with just a weeks notice is weird. It did however remove a lot of anxiety involved with the lead up to big events. Whilst it was kind of silly, it also feels good to know that I can do that. Not just start. But finish strongly! In the week leading up to the race, I went back and compared my previous time with that of Paul and Maria. We were all similar (finished within 30 mins of each other’s times over different years) but had massive variations in our pace. Maria was consistent throughout. I blew up at 50k, but then covered the last 40k significantly quicker. Paul had a speedy mid section and then blew up at the end.
My 5,6,7,8 Plan – From this I made a plan. Finishing was the goal (that is enough for the WSER qualifier). Finishing quicker than my 2020 time would be nice. I figured if I could move more consistently it would be a good day. I broke the race into 4 x 40km and gave myself a really intelligent and thought out arbitrary timings for each. Do the first 40km in 5 hours. The second 40km in 6 hours. The third 40km in 7 hours and the last 40km in, yep you guessed it, 8hrs. That would give me a 26 hr finish. Nice. Now the more informed reader will be aware of a gapping flaw in that plan. The race is 103 miles. So not exactly 160 km as per my plan. It also didn’t accommodate for any ‘dwell time’, of which there would be plenty. But I didn’t care. That was enough of a plan for me to be satisfied.
Official Photos thanks to Pierre
The friendly faces – There were many people I met at the start, during the race and at the finish. At registration I saw Pierre who was working as the Official Photographer for the event. Thanks so much for the pictures! Sarah who I met during registration and then ended up running the first section with. We had a good ‘ol natter and put the world to rights. Come the first aid station I couldn’t keep up though and she sped off. After box hill I never saw her again as she finished an impressive 3+ hours before me as fourth lady. Incredible performance. There was also Frank who was volunteering at Box hill. Thanks for the mood boost and filling me with food and water! Ian and Jamie were at the finish line and were out pacing other runners throughout the night. I always see them both at various races, Ian I shared many miles with on the North Downs Way back in 2020! Then there was Jamie (another) and Robin who I shared some miles with throughout the day. Always good to have company.
The first 40km – The start felt good. There are lots of flat sections and runnable trails from Farnham to Dorking. I ran pretty hard. Think I did it in about 4.5 hours which I was very happy with. The section after St Martha’s in particular I don’t enjoy (it’s so flat and repetitive) so I was glad to keep moving through these sections. At Box Hill it amused me how people have turned Box Hill into a mountain. The amount of huffing and puffing and sweating. The amount of runners using poles. It’s become this mystical beast. People walk up there in their Gucci trainers carrying buggies for fuck sake! It’s only about 100m of climbing!
The North Downs Kiss – I was running the section from Box Hill to Reigate with a guy I met called Jamie. Chatting away I must have completely switched off. I stubbed my toe and fell spectacularly. I let out a whelp and did a sort of shuffle stumble forward. Thankfully the shuffle gave me time to react and break the fall. Rather than go down like a sack of spuds I sort of skidded along the trail as I gave the North Downs way a kiss. Frustratingly it’s a Root-y, lumpy area and I did feel some impact. Grazed arms and knees mostly and I was covered in dirt which clung to my sweaty skin. I was shocked. It messed me up a bit. I was happy and moving well. Now my body was shaking and my mind wobbled. I couldn’t shake the thoughts about what damage I might have done. I told Jamie to run ahead as I walked and tried to compose myself. It took me a few km. I walked up Reigate hill and walked / shuffled to the aid station at Reigate cafe. I took ten mins here to sit down and breathe. I was ok. My hip hurt. But I was fine. The rest did wonders and I was able to shift the negative thoughts and get back out there. Turns out I didn’t break the fall entirely. A week later I still have a massive bruise on my hip which has gone through the whole spectrum of black, blue and then yellow!
North Downs Kiss – A week later the bruising was subsiding
Caterham – Running through Caterham was odd. 8 months ago I moved there. Now I was 38 miles into a 100 mile event running along trails I run every week. It was a mental thing running past knowing I could quit and be home within a few kms. It was never going to happen though. It also surprised me how hilly it is here. I run these trails without thinking every week, with 38 miles in the legs you feel every incline!! From Caterham to Otford it was hot. Not like in 2020. But it was the warmest part of the day on one of the most exposed parts of the trail, running through many open fields was tiring and energy sapping in the heat. I clocked the second 40km including an extended stop at Knockholt in about 6 and a half hours. Perfect. Right on time. Ready to go get Paul.
Secret Service – Leaving Knockholt a spectator made a weird joke about “look out for the secret services”. It went over my head. Down the country lane we came across some coppers. I thought nothing of it. Later on I found out that JD Vance was in town visiting the Foreign Minister who lives down that lane. So there was a high security presence. The joke made sense then all those hours later!
Meeting Paul at Otford – It was good to have a friendly face and someone to chat with. It had been a while since we’d seen each other, longer than usual! So it was good to catch up here over the next 14 hours or so. He’s such a top guy and happily volunteered to support me through the NDW to get the WSER qualifier.
Night time – I’d forgotten how many road sections there are in the race, even so in the second half of the race. There was a long flat section after Wrotham (about 60 miles in) that I couldn’t remember. And the roads to Blue Bell Hill and those at the end through Ashford were also longer than I remember. Conversely, there were a lot more hills in the last 30 miles than I recalled. A few of the obvious once I recalled but there were lots of undulations I’d completely forgotten about. Also at night the red moon at was epic. Here’s a picture from Pierre the photographer.
Bluebell Hill – Once upon a time there was an aid station here. There isn’t any more. It threw me. I thought I looked at the race instruction but clearly missed it. It was annoying as mentally I was looking forward to the stop and break. It made the section harder mentally as we carried on for a few more miles before reaching Detling. On the climb to Bluebell Hill I ticked over the 120km mark. That last 40km was a tad over 6 hours, far better than the 7 I’d planned for.
Pot Noodles – My drop bag for Detling (mile 82) was just 4 Pot Noodles. Nice and simple. Making sure me and Paul had something to fuel us for the last 20 miles. Paul wolfed them down. I spent 30 mins trying to get through them but only managed one and a dribble.
Sleepy Time – Arriving into Hollingbourne I was tired. Very tired. I’d shut down and was just trudging along. Not really talking. I was swaying aide to aide and my eyes were closing. I tried a 2 min trail nap but it wasn’t enough/ didn’t work. I told Paul I needed a 10 mins stop and wanted something I could sit on. Thankfully the ‘cyclist/ramblers rest’ spot on the Pilgrims Way had a lovely bench. We stopped and had a snooze. A little while later I was still sleepy. It was starting to get lighter but in the forests it was still pitch black. I found a stile and had another ten mins. I think I went to dream land on this one. Paul woke me up and I was fine afterwards. Daylight had arrived and the tiredness subdued.
The second sleep, the one that worked
The Pilgrims Way – This last section, the last 10 miles, was a constant plod and shuffle. Way better than 5 years earlier. The trails are now flatter with gentle undulations and mostly on gravel tracks until the last 3 miles of road to the finish line. We had a sit down and coffee at the aid station at Lennham and then breezed through Dunn Street into Ashford. It took about 8 hours to cover the last 40+kms.
No idea why I’m flipping the birdHeading to Ashford
The Finish – I crossed the finish line in about 25 hours and 20 mins. Almost 2.5 hrs quicker than when I ran the route in 2025. Pretty much nailed my 5678 plan. I’m aware that a sub 24hour finish is possible. I don’t need to move faster. I just need to spend less time at aid stations – the tracker suggests it had almost 2 hours of dwell time. I looked up other runners finishing hours before and hours after me and many stop at aid stations for only a fraction of that time. Still, it works for me. I like to faff about.
Final Thoughts – As always all the centurion staff and volunteers were awesome. It is such a well planned and organised event, as are all the Centurion races. And so, the objective was achieved and the bonus secured. A Western States Qualifier for the year is obtained and the dream is kept alive…And of course the biggest thanks to Paul. Since I mentioned the Glossglockner cancellation he was in my corner supporting me. Helping look for alternatives. He made the logistics for the NDW much easier and cheaper too by letting me stay in Guildford the night before, driving me to the start. Insisted on keeping me company for almost half the run. Drove me home. Looked after me. Not many would do so much. Only a few weeks back he flew to the states to do the same for Matt at Hardrock100. He’s one hell of a good friend!
We arrived into Kaprun to be welcomed by the rain. Immediately on the drive in the mountains were spectacular, towering above us in all directions. We managed one dry little hike the day before the race. Other than that, it rained, sometimes torrentially, for the few days we were there before the race. We also took advantage of the physio taping available, each addressing our own little niggles. Mine, some weird heel issue that has come out of nowhere to cause me pain (so much so that I added Codeine to my medical kit incase I needed to ‘block it out’).
Whilst the rest of us enjoyed a lazy morning, Ale did the 37km race, where he ran along the first 30km of our route, only in the opposite direction back to where we would be starting later that night. At the finish, he was soaked, but happy. That afternoon, the safety briefing for our race was released. It was comprehensive and very detailed. As we suspected it might be, the course for the other races was changed. For the 110k there were two changes, both in the second half of the course, we’d lose elevation gain and instead be re-directed through the valleys rather than up and over the mountains. We were ok with this change, the other potential change (that we were aware of) that could have happened was a complete re-route of the first 30km where we’d follow a road around the mountain. We were glad we wouldn’t be doing this diversion. They also changed the cut-offs, reducing the overall cut off by 2 hours. I guess that suggested the course would be ‘easier’. It didn’t affect my plan though – I intended to finish within 28 hours as that was the time required to use the race as a qualification for the Western States (WSER) run which I keep trying to get into.
Me and ‘Zincke’ twinning at the start
At the start line it was raining hard. Jon and I kept dry as long as we could. Just before starting the rain eased up and the MC indicated that they didn’t think it would rain anymore. Knowing we would be climbing uphill for pretty much the first few hours (we’d cover just shy of 2,000m elevation gain in the first 20km), I removed my coat to avoid overheating. Naturally, as soon as we started running it began raining again…
Running through the streets
The route started in the main town square. Immediately we were walking as they funnelled the runners right after the start line for some reason. Then it was a free for all along the road. I ran with Jon to begin with. After a short while we left the road onto some wider gravel tracks and then about 2km later we hit a climb. The poles came out as we slowed to a walk up the switchback narrow tracks. But it didn’t last long and we flattened out pretty quickly and started running again. I kept moving with the crowd and lost Jon in the masses. After the climb we ran first through muddy fields and past a building site/quarry of some sort before we were back on the wide gravel tracks again. It was an ever so gradual incline as we ran passed the Sigmund Thun Klamm Wasserfall that was spectacularly lit up in different colours in the night.
A picture Jon captured of the waterfall. Far better than the one I attempted to capture!
It proceed to rain and piss down as we made our way uphill, the climb getting steeper and steeper. There was a combination of narrow tracks, switch backs and wide roads. Occasionally, heavy machinery passing us on the roads in the night. We made our way through numerous tunnels, some on the roads, and some on the trails. They added a bit of adventure to the course. So far, so good. The climb was long, but easy going. The terrain was varied and, early on, at its hardest it was because of the water and how muddy the trails were. We weaved around the mountain, crossing many streams through the early hours. I was soaked right through, head to toe, but mostly warm. I told myself I’d re-assess the clothing options at the first checkpoint once we got higher. The decision was almost made for me as we passed through the bigger of the tunnels, running inside a narrow footpath beside the road.
TunnelTunneltunnel
As we emerged back out to the footpath, there was a queue of runners and a marshal. We were going to navigate along the cliff edge. There was no path anymore, just slippery rocks and a sheer drop below us. There were metal rungs occasionally there to aid our step and a metal cable along side for support. It was slow going. The worst part, above us over the mountain, the water was gushing down and we were essentially crossing a waterfall. It was a cold, midnight shower. Suddenly I was drenched and freezing and knew I’d need to put on a warmer layer at the aid station. Thankfully it was just around the corner once we were back on solid ground.
We were 2,000m up now. It was much colder. There was a large gazebo on the side of the road. It was the first aid station, Mooserboden. Like me, other runners were changing tops/putting on jackets as a priority. I put my coat straight on. Whilst I was wet underneath, I knew keeping the cold, windy air off my body would be sufficient to keep me warm. The effort of the climbing would mean my body temperature wouldn’t drop. I quickly had some warm potato soup (amazing!), filled my bottles and set back off.
A picture Jon took somewhere along the first climb. That might be the first aid station shining bright in the distance
Now we had one of the more spectacular sections of the race, alongside the damns and reservoirs above Kaprun. Only it was about 1am, so there was nothing for me to see. The route here was fairly flat and a mixture of pathed roads running across the damns, then rocky trails along side the streams that fed the reservoirs. It was undulating with a few climbs and again very muddy on the trails. I wasn’t expecting this, but it made so much sense. Even in the darkness I could sense the presence of the mountains, they were huge and dominating. They create their own weather system in the area and the vastness of the water-cycle became obvious.
After 4 or 5 km of these trails we started climbing again. It was steeper than before. Again, initially muddy, then progressively steeper and rockier. The rocks became boulders and it was a slow slog. Occasionally a little scrambling was required. Watching videos of the course I was mentally prepared and had put my poles away along time ago. They wouldn’t help on the giant, slippery rocks and the freedom of my hands for scrambling was a definite winner. At the top, a narrow squeeze through the rocks took us over the summit. I took a mount to breathe, looked down and assess the descent.
It started with a slow scramble down, using my hands to lower myself between rocks. The rocky switch backs then dominated the track as we weaved down slowly. As the rocks became smaller, the trail became narrower and wetter once more. I was moving freely though. Behind me another runner stuck with my pace and we started talking. It was a guy called Jakob. Between us we struggled to navigate in the darkness. The mist and clag severely limited our vision and the head torches couldn’t pick up the reflection of the course markings. It was slow but steady progress together. Thankfully I remained upright throughout, despite the odd bog reaching above my shins. For parts the trails reminded me of the boggy trails I’d run in Norway.
After the descent the trails were similar to before – flooded, muddy and narrow. Once more we weaved across many mountain streams as we made our way to the next climb. This one was a little slower going. It felt steeper, the rocks felt bigger and my breathing felt heavier. We were open to the elements up high and the wind was howling. After about 300m or so we emerged at the next aid station Rudolfshutte. Jakob set about tending to his feet and I went and had a few vegetable soups. The warmth and saltiness of the soups were delicious. Best I’ve had on a race for a long time. I didn’t stop long and went straight back out.
In the darkness of the night I ran down the path out of the aid station, a straight, fairly steep downhill that woke the legs up. It wasn’t long, although with the mist I couldn’t tell. At the bottom I found myself running with a few others. It was stop start as we navigated the course with difficulty. After a while we completely lost track of all markings and found ourselves to be off course. We’d followed the more obvious path, but now needed to back track a few hundred meters. Back on course we were climbing again. Just like before, out in the open on the mountain, steep rocks leading us up. There were no switch backs here. Just head down and follow a straight line up to the summit of the climb. It was once again slow going but I kept moving. The higher we climbed the colder it got.
An Image Jon took showing the terrain on some of the climbs. I assume this was the last summit before the long descent giving the darkness had gone and he wasn’t far behind me.
When I reached the summit, I felt on top of the world. Morning was slowly breaking and the darkness of night was becoming more grey in the rain. Visibility was improving as I headed straight back down. I knew now it was all down hill to the half-way mark. It was about 16-18km of downhill though! The initial descent was steep as we clambered over the boulders to lower ground. Then we followed narrow switchbacks on loose scree. The ankles were screaming, but the descent was quick. After descending a few hundred meters the incline decreased and the trails became less rocky.
The morning was clearing up, the rain stopped and I finally had enough light to get a glimpse of the surroundings. Wow! We were in a vast valley. Surrounded by huge mountains. It reminder me of those in the French Alps. All around us were spectacular rock formations and huge waterfalls. I tried to take some pictures, but the lighting didn’t do it justice. Jakob went flying passed me as I continued to plod down. Way off in the distance was a lake where I could see runners heading too. From there who knows where the course would take me…
Looking back on the summit as the darkness gave way to lightIncredible valley.
It felt like an eternity, trundling with wet, muddy trails and dry gravel tracks to make any progress. Occasional short inclines brought brief moments of rest. I was conscious that I was going to destroy my quads, but this was probably going to be the best trails and terrain I’d get for any consistent running, so kept moving. Partway down there was a water stop at a farm. Well, water and beer. I filled my bottles (with water!) and left, carrying on the consistent pace where possible. There was another runner here, Jan that I started chatting with and we ran pretty much all the way to the aid station together.
Closing in on the lakeDown we go
At one point on the descent, the trail took us through another tunnel. Jan was way ahead at this point as I entered and tried to film the tunnel. It was however longer than I expected and pitch black inside. As I ran I fumbled around to find my head torch. It was a huge tunnel. As I ran I could here a rumble. It was loud. Like the night before I assumed there were works and heavy machinery somewhere. It grew louder and louder and I couldn’t ascertain where it was coming from. Then I looked behind me and saw a faint glow of headlights. There was something very big coming behind me! I stepped up the pace. I was almost sprinting in the dark. There was no where to step aside in the tunnel. I could see the daylight ahead and ran as fast as my tired legs would take me. Outside Jan was waiting and moments after me a huge tractor and trailer emerged right behind me. I made it just in time! A race within a race.
The last few kms into the aid station were a walk run as we ran through the town and up to the aid station. As I arrived the 50km runners were lining up about to start. The MC called out “one minute to go”. I looked for my friends in the crowd but couldn’t see them. So I started screaming their names. The runners loved it. Many cheered back, many clapped me and there were a few hi-fives too as they set off running passed me in the opposite direction, to begin their own adventures.
Inside, I got my drop bag and did a full kit change, dried and cleaned my feet, reapplied some tape and had a nice warm pasta dish. I spent a little over 30mins preparing myself. I felt good. Very good. It had taken just over 10 hours to get through Kals, which was just shy of 50km. As tough mountain 50kms go, it was alright! For comparison it took over 13 hours to do a similar distance at the Dolomiti Extreme Trail recently and Stranda Fjord 3 years ago took me about 12 hours. I psyched myself up to head back out in the rain, optimistic I’d be finishing far quicker than I planned for.
The long, diverted climb after Kals where my race ended
Only I didn’t realise just how quickly I’d be finishing… After leaving the aid station we were on wide un-pathed roads. Climbing almost immediately. Some parts were fairly steep but overall it was a manageable incline to hike steadily. I passed the turning where the original course would have take and probably got about 2-3km along, climbed maybe 300m before I saw a runner coming down hill. I assumed they were either not in the race or had decided to quit and return to Kals. Then they stopped me and explained the race had been stopped. Cancelled. It was over. Due to weather conditions near the GlocknerHause the organisers had decided to stop the races and runners were to return to the nearest Aid Station (either Kals I’d just left or to GloreHutte for those further along). I was in disbelief. I didn’t want to believe them I stayed there and waited as they headed back down. A few moments later more runners were coming. Acceptance set in. Once of the runners was Jan and he confirmed he’d spoken to his wife who’d said the same. Begrudgingly I turned around and began slowly heading back to Kals too. On the way down more and more runners passed me.
As I descended I got chatting to another, a French chap. We acknowledged it was disappointing but safety is always the right call. He said that the organisers were arranging for buses to transport runners back to Kaprun from the aid stations. At Kals, I looked for Jon and the others but couldn’t find them. Then a lady announced there were two buses. I made sure I was on one. An hour and a half later I was back in Kals where it all began. A whole day ahead of me with no idea how to use it!
As disappointing as it is, it’s always the right decision for an organiser to prioritise safety of runners above everything else. People will moan, but no organiser wants to cancel their race! I was glad to get on the first bus (good timing!) as some of the others waited hours for buses. The only thing I’d criticise is that since the race was cancelled, and still, there has been no communication from the organisers whatsoever to participants directly. An explanation of some sort would be appreciated. That said, I’d definitely go back to this race and finish the job! I was running well and on for a good time! I also feel bad for my friends on the 50km race that only managed a few kms before their race was cancelled less than an hour after they began!
Later that week I emailed the organiser of WSER to see what the situation would be regarding qualifiers. They quickly responded saying they’d still accept the GGUT as a qualifier IF I’d reached GloreHutte before it was cancelled. Sadly I didn’t and was probably still a few hours away from that point. So I immediately went off looking for another qualifier. I looked at several options and begrudgingly signed up to run the North Downs Way 100, again. Logistically it was the easiest and most sensible option. The race is next week… yeah, a 100mile event at a week’s notice can be ‘sensible’ with this addiction!
Another week, another race. I almost didn’t sign up to the inaugural Tea & Trails ultra as I thought the cost of an entry was far too steep (I think it was about £150 for a 50km!!). However, after Jon got a discounted entry for a friend, I decided it was more reasonable and jumped on board, ready to explore a little more of the Lake District.
We travelled up on Friday morning along with Ilona and Phil and would meet Shirin and a few others in the lakes. As part of the event there was camping and various talks and stuff happening over the weekend. Thankfully though Jon isn’t fond of camping and neither am I (when running anyway!) so we dropped the others off in the field in the rain and made our way to the hotel to check in.
The next morning we arrived bright and early to register and spent a short while chatting with the others before deciding to just start. Yep, just start we did – the organisers had a rolling start for an hour before the mass start. We’d planned to join the mass start at 8:30 but thought there was no point hanging around for another 45 minutes when we could just get going. Besides, Jon had a plan to deviate from the course and ‘tag’ a few more Wrainwrights, so the extra time would be put to good use.
Dry and warm before the start…
After a quick kit check and receiving our trackers, we spent a few mins explaining to the tracking/safety team our plan to go off route. It was better to let them know in advance rather than panic if they saw our trackers go ‘off route’. Then we casually walked over the start line and out of the field…
It started with a bit more faffing as I forgot to start my watch and didn’t have my heart rate strap on (great fun trying to get on without taking my jacket off in the rain) which I did as we slowly jogged along the country lane upon leaving the field. It was already wet and miserable as we slowly walked the long road and made our way up to the car park at the bottom of Skiddaw. Despite this, it was way too hot so I peeled my jacket off half way up. From the car park we had a nice gentle single track descent and, momentarily, the clag lifted and we could see a glimpse of a view back down through the valley.
Runnable trails after the first climbA slight moment when the clag lifted
We passed some Marshall’s before continuing down on a slippery and wet section before seeing some of Jon’s friends who were volunteering out on the course. Next up came a wide and gentle climb as we made our way along the other side of the valley and towards Blencathra. By now we’d passed a few others from the rolling start and could see the masses from the main start making their way along the other side of the valley we’d just traversed. The front runner already had a significant lead and we suspected he’d be passing us very quickly.
We had a short descent into another car park before heading onto some single track to begin the first of two big climbs on the route. It was straight up to Blencathra from here. We were on the gravel switch back climb when the first runner did indeed come speeding passed us, running the steep climb effortlessly. It is always so impressive to see lead runners running, not something I get to experience in a mass start!
Climbing Blencathratogether…
As we reached the top the summit was completely covered in clag and visibility was just a few metres. It was windy, but a decent temperature and not cold at all. After a quick summit photo we made our way across Blencathra (I was trying, unsuccessfully, to see were Halls Fell ridge was, which we descended down on the Lakes In A Day last year) as we passed.
Visibility up BlencathraDescending Blencathra
It wasn’t long before we were descending again with initially nice wide trails and a little bit of off-track running. It was enjoyable and the further down we went, the better the visibility became. Off in the distance we could see other runners and where the route would take us. It was probably about 45 mins since the lead runner went passed and now more and more runners were following in his footsteps.
We continued to descent in a lovely single track that very quickly became a stream. The relentless rain for a few days (whilst the rest of the UK was experiencing a heatwave, It had been pouring down in the Lake District!) meant there was a lot of water running off the mountains and temporary streams were forming as the water followed the shape of the footpath. We embraced it and the descent was still enjoyable even with cold and wet feet.
As we continued, so did the build up of water. There were puddles galore and some were quite deep. Despite mocking my choice of footwear (they were far from aggressive on the grip front) it was Jon who slipped and fell (not once, but twice) and had a small mud bath. I almost joined him when I stopped to take a photo and almost slipped whilst standing still!
Tentative trails before the fallnimble footwork
We made it to the first aid station after about 20km and were glad for a quick fuel stop. The aid station was quiet but exceptionally prepared inside the Mungrisdale village hall. The lovely volunteers pandered to my constant requests for sandwiches (first jam and then cheese and pickle) and afterwards stocked me up with wonderful cakes (the salted caramel brownie was delicious) before we left. As we walked on, I tried to eat all the food I was carrying, but had to stash a bit of brownie in my soft cup which I was just to stuffed to finish. I forgot about it later and found it all mushed up in my cup after the race!
We started seeing more and more people now and Jon became more and more recognised too. Besides being recognised from his (brilliant!) adventure on the Northern Traverse (organised by the same race director), Jon is a bit of a Tea & Trails super fan and featured as a guest on one of the episodes. A handful of people recognised him along the day! Much to my amusement as I mocked him each time (think “oooh podcast friends” and “I’m kind of a big deal”).
In the midday rain we continued along the undulating road section to Mosedale (this was pretty dull and a little tiring with the small inclines and descents) before re-joining the trail that leads to Skiddaw House (the next aid station). From here I knew the next few kms as we’d run the same trail years back (with Jon!) on the Grand Tour of Skiddaw race. As we reminisced about previous races the Tea & Trail hosts popped up on course, much to Jon’s delight and my amusement. I said Jon was like Troy McClure from The Simpsons – “hi, I’m Jon Zincke, you might remember me from such adventures as the Northern Traverse and the Tea & Trails Podcast”). After a quick chat we carried on.
Up to Skiddaw House
It wasn’t long before we reached Skiddaw House (the highest hostel in the UK) and stopped to refuel (or chat Northern Traverse with fellow runners/volunteers in Jon’s case!). As I mocked him a little more, I stuffed my face with more cheese and pickle sandwiches (Pickle me up!) in the rain. It was good proper soggy weather now!
From here we’d have our first course deviation to ‘bag a Wrainwright’. After a few kms of lovely runnable trails we left the trail and headed straight uphill on a vague track. It was steep and slippery and slow going. We added a few hundred extra meters of elevation here to see a pile of rocks before turning round and heading by back down to re-join the route. This was the biggest deviation we’d do and I was quite glad when it was over!
This could have been taken anywhere along the route!
The trails took us along a gentle track back down through the valley and we joined a road we once again recognised from the Grand Tour (it was a different experience that day which was very hot and sweaty!). The next few kms took us through several fields and trails as we made our way to the bottom of Skiddaw. Here there was the final checkpoint (no more sandwiches as it was just a water stop) before we would start the biggest climb of the course.
And climb we did. We’d be climbing Skiddaw the way we descended on the Grand Tour up (along Ullock Pike I think). I thought I remembered it well, but clearly I didn’t. The initial part had a few longer and steeper climbs than I remembered. Nothing too bad but a few slightly technical sections and it was slow going on tired legs. Before we reached the steep ‘scree’ part of the climb we took another diversion. A very short one as we extended a corner to a tighter angle to bag another Wrainwright. Passing the pile of rocks (so memorable I can’t even recall its name) we re-joined the course and began the toughest part of the course.
Here you climb steeply along the side of the mountain with small loose rocks underfoot. By now the wind and rain was pummelling us. It was very much a case of head down, keep breathing and keep slowly moving forward. It was far longer than I remembered and the legs were screaming out for it to be over! We kept going and made it to the top where the wind really kicked in. Strong winds were blowing runners around and making it difficult to traverse the short out and back to the actual summit point where we’d turn around. We thanked the volunteers who were braving the elements for us and headed back. The mission now was to get down as quickly as possible to get out of the wind. We were cold and wet as we tried to run whilst holding our hoods and hats on our head and hold our race numbers to our shorts. I was leaning back into the wind as it pushed against me, pushing me upright and vertical. The whiplash of my hood flapping violently against my ear was annoying and I was so glad when we’d descended enough to get out of the wind and clag.
We made a decision to skip our planned, short detour to Skiddaw Little Man as we really just couldn’t be bothered now (it’s an easy one for Jon to access and tick off this Wrainwright another time) and kept with the momentum of running down the descent off Skiddaw. The descent was tiring. A quad buster for sure. I’d only ever ascended on this route before and once again had forgotten how long it was. Running down hill was quickly exhausting. The legs had had enough now!
Eventually we made it back to the car park (the one we’d passed first thing in the morning) and confused some spectators as we detoured again and left the route. We were off for the short detour to Lattrig. We took a slightly different path than we’d initially planned and it turned out to be much nicer (longer but less steep!). We had a brief chat with some hikers at the view point (not knowing that we hadn’t actually made it to the summit point!) and then turned around, ready for the last few kms to the finish line.
Glad to be finished and ready to have a shower
The descent was nice and gentle as we ran single tracks before joining some flatter fields that headed back to the country road we started on. It was a short few hundred meters back into the campsite and over the finish line, through the human tunnel the volunteers created as they cheered us in. We were given our finisher’s mugs and we played around as we had our photo taken. We then met up with the others and also cheered in Shirin who finished just behind us. After the finish we had a quick dry off and change in the car park before driving back to the hotel for a lovely warm shower and fish and chips. We later headed back down to the campsite to watch a live recording of the podcast.
It was a brilliant weekend and adventure with a great organisation of the first Tea & Trails ultra. It might have been typical to get blown about and soaked through in the Lake District. Certainly true that races in the Lake District always have the best aid stations and food!
Here we go then. The first ‘big one’ and real ultra test of 2025 – the Dolomiti Extreme Trail. 103km of trail running around the beautiful Dolomites. It wouldn’t be my first running adventure in the Dolomites – back in 2019 I ran the Lavaredo Ultra Trail – so when Matt messaged about joining him for the race, part of me thought ‘oh I’ve been there and done that’ but after looking into it I realised the race is in a completely different part of the region. So I was in, ready to explore some more of the beautiful Dolomites.
Leading up to the race, the organisation seemed top notch. There was a plethora of information provided and heaps of services for runners. For example, being in a small town, many runners would be staying in other parts of the valley and a bus service to transport you around, between registration and hotels and to and from the start and finish was provided. This would be great…
We were staying a little further up in the valley in Mareson and I flew in the night before Matt and stayed overnight near the airport in Venice. We rented a car and drove over the day before the race. We checked in to the hotel and were all set to use the bus service to head down and register. The hotel even called the organisers and confirmed the bus schedule for us. We hung around and waited for a bus that never came. The hotel owner’s son very kindly drove us down to the Forno di Zoldo to register. After registering we checked and asked about the buses (and also ‘booked’ our bus back to the town for the start the next evening) and were told ‘oh, the buses aren’t running today’. Despite them being advertised and the schedules being provided to all the hotels and confirmed over the phone a few hours earlier… this was frustrating. It also seemed unclear whether we’d be able to get a bus back in the early hours of Sunday morning when we were likely to finish. But that was a problem for two days time. As we left to find our own way back up the valley, It was at this moment we joked ‘Never trust Italians’. The phrase held true for the whole weekend…
Friday evening we were making our way down to the start line when we were talking to the hotel owner’s son again. He wished us well and said he’d be volunteering at a checkpoint. We didn’t recognise the checkpoint name and after a little discussion it became apparent from him that we’d be doing an alternate route due to high snow levels on the summit. We hadn’t been told this… he also mentioned that 8 out of the 10 years of the event the alternate route had been run (sounds like it is the main route rather than the alternate!). At the start line we confirmed and clarified this with someone from the organisation. With appropriate mental adjustments and re-calculations made, we were set. We left our drop bags off at the dedicated zone and waited for the race to begin. A little while later in the start pen, just a few moments before the race began, there was a medical emergency for a runner and the start was delayed whilst they received medical attention. Then, a little after 10pm we began…
Calm before the StartPenned in, ready and waiting
The race began quite quickly. 100s of runners running fast down the wide main road. A gradual decline, the pace was excessive for the first few kms of a 100km mountain race. We were caught up in the moment trying to maintain our place in the pack. We ran down and through the tunnel we drove in through on the way in the day before. The tunnel seemed so much longer on foot! Leaving the tunnel we left the road and hit the trails at Le Bocole. Loads of runners stopped to ‘water’ the piles of gravel and aggregate. Then we had the greatest ever bit of support from a local (I assume) as they rev’d a chainsaw above their head in the darkness of the night “Vrrr Vrrr Vrrr”. It was different and made us laugh and a real talking point!
Legging it down the road
My memory of the course was a long single track climb that lead to a real dense forest where it was very soft underfoot. The floor was covered with pine needles and bounced and wobbled under our weight. Through the forest we climbed higher and higher in the humid night. It was hot and stuffy. Very hot. Somewhere the trails opened up and we had some enjoyable runnable descending for several kms mixed with a few short technical descents and bottlenecks at each. One technical section had quite a pile up as runners had to cross a fast moving river. Volunteers lit up the river with massive fires and helped ensure we all crossed safely.
One of many bottlenecksRiver Crossing
The other side of the river led us back up a very steep long climb and back into the humidity of the night. The forests around us smelt so fresh and the night was so peaceful despite the sounds of runners huffing and puffing their way upwards. Once more what went up must come down and so we did once again on an enjoyable descent that was a joy to run down. It lead to the first aid station, a water only stop where we quickly refilled and moved on.
Looking back, this first section was probably one of the easier bits of the course but also gave the first insight into the route. Throughout, and what followed was long and steep, very steep climbs. Each one caught us out and we moved slowly. The terrain however changed and the ground became softer and wetter and harder to move through. A few days of relentless rain and storms had saturated the mountains and made them far muddier than I was expecting. Our pace on the climbs dropped as we moved more slowly. The descents too became rockier and more technical. Gone were the lovely runnable descents we’d first encountered.
As we continued the theme of the night became persistent. It was hot, very hot, yet we were very cold with the sweat of the humid night and gentle breeze. When the mud subsided, it gave way to big rocky sections and boulders to climb up. The combination was exhausting. We ran through forests, passed lakes and broke out into lightly coated snowy trails on the side of the mountains. Despite the steep climbs, we weren’t hitting summits and were skirting around the side of them. As we descended back into forests the day light started to break through the darkness and we could see the shape of the magnificent landscape around us. It was early in the morning and the birds were bringing the music and soundtrack to the trails.
Reminiscing, the trails of the first 50km have all blurred into a series of tough climbs, muddy trails and rocky technical sections. At one point there was a particularly technical descent with a safety rope/chain. Runners were tentatively making our way down when the lead runner of the 50km zipped passed. He flew down, barely touching the ground. No chain or support, no fear. He descended effortlessly and out of sight in the time it took me to cover a few meters of the descent. It was so impressive.
Step descentRocky and technical
After a few aid stations it became apparent that the information on the distances and tracks between them was a bit… iffy… some aid stations would come around far quicker than expected one was even 3 or 4kms earlier than we thought. We stayed high for a while and had some pathed road sections that climbed between aid stations. After one we could see runners far off ahead going up a ski track. Soon we followed. It was short but steep. Naturally after a while we had to drop the equivalent on a steep descent down.
By now it was close to midday. The temperature had soared and the humidity persisted. I was looking forward to a change into dry clothes and tending to my ‘personal’ needs at the half way mark. It wasn’t long before we were making our way to the half way mark where we’d have our drop bags. It was at a refuge we’d visited in the car the day before. We recognised the trails and we happy to arrive.
The aid station was chaotic. A big marquee was full of runners from the 100km, the 70km and the 50km. Supporters and families of the runners filled the tent and we struggled to find a place to sit down and make space for ourselves. We bunched some others up on a table and also identified a volunteer who was sorting the drop bags. We gave her our numbers and she said she’d get our bags and bring them to the table for us. Great. But this is where things went a bit rogue. Remember, never trust and Italian!
As we set about our ‘break’, we were a bit deflated by the lack of hot food or variation to food at the aid station and settled in for some more of the very bland and tasteless ‘soup’ with some small bits of noodles which had been available at most aid stations. It was by far the worse ‘soup’ I’ve had at a race. We stripped off our wet clothes and sat topless in our pants, sweating away in the busy tent. Time was passing by and we still didn’t have our drop bags. We had to ask again 3 or 4 times over the course of about 20 minutes. The woman kept saying they were coming, she also came a few times to re- ask our numbers. It was irritating. Eventually Matt’s bag showed up. But mine didn’t. God knows how much more time had passed when she started bringing other people’s bags to me. It didn’t make sense. Finally she told me they couldn’t find my bag and to put my shirt on and go look for it myself. Not what I wanted to be doing…
Annoyingly the drop bags were located a little distance away from the marquee. And this is where I could see the problem. It was essentially a human chain, like ‘Chinese whispers’. Volunteers passing numbers verbally between them. Then telling kids who’d run off and collect the bag and return it. No wonder she was bringing the wrong numbers and having to keep asking what was our number. It was just chaotic confusion!
At the bag location the volunteers all spoke little English. One German lady was very helpful and also very traumatised that they couldn’t find my bag. Sadly, regrettably, she was getting the blunt end of my frustration. She was explaining that they didn’t know where my bag was, and suspected it had been sent to the finish line. I could see the pain she was experiencing as her ‘system’ had failed and she couldn’t explain or account for why my bag was there. My issue though was that it was all guesses. I wanted clarity, if they could confirm where my bag was, my mind would be at ease. With a late night finish expected, and an early wake up to drive to the airport, I wouldn’t have the time to go looking for my bag the next day. It took a bit of persuasion from me to get get them to call the finish line and look for my bag. The lady also roped her husband in to translate as he spoke more English (and I spoke no German nor Italian!). This was helpful as the volunteers were planning on getting my bag brought back to the aid station if they found it at the finish! Through him I was able to express that this was not going to be helpful – I was cold from the wet clothes and needed to get moving again. I didn’t have the time to wait for the bag to be found and driven back up the mountain!
I went back to eating and waited a little longer whilst they tried to confirm where my bag was. The man kept providing me updates – it wasn’t at the finish line either, so they suspected it was now in a van on the way to the finish – but it got to the point where we had to leave. We’d been at the aid station for over an hour now. As we left, crossed the road back to the trails, the man came running after us. They’d found the bag, confirmed it was in the van and now at the finish line waiting. I thanked him. At least my mind was at ease now knowing where my bag was.
Despite knowing though, my mind had ‘gone’. For God knows how long I moaned about the experience. Much to Matt’s annoyance, I couldn’t let it go. I moaned endlessly about how it shouldn’t happen, the process had failed, what I didn’t have (my preferred hydration/personal effects etc.), that every runner I recognised that we ran near had changed into fresh clothes and I hadn’t… everything. I just moaned. I made bold statements about the harsh words I’d have with the race organisers at the finish, the regret I had for the frustrated tone I’d spoke to the very helpful lady with etc. for kms after the aid station and throughout the next 50km I moaned and moaned and moaned.
The only flipside was it lit a bit of a fire in me. I was very uncomfortable with chafe, wet itch clothes and worrying about how my energy levels would drop as I’d now be reliant on the horrible soup and weak isotonic drinks at the aid station, so I was pushing us an moving quicker with the single aim of getting it over with as soon as possible. Matt occasionally would have to reign me in and stop me from burning us both out, we did have plenty of time after all!
This first section of the second half the race was a long 11km stretch between aid stations. It was mostly the very familiar gradual climbs through woodlands and dense forests and long dirt gravel tracks. In our minds we would have a course split around this point and no longer have the masses of 70km and 50km runners with us. But our understanding of the course was off and we were ‘in with the masses’ for far longer than we expected. This made the trails busy and frustrating. There was a very long descend on the same terrain down into the next aid station which was in another town in the many valleys of the area. Matt saw an opportunity to visit the town hall and I waited for him at the aid station a little further along the main road. Here I had the cheekiest reminder of my bag drop situation. A volunteer saw my number and said “ahhh, you are the runner who didn’t get your bag / are waiting for your bag”. I said “yes, that is me!”. To which they politely but bluntly stated it wasn’t here either. I had to laugh. It was meant in the most helpful and supportive way, but with the language barrier it came like a slap to the face. Almost like hey you, guess what… I was able to see the funny side of this interaction at least.
After a short break we moved on. We were straight onto a pathed road. It was pretty much following this road for about 5km to the next aid station. Whilst not particularly scenic or enjoyable, the road did bring a bit of a change to the terrain and relieved a bit of the pressure on the feet and ankles which were now very sore and blistering.
At the next aid station we arrived to a mountain hut to the biggest welcome from the Lady running it. In broken English she reeled off all the things she could give us, including “Meat Soup”. She couldn’t understand our excitement when we repeated and clarified that she had soup with meat in it. She was saying everyone was reacting the same and she didn’t know why. We tried to explain how everywhere else the soup was terrible and even the thought of something more substantial was a blessing. Matt took one look at the meat and changed his mind (he did get a coffee, albeit a terrible one, it was the only aid station of the race that had hot drinks!). I took extra meat and enjoyed it with other runners like it was a last supper!
Steep climb ahead
We were soon back out on the course heading to the highest point of the race. We were joined by an American called Paul and spent the next few kms together chatting away. It was a very long and steep climb ibn the forest. One of the biggest of the course. The foliage here was so different to what we’d experienced previously with massive leafy plants covering the ground as we hiked up slowly. The higher we got, the steeper it became. We were leapfrogging with many other groups of runners who we’d spent most of the race near. Eventually the path broke out of the forest and up onto the mountain top. Way off in the distance we could see runners climbing higher and higher. There were many false summits as climbed to a museum on the summit. Around us the clouds were forming, darker and darker and the wind picking up. It was cold and a downpour felt imminent. We knew from here, once we reached the museum we would back track and descend quickly on a road.
a moment to breathesomewhere to the summit
There would be no time to stop and enjoy the view, we wanted to get lower before we got caught if the weather was going to change. I did however need to stop as I found a tick on the side of my lower leg. As I sat and tried to get it out I started cramping and needed Matt’s assistance. It was a big one, even with a tick removal tool and Matt pulling hard and me holding my skin tight it was putting up a fight. Then with a loud popping sound it came out. It was the biggest tick I’ve ever seen. Thankfully it came out intact! Matt went on (as it was cold) whilst I re-packed my bag and then ran after him.
It was a long but fast descent. We dropped about 600m over 4 km. First on switch back pathed roads, then switch back gravel trails before into a steep drop in the muddy forest. We made it down though before any weather changes hit us. It was a good mental boost. The afternoon was drawing to a close and before long the sun would start to set. The lower we could get before darkness the better and we were into the last 16 or so kms of the race now with only one more big climb left to do. We had a new mission to get that through before dark and get to lower altitude (below 1,500m) before needing our head torches for the final push.
The climb came and went. It must have been like all the others we’d encountered (the race profile has it as one of the more prominent climbs of the course!) but my memory of it was over shadowed by the descent that came next…
spectacular landscapes
We were about 1,900m up and had to drop about 600m. Way way down below we could see a dried up glacier bed. In it was a tent. It wasn’t an aid station but we guessed some volunteers/mountain support. It was a dot way off below, and we couldn’t see any obvious way down. It looked like we would just be dropping off the side of the mountain somewhere. And so we did. It was a very technical descent. Often we were scrambling on all fours. We were tired and it felt quite dangerous (it absolutely wasn’t though!) in our exhausted state. It was a real bruiser on the fatigued legs and ankles. Day light was quickly disappearing as we navigated our way down, being thankful that we weren’t doing this in the darkness guided only by our head torches. After descending about 600m in 2km we reached the rocky glacier bed. We were so glad that was over! A quick stop and chat with the volunteers and we headed across the rocky terrain into the forest again.
Down to the tent we headed
We now had a very short but mighty steep climb in the darkness of the forest. Our watches were telling us the gradient of the climb was over 40%. It was pitch black and we struggled to see and navigate the course through the wall of soil that we faced into. It was a very slow and tiring climb which we were glad to get to the top of. There was a lady as we exited onto some farm land. She gave us conflicting information as to the distance to the next aid station. The volunteers at the Glacier bed, this lady and our own understanding of the course all came up with radically different distances as to the location of the next aid station. it was confusing but ultimately didn’t matter, we had to keep moving forward.
We had another steep descent through dark slippery forest trails. we were moving pretty freely downhill and Matt did a terrific job of navigating through the darkness. Somewhere in front of us we could here a lady’s voice talking away. As we neared Matt could tell she was on the phone speaking Dutch. There was a rocky section navigating over and along a river and we caught up with the lady who was chatting to her dad for company in the loneliness of the forest. Matt could here she was a little uncomfortable on her own and that she’d told her father there were some other people around her now which made her feel safer. Still, we held back a little bit and gave her space. We then found ourselves arriving at a cabin in the forest and the final aid station.
From here we still somehow had 12km to go to the finish. That last section felt so much longer than it was. At the aid station there was more confusion. We believed we still had two climbs on the course before the descent back to Forno di Zoldo. The route profile displayed at the aid station suggested that the aid station was located after these two climbs we thought we had. Another runner and the aid station volunteers were also saying it was all downhill now with no more climbing. It didn’t feel right, but we took their words for it. The lady asked if she could run with us through the forest sections for company and the three of us set off chatting away. I think she was pleased to hear Matt speak Dutch and find out he lived in the Netherlands. It turned out this was her first 100km event (incredible effort!) and her dad was at the finish line waiting for her.
We ran down further back into the dark, dense forests before we found ourselves climbing (yep, we knew it!) on a very long grassy climb. No more climbs my arse! The trails were twisting and turning and our orientation was completely messed up now. We had no idea where we were going and would catch up with other runners who were stopping and checking their navigation. The trail markings were few and far between now and difficult to spot in the darkness. The grassy trail did lead us back up onto the side of a mountain where the terrain quickly become very rocky as we traversed a path around the mountain. To our left a sheer drop in the darkness. We plodded along as quickly as we could move over the rocks, determined to get this over an done with. The enjoyment had left us many hours earlier! I kept moaning “why are there always rocky sections so close to the end of races to torture us?!”. The rocky path then led steeply downhill as we found ourselves heading back into a forest.
We were on it now though. We were hustling with a decent pace as the forest trails become more substantial and gravel tracks started to dominate. We knew that we must be close now and sooner or later we’d hit a main road that would lead us back into the town. Then, it did. In the distance a head torch. It was the Dutch Lady’s father waiting for her. We ran on and were power hiking along a road when he whistled and called after us. We were just about to miss the turn on the road. It was a huge, wide turn but not obvious in the night. The markings were chalk arrows drawn on the road and easily missed in our tired state. Thankfully he was there to ensure we didn’t continue in the opposite direction to the finish!
The road was long and climbed a little as we found ourselves crossing fields and farm land of smaller residential areas behind the main town. Then we could see and here the lights just below us. We rounded the bend and had a few metres to the finish line which we crossed just as the heavens opened and the rain started hammering it down! Damn we were glad that was over!
Moments before Matt broke his medal
After the race we collected our Medals (which Matt dropped and broke 5 minutes later), were given a finishers jacket (although similar we later found ours are both different from one another – we suspect different versions/models of the same jacket) and then tried to get a “finishers gift from the sponsors” only to be told there were none left as they’d only provided them for half the runners. As suspected, there was confusion about buses and if any were running (we weren’t the only ones trying to find one) so decided to go have a shower, get into warm dry clothes (thankfully my Drop bag was indeed waiting for me!) and then get some food whilst we figured out how to get back to the hotel. After the shower Matt had his broken medal replaced whilst I went off and found out that there was no more food available (great). The only success was when Matt proactively went and flagged down a bus driver who personally took us back to the hotel.
Looking back… I did enjoy the race and having another adventure in the Dolomites but the experience was dampened by the few organisational mishaps we encountered. Since day one the confusion over the buses left a sour taste in my mouth. The frustration over the drop bag going missing made my run harder than it needed to be and meant I ran with a dark cloud in my head for half the race. The continuation of a poor experience at the finish line just reemphasised how crappy the organisation was. Why they stop serving hot (any!) food when runners are still out on the course and finishing blows my mind. I was also cheesed off that the organisers/sponsors provided some additional ‘gifts’/merchandise for only some runners. The number of gifts seemed to vary from social media posts and information at the finish and it also seemed like volunteers were reserving gifts. Everyone enters and participates in the same way, so to then offer extras on a first come first served basis whilst the race is still happening immediately puts the slower runners at an unfair advantage. Either provide enough for everyone or make it first come first served the day after the finish. I sound bitter, but it is the principle and the frustration of the wider experience I had on the Dolomiti Extreme Trail.
Of the two events I’ve done in the Dolomites, the Lavaredo Ultra Trail is by far the better of the two. Not just because of the experience, but the Lavaredo trail does take you through far more scenic parts of the Dolomites.
I was looking at this race by Embrace Ultra, the Three Castles 50k last year. I couldn’t make it so added it to the to do list. A year later I was able to join their second edition. By this point I was living a lot closer to Kent and have access to a car, so logistics were pretty straight forward for me. I had a 20 mile drive to the finish line where I could get the organised bus to the start.
Leading up to the event the organisers provided a load of helpful information and guidance for runners. It was a great start! Come the morning of the event, I arrived at 7am to the school in Tonbridge ready to get on the bus by 7:20 as instructed. We were waiting at car park/school for the buses and it all felt a little bit of a rush (we were told ‘don’t be there before 7 but be on the buses to leave by 7:20’). As we waited though, there were no buses, soon enough we could see them arrive and park up on the other side of the school. By the time they came over to us and we boarded it was 7:45 before we left the school grounds. This was quite good for me as I was in the second starting wave so would have less time waiting around at the start near Rochester Castle.
Rochester Castle, the backdrop to the startline
Registration was straightforward. After a short wait I had my number and tracker and started walking down to the start line. I was there with plenty of time and sat and listened to the wave 1 briefing and watch their start.
First wave of runners assembling
The race director gave plenty of information in the briefing and I heard him mention that the initial few miles of trail had single track. I made a note to try and start near the front of my wave and not get caught in a bottleneck. The waves were split roughly by expected finish time with under 5 hours in the first wave and over 5 hours in the second. I was thinking I’d get to the finish in about 6 hours, so didn’t want to get too caught up on the single tracks if I could help it.
Positioning myself towards the front of Wave 2
As we started I soon found myself running in a breakaway group of about 10 people. That worked out well for me. After a few kms it became a group of about 5 of us. We covered some road kilometres before hitting some trails as we ran under the M2 bridge. I recognised the bridge as the crossing you use on the NDW100. It made me smile now running under it.
After about 5k I was very surprised that we already caught up with a group of about 10 runners walking the route. I expected to catch up with some runners from the first wave throughout the day, but not this soon considering they started approximately 30 mins before us. They were very cheerful as we passed. I was doing the math in my head and thinking that they wouldn’t make the cut off at that pace…
The trails alongside the river were scenic as we made our way through the village of Wouldham and on towards Aylesford. They were hard packed underfoot and very dry and uneven in places. After about 13km we had our first aid station. I made a quick stop. There was plenty going on. Loads of sweet and savoury foods and great vibes and support from the volunteers. By this point I’d passed loads of runners from the previous wave too. I was moving up the field! I didn’t stop for long and got back out on the course and kept moving. The course was pretty much pancake flat so I thought I’ll keep running until I inevitable tire somewhere between 30 and 40k then switch to a run walk strategy.
Somewhere
After Aylesford we were back running along the river to Maidstone. I think we passed the second of the ‘three castles’ here but I can’t remember. It was very hot now and closer to midday. There were loads of riverside cafes and bars and plenty of cheers and support for runners. We crossed over to the other side of the river at Maidstone. Somewhere a volunteer was informing runners of what position they were in (as in how many had passed him anyway). He said something 130-odd as I went passed. If true, I really had been passing lots of people and the wave set up wasn’t that accurate/strict.
Somewhere else
Come the second aid station I was thinking I hadn’t seen another bib from the second wave for a while. But I was constantly around other runners. I took a bit longer at the second aid station and ate a few jam sandwiches to keep me fuelled. From here the rest of the route blurred in my memories. We basically ran all the way to Tonbridge following the river. Sometimes in the open on canal paths, sometimes on single track and forest trails. There was a third aid station in a camp site somewhere and I remember thinking it seemed to be a nice area for river sports. There were people swimming, kayaking and paddle boarding all day long.
As we reached Tonbridge it was getting busier and we ran a little bit through the town and by the castle. It was lovely and I made a mental note to come back one day and explore the area more. We then left the river for a loop of about 5km out and around the town to make our way back to the school. By now I’d slowed a fair bit. From 30ish km in my pace had dropped as I aimed to keep running. Over that last 5km I walked a few times to break it up. Specially as we had a few road sections. The last km or so along with he busy B road. By then I’d lost all interest in running.
Could be anywhere
I got back to the school and jogged around the track to the finish line. Job done. I was way ahead of my 6 hour target and actually closer to the 5 hour mark. I grabbed a hot dog and alcohol free beer and headed back to the car. Rather than faff with a drop bag for the finish I left my changes of clothes in the car. And rather than walk back to the school changing rooms I thought I’ll strip down in the car park. Little did I realise that I parked over looking the trail. Hopefully no one was greeted by my bare buttocks on that last climb to the school grounds!
Overall an excellent day out with great organisation by Embrace Ultra. Got my eye on their 100km loop in Kent later in the year now…
When I ran the Hangman ultra, the course followed a section of the Testway walking route. I liked it so I looked it up after the race. It runs from Linkenholt down to Totton (just outside Southampton). Soon after I came across the Testway Ultra by Andover Trail Events and added it to the list of things to do.
Darryl signed up to the race with me and we decided to park a car at the the finish so we could make our own way back to the start rather than faff with timings of the shuttle bus service offered. We stayed overnight in Andover (proper shit hole) where we saw things we’d never seen before. A very odd place. On the morning of the race we drove over to the Linkenholt Activity Centre for about 7:30. After a straightforward registration we sat in the car to keep and waited until everyone started lining up just before 8 before joining them. The morning had a bitterly cold chill to it with a crisp wind blowing hard.
Colder than it looked
The first 10miles of the route was a loop out of the Activity Centre and up over to Combe Hill where the Combe gibbet is. I remembered this well from the Hangman Ultra where the gibbet was the ‘turnaround’ point. There were a few small hills on this loop and we quickly racked up pretty much all of the elevation of the course before the first aid station when we arrived back at the Activity Centre.
Combe Gibbet
We stopped briefly to eat some cocktail sausage and empty a few small stones from my shoe. On leaving the aid station we re-joined the Test Way and followed it south to Longparish. I knew this whole section from the Hangman Ultra too. We’d pass through little villages, farms, up a few little climbs and follow single track footpaths along the top of the hills.
There was another aidstation after about 10 more miles where we ate more cocktail sausages (if you’re not a meat eater, the aid stations on this event aren’t designed for you!) and carried on to Longparish. I kept recognising points of interest that triggered memories and recalled the section arriving into Longparish. We carried on through and upon leaving the village we got chatting to two guys who’d arranged an ‘unofficial, bonus’ aid station outside their house. They had all sorts including pizza. This was by far the best of all the aid stations. We stocked up when they told us it was still about 5 miles to the next official aid station. So this section was the longest of them all. We needed the bonus stop as it was now very hot, almost 20 degrees and we were starting to drink a lot more fluid that need been used to in the colder weeks preceding the race.
scenic
Leaving Longparish we had a few miles of very scenic trails with more beautiful villages, countryside trails and open commons. Eventually we came to the next aid station, joked with the volunteers for a few minutes and fuelled up for the ‘second half’ of the race. The 30 miles we had so far covered had been varying in terms of terrain and undulating throughout. The next 20 miles would be pretty much dead flat the whole way to the finish line.
After a few kilometres we came into Stockbridge and joined a straight gravel track running parallel to the main road and river. It was hard going. We covered about 12 miles on this path breaking it up into a run walk strategy. Our legs ached and our muscles were tightening with the lack of variation and general fatigue setting in.
Test way!Painfully flat
For hours we had been entertaining ourselves with a guessing game. One of us would think of an actor and the other had to guess using nothing but clues based on films they had been in and characters they had portrayed. By now we were both struggling and finding it hard to think of actors or mixing up clues and characters. It passed the time for many hours and kept us going though!
All smiles
Thankfully we did leave the gravel track and spent a short while running on softer ground through grassy fields before reaching another aid station. Here I managed to knock a whole box of brownies and flapjacks onto the floor. I felt so bad. We didn’t hang around long after that! Whilst at the aid station a load of runners came in shortly behind us. It messed with my mind a bit. I felt like we’d had a strong section and hadn’t seen many other runners. Whilst on the gravel trail, then all of a sudden loads passed us and I felt a bit deflated. Darryl was right though, it made no difference to us nor our adventure. For a while we followed two other runners, One in red and one in purple. We enjoyed Their little battle and followed closely as they kept leapfrogging each other for a few miles. We were all shuffling and walking now. There wasn’t any speed involved!
Thankfully the trails were much nicer once we’d left that dreaded gravel path behind. We followed single track trails through fields, woodlands and alongside the rivers all the way down to Romsey and the M27. Here we had a final aid station which we knew was only a few miles to the finish. It was a good boost. We were exhausted now, sun kissed from the exceptionally warm weekend and drained from the flat terrain. We plodded on.
the boardwalk at the Lower Test Nature Reserve
After red top guy missed a turn we found ourselves in-between him and the purple top guy. There were some overgrown bramble covered trails as we made our way onto the Lower Test nature reserve and ran over the boardwalk and into Totton. Once we got through Testvale park we were clapped into the finish line as we ran around the library and into the finish at Empire Hall. We took a picture by the bins before heading back to the car, getting changed and driving all the way back to the start to collect the other car.
Finishing by the bins
It was an enjoyable day on the Test Way and great as always to catch up with Darryl, push the body on a 50mile run and enjoy and experience somewhere new. The organisation was good and the course exceptionally well marked.
After a long week of travelling ‘up North’ with work, I dropped by Nick’s on the way back through London, borrowed his car and drove to Carl’s and then back to mine. A quick pizza, unpacking the week’s bag and hastily packing a bag for the run (including ripping the zip off my Salomon pack) and it was straight to bed ready for an early wake up.
We left home just before 6am to get to Queen Elizabeth Country Park for 7am, a whole hour before the race was due to start. To our frustration we were told the car parking was already full and we needed to use the public parking a few hundred metres away. When we got there that too was full and we had to drive further along and park near Gravel Hill. It was a whole 30 mins later by the time we got back to register. I was a little frustrated by the situation. The race organisers did email and mention parking could overflow and that we’d need to use the public parking. But to have both car parks already full an hour before the start wasn’t expected. Clearly they haven’t secured enough for the size of the event.
Carl is there too I promise!
Anyway… moaning aside, onwards. Registration was brief and we now only had to wait a short while in the ice cold morning before the race started. It was a small group of runners in the 50km, as it was the 50mile race that started 30 mins before us. We started right at the back of the group as we ran through the start arch and back down towards where the car was parked. Here in QECP we went up into the forests near the main visitor centre before crossing over to and up Gravel Hill and the first of many many climbs of the day.
As we ran through QECP the trails were mostly gravel and hard packed. As we left the park we had a number of long road sections connecting between short trails. We both started to regret our choice of aggressive footwear expecting more mud and softer ground conditions.
Hard packed trails
It was a nice start though and whilst cold, the short sharp hills helped us warm up quickly as we made our way slowly through the pack. Time moved quite quickly in the cold, grey misty mornings as we talked away and caught up on the months of life changes since we last saw each other. After about 10km we passed the first (last) 50 mile runner who was walking slowly with the sweepers a few paces behind him. We assumed he was injured and pushing on to the next aid station as he was moving so slowly. The course had 4 aid stations and the first was 11 miles or so in. I liked this. It’s always nice to get a good chunk of the race done before the first stop!. We left the trails and out into the village of Rowlands Castle. In a small hall the aid station gave us warmth, albeit little else. The event emails talked fondly of the quality and quantity of food options that would be available at aid stations. This one certainly didn’t reflect that. A solitary portion of cake, small paper cups (think sauce portions at a fast food chain size) of two or three crisps, a few skittles and singular wrapped ‘celebration’ chocolates (why these were separated into paper cups I do not know!). It was a poor show. I assume the 50 mile runners had feasted well before us. Thankfully we didn’t have long, just 4 miles, to the next one. We ate a few snacks, refilled waters and headed off.
Carl setting the pace
The stop cooled us down so the gloves were on and we moved with purpose again to warm up as we traced back through the village. We passed Jamie, who I’d met on several other events too. He was braving the elements for the 50miler. My memory of the course soon becomes as blurry as the race conditions. I recall the route becoming much more trail and less road and our aggressive footwear came in more favourably. We passed many runners who were moving more slowly with the muddy, slippery conditions. The next aid station came so quickly and was much better with many savoury options and was better stocked than the previous. We took a few moments and chatted with the volunteers before moving on as it was outside and cold.
The next section was 7 miles long and we made it longer with a bit of a navigation mishap. We’d been running through a big open space passing many 50 miler runners and were discussing how we hadn’t reached the course split yet. We talked about the extra 30km loop they had to make and whether we were glad we weren’t doing that course. Shortly after the fields, on a single track we came to a trail cross road and the path opened up. We followed runners straight and up the hill ahead. I remember looking at walker with their dogs to our right as we crossed the trails. We were deep in conversation. Further along as the hill levelled out we caught the attention of the runner ahead who missed the turn and helped him back on track. At this point we realised we were ourselves off track. He confirmed that there was a turn a while back for the 50km. Doh. Damnit. We back tracked, passing loads of runners we’d passed before walking up the hill in the opposite direction. And there it was, a little over half a km back, at the damn cross Road in the trails where the dog walker was. We’d missed two very big and clear direction signs for the course split. Back on track we laughed at our mistake and carried on down the trail on a lovely descent. We caught back up with many of the 50k runners we’d passed previously. One even comment how we kept overtaking her. Our explanation made her laugh.
The next aid station at Compton came about and once again we were indoors and had a chance to warm up. Here there were all the promised goods and various sandwiches too which were very much needed. We ate a few then headed back out in the now very wet day. The misty rain had been getting progressively heavier throughout the day and soon we had to make the decision to cover our wet bodies with a waterproof coat. Whilst we wouldn’t be dry, we did start to get warmer finally. Here the course took us up higher onto the South Downs and visibility was piss poor. It was hard to spot the trail markers so we followed our gps instead and were soon running down a very wet, slippery steep hill. There were loads of slid marks from runners who’d clearly slipped their way down. Our great grippy trainers kept us upright though. We were on the last stretch now and the final 10 miles ticked off quickly as we continued chatting non stop all day. The undulating terrain forced us to a run walk approach which I was most grateful for. For hours we hadn’t caught up with any other runners but knew we had a group not far behind us.
Awesome views
We kept a pretty decent pace and passed through the final aid station at South Harting, after winding our way through the village streets, quite quickly, keen to get finished and make our way home. A few km later we passed through the lovely little village of Buriton and began a long climb back into forests and realised we’d made our way back to QECP. Before we knew it we were tracing our steps from earlier in the day.
The last few kms were longer than we’d remembered. We came down near Grave Hill, passed the parked car and onward to the finish where we came into the event space to cheers from a few volunteers, we took our medals and headed straight into the tent to get warm. A warm soup with bread and zero % beer perked us up before we had the cold 10 min walk back to the car. With freezing hands we got changed outside before driving home with the heating on.
It was a great day out with Carl. The conditions and weather made for a tough day and it took longer than I thought. It was a decent event and whilst well organised I thought a few things could have been improved (the parking situation annoyed me and the course markings could have been better for a ‘fully signposted’ course). That was the first race of the year and I’m excited now for the planned adventures that await!
Run With Dai 