A looped course is probably my favourite type of route. A big ol’ loop being a preference and one that circles a particular place/town/point of interest being the cherry on the cake. The Big Way Round by Big Feat events does just that – a 50km loop around the historic town of Winchester.
It has been a very long time since I ran near Winchester, possibly even as far back as when I did the Race to the King which finished at the cathedral back in 2018! I was keen to get another 50kish distance in the diary as early as I could, it really is time to keep on top of the running and build for the events to come in summer. This event was perfect timing on the May Bank Holiday and also allowed me to do a longer run on the Saturday before so I could have a big weekend but still have a little rest in between. Likewise for Natalia it was sandwiched between her London Marathon and North Downs Way 50 events, so no rest for her either.
Front of the start wave!
We arrived early, registered and sat in the car until they started releasing runners. With multiple different race distances, they started runners in self selected waves based on rough pace. We started towards the back and over the first few kilometres found ourselves overtaking runners ahead of us. We weaved through the town, then along side the river as we went through Saint Catherine’s Hill Nature Reserve. It was beautiful here and the cold morning started warming up as we reached the trails.
For most of the day we were treated to glorious, tranquil trails like those of the South Downs, Itchen Way and Watercress Way footpaths. There were a lot of fields, a few long tarmac road sections and beautiful small villages like Itchen, Easton and Abbotts Worthy. My entertainment from the day came from shouting out house names as we ran through the villages and gaping in awe as we ran through the impressive grounds of Lainston House (a hotel).
we picked the most colour-less field!Big Grins on the Big Way Round
As always with Big Feat the support and volunteers were fantastic. Each aid station welcoming with a good spread of options to keep runners fuelled and motivated. The course itself full of great countryside views and undulating trails until the last 4kms or so where you run back through Winchester towards the rugby club.
After the Tenerife BlueTrail was cancelled, I had a burning desire to find a replacement adventure. There were two driving forces – firstly filling the ‘gap’ and overcoming the disappointment of not getting to use my energy in Tenerife. And secondly, I need the training and mountain exposure… whilst out in Tenerife I was fortunate enough to get a place in TOR330 through the third and final allocation of places. If you’re not familiar with it, it is Tor Des Geants, a 330km run in the Aosta valley, Italy with an elevation gain of about 25000m. It’s not a stage race, so you complete it in one go, but you are able to manage your own sleeping needs at the ‘life bases’ every 50km or so over the 6 days you have to complete the run. Naturally this terrifies me and I’ve not got long to get into better shape to tackle that race. So mountain exposure is a must!
I quickly found the Sierra Nevada event that was in two weeks time. It ticked the boxes on logistics accessibility, dates, elevation and terrain, oh and places were still available. So I signed up to the Ultra which was about 95km in distance. Sierra Nevada ultra is a little unique in that unlike most races, it has a noticeable difference in elevation gain and loss across the route. Whilst we’d climb about 5000m in total, we’d descend much less (about 1500m less) as the race was point-to-point finishing at a ski resort.
There is a specific kind of atmosphere at an ultra start line. You arrive often in the dark, heart thumping with nerves and excitement, surrounded by a hive of activity. At the Sierra Nevada Ultra, the atmosphere was electric—music was pumping, and a foam machine filled the air with white clouds, and spectators were forming a human tunnel of support that stretched well beyond the start pens. But as soon as the countdown began, the party was over, the nerves dissipated and the work began…
The start was fast and frantic. We surged out of town on main roads, quickly gaining elevation as the city lights began to shrink behind us. The night was strange—warm but whipped by a persistent cold wind. As we transitioned from the roads into the natural parks, the views were breath taking, even in the dark; looking down at the shimmering grid of the city from the dark silence of the trails is a perspective you only get at these hours.
As always, one of the best parts of the early miles was the company. I spent some time chatting with a few people including a Dutch lady tackling her first ultra. We started chatting after a slight wrong turn and me stopping to take a photo of a goat in the night, it took me a while to determine it was a statue! She was absolutely smashing it—so much so that in the final stages of the race, she came flying past me on an uphill. Watching that kind of strength blows my mind.
The first 60km were, dare I say, lovely? The Terrain: Wide, runnable paths that invited speed. The Rhythm: Long, steady inclines followed by flowing descents. This allowed for a faster than usual pace to be held for longer. I hit Pinos Genil, 60km in, about 9.5 hours, feeling strong enough to not worry about time and take a proper reset with my drop bag and take on some much-needed fuel. Although, the cold pasta was difficult to eat.
At this point, about 2/3 of the route in, the Sierra Nevada decided to show its teeth. The “runnable” trails vanished, replaced by more rocky terrain and some technical descents that demanded concentration and a more cautious pace. At one point we skirted a massive, stunning reservoir, but the beauty was just a brief distraction from the mounting vertical gain.
Great views
Then came the finale: the climb into the Pradollano ski resort. Due to incoming bad weather, the organizers earlier made the call to cut the route short, skipping the highest peak. Honestly? I was glad. The climb that remained was still one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.
We strapped on our crampons and began the relentless slog up the ski slopes. This wasn’t “walking”; it was a battle of attrition. The snow was soft, and with every step, I’d sink to my ankles a slide backwards a fraction. It was slow, draining, and heavy. It felt never ending and full of false dawns as we’d turn a corner and climb some more.
By the time I reached the top of that slope, I was done with the mountain. I took a pause and caught my breathe and then I didn’t hold back on the descent—I just let loose, flying down the slushy incline with everything I had left. I wanted off that slope and across that finish line. The descent took a fraction of the time.
Forced smiles before descending to the finish
The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. As I crossed the finish, the heavens finally opened, and the rain came pouring down. I quickly got changed in the streets of the resort and found the bus back into Granada. A massive shout-out to the organizers. From the logistics to the incredible finishers’ jacket (which I’ll be wearing with pride), they put on a class event.
They say you find your kind, I found them with running. For this one it was my friend Gif who planted the seed for the Brutaal 80. A friend of hers, whom she crewed on UTMB CCC, was the organiser / Race Director for the event. As always, it didn’t take much convincing for me to join, though I made sure I roped Matt into the adventure with me with me.
We arrived in Belgium expecting a classic “experience”: knee-deep mud and relentless grey skies. Instead, the universe gave us a gift: blue skies, dry trails, and warm winds. I’m very glad it did!
The course for the Brutaal 80 is self-navigation on a sort of distorted clover-leaf design: three distinct loops (roughly 20km, 40km, and 20km) all returning to the same central hub at Domaine de Palogne which is a restaurant and adventure type centre.
Registration opened about 5:00 am and we arrived shortly after 5:30 to check in and drop our bags at the race hub. There’s always a specific kind of atmosphere at the start of an ultra. This time runners huddled around a crackling fire pit in the pitch black and frosty cold morning, listening to the RD brief us on the “challenges” ahead. With less than 70 runners It felt intimate, simple, and adventurous.
Loop 1: “The Playful One” (approx. 20km & D+420m)
Tagged as the ideal warm up loop, we started with a punchy little climb followed by a slightly technical descent. Perhaps we were a bit too eager; we followed the lead pack right into a wrong turn, forcing an impromptu off-track scramble just to get back on route. This route took us on a circle around Mont des Pins and back along the Ourthe river to Domaine de Palogne.
My highlights of the first 20k were:
Misty open fields that felt like a dreamscape as the dusty/hazy sun rose in the morning.
The short journey through the hamlet of Ozo
The River crossing where we went over knee deep in ice cold water
The first pass through the charming village of Bomal.
Crossing the footbridge back to “base” as we arrived back to the start, finishing the first loop
At the aid station we shed our jackets and restock for the big one – Loop 2.
Image from race photographer Caroline Dupont
Loop 2: “The Brutal One” (approx. 40km & D+970m)
This was the meat of the race. “playtime is over!” as the race briefing put it. It started cold and confusing, with some route-finding puzzles that landed us in the mud by the riverbank. I was navigating separate GPX routes for each loop, but Matt’s watch couldn’t differentiate which loop he was on as he loaded a single file of the whole route. Along the riverbank we weren’t running as we were clambering over fallen trees and through thick, clay like mud. Matt took a spectacular slip which he struggled to get back up from. There was also a few steep climbs including one which felt like we were in a jungle, perfectly dense forest and only the sounds of our breathing and birds chirping away.
By the time we hit the halfway aid station of this loop, the sun was out in full force. The views from the high ridges were stunning, but the heat started to bite. Our legs began to protest, and the final 10km of this loop became a game of power-walking and grit. Towards the end of the loop we passed by a bat cave we’d seen signposted and finally rolled back into camp for some energy-boosting hot soup. Delicious.
My highlights of the second loop were:
Matt struggling to steady himself as he slid in the sticky mud
Briefly chatting with some other runners and being passed by the lady who’d go on to be first female
The fallen tree we clamoured up in the ‘jungle’ – steps had been expertly carved into the trunk!
The small town of Hamoir and the aid station where we chatted to the organiser.
Finally finishing the last 10km which seemed to take us forever!
The great Tomato soup!
Once more, back at Domaine de Palogne, we readied ourselves for the final loop.
Soup!! Image from Race Photographer Caroline Dupont
Loop 3: “The Until The Bitter End One” (approx. 22km & D+480m)
The evening was dimming as we ran the final 20km. The evening light was incredible as we navigated long, sloping farm roads with great views over the surrounding region. After an initial, long sloped incline we re-joined the long straight we’d navigated on the second loop and found ourselves by the communications tower – a landmark we’d see before and would see again! Here we began the “leapfrog” phase of the race. You’d pass a group, they’d pass you; we were all in the same boat now, plodding towards the finish line.
Towards the end of the loop the sting in the tail was that we had to run passed the accommodation at which we were staying and the terrain became a little more rocky with two short sharp climbs left to overcome – the first involving steps that made our quads scream and the second as we climbed and looped around Fort de Logne, just a few hundred metres from the finish line!
My highlights of the second loop were:
Moving with a bit more purpose knowing we were on the final stretch of the race
The gentle climbs that gave us a chance to walk, talk, breathe and enjoy the last of the daylight
Keeping the majority of the ‘pack’ of runners at bay for the last few kms
Finishing!
Once back at Domaine de Palogne, we were cheered in and across the line by the organisers and Gif and Reka who’d come to see us finish.
We finished the race with some more Tomato soup and then drove off in search of fries!
For an inaugural event, the Brutaal 80 nailed it. It was simple, the runners were genuinely cared for, and the course offered a bit of everything. It would however be a different beast and live up to its name if it was wet and muddy as we expected it to be. A real challenge in different conditions!
Moving to Caterham a year ago, I came across the Tandridge border Path signs on many of my runs. I came up with the plan to run the loop in one go. Originally, I was planning on doing it in the summer, but life got in the way. So, one year to the day I moved I set off to run the border path…
I added a few km to the route so that I could start and finish at home. With this in mind I choose the edge of Coulsdon as my starting point for the loop and then to run it in the clockwise direction (there is no official start or end or intended direction to the loop). This seemed to be the closest and most direct place for me to join the path from home. Having plotted the route and the extra to join it, I was off on a 93km adventure.
Rydons Lane at the start of the TBPTBP signs
I set off in the darkness of the first Saturday of 2026 at around 05:00 and reached the first signs for the Border path in Coulsdon Common just before it loops around Kenley airfield. It was approximately 05:30 now as I started navigating the path from Rydon lane, initially on a section of the London loop. The roads to get here were covered in ice and I proceeded slowly with caution not to slip.
Immediately I took a wrong turn and hopped over a gate into a field where I was confronted with a large black animal charging at me. In my sleepy state I didn’t see it until the last minute. Thankfully it was an excited horse. I think it wanted help escaping. Shortly after I realised my mistake and I back tracked over the fence and onto the correct path.
Mentally I’d broken the route into roughly 20km sections. I hoped to get to Tatsfield and the near the North Downs way for day break. Most of the initial section was very familiar to me as the path takes you Through Whyteleafe, up near Riddlesdown (where I enjoyed beautiful views of London way off in the distance and the big moon glowing above me) then over to Farleigh and Fickleshole. These first paths were backed with a soundtrack of owls and pheasants in the dark forests. As I ran through some fields tens and tens or pheasants shot up into the sky like numerous missiles being launched.
Sunrise near the North DownsFields at night
I had another dodgy animal encounter as I crossed into a footpath running through a farm at Chelsham. Previously here I’ve been chased by some very territorial geese as the footpath crosses the farmland. This time it was a big black dog barking deeply, and with feet on the stile I needed to cross. I took a few minutes staring him down and reassuring him. Surprisingly once I was in the farm, he stopped barking, although I was still on alert. Then, as I neared Tatsfield the sky was starting to warm with glowing orange and red colours of daybreak. My first section was done!
Snow covered fieldsClearest sign for the TBP
The path takes you very briefly along the North Downs Way at Chestnut Avenue before a long stretch of road down Clacket Lane sees you cross the M25 as you make your way towards Limpsfield Common and High Chart. Here daylight took over and the darkness of night gave way.
I found kms 20-40 slower going as the path takes you through a lot more farmland. The terrain was uneven and at times difficult to more quickly on. The fields were snow covered and hardened with the frost beneath. Tentatively I couldn’t tell if there was frozen sections that would give way as I trudged along. Much of this section is along the Vanguard Way before you leave it and head West just North of East Grinstead. But not until after one of the larger, longer climbs on the route by Dry Hill.
As you Navigate around East Grinstead the route takes you towards Dormans Park where you pass the train station (a good potential place to join the path if travelling from elsewhere!). After Dormans the route heads towards one of the more built-up areas near Felbridge. I was around 55km in at this point. I’d planned a diversion to a petrol station, deviating from the path for a km to reach it. This was the only viable place for me to fill up with water and access more food if needed. There are no public taps along the route that I could identify when planning and the few pubs/village stores you pass weren’t options for me due to opening times. I was glad to reach the petrol station and top up on water (I had more than enough food with me), however the stop made me cold, very cold, so I tried not to stay for too long and carried on.
Planes landingFishing Lake
With the detour and navigating around Felbridge there were quite a lot of icy road sections. Then, from 60-70km the paths were much wetter, saturated with water and mud. My feet were now wet and freezing. There was a nice section just after Felbridge as you ran around a lake set up for fishing activities. Here the path is still heading West as you near Gatwick and head directly under the flight path of landing planes. Somewhere around the 65km mark (for me) the path edges closer to the M23 and you start heading North as you pass through Burstow. Here the path was unidentifiable and I trudged through frozen, waterlogged fields. The ground was almost indistinguishable as the water had frozen. My shins were shredded by overgrown thorns sticking out and from breaking through the ice layer as I waded through the field, some points almost knee deep in the water. I was glad to eventually find my way out of these fields and back to more obvious paths.
A few km later you near Smallfield (there is another option of a short detour to a Co-Op here if needed) and then shortly later I was back on familiar territory as I reached Outwood, another place with loads of trails and places to run/walk. I pretty much knew my way from here. The path heads North, passing by Redhill, crossing the M23 (note that there is clear access along the marked public footpath through then through the Kings Lodge Care complex) and heading North through Nutfield and up to Merstham (through/around Mercers lake). This felt like a long stretch.
London Way off in the distanceSunset looking South from the North Downs
As I reached the M25 crossing and rejoined the North Downs Way again I was presented with a glorious sunset. It felt quite fitting to see the sun rise and set over the North Downs Way! Passing back through Chandon there was a short detour (the footpath was diverted for animal grazing) before I entered Happy Valley and ran back through Coulsdon Common to where I completed the Tandridge Border Path loop at Rydon’s lane. I kept running and made it home just inside 13 hours covering just under 93km. Happy with that!
Back at Rydons Lane
Overall it was a great day. The icy roads made for slow progress and, despite the frozen fields being difficult to run at times, I was glad it was dry and not muddy like these trails could be in worse weather. It’s a great way to explore and see more of Tandridge whilst connecting some trails I’ve become so familiar with.
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!
Run With Dai 