runners life – Run With Dai

Drielandenpunt Trail

Published on February 13, 2024 by runwithdai2 Comments

It has taken far too long, but finally I got around to visiting Matt out in the Netherlands for a run on trails more local to him. Over the weekend Matt and Lara treated us like royalty, putting us up for the night, feeding us, driving us to the race and putting up with our tourist commentary.

The race was the 50km Drielandenpunt Trail in Vaals, in the southern part of the Netherlands, in a park area known as Drielandenpunt, which is the three country point. This is where the three borders of the Netherlands, Belgium and Germany meet. The race is mostly in the Netherlands but the course twists and weaves its way into Belgium at several points and also tracks along the border with Germany.

The night before we stayed nearby and had the shittest risotto known to man. It was a real talking point that someone is capable of making such a bad risotto. Alas, being the non confrontational type we ate it and kept our mouths shut. After all it did serve the purpose of a meal and it’s not like we need high quality food before running an ultra. In the morning we made the short drive up the ‘hill’ to Vaalserbeg which is the highest point in the Netherlands at about 322m, near the three country point. Here is where the race would start and finish. I suppose not many running races will both start and finish at the highest point in a country! We registered and messed around taking pictures on the tri-point where the borders of the three countries meet, crossing between the countries and back in a matter of seconds. We then said goodbye to Natalia who’d start her 30km race an hour later. After the quickest starting line up ever, Matt and I set off.

Within minutes of starting the run I was overheating. It was a wet day with a constant drizzle of rain, but, with just the wind jacket on I was too hot, so opted to continue the run in just the t-shirt and sleeves (I probably gave myself a cold as a result, but it was very stuffy in the forests). It was instantly noticeable how, muddy the trails were, how narrow the forest paths were and how surprisingly hilly it was. With a total elevation of 1400m elevation across the course, it was very much a series of short steep climbs and descents with very few flat bits in between. The course, mud aside, is rather runnable although my fitness levels meant I didn’t run a single one of the hills! The first part of the course was a 14km loop to the south. We had some great views of some very grey, overcast skies (‘m sure on a better day there are views to be enjoyed) and made the first of numerous dips into Belgium. This was my first time visiting Belgium. I think it counts as a visit!

Towards the end of the loop we left the forest and ran (trudged!) through some very muddy fields. I laughed as the person ahead kept falling over whilst my Inov8 X-Talons were excellent for ensuring I stayed on two feet, I was so glad with my choice of shoe! We then had a one of the bigger climbs (at just shy of 100m) back up to Vaalserbeg and the start line which would now serve as our first aid station.

From here it was more of the same with forest trails undulating as we ran alongside Germany. Drielandenpunt is a beautiful area with many, many intersecting trails for hiking and biking. It reminded me of the Surrey Hills area with endless twists, turns, short sharp descents and muddy climbs. Overtime the trails all blurred into one and it wasn’t long before I was completely disorientated and had no idea where we’d come from or which direction we were heading in.

After another 13km or so we arrived at the second check point where we were spoilt with ham and/or cheese sandwiches. These went down a treat and we both stuffed our faces and enjoyed a few moments of rest (although standing around we got very cold very quickly). By now we had been passed by a lot of runners. It felt like nearly the whole field had passed us as well as many of the 3okm runners. We were enjoying the day though, chatting our way round the whole course and catching up (some how it had already had been 8 months since our last run together in Lofoten).

Throughout the day Matt was sharing all his knowledge and facts, particularly at key points on the course like when we ran through the vineyards and he gave me a crash course in the history of Dutch wine production. It was a welcome distraction from the muddy trails! Throughout the run I recall the course being fantastically marked and sign posted, the aid stations being well stocked and the ground being a slushy mud fest – there were several more fields that were really muddy and a few little picturesque towns that we weaved through connecting the trails together. After another 15km or so we’d made our way back to the second aid station location for our final stop. With a quick top up and refuel we set back out.

We were on the home stretch now and had finally stopped being overtaken by runners. We commented that we didn’t think that we overtook a single person in the race. Towards the end of the course that changed with a steep muddy descent causing a few other runners to have trouble descending. We sped and slid our way down and claimed about 4 places in one short movement. From here it was a gentle jog into the finish line where we passed with an American we’d shared a few moments with earlier in the day. The ‘international finish’ as the MC dubbed it as an Aussie, American and Welshman crossed the line together.

We opted to skip the ‘city wash’ showers and just throw on dry clothes to start the long journey back to Amsterdam as quickly as possible. This was hindered a little bit by the inaccessible finance system in the Netherlands where many stores don’t accept Visa or credit cards as a payment method. To buy a portion of chips we needed to call Matt and have him come pay for us!

Overall a thoroughly enjoyable weekend in the Netherlands and a great adventure in the forests. Drielandenpunt is worth a visit! Personally, after a few months of inactivity it was good to finally be back out and running long distances. Now I just need to find the fitness before the bigger events that are fast approaching….

“It’s Hell Up There”

Published on May 31, 2023 by runwithdai3 Comments

Hell might be colder than we think…

In the shadow of Bran Castle, night time home of the legendary Count Dracula, on the outskirts of the Bucegi Natural park, we gather in the castle grounds, a few hundred eager runners waiting to a techno remixed beat of the theme music from Game of Thrones. The darkness is ours and it’s almost time to run the Transylvania 100k. A race that has been on my wish list since I started ultra running.

We set off out of the castle gates and along the main road before turning onto an unsealed road that was long and gradually inclined. We continued along until the foot of the mountains and stepped into the forest. The trails hit us with an immediate change in gradient and fresh smells front the pine trees and morning songs from the birds. It was enchanting.

From about 6km in, the trails became steeper again and my breaths were becoming more pronounced. The climb was long but broken up as we emerged into an opening above the trees before climbing along the side of the mountains. The views were spectacular as we traversed the first of many snow slopes.

The further we climbed the more the clag set in and visibility dropped. We were greeted at a timing point by some Marshalls who were blowing whistles, I assume to signal their whereabouts. I was with Carl and we decided this was a good time to layer up. We were glad of the wind to cool us down but we were now rather high up in the mountains!

We then proceeded to descend. The terrain was slippery with the snow. The trails were single track and narrow. We carefully placed our feet in the footprints of runners who had tread the path before us, crisscrossing our steps. The descent hit some forest and became very steep and difficult to descend due to sharp rocks and narrow gaps.

We emerged to the sound of a vuvuzela (an irritating sound!) being blown as we arrived at the first aid station. The aid station was understandable busy but well stocked with a variety of salty and sweet offerings. We took a moment to take on some fuel knowing that a ‘bit of a climb’ was coming our way. We started talking to a camera man. He welcomed us to the race and told us a little of the mountains and Omu – the peak we would soon visit. He pointed to the monster looming in the clouds to our left. He told us it was raining up top and that it was ‘like hell up there’ (where we were going). He laughed. We laughed nervously too, but we could tell he was being very serious.

From the aid station the climbing started straightaway. First easy along some rocks then long, slow treks along the snow fields at Tiganesti. I remember commenting how still everything was. The air. The sounds. It was like a vast emptiness. Just nothing. It was ever so peaceful and strangely hypnotic. We saw a paw print that we hoped was a bear (I did want to see one!). We were edging closer to the infamous Hornul Mare chimney (the iconic line up to Omu from the Malaiesti Valley). It’s notorious for its steep, difficult ascent with a gradient close to 50degrees. No picture will do it justice.

We decided to ‘spike up’ and put on our micro spikes. So glad we did. We could see other runners struggling without. We started chatting to a Dutch guy who was equally pleased he brought his spikes with him.

As we reached the bottom of the chimney it’s majesty was hidden in the mist. Perhaps a good thing. It took a while to climb. Up top a photographer greeted those who triumphed and climbed the beast. The smiles and jubilations where clearly seen on everyone’s faces. The views, despite being limited by the clouds were still pretty great.

After reaching Omu we began descending. First carefully along little snow slopes. Then as we got lower and the sun came out the trails dried into hard tracks with big rocks to scramble over. I started getting cramp in my hamstring. I knew I needed to up my fuelling when we next stopped!

As the trails became greener we did a little bushwhacking and later reached a river crossing and a wooden rope bridge that was very wobbly. A few of the 50km lead runners started passing us. This blew my mind. They’d completed the first big climb and the chimney section in about 2 hours compared to our 5 and a bit. How the hell did they climb the chimney so quickly?! From here a short jog to the next aid station. I checked my watch and timings and we were pretty much bang on the estimated time of arrival here.

From this point the routes went different ways. So at 27km it was time to say good bye to Carl as he went off on the 80km. My Climb started easy enough as we followed dirt tracks back towards the mountains with great views ahead of the snow capped peaks. Further up the roar of a beautiful waterfall started to dominate the air. To its right was another steep beast of a snow climb. I put the spikes back on and set off for it.

Up top, once conquered, it was a case of traversing more long snow fields as we made the way back towards Omu for a second summit. This time it started to get very steep. There were lots of runners up ahead in the distance. I managed to get passed some who didn’t have spikes and were struggling in the snow. Before the steepest part of the climb it started raining. It only rained for about 20-30 minutes but it was enough to dampen the mood. I thought that might be it and that it would rain non-stop as storms were forecast for later in the day.

As I was nearing the top of the climb I was confused. There were runners going in both directions. The confusion was because we joined the bit of route we previously came down along from Omu. I tried going the wrong way but was told off. I laughed with the Marshalls back at Omu summit when I questioned if we went that way earlier. Anyway. Time to descend the mountain again…

Here things went a little sour. The route down was spectacular but just snow slopes. Steep ones. I started down tentatively. Trying to find the best and safest line between the snowy sections and connecting to those rocks/paths not covered in snow. To the best I could I would follow runners ahead.

happy before things went wrong on the descent into the valley

After a little while I was following two guys tentatively crossing a little snow slope. They both slipped slightly. Then I slipped more. I went down. At first I wasn’t worried, thinking my spikes and/or poles would help stop me. But I started gaining momentum. My poles hit the snow. They dug in deep and snapped as my momentum carried me on faster and faster. One went pop then moments later the other did the same. One pole ripped the glove (Leki glove system) off my hand, the other pole snapped clean off at the lower section). I saw a mound of rock and thought it would stop me. It didn’t. I was propelled in the air. I thought this might end badly. Somehow, I came to a stop. I don’t know how, but I did thankfully. It took a few moments to compose myself and then I made the decision to start climbing back up to the track and retrieve the broken poles rather than trying to traverse across and guess where to join the path somewhere different. I felt it might be safer to at least get back to where I think I should have been. As I slowly climbed back up I had to dig one pole out as it was wedged so deep. The other part of the broken one was lost deep in the snow somewhere.

I slipped near to where the lead runner is

Up top I was angry that I had broken more poles (this is my third set in two years!) But it fired me up to finish. I was 35km in and had a long way to go. Next we had a few hundred meters of descent to make. It was all sketchy and I slipped many more times. No where near as bad as before though! Sometimes I thought about just jumping on my arse and sliding down. But that was far too risky. It was difficult to find the way even when my momentum was under my control. Eventually I managed to cross at the bottom and was back on trails. I came across another chap with two broken poles too. He didn’t have spikes like I did, so I was in a better place!

I felt a little energised and jogged a little as the tracks took us along a combination of forests and snow crossings at lower level. I missed some turns several times as the tape markings were sometimes difficult to spot. We then had maybe about 5 km through forests. It was lovely. I was running well and felt a little better, I was certainly glad the hell of Omu was behind us.

Somewhere in the forest I stumbled across a little miracle. There was a black diamond pole just resting against a tree. I called out a few times and no one answered. So I decided to take it with me. Either I’d find the owner and be able to reunite them, or I’d benefit from having one pole. The forest was sometimes difficult to navigate. I met another guy who missed a hand written ‘turn right’ sign and I had to call after him. We turned off the path onto a grassy stretch. It was very easy to miss. We came to the aidstation at 45km in. I had noodle soup and changed some clothes. I made a very conscious decision not to change my socks. This was a silly mistake that would later bite me hard.

I set back out. Maybe 30 mins my behind my estimated schedule. Not bad considering the trauma. 45km done but still a long way to go. I decided to keep the spikes with me for safety (turned out I wouldn’t need them again) as we still had two climbs where we’d be above 2000m. From the aid station it was more forests (and wrong turns) and a massive climb back up to Piatra Arsa. In the forest I found a stick. Almost perfect for hiking / running with. I felt confident now I had two sticks of some sort again, despite their differences in size! I kept telling myself that once this climb was done, the bulk of the elevation would be overcome. We’d done over 3500 in the first 40km!

The climb was long and slow. I came across a group of Polish people I’d be running near for the most of the race. We rested part way up the climb and I took in the views and admired all the old rusty infrastructure (cable cars or mining cars?). Eventually the climb came out in top of the mountain. it felt like it took an age to climb. It was so hot and humid in the forest.

Up top required a bit more bush whacking along some snow lined tracks. The trees were a pain to push passed! Another aidstation with heavy techno music awaited just around the corner. I had some more pasta and coke and set off again. We were on top of the mountain and it was windy and misty. The route took us over and around a summit. Then we started descending. The terrain was now very British like. Similar to being in Brecon or somewhere. Very lumpy tufts of grass. It wasn’t particularly comfortable to run on but was by far one of the better parts of the course so far. It was a fairly easy down hill, pretty straight down the hill and then a skip (jump) over a river before more hill running.

At about 60km we hit the first bit of road in the race. And that was just to cross it. Crazy how ‘on trail’ the race is. 60km of purely trail is impressive. On the other side we soon entered more forests, running down hill with the head torches out as it was pretty pitch black in the dense forest. A Scottish guy soon caught us. He refused to get his torch out and kept running into trees. The trees in all the forests were a pain as they had sharp, stick like branches protruding and would stab you at any opportunity if you got too close. As would the fallen ones we had to hurdle over. So many of these throughout the run!

Darkness setting in the woods before the sun went down

We then emerged out of the forest and into the aid station at the lake in Bolbuci. I had two slices of pizza and loads of coke here. I wasn’t really eating between aid stations any longer. I wasn’t too hungry but just didn’t fancy my foods. From here it was a long stretch to Moieciu de Sus. It started with a few km on road. The only road section! Before more forest climbing. Up into the mountains where there were flashing lights to help guide us in the mist of the night. Visibility was very poor and we’d be lost without the lights. It was a few km traversing the mountain top and passed the peak of Tataru and the marshal check point before a technical descent. It was a little sketchy crossing the cliff edges with limited visibility to begin descending.

Once we had though it was more forests. We passed some more people. I fell in the forest slipping on a rock. My lower back hit the rock and my fore arm a log on the ground. It hurt. Once back up we soon were on a wide fire/access track. I remembered this from our walk the day before. I started jogging consistently. Probably covered a few km before I had enough and started walking again. At the end, as we reached the car park area, we left the road and started climbing.

It was a steep climb. This whole section was disorienting in the dark. We climbed then navigated along the top. There were lights off in the distance which I thought might be an aidstation. I know from the day before we’d have to back up in the hills near where we left the access road. I was confused and trying to guess where two aid stations would be. We crossed behind farm land and through many horse fields. Needing to climb over fences to enter and exit each. The descent wasn’t as bad as it looked on the route profile. I think that was helped a little by the diversion. Rather than dropping straight down to the aid station we carried on around onto a road and walked maybe 500m along it to the aid station. It was a fairly quick turn around after some pasta as I tried to keep up with the group of Polish runners who now had about 3-4 other ‘hanger ons’ with them.

It was a steep climb through more forests and fields to the other side. It was hot in the night. After some time we were back were I recalled form the previous day’s walk. Running passed the picnic bench, the abandoned hut and joining the trail with the 50k route. Steady dirt track hiking for a few km to the next and final aid station.

I was confused by the remaining distance as the map profile and my watch were very different. Although I knew clocked a few extra kms with the diversion and getting lost. I checked the route in my Coros which said about 13km to go. This felt more accurate than then route profile that suggested more like 20k.

All along this section my eyes were starting to close. I was swaying side to side and was very tired, waiting for the caffeine to hit. I was contemplating a Power Nap at the aid station. It was just a tent on the mountain side though and nothing for me to take refuge in. The Poles left too quickly for me to follow. I ate and drank and then left a few minutes later. The track carried on a little longer before a nasty steep climb in the forest that got the heart rate higher. I was so warm now. And fed up of climbing over fallen trees. I stopped and took off my wind proof and arm sleeves. I needed to feel the cold. Thankfully the caffeine was kicking in and the morning light was starting to dominate. I wasn’t so sleepy any longer.

From the forests the downhill towards Bran started. More forest and some very steep muddy descents. Gravity was pulling me down with a stumble. After 40+k of running on battered feet each step was painful. As too was my right quad which was very limiting in my movement. After what felt like an eternity I got through the mud.

Green fields and rolling hills on the way back to Bran

We left the mud behind and annoyingly started to climb again up a gravel road. Up along the top were fantastic views of red roof houses and green farms. It was stunning first thing in the morning. There was a photographer. My watch indicated 3 km to go finally. Finally less than an hour left to run. I plodded on painfully. Then one last steep forest descent and we emerged into the car park of the sports hall where we registered. 600m along the busy main road to go. Only we were diverted to the grounds of Bran Castle. Weaving through the houses and gardens up the steps and round to the front of the castle to the finish line. I walked slowly with the stick. A small gathering of people clapping and Cheering. I thanked them. I crossed the line and lifted my stick triumphantly in the air. I was so glad to have finished. Ale, Carl and Nick soon came to collect me and help me back to the hotel. they’d each finished their races too.

After thoughts.

Poles – I’m annoyed I’ve broken another set. Especially as I’ve only used these ones once before. Finding another and a decent stick definitely helped me overcome the last 60km!!

The 100km route has a very tough first 40km. The double summit of Omu is bad enough but the effort of the Chimney climb and the technicality of the second descent was exhausting.

I was obviously not thinking clearly when I received the drop bag at 45km. I knew my feet were wet and sore. I consciously decided not to dry them, nor change socks. I had some rationale why but it was definitely a bad mistake. Post race, my feet were in possibly the worst state ever – besides some trench foot I counter 10 blisters on one foot (the biggest one being the size of my thumb!).

I’m not sure why just one quad hurts so badly (restricting movement) perhaps I landed on it after my slip and air time?

The Aid stations were great. Each one had helpful volunteers and a good variety of food and and options. Sour worms were a delight for me.

The Bucegi mountains are spectacular a great place to run

The chimney is one hell of a climb and experience one needs to have!

We didn’t see any bears.

Eiger Ultra Trail – E101

Published on July 30, 2022September 4, 2022 by runwithdai3 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Sun burning brightly in the early morning

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

The shadow-y climb to the platform at First

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The beginning of the rocky descent from Faulhorn

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Worth the discomfort of a mid race squat

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sleepy time

Published on May 4, 2022 by runwithdai1 Comment

Hardmoors 55, one of a number of events in the Hardmoors race series. These races are set in and around the North York Moors, a place I’d never previously visited, never mind run around. Jon was the architect of this adventure as he looked for an event way back in 2020 to help with his preparations for the CCC. Yep, it’s one of those events on my list of deferrals that, third time lucky, I was now able to tick off.

For the past few years we’d planned for a small group (6 of us) to make this trip. Besides Jon and myself there was also Jess (who we’d not seen in ages), Gif and Reka. Sadly with all the date changes Yvette was no longer able to join us. Jon had arranged a house for us to stay in near the finish in Helmsley (the same place he’d booked two years earlier) and we all met up on the Friday evening arriving full of anticipation for what the adventure would bring. Of course there was messing around and you should always, always, check your wardrobes before you settle in to go to sleep!

It was soon ‘sleepy time’ as we had a rather early wake up call the next day – The organisers had arranged for buses to ferry participants from the finish line to the start in Guisborough. As painful as the early starts and long bus rides can be, I do prefer this set up of point to point races with transport to the start line. This way when you finish there is minimal effort in getting to your bed!

As we arrived into Guisborough, the morning was breaking and it was shaping up to be quite some day. Stepping off the bus we started immediately began stripping off our layers and re-packing our bags. At registration we were formed into queues for drop bags and had to go through the kit check before registration could be completed. In all the races I’d done, I’d never experienced the drop bag being done before registration. I must say how much I approve of this approach. It certainly helps minimise the chances of runners going through registration and mandatory kit checks and then removing kit into their drop bags. It also helped me as I hadn’t prepared any drop bags, so I had one less queue to go through!

Before long we were (trying to) listen to the race director provide the race briefing before jostling for position along the narrow footpath that was the start line. Other than a few flags there was no real marking of the start, certainly no starting arch anyway. I liked it. Minimalist with no unnecessary fath. At 8am we were beginning our 55 mile adventure that would take us all the way back to Helmsley.

As soon as we started, with no reasoning or thought, I started heckling Jon. It amused me. It annoyed him. That amused me more. “Go on Jon”. “You can do it Jon”. “Good luck Jon”. “Keep going Jon”. “Turn right here Jon”. There was nowhere for him to go, squished in with all the other runners on the narrow trails there was no escape for him. I couldn’t help myself. No one else was amused though, just me. And I was immensely amused by it. I’ll do it again and again to whoever I’m running with!

As the footpath came to an end, the first of many, many climbs began as we ascended up alongside Spa Wood. We gently began hiking and made our way up to the beautiful woodland area where it alternated between some flatter single track paths and some small runnable hills. Here the views were breath taking as we traversed towards Guisborough wood and looked back on Guisborough and beyond. Here we’d run for several km as we made our way to Rosebury Topping

Early on the undulating trails above Guisborough

The peak of Rosebury Topping came into view and conveniently hid the ‘dip’ that we’d first descend before having to make the climb back up to the summit for a small out and back section. As we began, approaching runners were speeding passed us in the other direction and there were plenty of pleasantries exchanged as we all congratulated each other whilst gasping for air as we powered up the short switch back climb. Over the first few kms our group of runners had kind of separated a little with Reka, Jon and myself ahead of Gif and Jess. At the trig point though we all conveniently met back up and posed for a photo.

From here we repeated the down the back up and cheered on the other runners behind us as those ahead of us had to us. It was then a short run along some easy trails before an enjoyable downhill section into to Kildale, which was the first checkpoint.

The checkpoint set up for the Hardmoors races are quite a unique set up. Whilst they are checkpoints, ultimately the event is more synonymous with a self supported type race. It’s not marked course/route and you have to carry a physical map of the route at all times. In this event there are two drop bags available on the course too. But, these are non returnable and must be ‘small’. They are intended for food only and not kit. So in effect you are stashing your own supplies along the route rather than relying on the checkpoints for fuel. As a result, besides water and squash, the offerings at the checkpoints are quite basic and minimal. I decided not to use drop bags and carried all the food I wanted with me rather than having to plan/think about when I might want access to them. The others all utilised the drop bags and were looking forward to accessing their stash now the first 10 miles or so was completed.

At Kildale we took a few moments as Jon and Reka collected their bags. Then we headed back out and onwards to a large climb back up onto the Moors. Jon and I were in a group chatting to various other runners and we were all commenting on the weather (and food!) as it was now nearing midday and the day was indeed very warm. We were happy and these conditions, despite how though the heat would become, was certainly favourable compared to the usual expected rain, snow and wind experienced on a Hardmoors race in March.

As we chatted Jon and I could see Gif and Reka further up in the distance waving back at us. It wasn’t much further later and we caught them up and carried on again together again and before long we were running passed what I believe was the Captain Cook monument. There were plenty of school kids doing their Duke of Edinburgh awards who were hiking around here and I laughed with one as they played their rock music and cheered us on.

We started to spread out a little after this as Gif dropped back and Jon and Reka raced on ahead of me in the middle. I was struggling to keep Jon and Reka in my sights. event though it was so open and bare on top (with little shade from the midday heat that was picking up). As we followed a sharp turn, looking back we saw incredible views as far back as Roseberry Topping and around the the u shape of the horse shoe which we’d run. It was a beautiful sight. This was a welcome distraction as it was very dusty on the ground and my leg was now hurting quite a bit.

Before they sped off. There would be no shelter from the elements here

The second aid station was soon upon us (after another fantastic descent) and the marshals had split it so there was water just before the climb started. Those not stopping could refill and go rather than stop at the aid station a little further up the climb. We opted to have a few moments and ate some food whilst chatting with the volunteers who once again were spoiling us. In a box of sweets I found a Wham bar. Result. I’d not had one for years and it was an absolute delight. Another 10 miles or so had been completed.

From here we climbed and then we’re treated to a series of ‘sisters’ or small(ish) ascents and descents in the rolling Moor tops as we navigated along the edge of the hills. Up ahead above us were tens and tens of gliders effortlessly flowing through the sky above. It was mesmerising to watch them glide, gently bobbing up and down above our heads.

Somehow, after may 25 miles or so of rather uncomfortable and painful running, I slowly started feeling better. I knew it meant the pain in my leg was just numb and I was now used to it. Either that or Wham bars having magical healing properties that haven’t been documented! Either way it was a good thing, for now. It meant I could enjoy the downhills a little bit so whilst Jon and I carried on Reka would speed off down the descents and wait for us at the bottom to catch up.

Shortly after this Jon started to feel ill. Almost out of nowhere he stopped to be sick. Something wasn’t right and he seemed to know straight away it was his nutrition (Tailwind). Somehow he picked himself up and found that reserve and toughness to crack on and was able to keep moving, although he was a little quieter than he had been before.

Possibly close to the 30 mile mark, a little over half way through the race, he broke his silence. To mine and Reka’s surprise he muttered the forbidden words “I’m thinking of dropping out”. He said he was 99.9% certain he wouldn’t carry on. Me and Reka were having none of it. We offered some encouragement, slowed and walked with him when he tried to make us go on ahead and told him to rest at the aid station and think it through. We wouldn’t be far from the next checkpoint now.

As we got closer we had a short little section which we shared with another, local, runner. I chatted with him whilst Reka stayed with Jon. I was enjoying the local knowledge he was sharing and he told me he thought the next section, where we’d be heading south after the aid station, was his favourite part of the course. This excited me as it was quite some course so far!

We ran into the village Osmotherley together. This was the second (and final) checkpoint with a drop bag. There was some food on offer and I started filling my face with pizza, rice pudding and plenty of coke. Jon sat and took his time, gathering his thoughts but not eating or drinking just yet. Not long after we arrived, so too did Gif and then Jess. They whole team was together again and we sat, ate and laughed together. Jess was bringing the energy with her infectious smile and laugh. She was in her element and having a great time.

There there was a table of food left behind due to the bag drops which other runners decided not to take with them. I kept going back and helping myself to the best of the leftovers. I was in heaven. It was like an old school tuck shop. I had hula hoops. Tangy Toms. A Freddo and more. I was enjoying the stop and must have clocked up a few extra hundred meters just walking around and back and forth.

Gradually Jon started coming around and eating himself. He’d decided to no longer use the Tailwind and started drinking water. Gif, who like me was covered in salt from the heat of the day, started to panic at the mention of cut offs and made to leave with Jess. There was a complete misunderstand as we were well within the cut off. She thought that we were now up against the final cut off at the next aid station and was worried about making it in time. Either way we sent them on their way and Reka and I stayed with Jon despite his protests. We weren’t leaving him now, I guess we thought there was still a chance he’d convince himself to quit as he had intended too.

After about 45 minutes he was ready to give it a go. So out we went, the three of us together. From here, for the remaining 20 miles or so, we knew it would be a run walk strategy. This suited me too as, whilst I wasn’t in direct pain anymore, I was very conscious of the leg and making it worse than I already had.

Although it was still super hot, Jon seemed a lot better. He was moving a little more freely now and he ran when he could. That suited me to a tee. Reka would bound off at speed whilst we plodded on and then wait for us to catch her up. After a big climb we caught up with Gif again and the four of us jostled and interchanged with various other runners for a few kms. As they had been all day, the views were amazing and we started to see the Moors in a different light (literally) as we started to run into the evening and the Sun’s rays diminished.

It wasn’t long until we were stopping to layer up. The wind proofs and gloves were coming out as without the Sun the temperature started to plummet. It was a good reminder of how fortunate had been that we’d managed to get as far as the evening without needing to layer up!

We ran through many woodlands and more open space moorland before reaching the Yorkshire Gliding Club Airfield where the course would deviate for a slight out and back loop where the final aid station would be. Like many hours earlier we cheered on the runners ahead and they encouraged us too as they ran back towards us. Here we saw some runners who sat near us at the aid station in Osmotherley. They were pleased to see Jon made it back out and cheered him loudly.

The route then took us sharply down hill and through a forest section at Hood Grange Wood. Here there was a runner running in shoes (road shoes) that had broken under the uneven terrain. He said he’d been running for about 30 miles with his heel sticking out the back of the collapsed arch. We were amazed. I certainly don’t think I could have run in a broken pair of trainers like that. Tough going!!

We could then hear the music from the aid station and see the lights set up in the evening darkness. The aid station was a welcome sight. The Marshalls instructed us to take out our head torches (also checking we had them) and helped us refill our water and refuel on snacks. Head torches on we left and climbed back out the steep steps alongside the white horse, which of course we couldn’t see in the darkness .

From here it was a final 9 miles to the finish. It was a slow slog of a section! Throughout, in the darkness we almost took a few wrong turns missing the trail signs which were now slightly more difficult to navigate as our minds wandered off. There was also a long stretch of trail alongside a river (I think) that was littered with toads. There were so many sitting in the darkness that it was very difficult under the torch light to avoid stepping on them. We slowed to a walk here to be sure they weren’t harmed. As we hit some pathed roads Reka ran on ahead and scared runners in front of us with the brightness of her head torch – they thought she was a car coming out of nowhere !)

With a few places gained we powered on for the final few miles. There was one last climb and then it was mostly flat and down hill before we eventually came to the end of the Cleveland way. The day before we’d walked this road and stopped at the ice cream shop which was sadly ,but unsurprisingly, closed (it was around 9pm after all!). A few twists through the village and we were on the last section, a climb to the finish line.

It was a bastard uphill for a few more hundred meters. Not long. Not steep. But we were tired and hungry. For the first time Reka seemed to drain of energy and we laughed that she couldn’t flag so close to the finish. Finally, after what felt like a very long time, we crossed the finish line, well, we walked through the door into the building! A no frills finish line for sure.

We were given our times and our medals, treated to warm drinks and some vegan chilli and sat down with Jess as we waited for Gif to join. Not long afterwards she appeared through the doorway and, for the last time we were altogether at a checkpoint again. This time we only had to leave to walk the few mins back home to our warm beds.

Hips Don’t Lie

Published on October 27, 2021 by runwithdai2 Comments

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

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

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

Usual photo opportunity whilst everything is still being set up

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

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

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

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

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

A snippet of golden trails and white Tuff terrain

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Incredible rock formations on the undulating descent

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

View from the top with the trails visible lower down

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Running is life

Published on October 13, 2021 by runwithdaiLeave a comment

Running is life. You can read into and over analyse that as much as you want, you won’t get the intended meaning behind it. It was a phrase Nick and I screamed at each other several times during the later stages of the Chilterns Wonderland 50 mile race by Centurion Running. Every time it had us laughing and singing. Its a play on a phrase from a tv show and we’d follow it up with football chants of each other’s names. It is always the simple things that bring most joy. I interpret that to be its meaning in the show too, find joy in what you do. There was plenty of joy on this occasion. It was Nick’s first 50 miler and his longest run to date. We were happy for so many reasons. One thing was clear to me though, he has come a long way!

Transformation. Change. Progress. Development. Whatever word you want to assign to it. It was visible to me. Obviously visible. We judge ourselves constantly. We are hard on ourselves and our own worst critics. But others have that external perspective. As an outsider I can see how Nick has changed when it comes to running. I was there running alongside him when he started running again, for his first marathon, his first ultra and for many runs in between. I’ve seen, and laughed, as he suffered like we all do, hitting the wall, fuelling poorly, struggling up hills, sliding in mud and managing the post race wobbly legs. This time was different though…

After his first ultra, I wrote about ‘Ultra Nick’. I recalled the sadistic joy of watching him go through the pain of discovering himself, I laughed at the grunts and ‘fucks’ he uttered with each change of terrain and slight hill as the race went on and I related it to the different versions of yourself you create each time you push yourself that bit further. That day I said he was now ‘Ultra Nick’. Now he is something else, something more.

So what has changed now? Familiarity for a start. He now has experience. Each run is a learning curve. Each run tells us a little something more about ourselves. We gain a better understanding of how we feel. What are limitations are. What are strengths and weaknesses are. What to expect with each passing mile and each new step into the unknown. We may not feel it, but it shows. I can see Nick running with more freedom. Less fear of the unknown and with greater confidence it what he is capable of. A stronger ability and willingness to adapt as the run goes on. Whether that’s feeling better, recognising the signs the body (and mind) send out, accepting when to stop and rest and when to push on and endure. There’s certainly less encouragement from me and less need for me to share my experiences as he now has plenty of his own to work with.

Above all, he now he runs with freedom and with complete unadulterated joy. Running is life.

How did the day go…? When we arrived at Goring Village Hall for registration, the morning was very overcast with a low mist covering the town. We breezed through registration and were ready to go 10 mins into the rolling start window. The race began with a short trot down the Thames before we took the planned detour due to the path being closed. Nick was already cursing at the realisation he’d somehow recce’d the route in the reverse direct. I was happy, I knew I didn’t want to run along this section after running all day.

As we reached the first climb a friendly runner sped passed, powering up the hill as he wished us a good day. He looked like a competitor, a winner. Nick called it out. Later that day it was confirmed he did indeed win the race in a ridiculously quick time.

It wasn’t long before we reached the first aid station at Tokers Green. It was brilliant. Set up like a 1980s birthday party with cocktail style savoury snacks galore and Ribena. Excitedly I gulped back a few cups whilst tucking into my own bacon sandwich and half a pork pie. This would keep me going for a while and make my pack start to feel a little lighter – the pie was hefty.

As we set back out the mist was well and truly gone. The morning was heating up rapidly and the sun was shinning brightly. We soon found ourselves running into the Country Estate of Crowsley Park. It’s such a beautiful space (ignoring the massive BBC satellite dishes on the grounds) and the tranquillity was momentarily broken by an expletive-ridden squeal from Nick as he jarred his knee and fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes. The family with young kids in front didn’t look too impressed by his choice of words but thankfully he was ok after a few minutes of catching his breath. No lasting damage, just the shock of coming into contact with the ground sooner than the mind expected it.

Another quick stop at Bix where the second aid station saw Nick encounter many familiar faces who he’d met along the Woldingham marathon a few weeks earlier. From here the route took us through another glorious open space – Stonor Deer park. here we were happily chatting away to other runners including a guy from South Africa who told us stories of all his Comrades finishes. We realised how much our pace had increased as we talked to him so had to encourage him carry on and to let us drop back before we passed out trying to maintain it!

The day was now very hot, it didn’t feel like a mid September kind of day! Thankfully though my mind was distracted by the route. Since Bix I was in unchartered territory having never run this section of the Chilterns before. It was delightful and continued to be excellent with plenty of very runnable terrain. There were plenty of hills to break up the running and the route felt like it was a roller coaster – as soon as you were at the top of a climb you would then go straight back down. there was a pleasing symmetry to the terrain and elevation of the climbs and subsequent descents.

A tough climb up Ibstone to the windmill soon greeted us. It was probably the steepest in the route but thankfully short. The garden fire and smoke at the top made it difficult to capture our breathe though. Further on another short climb took us to the school and halfway point aid station.

We planned for a rest here. Nick found a throne and sat down to be treated like Royalty by the volunteers who pandered to his needs. Dimi, with her beaming smile greeted me and whilst we talked Phillip (a veteran of Centurion races) rocked up. After we rested for a little while we then carried on. Ready for the day. More of the same planned, chatting and joking from the moment we left.

After running through another 10km or so of fields and woodlands we arrived at the next aid station. Here everyone was fighting for the shade. It was very bright now and salt was visible on most runners. The coke had run dry and we stayed a little longer as a resupply was imminent. It worked out well as Nick needed fuel and I wanted the Coke. We stayed a little longer than planned but it was very much needed and would set us up for what was to come.

After leaving the aid station we ran with Melanie and Kirsty for a while as we all kept similar pace. I was pushing Nick now though. I was conscious that when he gets chatting there’s no stopping him. He loses focus slightly and gets too comfy. They all joked I ‘wouldn’t let him off the train’. It’s true, the whip was out. We pushed on.

Before long we were bounding down the long straight to Grim’s Ditch. I knew where we were now having run this section at night many years ago. The train was running free and we made a small bit of time over the many familiar faces we’d been seeing all throughout the day. As we entered the small aid station we knew it would soon be filled with all the other inners immediately behind us. We were in great spirits here and were singing Mr Sandman with the volunteers and laughing to ourselves as we left.

It wasn’t far to go now. The reality has set in with Nick that we were 100% finishing. The cut offs would not be a concern. We were an hour ahead of it with a 12 hour finish looking likely. As always though, the confidence of knowing the end was in sight started to play on Nick. The possible 12 hour finish was soon changed as he suggested 11.5hrs might be possible. Soon after he changed the goal again thinking 11hr could be achievable. It certainly was, but bloody hell I was looking forward to a relaxed finish not a frantic one.

And so we ran. We kept running. The last few km were mostly downhill. We kept going. Kept catching runners. Kept overtaking them. The train was now a runaway. We were still enjoying it. The sun starting to set on the fields. We were thankful that the increase in pace meant we wouldn’t be needing to get the head torches out as we ran through the last of the forests and soon reached Goring for the last few streets.

Into Goring village we ran. The cheer of the finish line now audible. Residents on the street clapping us in as we we to and around the village hall. The excitement and elation as we finished was a great feeling. We’d done it. He’d done it. Nick was a 50mile finisher now!

We immediately changed into the finishers tee so I looked less salty for the finish line photo. Stuart, as always, captured and immortalised the magical moment. What a day. What a run.

Bitchin

Published on May 27, 2021 by runwithdaiLeave a comment

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

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

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

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

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

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

Early on, enjoying the ideal morning conditions

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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