Written by Andrew Benham - http://uphillstruggler.blogspot.co.uk

The Cotswold Century got underway at 12pm exactly. We filed out of the village of Chipping Campden in the Autumn sunshine and straight up a hill. I slowed to a walk pretty quickly, might as well get used to it. Before long we were heading out across open country and over ploughed fields at a nice easy pace.

We crossed a busy road and then dropped steeply down past Broadway Tower and soon we were in Broadway itself, having run 4 miles or so. Broadway is such a beautiful village, I grew up close to here and come through the village every time I go home to visit my parents who, as it happened, had turned out to wave me on and were eating sandwiches and clapping us on our way. A quick hello and off we went.

For the next few hours the running was good, undulating and varied, the sun was shining and I was moving well. Before long we'd covered 13 miles and arrived at the first checkpoint. A few peanuts and a top up of water and I was away, as I was carrying all the food I needed with me. The afternoon wore on and a few big climbs started to introduce a little fatigue. In fact, the truth be known I was not feeling as good as I'd hoped. Possibly the enormity of the undertaking was weighing down on me a bit. After a particularly gruelling climb I started to asses how I was feeling. 20 miles in and I was hurtung, how was I going to run another 80? I'd made the cardinal error of thinking about the whole thing instead of just concentrating on the next checkpoint. I had a word with myself and got on with it, and was soon feeling better.




As you do in these races I saw people pass me and then passed them later on. I was in a good rhythm and the field had thinned out; those before and after slowly became familiar faces. We nearly got ourselves lost at one point but a quick back track saw us back on course. We crossed over Cleeve common looking out over Cheltenham as the afternoon turned towards evening. Checkpoint 2 came all of a sudden and this was the first chance to access a drop bag, which for me just meant a restocking of my food supplies. I made the mistake of sitting down here and regretted it when I moved on as I'd quickly stiffened up. Still either the brief rest or the cola I'd drank gave me wings and the next section flew by in a rush of high energy.



By now the sun was low in the sky and the drop in temperature was very welcome as the evening took over. I was on my own again; stopping to sort out a stone in my shoe I looked up to see the moon rising big and bright behind me. Still skirting around Cheltenham the terrain below the Cotswold escarpment runs flat Northwards towards the Malverns and the sunset looking west was incredible.

As darkness took over I latched on to a couple of runners who clearly had GPS and tried my best to stay with them. There were some big climbs and a few stretches through woods where I was glad to be following someone who knew the way, although the pace was a bit spicy for me. I knew from my watch we were closing in on the third checkpoint so made a point of keeping up. When we arrived at checkpoint three I got myself a coffee and saw a jar of gherkins. This was another case of discovering food I'd never usually eat but as soon as I saw them I knew that's what I needed. Before I could finish my coffee the group I was with were off and not wanting to be left behind I downed my drink and got going. Four of us left together but we were soon split into two groups as me and a chap from Bristol hung back rather than be drawn into someone else' pace.


Some steep climbs followed and the next ten miles or so went by in a blur, I was tiring, I had a blister on my left toe and the beginnings of some chafing in an unpleasant location. Although it had dropped colder as the night moved on we were moving reasonably well and I didn't feel the need to wrap up. At about 10:30pm we got to Painswick Rugby club, the only indoor checkpoint and a chance to get some hot food, assess the situation and get a change of clothes from my second drop bag. I changed into a long sleeve and whipped off my socks to find a massive blister on my little toe. Stupidly I popped it and then made a bad job of taping it up. A couple of cups of coffee and some veg chili later and I was ready to go. I'd run in with the chap from Bristol and we agreed to leave together. After a mile or so though I was feeling rough. Not wanting to try and stay with him I hung back to sort out a second layer and let him go on. Alone again in the dark and feeling pretty tired I wandered on.

I got my phone out and fired up Back Country Pro and checked my location on the map. folding it up small I oriented the map and got my thumb on the right spot. Now, pay attention and hopefully we won't get lost. It was a good hour before I perked up and found the energy I seemed to have lost in the checkpoint. From then on the overnight section was actually quite good fun. One problem that did cause me concern was the sudden dimming of my head torch around about midnight. My Alpkit Manta torch usually goes all night. Cursing my stupidity for not checking the batteries I changed them, checking the new ones as I did and finding they too only had half charge! How could this be? It would be a terrible way to go out, stranded in the dark with no head torch. Luckily I had a second hand torch - far brighter than the head torch and brought along to help spot the signposts from a distance - but this only has a three hour burn time and I only had a single rechargeable battery for it. From midway through the night as the head torch again started to dim I switched to the hand torch and hoped for the best.


Pretty much everything blurred into one over night. I remember a cup of tea at a checkpoint seemingly in the middle of nowhere, running round a never ending golf course, getting lost on the edge of a maze field and ending up stung and bloodied when the "path" I was on ran out. The section I had run a few years back I actually remembered pretty well, from Kings Stanley to North Nibley I felt almost at home. This was the section where we had been warned about not taking the longer route along the canal. I met some poor runners who, having rightly stayed on the correct path, had turned left instead of right and doubled back on themselves where the two paths rejoined.

When I arrived at the checkpoint at Wooton Under Edge it was just before sunrise. Commenting with another runner about how we were craving fresh fruit we were both humbled and forever grateful when one of the marshals produced and selflessly handed over his own supply of fresh pineapple. Just one of many acts of kindness throughout that made our journey that little bit more bearable.

As the sun came up I waited for a boost in my energy levels but none came. What did arrive were more hills. By now my feet were really achy, my toe a world of pain, the chafing a constant nagging irritation. Since about 60 miles my quads were really complaining on the downhills. Throughout it all though I was still motivated, still somehow moving forwards. Occasional bursts of energy came and went and I surprised myself on more than one occasion with a good block of running. I found I could move downhill more efficiently by changing my gait and rolling my feet from heel to toe, legs fairly straight I felt more like one of those Olympic walkers waddling along but it helped and raised my pace considerably.

Its all a bit of a blur from here. At about 80 miles we passed an  impressive tower, the map reliably informing me we were approaching the village of Horton and another checkpoint, I remember lovely homemade quiche, helpful marshalls buzzing around us and politely suggesting we'd sat down for long enough. This was our last drop bag location and I was in surplus so donated what I didn't need and made my way onwards.

Somewhere in the next leg, while moving well and pulling away from the group behind me, my right knee suddenly started to hurt on the inside of the kneecap. After several aborted attempts I realised I woudn't be running downhill anymore. The day wore on. By now it was warm again, lovely in fact, but I just wanted it done. The knee pain graduated from the downhills to any kind of running and I was consigned to walking. With more than 10  miles still to go I hobbled into the checkpoint at Cold Ashton. the marshalls here, as everywhere were extremely welcoming. I dined out on biscuits and gherkins, drank coke and agreed with the other runners that despite the assertions of the marshals that we were looking good, we certainly didn't feel it!

Leaving Cold Ashton the medics noticed I was limping and offered to bandage my leg. I agreed gratefully but a quarter of a mile later things seemed to be worse. Reasoning, rightly or wrongly, that the bandage was not helping I removed it and carried on. Shortly after this was the mother of all downhills, steep tarmac for a good half mile. It was here that things took a turn for the worse, my knee now becoming painful even walking downhill. For the first time I considered the possibility of dropping - and immediately discounted that as an option. I'd come too far and hurt too much to stop now. Over the next few miles time stretched out to the infinite and on I walked. I'd managed to find a way of hobbling downhill that limited the pain in my knee but must have looked bloody ridiculous.

Luckily there was a long section up on a kind of plateau - and another golf course - which went quite well, but the final miles towards Bath were very hard work, being all downhill. I'd also got it into my mind for a couple of hours that I had an hour less than I actually did so was seriously concerned I woudn't get in within the cut offs. When I realised my mistake I relaxed considerably and my mood lifted.

My Garmin was already reading well over 100 miles as we neared Weston and finally, arriving at the final check point I felt like the end was in sight. I also felt like I had nothing left. I sat on the steps by the side of the road while a marhsal filled my water bottles and considered what was left. Two miles or thereabouts. But what a couple of miles! Two huge hills followed, the railings on the walkway the only blessing, allowing me to drag myself up. Still it was the downhills that hurt the most. Coming down into a park near the center of Bath I actually turned around and walked backwards for a bit which was blessed relief but not too practical. My biggest worry now was getting lost, though with the map and an occasional pink arrow - this was the only signed section of the course - I made my way into the town center. Even knackered as I was I couldn't fail to appreciate the beauty of the architecture here. Then all of a sudden I was in amongst the throngs of shoppers and touists. Now Bath has a few buildings that look like they might be a Cathedral and, after nearly ending up at the doors of the wrong one, I asked for directions from a big issue seller. Lo and behold, minutes later I was crossing the square. Running in front of a busker who sang me in to the finish line with Bobby McFerrin's "Don't worry be happy" was a bit surreal. Somehow I managed some semblance of a run and then it was over. Kurt shook my hand and presented me with my medal and I said some rude words to him and that was it. I'd done it.

Finishing a 100 mile race in the center of Bath without any friends or family present made the next few hours a bit of a challenge to be honest. The YMCA was the next destination where showers and drop bags awaited; five minutes up the road to any normal human being but a world away to me. On arrival I was confronted with a steep set of steps. At the top the man in reception apologetically told me my kit was in another building at the bottom of said stairs. Bummer. I returned sometime later with my kit and a belly full of soup from another pair of amazing volunteers. Of course the showers were on the first floor! Removing my socks I found that all the skin had parted company with my little toe - well almost. Comical scenes ensued as I tried to reach my feet in the confines of the shower cubicle so I could finish the job and clean up the mess. Eventually, all washed and clean I left with instructions on how to get some food and a bus to the YHA. The 15 inch pizza I ordered was the finest meal I'd ever eaten, though people walking past were clearly perplexed by the homeless man in an expensive gortex jacket who looked as if he'd not eaten in a week. Finally giving up on the bus that never came I called a taxi. As it happened I wasn't the only one staying in the youth hostel and we made a pretty pair hobbling around the halls that evening.

It was good to finally get home on the train the following day though, especially as my youngest daughter had prepared a welcome home banner and Hannah had a bottle of fizz chilling in the fridge.


Two weeks later and the scars have healed. Of course now I only remember the good bits and am already thinking about how much room for improvement there is next time.

Written by Dave Boxall

Two years ago I was out for my weekly run, an eight-mile loop to the North of Bath, which I run with my father-in-law. We return into Bath down the Cotswold Way, and as we started our descent we saw a group of three runners on the ridge ahead of us. As we descended the path we started to catch up with them. This made no sense, as they were serious looking runners with mud splatters, hydration packs and everything. As we got closer the only thing I could think was that they must have run a long way, perhaps 20 miles, and so be a bit tired. When we drew level I asked, “Have you come far?” “Chipping Camden” was the reply. A bit of further chat revealed that they were racing the whole of the Cotswold way non-stop. They were completely mad, or they were supermen (and women), surely nobody normal could do a run like that.

The simplicity of the challenge proved to be compelling, to start running at one end of a long-distance path and to keep going until the end. Not to mention the convenience, as I’d be running home. So after two years, my first marathon, three ultras and a lot of coaching from Cotswold Way Race Director Kurt Dusterhoff I lined up with 92 other runners outside the Market Hall in Chipping Camden for the start of the 2015 Cotswold Way Century.

The Cotswold Way is an evil route, in fact legend has it that some of it (Cam Long Down) was placed there by the devil. In order to include every viewpoint and chocolate-box village the route zig-zags up and down the escarpment. To be a National Trail the route has to be a minimum of 100 miles long, so there are plenty of loops and wiggles in the trail, and did I mention that it’s hilly?  

The race started in bright sunshine after a few days of fine weather so once we left the roads of Chipping Camden and started walking up the hill it was a relief to find the trail was pretty dry. We ran steadily through the afternoon, ripping through the miles that I’d spent days walking when I rehearsed the route few weeks earlier. The first 50 miles or so were pretty enjoyable. I chatted with groups of runners, scenery was fantastic, although the afternoon was a little hot. The Route seems to take an age getting around Cheltenham but finally, as the sun was setting we started to leave it behind us.

My previous night runs have all been quite short, a couple of hours at most, so a full night out was a new experience. I don’t mind night running as it shrinks the world to a little bubble of light and tends to draw me inside myself. The route south of Cheltenham spends a lot of time in the woods. The full moon was little help here and I was glad of my recent knowledge of the path to make to the route finding easier. I fell in with a couple of runners, David Anderson and Jim O’Brien, on this stretch and stayed with them until a little after the “half-way” checkpoint at Painswick.

I started to suffer during the early part of the morning. By Stroud I was on my own again, unable to keep up with David and Jim as my legs tired. Somewhere between Stroud and Dursley my quads began to hurt so much I could no longer run the downhills, so I was reduced to trotting the flats and gentle downhill slopes and walking the rest. I found the section around Dursley very hard. Cam Long Down is an isolated hill away from the main ridge with a great path around the bottom of it, but of course the path goes straight over the top. After Dursley comes another morale-sapper. The path takes a two-mile loop around Stinchcombe golf course. The views would be great, but it’s dark, and at the end of the loop you’re within 400m of where you entered the course.

Between Stinchcome and Wooton-under-Edge the sun came up. It raised my morale a bit, but did nothing for my legs and as the morning became warmer my progress reduced to a walk and I started to worry about making the cut-off at Tormarton at 1:15pm.

Finally I reached the checkpoint at Horton. Frome here the route was familiar, as I’d run it several times in training. While at Horton I calculated that if I could maintain twenty-minute miles then I’d finish the race with about half an hour to spare. After a brief stop, I hauled myself out of the chair and struggled on.

My 20 minute mile plan held together through the fabulous grounds of Doddington House and Tormarton village, but by then I was almost hoping to be stopped at the Tormarton checkpoint. By this stage the only thing that was keeping me going was the thought that it was so awful that I couldn’t bear having to do it again… about a mile out from the checkpoint I met my wife, Monica, who had walked out from Bath with a friend to meet me. We walked the mile together, then I started out on the final fifteen miles through Dyrham Park and Cold Ashton to the finish.

There’s not a lot to say about those last fifteen miles. It was hot, I was incredibly tired, my stomach was churning and I really, really wanted to stop but the path kept going up and down the hills. After the final big climb to Lansdown Hill I felt much better. The route was really very familiar now as I’d run it dozens of times before (just never this slowly). I was able to jog some of the flatter sections and as I descended the final slope with Bath visible ahead of me I felt such relief. At the bottom I met my father-in law who would accompany me to the finish line, and at the last checkpoint Monica and her friend, Sally, were waiting. After topping-up a water bottle we were off. The path has one last twist. Instead of following the obvious and flat route into central Bath the path climbs, first up Primrose Hill and then up Sion Hill. After Sion Hill it really is “all downhill from here” and soon I was passing through the crowds of Sunday shoppers into the Abbey Square.

I wasn’t elated to finish – more very relieved, both that it was over and that I’d never have to do it again… Of the ninety-two starters, fifty-seven of them finished, and twenty of those finished during the last hour before the cut-off.

I think there are several things that made it possible for me to complete the Cotswold Way Century. The training is obviously very important, and after an injury at the end of last year I signed up for coaching from Kurt Dusterhoff at Cotswold Running. He made me feel confident that an “ordinary runner” can complete an event like this. Having the right gear is important – and nothing more so than shoes. I was lucky that during my training I found a shoe/sock/footcare combination that worked for me. Although my feet were sore at the end of the race, I had only one small blister. Having walked the Cotswold Way a month before the race also helped a lot. During the night the route finding isn’t easy and having a fair idea that you’re on course without continuous reference to the map or GPS is a great confidence booster.

Daniel Hendriksen won the race in 21 hours 29 minutes. First Woman was Angie Sadler in 27hours and 13 minutes. My finishing time was 29 hours and 38 minutes. By then, I was almost past being proud.

Ultramarathon running is a thing you do alone, but with the help and support of so many people. Monica, who has tolerated and even enabled this new obsession, The volunteers and marshals at the races who give their time to support us, and the other runners and passers-by who often encourage us and lift our spirits in the dark moments.

Written by Mimi Anderson - http://marvellousmimi.com

The build up and training towards the Cyprus Ultra had gone well, lots of long back to back runs, shorter faster runs and of course some training in the altitude chamber.  The only niggle was my left knee that was actually causing me major concerns.  Annoyingly this is STILL due to my over extension injury from the Spine in January (can you believe it!) because my right leg isn’t quite straightening out 100% it’s causing my left knee cap to twist outwards – so I did virtually no running at all the week building up to the race – just panicked!

It was touch and go as to whether I was actually going to fly out to Larnaca, I really didn’t want another DNF and certainly wasn’t going to do any further damage to my knee because of my Freedom Runners Project in September – but being a Scot I decided having spent all that money I would at least fly out and see what happened.

The only other person I knew doing the race was Philip McMullan, we had raced together in the Jungle Ultra in 2012 so was looking forward to catching up with Philip again and meeting his family.

We met at breakfast the following morning and all of us drove up to the Vasa where the race was starting from – I had warned Philip to go very slowly as my rental car struggled on the hills and at one point I thought it would be quicker to get out and push! After a look round the first section of the course we headed off for a late lunch then back to our hotel to relax.

Time to get a bit of a tan so I put on my bikini and headed for the pool – fantastic.  However was immediately feeling negative when I went swimming and my left knee was very sore every-time it bent – this was so not looking good but I tried to stay positive.

Friday afternoon we had the race briefing in the Londa Hotel approximately a 45 minute walk from my hotel, far easier to walk than take my car – or so I thought! Muggins headed off in completely the wrong direction and it wasn’t until I had been walking for about half an hour that it dawned on me I could be going the wrong way.  The hotel was supposed to be on the beach side, no way could any hotels fit along this section of the beach – with a few naughty words I turned round now in a flap because I was going to be late! (I hate being late) Thankfully I remembered passing a taxi so just prayed that it was still there – I found the old guy chatting on his phone, I think he  was rather shocked that I got into his cab and asked to be taken to the Londa hotel – bless him he took me.

After the race briefing it was an early supper with the mad Irish contingent (Philip and family) then off to bed where as usual I woke up every hour on the hour worrying I wasn’t going to hear the alarm and when the alarm finally went off all I wanted to do was sleep!

I’m not going to go into huge detail on the race as I plan to write a race report (hopefully sooner rather than Later).  I had made the decision not to tell anyone that I was coming out to Cyprus – I wanted to come out quietly and just run.

With my knee strapped up we headed off towards the start, boy was I nervous, would my body hold out in this heat, how would my knee cope, all these things going through my head but finally we were off.

I was very sad to see Philip when I came into the main CP at the finish of my 2nd lap, but he had made the decision that this wasn’t the race for him for many reasons and his family kindly made the decision to stay and support me – that was such a wonderful, kind and marvellous thing for them to do, especially as they were on holiday.

The heat in this race is un-believeable, there was no shade and on the 2nd day the temperatures soared to above 50 degrees! The course  is extremely tough, we were either running up or down and the ups were steep and at points covered in rocks or large holes that needed to be avoided, especially in the dark and the downs were so steep in places that after abouot 6 laps my quads were killing me! – the 217km distance was 10 x 21km laps plus a small lap at the end, so from a mental point of view it was difficult.

I just got into a zone, enormously helped by my lovely Irish crew and went on to be the only finisher of the 135 mile race (217km) setting a new course record of 41hrs 34 mins and the first female to ever finish the race, so you can imagine I came away feeling very happy and my knee had held up without any pain – RESULT!

A HUGE BIG MARVELLOUS thank you goes to Philip, Lynne and Niall McMullan and Grainne McHenry for their amazing support.  I couldn’t have done it without you (and my wonderful iced coffee!) thank you from the bottom of my heart you guys were fantastic.

Last week I recovered, relaxed and had a sports massage, this week I will go back to running but only short distances to give my body a bit longer to recover before the big mileage kicks in again.

Thank you to the race organisers for putting on a great event and looking after me so well.

Happy training

Written by Mark Cooper - https://runwithmark.wordpress.com

The Devil o Highlands Footrace is a 42 mile Ultramarathon that takes place on the northern part of the West Highland Way from Tyndrum to Fort William. It is scenic and has over 7,000ft of ascent.

This was the first time I’ve ever run this part of the West Highland Way, the furthest north I had been on the route was to Tyndrum whilst running the Highland Fling. I have to be honest and say that when I left Edinburgh on Friday to head to Fort William I was feeling a little apprehensive about the race.

I felt that my preparations for this event had gone well, I had taken part in the Edinburgh Marathon in May and also completed a new event called Run100 an event that saw a small group of runners run from Inverness to the Skye Bridge. The terrain on Run100 was similar to the Devil O Highlands and I find that repeatedly running on tired legs is always good preparation for an ultra. I followed up Run100 by completing two long runs in the Pentland Hills following the Pentland Skyline route which over the course of 16 miles has over 6,000ft of ascent.

After checking into our hotel we headed out for dinner and then to bed for an early night, the bus that had been organised to take runners to the start line was due to leave at 4am so I didn’t want to risk missing it.

We arrived at Tyndrum and the Green Welly was already alive with excitement and the familiar buzz of runners just keen to get started. This is the part I dislike the most, waiting to start the race.

The Start

As soon as the race began I felt a sense of relief and normally I wouldn’t listen to any music whilst running but for an unknown reason I decided that today I would listen to my music for the duration of the run.

The first 6 miles were very runable, pleasant underfoot and the majority of this was flat. The first 6 miles to Bridge of Orchy would take just 51 minutes, I arrived at the 6 mile checkpoint feeling great and excited for the rest of the course.

I made it to Glencoe (mile 18) and I was feeling very hot, I had started with my OMM jacket on but after less than a mile I had to remove it, my top was drenched partly because of sweat but also because the Scottish weather was very damp and the air was wet with mist. I was delighted to see some familiar faces at the Glencoe checkpoint, Debbie Consani, Paul Giblin and Sharon Law. It was brilliant having some of the countries top ultra runners looking after us and their checkpoint was like a well oiled machine. Debbie stuffed by pack with my drop bag items and handed me a can of coke and simply said ‘you look like you need a can of coke’ (thanks Debbie!) I asked Sharon how far it was to the devils staircase and she said around 4 miles and that this was the best part of the course coming up but she also said that it was ‘a bit cheeky’…

I made a decision not to stop until I reached the bottom of the devils staircase then I would walk up it and take on some food/liquids. I had wanted to climb the devils staircase for years and finally I was getting my chance, the gift if reaching the top…a 6 mile downhill into Kinlochleven.

At the top of the Devils Staircase

Upon reaching the top of the staircase I was met by two people dressed as devils, I couldn’t work out if I was hallucinating but I decided to give them a wave and a hug as I was excited for the 6 miles down into Kinlochleven (KLL), finally some downhill!

There’s a well known phrase, be careful what you wish for and it definitely applies here, as I began my descent into KLL it became apparent that the path was not the soft, pine cone laden, muddy trail that I had hoped for but instead it was a path filled with wet, slippy rocks. I’m sure most of them had the potential to be ankle breakers and I felt like I kicked every single stone on the way down, it’s still unclear whether two of my toenails are going to survive the week after taking a beating on this section.

The third checkpoint where runners could get their drop bags was at KLL (mile 28) I had been happy to reach this checkpoint in 4hr 40mins which was 20 minutes faster that I had estimated. Unfortunately Ferelith hadn’t managed to get to the checkpoint in time to see me pass through, when she arrive I had already been and gone 10 minutes before. Up until this point I was feeling very well, I walked for roughly half a mile whilst I ate the contents of the drop bag before arriving at the bottom of a hill. Now, this is where it wen’t a bit pear shaped for me, having never run the route and being honest never having done any research on it I hadn’t factored in a big muckle hill at this point, turns out this was the biggest ascent of the day at 1,000ft in height and it completely took it out of my legs.

I lost over 14 places on this climb and it’s really given me food for thought on what areas of my running i need to improve and work on, uphill is definitely a must but not just running, simply hillwalking regularly would help me with this part of the ultra racing so that’s what I intend to do for my future races.

I found the section from KLL to Lundavra really tough, probably the hardest part for me, to give you some perspective it took me almost 3hr 30mins to run the last 14 miles, with the undulating route I simply couldn’t get into a rhythm.

After 42.5 miles and 8hrs 08mins of running I made it to Fort William and the finish line, I was aiming for 7hr 30m but as it was my first time I chose to give myself a break at the end and vow to be back next year faster and wiser and possibly wearing a triple crown. That will depend on whether I am lucky enough to get into the West Highland Way Race.

Finished!

Thank you to all who supporter and organised and to Ferelith for coming to support me.

Congratulations to Donnie and Caroline who took first places male and female.

Written by Tremayne Dill Cowdry - http://dill-runs.blogspot.co.uk

Around January time after the usual race refusals I was about to enter the Thames ring 250. I sat back and took a breath and pondered my reasons for doing it. All I could come up with was that there was nothing else that offered something new. That something new being the distance, but did it excite me. Sadly no, the thought of running that far seemed a chore. Oh I longed for the butterflies and giggly excitement a new challenge brings. That feeling you had before your first marathon or Ultra, that Christmas eve feeling, the TR250 didn't offer me that. Soon after I received an email from the Dragons back people about the race, I had butterflies just reading the race info. Within an hour of reading that I was in. My multi day experience was zero, my nav skill was minimal but I love the mountains and I love running of course. Perfect, it was on.

The build up months to this had been so exciting. I had been racing in the mountains, practicing my my nav and obtaining the necessary kit for the event. The event its self had cost a few quid so I was determined to save a bit on equipment. Below is the list of mandatory kit and what I used.




Mandatory hill kit


Waterproof jacket = Hagloffs LIM and Berghaus Vapour light smock
Waterproof trousers = Berghaus pack light and Inov-8 Race ultra pant
Survival bag = Poundland
Compass = Silva expedition 4
Headtorch = Silva trail runner 2
Whistle = On pack
Sufficient hill food = Each day spread across the running day I ate, 1 bag jelly babies, 3 Gu gels, 2 packs Tailwind, 1 small pack kids cooked rice or a pack of beef jerky and a bag of nuts and raisins.
Warm top = Cheap long sleeve top
Hat and gloves = Same hat and gloves I've had for ten years, All the climbing on day one wore holes in the fingers. Need new ones grrr.
Bottles = 2 x 500ml soft flasks
Pack = Inov8 race ultra 10
Shoes = Salomon fell raisers
I also had my phone, an etrex10 gps, waterproof marker pen and £50 incase of emergency.



There was also mandatory camp kit of all the usual stuff, sleeping bag, mattress, clothes, washing stuff, plate etc etc. All of your weeks camp kit had to go in a 59 ltr bag and you also had a 22 ltr resupply bag to keep your food in to resupply each day at the half way point. Most of my stuff was from decathlon or poundland and I saved a fortune on this.


I arrived in Conwy on Saturday to give me chance to relax for a bit prerace, the town was buzzing because of a local pirate festival taking place. The sun was out and it was gorgeous I sat by the estuary for a few hours in the heat of the day and watched the world pass by. After it cooled down a bit I went for a run on what I thought was the start route. Within a couple of streets I was heading out of town and up Conwy mountain, I passed a local who said "You won't be running in a minute, its bloody steep up there". I nodded and thought to myself, If only you knew. I ran up Conwy mountain and over to Sychnant pass where I turned and came back. Only a few miles but just a little confidence boost to make sure I started right.


On Sunday I got up and had a full English then I drove to Sycnant pass and hiked for a few miles just another little heads up on the race start. At 12.30 it was check in time at the Youth hostel, I grabbed my kit and headed there. It was fairly quiet and I soon was soon ushered to desk 1 to start the process. "Right, Photo id please". It was only by sheer miracle that I had my id, I had completely forgot I needed it!! Desk 2 was to get your number. Desk 3 was manned by my good buddy Andy Nuttall who was attaching trackers to packs. Well the tracker was more of a lunchbox and it had to go on our shoulder. We taped it to my pack and I tried it, it was digging in but what could I say? I had looked enough of a nob doing kit runs around Maidstone if I had been practicing having a lunch box on my shoulder I think I would have felt like a complete tosser! Desk 4 was manned by Stuart Smith who was part of the Nav4 team that helped train some of us. Cracking bloke who's incredibly friendly, he was attaching dibbers. I then signed my life away on the waiver and it was done. Checked in. I disappeared back to the harbour for a few hours before the race brief. The race brief was rammed and Shane the RD soon got to work explaining the rules and pointers. The race is fairly strict and rules need to be stuck too. Any discrepancies and you will be disqualified. One of the main parts that stood out was being able to differentiate between farmers land and open fell, which I was unaware of. Basically if you cut across a farmers field you would be disqualified. I had been a bit naïve about this and had assumed you could go anywhere. This added another dimension to the nav. The rest was pretty obvious stuff and we soon had to vacate the room to make way for dinner. I need a certain amount of peace and quiet prerace to take stock of the impending race so I decided to head in to town for a quiet meal and an early night.




Day 1

Nervous start

I headed up to Conwy castle and chucked my resupply bag in and we were ushered into the main castle. It started to rain, my nerves were bouncing around like no ones business. As we walked to the start area in the centre of the castle we were handed our day 1 map, shit it looked daunting! I was now crapping myself this map covered miles and miles with massive ascents and descents, it was mental, the area I had run on the Saturday was the first tiny section. The map was about two and a half foot long and the section I ran was an inch. This looked epic! The map was a Harveys 1:40000 and that gives good detail but all you get is a small red circle where each checkpoint is and a very brief description of its position. I couldn't speak, my eyes flicked across the map, what the hell have I done? I can't navigate this!! Time was flying by and my usual prerace chatting was replaced with a feeling of doom as I stared at this monster map. The choir had started belting out their tunes and it was followed by a speech from the mayor. Christ this thing is about to start and I feel like a tiny fish in a bloody huge ocean!
Next thing I know we are off and heading out through the castle and along the castle wall. We dropped down on to the road headed towards Conwy mountain, I was just running everything was going so fast, my plan to start walking and navigate from the off was out the window I was swept along in the fast pace. Cp1 was soon passed and we headed out to Sycnant pass and dibbed Cp2. We then took a different route to what I had anticipated and was running across open fell. The weather was grotty and the cloud was low just what I hadn't wanted but I stuck with the line of runners which soon thinned and we reached our first main peak, Tal y Fan. Around this point I was joined by Michelle Bowen, she was trying to nav using her Ambit and getting frustrated with the time it was taking.  The route to Drum was ok visibility was poor but I felt more confident, although still not using the map properly, Me and Michelle ran along the path that connect the summits, this is no way to navigate, just assuming that a path would take you where you want to go. We hit Foel Fras before heading into the Carnedds, visability had got worse and was down to about 20mtrs. We fumbled our maps and ran in the gloom trying to keep with other faster runners, Michelle fell and I lost us on the map. This is not how it was supposed to be! That moment in the Carnedds I remembered a comment I'd heard about not just following the crowd like sheep. I stopped and said to Michelle, lets stop get a grid reference pinpoint ourselves on the map and navigate properly. This became my mantra for the week "Don't be sheep", If ever I started following someone I would stop and navigate myself. Primarily because they might not have a clue and secondly that is why I'm here to be able to nav across open fell. The navigation was tough as was the running but we got to Pen yr Ole Wen, high above the Ogwen valley. At this early stage I was surprised to see runners going in all sorts of directions not navigating just winging it hoping to stumble on the checkpoint or to tag on the back of someone else. Coming off of Pen yr Ole Wen you can either go the safe way to the left which is longer or the knarly rocky way to the right of course I went right. We descended for about 45mins before hitting the support point in the valley floor, about 6 or 7 hours had passed.

Crib Goch

Michelle and I decided on a relatively short stop and kind of agreed to stick together for the day, visibility was still poor and the nav was difficult so two heads were better than one. We headed straight out of the carpark and started the massive ascent of Tryfan, a steep rocky mountain, It seemed to go up for ever! As we reached the top, I lost the obvious way and kind of shimmied around the sheer rock face, I hate heights and Tryfans summit just seemed to be a pinnacle of rock with no obvious way off. I was nervous. As I scrambled about I smashed my knee on a rock, a big chunk of skin peeled back and blood gushed, the adrenaline was coursing though and I strangely felt no pain after the initial burst of nerve jangling agony. We made our way off the summit and headed for the Glyders, the visibility was now about 10 mtrs. We were doing an amazing amount of climbing and I was getting tired, we reached Glyder Fach but couldn't find the summit. I pinpointed us and using the compass pinpointed the summit which I passed out exactly, however it was on top of a massive pile of rocks and I thought well It can't be up there, so after 20mins of faffing I decided to climb the rocks and found it on the top. What a relief! We climbed the second Glyder and took a direct line off the summit straight across the open fell towards Pen-y-pass. I lost Michelle on the descent but also missed the youth hostel coming out further down the road. I tracked back up the road and checked in at the hostel. I stood in the carpark scanning the map and realized I still had the Snowdon horseshoe to complete. I had hiked it a few years previous with my brother and I knew it was tough but right now I had already been going for about 9hrs and I was tired. How was I going to do this? and still be alright for another four days?? I headed up the Pyg track, caught Michelle who had taken a more direct line towards Pen y pass and we were soon climbing towards Crib goch. Crib goch is a hard slog and the top is a knarly knife edge of rock which we had to scramble across. My fear of heights soon surfaced again and I was trembling as I picked my way across the summit. The cloud had lifted and there were some great views to be had. We carried through and went up Snowdon, back into the clouds, it was cold up there and I got some strange looks as I jogged through the freezing mist in shorts and a tee shirt. We then descended and ascended two more summits before finally dropping down to camp. I was crushed we'd done about 35mile and been on the go for roughly 12 hours. I wandered into camp and was shown to my tent by the ever friendly Andy Nuttall. I sat on the floor and ate some chips. My god I was knackered.

I am so scared of heights

Camp consisted of loads of sleeping tents, mess tent, food tent, medic tent, finish tent and some toilets. After each day you come down to the finish tent and get dibbed in for the day. As soon as you've dibbed you get a print out of your days splits. As you walk through a marshal has your bags ready and carries them to your tent. Then you need to sort yourself out quick and prioritise what is important. Wash? Eat? Change? Organise? Personally for me I need sleep so my number one priority was to get sorted asap to unable me to get to bed fast. So my first night I got in about 7pm ate some chips and drank lots of fluid. I headed for the single shower only to find 5 other runners queuing so I abandoned washing. I then went to the food tent and ate some chilli and cous cous. Most of it ended up on my lap though as my bowl broke and had a hole in the bottom, not my best poundland purchase. Nothing a bit of duct tape couldn't sort. I didn't hang about in the mess tent though, I headed back to my tent and sorted my kit out for the next day. Time was ticking and I was shattered so I blew up my mattress and dived into my bag, I must have been asleep within minutes. My tent roomie Fabrice came in about midnight and smacked me in the face with his mattress, no problem though he'd obviously had a hard day too.


Day 2


My alarm had been set for 5am but I didn't need it, Another of my roomies Hisayuki would be up at 4.30 to wake us all with his clattering of kit. I was up and out the tent by 5 to get breakfast but the queue was massive for eggs. As I queued I had my porridge made which I ate in the queue before grabbing my egg sarnie and tea which I wolfed down. There really was no hanging about in the morning because the midges were out in force and I am talking millions of them! If you stood still for more than a few seconds they covered you, each one giving you a friendly nip. I spoke briefly to Michelle to see if she wanted to team up for the day, she agreed and we packed up kit, dumped our bags in before collecting the map for the day.

Just another massive ascent

I had asked Joe Faulkner if day 1 was the toughest, he said without hesitation that day 2 was tougher. Looking at the map it didn't look too bad so I wondered what he was on about? I was soon to find out. We headed out of camp on the mandatory route before hitting the first massive ascent of the day, Cnicht. My legs were still sore from the previous day and climb was long and hard, but it was a lovely clear morning and the views were gorgeous. On the summit we could see the next summit across a massive valley it was the first of the Moelwyns. The easiest way to it was to do a massive loop staying on high ground but it was still a trek. We were loving it though, peace and quiet and brilliant mountain running. We descended Moelwyn Mawr and quickly ascended Moelwyn Bach. No messing now we were flying. The run down to Cp4 at the reservoir was great, I love smashing the down hills and this was no exception. I have worked a lot on downhills in training and I can sprint down most slopes. Michelle was exceptional on the ascents and I would try and tuck in behind her and we powered up them but I may have just had the edge on the descents and I think she was just fine tearing down behind me. We were making a good team.
The section between CP4 and 5 is massive and very hard to pick a route, we broke it down into smaller navigational pieces of say 3 miles before making a new plan. Soon down the track we bumped into Richard Leahy, a good friend and someone who'd actually done some recceing. We chatted and ran with his group, but we ran past our turning, Richard had another way. As we continued down the track we stopped, looked at each other and realized we were doing it again, Being sheep! We turned round and ran back up the hill to our intended route. I said to Michelle that I might title my blog "Don't be sheep" she replied "The Dragon eats sheep!"
We reached a road section and discussed our route options, there were a few but we agreed a route and ran on. Part of this involved passing through a massive forest on a minor footway. Bad move! We ran and circled and ended up going the wrong way, Michelle got the hump with this and said we should have gone straight across a large section of hilly, boggy, heathery crap. Totally not our plan but I rolled with it. My god it was awful, about 4 miles of all of the above. We were scratched, bumped, bitten and covered in shit. Also it was a nightmare to nav because everything looked the same. We were criss crossing with Charlie Sharp, Ed Catmur and a few others all running round like headless chickens. Ed streaked ahead but we soon caught him, he was laying down? It transpired he had put his foot right between some boulders and tore his shin open. The gash was big and to the bone. Luckily out of the 5 of us there 1 was some sort of medic and quickly patched him up. Mind you Ed was going nowhere, he could barely shuffle let alone run on the toughest terrain ever. Eds race was over, one of us managed to get a mobile signal and called for help. The emergency team were on their way. As the weather was fine so we felt ok to leave and press on.
Just a quick explanation about the conditions under foot, we experienced just about everything from Tarmac to rock climbing during the event. We had long grass, short grass, tussocks, bog, rock, boulder fields, heather, thistles, scree, high exposed ridges and river crossings just about everything! Unless you knew the best route pretty much the whole time was spent cross country, either going up, down or across a slope. You fall over a lot and Michelle and I had our fair share of tumbles. Also much to Michelle's annoyance my style of navigation is to go the shortest route, across or through anything. If I could see a summit, we would be heading straight for it! Sod the long trail all the way round. This just added to the cuts, grazes and falls.
We eventually dropped into CP5 after a 4 hour section it was about 8 hours in total to the half way point of day 2. We continued into the Rhinogs and quickly disposed of the first one, on the approach to the second we reached a lake and the summit was high up to our left. The easy but long way was to take a steady climb straight ahead then double back but I was having none of that. There was a near vertical rock fall to our left, direct to the summit. We climbed that way, it was one of the high lights of the day for me. We climbed two more summits and as we descended off of Diffwys we were tired, extremely tired! We had a measure of the map and worked out we had a 5 mile undulating run back to the camp, it was murder and after the previous day I felt I had nothing left, I was running on empty but we made it after about 14 hours and 35 miles on the go. My god that was a hard, hard day.
A lot of people had dropped including half our tent. I had thought that guts and determination could get you through this but you also can't be a slouch. I can happily run a LDWA 30 miler in under 5hrs but we were averaging 7,8 or 9 hours over the marathon distance during this event. People were getting timed out and injuries were becoming more common place. Shane had said half the field wouldn't finish, I was beginning to understand. My roomie Fabrice had dropped too with shredded feet, Fabrice has finished just about every mountain race Europe has to offer including Tour de Geants and he told me this was harder than any of them.


Day3

Today was a subdued start, Michelle and I headed out at our now to be usual 6.30 and very little was said, we were tired from the previous two days. I had really sore feet from the previous days and Michelle's knee resembled an elephants head. The climb from camp was long and we spoke with everyone briefly on the route up. Visibility on the top was poor and I hadn't really followed the map too good. The first 5 miles of each day were the worst for me so I would rely a bit on Michelle to get us on the right route. As we reached what I thought was the summit Michelle ran off, no map talk just run. I was a tad disorientated so I followed her as quick as I could force myself until we reached the summit. I re-orientated myself and suddenly had a burst of energy, there was a large group of us and I led the running like It was day 1. We cruised along the ridge and any pain I had dissipated, I was having a moment, the sublime moment when running is the easiest thing in the world. Me, Michelle and an American guy, Travis pulled away from the pack and I navigated us on the move to Craig-y-llyn. Such was our pace I had already naved the next section too, we crested summit in the cloud and hit the summit square on. "Right lets not piss about, we are going this way" I stated. We descended the fence line flat out. Half way down we were buzzed by the camera drone, You knew your on the right route if you either see the drone or Ian the photographer pops up and starts snapping. We picked up another American guy, Kevin after the next Cp. Kevin was the guy pictured in the Times during race week. Kevin's reply to anything that you try to tell him is "I know", he made for tough conversation but the four of us were to spend the rest of day 3 together.

I love a scramble

We were still in thick clag and navigating along a tree line, one thing I know about navigating is that it is a nightmare naving through large forests, paths disappear, you become disorientated, everything looks the same and before you know it you are lost! So we did our best to stay out the forests. There was soon a break in the trees, I took a bearing and before they knew it we had hooked a left and we were hammering down an over grown hillside, after a few hundred metres descent we were straight back up the other side through thick heather. Not the easiest route but very direct. It was about a 5 mile run into Machynlleth from here and I had a major wobble. The high I had been feeling had passed and because I hadn't eaten properly, I hit a wall. The others were running good into town and I was about 50mtrs back plodding it out, preying for the Support point.
After refuelling we had a long and uneventful run to a couple more checkpoints, everyone was feeling it after the stop so I was happy with the run walk strategy. We had a last large climb and again we plumped for the direct route, my it was rubbish, the grass was 2 foot high and where I was lifting  my legs so high to walk I felt a ripple of pain from my thigh. Shit, I'd defo torn something, I just preyed it wasn't bad. We left the final cp and ran down the ridge through the cloud. " Stop", Travis yelled. "I didn't dib" he said. After much deliberation it was decided he had to run back to make double sure. It was too cold to hang on we had to move forward, Trav would have to go back then catch us up, Gutted! I kept looking back but couldn't see him, fair play to him though, he went back, dibbed and caught us just before the finish. As we entered the finishing funnel and dibbed for the final time we checked Travs splits for the day and he had indeed hit the last Cp twice, 10 minutes apart. Oh how he laughed ;-) It was a good day otherwise, a runners day, we had covered about 44 miles, naved well and got back in about 13 hrs. That was more like it. I had really sore legs after today and felt the best thing would be to spend most of the evening stretching, I ate some food and retired to the midge proof tent where I stretched for about an hour, possibly the longest I'd ever done it. My thigh was niggling but I was optimistic I would stretch it out.

Still smiling

In general we were going alright, we were still strong, people were dropping like flies but we were holding it together and speeding up slightly with each day. The Dragons back is definitely one not to be rushed. It really is a hare and tortoise type of race.


Day4

Todays map was massive! I'm talking the size of a table top! These bloody maps take some folding, todays was an OS map as opposed to the Harvey we had gotten used too over the past three days.
Cloud was low this morning and it was pretty dreary we were full on naving right off the bat, 10 mtr visibility, no features, take a bearing and make sure you hit your target. We nailed the first section and was soon passing the 6am starters many of whom were circling in the mist. We hit the corner of the forest bang on target but our worst nightmare, no path! We decided to cut through the steep forest on a bearing and pick up the main track. We found the path, changed direction and was bang on track. We reached a break in the path and a group had started to follow us. The features we could see looked right and just as we moved on up the track one of the following group yelled "this is all wrong" "we haven't covered the distance you think we have. With that the group turned on its heels and went the other way. Again Michelle and I assumed we were wrong and followed the group. Doh! The upshot was that we wasted about 20 minutes doing a massive circle to rejoin the original path further up. How annoying!! Don't be Sheep!!!
We eventually found the top and the checkpoint, we were in the middle of a massive wind farm. The tracks were clear on the map, the route was to cut across country and pick up the tracks as we went. Travis who incidentally joined us again for the day agreed but Michelle totally disagreed, she was having none of it. She insisted we should follow the tracks which was clearly further on the map? Hmm we were having a moment here. We discussed it for a minute and we weren't budging we were about to go our own way, At that moment there was clarity, Did it matter? No. Did I have to get my way? No. It was pretty irrelevant, in the grand scheme of things harmony and getting this thing done was important so we headed off down the track and after a couple of miles of silence I cracked open some jelly babies and normal service resumed.
The rest of the morning went quite smooth, some good running was to be had and our nav was good only having a minor mishap just before halfway. Travis had been quiet all morning and had rarely looked at the map, normal during a race when you have a bad patch you just suck it up and plod it out following the markers. During the Dragons Back if you have a bad patch you still have to nav or things are going to get a whole lot worse so if you can hitch on the back of someone elses navigation, that's a good thing, as long as you trust the leaders skills. He apologised for not getting involved before explaining he had the worst shin splints ever and judging by the red swelling he wasn't exaggerating. He asked me what I thought, well I knew he was in agony just by looking at his contorted face, all I could say was for him to forget the navigation and stick with us, get the day done, plod it out. At the half way point we sorted our stuff and filled bottles, Travis was hanging back and said he was going to stop with the medic and get strapped up. No your not I told him if you don't crack on now your days going to get worse now suck it up and lets move. He rubbed some ibruprofen gel on his wounds and we moved.

Innit lovely

I was having a good day really, I'd managed to sort my sore feet out, energy levels were good, I was running well, naving well and any leg niggles I had I'd managed to stretch out the night before. All was well with the Cowdry body. Michelle was doing ok too, her knee was a swollen mess and crunching a bit but she is a machine and complained very little at all. I had been drinking from any source of running water I could find and today I think I pushed it a little too far and drunk from what can only be described as a puddle. Oh boy was I going to regret that! We had a cracking run down off the last bit of high ground and was joined by a team of Americans a couple of whom had completed the 2012 event we chatted and run all the way down to the road. At the road we went to go left and they went to go right. There was no way they were right, the only way to go was left, We agreed to differ and went our separate ways, having had a little sportsmans wager on the best route. The running was good, part road, part trail and we munched the miles away. As we approached the last road section Travis was dropping further back and as the route was obvious it was time to leave him to hobble in, 6 miles of tarmac is a long way to walk! That 6 miles smashed my feet and joints though, that far on road in a pair of trail shoes is not good. I was glad to finish that section, about 12 hrs and maybe 45 miles we'd done ok. My legs were sore back in camp so as we were right next to a river I thought it'd be a good idea for a dip. I dived in. Shit!!! It was freezing, I got back out, warmed up then dived straight back in. I was so cold the pain just disappeared. I ate, sorted kit and sat chatting to Fabrice for an hour while I stretched. I don't know what effect the cold water had on my legs but all I could feel was pain. Excruciating, eye watering muscle pain. I was invited by a marshal to visit the medics tent but what use would that be? "Does it hurt mate" "Yes" "Hmmm do you want to pull out" "No" "Ok bye then". Instead I rolled into my sleeping bag and hoped I'd be ok in the morning. Incidentally Travis rolled in about 30 minutes after us having walked, crawled and with gritted teeth dragged himself to the end, he even commented on walking one steep down hill backwards just to relieve his shins. As for the group of Americans they came in 45 minutes after us having done an extra 5 mile of road!


Day5

Oh happy days, the last leg, surely this thing is done, its in the bag! Travis was going to walk it in so it was just Michelle and I today.

Start gate

We set off full of high spirits and jogged our way up the road away from camp, talk turned to what we would eat and drink when we finished a conversation reserved strictly for the last day. All I truly wanted was a cold can of diet coke and maybe a burger. Mmmm. We soon climbed the first summit which was half the size of some from earlier in the week. The Nav was simple, the running easy we soon started overtaking the 6am starters. We picked an easy route and the run to the support point was a pleasure. The support point had only just been set up, I had saved some chocolate all week for the last day so it was a real treat to eat that as we run away from the Cp.
Today must have been set as an easy route, there was nothing that could stop us finishing now.

The climb to Cp5 was long and steady, there was little in the way of paths or trods so we took a direct line towards the ridge that would lead to the summit, the wind was picking up and the tops were shrouded in cloud, the temperature was dropping and there was a few spots of rain in the air. What I have learnt is to try and make a call on the weather at the top before you get there, if you don't it is very difficult to get your kit out while it is blowing a hoolie. I could feel the weather was turning and stopped on our ascent to get my coat out, the first time all week I've had to do so.

The first view of our destination

As we reached the top of the steep approach the wind was whistling, visibility was gone and we took our bearing and found the Cp. The weather suddenly got worse as we moved to the next, we descended slightly and a few runners ahead turned left to contour the hill, we decided that it would be better to hold our line and carry on forward back up top. We had been joined by another runner who was part of the Berghaus relay team and the chit chat we were having soon stopped dead as the rain decided to lash in. This was serious stuff, it was cold, wet, windy and we were on high ground with no visibility. We took a grid reference to double check our position and then followed a bearing direct to the next cp, trying to run all the time so not to get cold. We were joined by another runner and we double checked our bearing, we were ok we ran on and nailed the Cp. We stopped briefly picking a route and taking a bearing in seconds before running on. There were four of us running and the pace was too fast to nav properly, I was getting frustrated, the weather was horrible and I was just following someone else again. At this point the leaders came belting through and two of our four picked up the pace to jump in on their group. We could no longer keep up and I was losing it, what had been a dead cert finish was now a battle against the elements just to get through. We carried on what I thought was the bearing but it didn't feel right, I hadn't eaten or drunk because I dare not open my coat so as soon as I saw a rock sheltering us from the wind I decided I had to stop and eat. We stopped I put on an extra layer, ate, drunk and orientated myself. We re-joined the weather and after a long cold slog we hit the Cp, what a relief!! That section between Cp 6 and 7 had been the scariest of the whole week, I let my guard down and the weather came up and bit me on the arse. We had been joined on the summit by another group who headed off too the right, we took our bearing and it appeared to be way left of where they went so we went our way and hit the road in no time at all. The rain had subsided but visibility was zero so we had to take a direct bearing to the next cp straight through rough heather and rock, I paced this section so not to miss our mark, we were spot on. We were on our way to the last cp and tried to run on a bearing but the terrain was awful and I soon had one of the biggest falls of the week, I went right over and reopened the gash in my knee and scuffed my thighs on the rock, I lay there buckled on the floor and had to laugh on the inside, what an adventure. As we reached the last summit the cloud cleared and the wind stopped, we could see the castle! I had a real feeling of emotion and a shiver went down my spine right at that moment, we stopped at the trig and both silently stared at the castle, this really was in the bag now.

The last few steps

The run up to the castle was steep but half way up we decided a run was In order so we ran all the way. My wife was there taking photos and we ran into the castle and dibbed in for a final time. It was done, we had completed the The Dragons Back race! Around 35miles and 11hours for the day, 24th place overall in 59hrs 37mins 18secs.

In the carpark we had ice cream and diet coke it was heaven, the sun was beaming and the crap weather was long since gone. We were ferried to the rugby club for hot showers, clean clothes and more coke. As we sat in the bar I noticed some movement on my legs, I had ticks feeding on me! Then from her bag Michelle's mum pulled out a tick remover, Who the hell has a tick remover on their person? Michelle's mum that's who. The presentation came and went and we headed to our hotel, no more camping for me this week. I was done.

The A team

Ooo ice cream

I coped really well during the week, we paced it perfectly from the first day. My body held up well and when I did get macerated feet I managed to deal with it and not make it a major problem. I felt if we had had to go out for another day I could have. There was guys running who usually beat me at mountain races and they did again on days 1 and 2 but because I looked after myself I was able to pass them later in the week and they had no response, that felt good ;-) Also I was very pleased with my navigation, there is room for improvement but going from novice to Dragons back in six months, I'll take that, it has certainly opened many doors race wise. Teaming up was really not what I had intended to do but meeting Michelle had just worked right, I'm an ok male runner and she is a very good female runner our pace was matched perfectly. When either of us had a low the other pushed on, pulling the other through it. We both had to compromise too which is hard when you are both mentally very strong. She liked running on good trails where I would just cut straight across the direct route, both strategies had their pluses and minuses. Anyway thanks for a great week Michelle.

That's what its all about.

This race was made to look easy by the elite but be under no illusion it is tough. Had the weather been really bad for the week I know there would have been far fewer finishers. Two of the toughest out there were Travis who virtually power marched the final day in horrendous pain but got to the finish and my pal Richard Leahy who did more hours than most out there, he was first out and last in and suffered massively with his feet these guys epitomise mental strength and my hat goes off to you.
It has been a week since the race and I have started running again if only a few miles but I have picked something up from the water and have had terrible stomach issues. I'm awaiting results from the doc who reckons its probably a parasite and should shift in about 10 days.
This is the point where I usually get negative about my performance but not this time, I feel I did good and I absolutely loved the event. Sometimes everything clicks into place and you find a gem of a race, well the Dragons back is that race. Will I come back in 2017, too right I will I can't wait.

Written by Gemma Bragg - http://www.themindandmanymiles.com

Well where do you start to write about this… what a race, pure adventure!
I was extremely nervous the days leading up to this race, in fact Jez said that he has never seen me so nervous, I wasn’t even as nervous on our wedding day! I think the nerves were for a number of reasons, there are so many aspects to have to think about during this race and you are not allowed any outside assistance otherwise you get disqualified, so you really need to get it right.
Firstly you have to think about the right kit, the Yorkshire Moors are notoriously wet, windy and misty on the higher ground, unless you are a front runner you will be running well into the night, so you have to think about being warm enough for the night section. You then have to think about the navigation of which is not a forte of mine… the race is not marked, a lot of the land is privately owned and only opened once a year for the sole purpose of this race, so for a lot of the race there is no ‘well trodden’ path, well in fact for most of the race there is no path/ track at all, it is just a case of pick a route on the map and follow it. You may reach a peak and then go down and see other runners going down a completely different route to you. There are also walls which you have to climb over and barbed wire fences that you would usually not consider clambering over and question whether you had gone the right way, but for this race you go over them. There is no one out there cutting the barbed wire down or sign posting you over a wall.

feeling relatively fresh in the earlier stages of the race!

I knew that the race entry took up to 500 runners; they aim to have 450 runners on the start line, as each year there is a large number who can’t make it on the day of the race due to injury or some other reason, statistically there is usually 350- 400 that line the start on race day. There is often a high drop out during the race, looking back over previous years, around a 1/3 of runners that start, voluntarily drop out during the course. The race also spreads out pretty quickly, with the front runners finishing in a time consisting of 10hours + something minutes and the end runners finishing in over 24hours. This means that there may be large sections where there are not many, if any people around you in the race. I found that there were actually a lot of runners who came as a two and ran the whole race together, in fact there appeared to be more people in a pair opposed to sole runners.
About 5 weeks prior to the race, I had driven up to the Moors with Jez and run some sections to get an idea of the terrain, that weekend the weather had not let us down with strong winds, rain and big mist meaning you couldn’t see 10ft in front of you. Although it was good for me to get a ‘feel’ for what was in store in terms of the terrain, the fog and mist had increased my anxiety as it would make it very difficult to be able to see other runners, let alone follow them so I really did need to know where I was going! On most races that you do, there are markers- taping, sign posts etc but I guess this is what makes this race so unique. It is not just about testing your endurance and strength- it’s about your navigation skills too or your ability to seek out other runners and befriend them!
I guess these factors were all that added to my nerves. I remember going up to watch Jez race the Fellsman 2 years ago in 2011 and I actually thought ‘I don’t think I could do this race’, the course is extremely rough, the amount of road running is probably about 5% give or take and trails 15%, the rest bog and moorland. However 2 years on I found myself toeing the start line with 350+ other runners taking on the challenge and adventure of The Fellsman…with purely one aim in my mind to get to the finish.
When you check in on the day you are given a tally card, with 24 check points which you tie around your neck. There are some big check points on the lower sections and on the summits and along the high ground there is a small tent with usually two volunteers huddled inside that chip your tally, and if you don’t get every tally chipped then you don’t finish the race. Therefore if you go off course and miss a check point then you are disqualified. The volunteers of this race are amazing, huddled up in a small tent on the summits through the night, or at the bigger check points preparing bread and jam, soup, tea/ coffee, custard creams….
We were able to check our kit in the night before to save time on race morning. Race day we made our way by catching a coach which the race organisers had put on to a village hall in Ingleton, where the race was to start from. Everyone huddled in the hall at the start, eating their breakfast, it was wet and cold outside and I was a bundle of nerves. We were all then led out to the field ready to start at 08:30am, first tally point chipped and we were off.

Nervously awaiting the start of The Fellsman

The first climb I found pretty tough and a technical decent, a lot of rocks and clambering going on. It had rained heavy the day before and through the night, so was super slippery. The top of the climb you could not see a thing, thick fog and wind; I must admit I did think, ‘what have I signed myself up for?’ However down into the next valley and the weather began to improve. The second climb I felt stronger and the fog was less dense on the top, I found that I began to move more easily and descended happily off the second summit. I ran the first half of the race pretty much on my own, although there were generally one or two runners in sight; I was surprised how quickly the field spread out. On my way up the fourth climb I met a chap called Lee he had not done this race before either and we ran a bit together, coming off the fourth climb and down into Redshaw, a few other chaps descended with us. I was keen to stay with someone across Dodd Fell and Fleet Moss as it is easy to lose direction and choose the wrong path on these sections, through the bog. Coming down into Fleet Moss check point I felt my body hit a bit of a low, so was glad to fuel up at this point. I actually consumed quite a lot of fuel during this race, roughly; 2 Marsbars, 2 Yorkie bars (although Jez tells me there just for men!), 4 slices of bread and jam, soup and bread, pieces of wrap filled with Nutella (which I had prepared the night before), 2 slices of cake, a slice of amazing homemade flapjack (made by one of the volunteers), bowl of rice pudding, jelly babies and about over half a dozen custard creams! There aren’t many days in the calendar year where I eat 4 chocolate bars, 2 slices of cake, a handful of biscuits and a slice of flapjack and don’t feel an ounce of guilt! I also made sure I kept my water pack filled at each check point- I had electrolyte tablets in here, and also took a few salt tablets and I drank about 8 cups of squash and a tea.
I ended up going across Fleet Moss with two guys that had done the race 4x before, therefore I knew they would have a good idea about what route to take through this section, we decided to go around the edge opposed to through the middle, although this is slightly longer, it saves going through the thick of the bog, which really zaps your energy. I felt comfortable through these sections; I was slower on the climbs but felt I made up time on the descents and flatter sections across the tops.
At dusk it is the rule of the race that you get grouped, this is for safety reasons. Navigation is difficult at the best of times, but in the pitch black with just a head torch to lead the way that’s another ball game all together. Although some people don’t like this rule, as you have to stay within 10m of your group at all times, I was extremely happy about it and felt a lot safer and happier in a group then I would have going at it alone at night, I may well still be on the moors somewhere if this hadn’t been a rule. As it was I ran into Cray checkpoint just after 8pm with 4 guys I had already been running with for about 3hours, so we automatically got grouped at this point. Just 16 more miles to go and 2 more climbs. I layered up my clothing at this point, had some soup and bread and then we headed up the next climb. When we got to the summit we all got our head torches out and started the next descent. Although a lot of people who run the Fellsman come back each year, probably about ¾ of the entrants have raced the Fellsman before, I found myself in a group where none of us had run the race before, unlucky? May be, but at the same time it was a lovely group and I knew whatever happened we would get to the finish at some point, so I was happy. We did take a slight detour off this summit and in the dark it really does make it a lot harder, as you can’t see other runners, in less they are close enough to see their head torches. You can’t see landmarks- fences etc, so it is going on bearings alone and trusting that. However we did find the right path in the end and joined on to a couple of other groups that had taken perhaps the more direct route off the summit , in to the last big checkpoint, Park Rash before the final climb. Here I met Jez who had long finished his race, showered and come out to meet me.

The last big checkpoint, before heading out for the final climb

When we got to the summit of the last climb, it had turned a bit foggy and although there had been another group of runners just ahead we soon lost them. The volunteers in the tent at the summit directed us to go about 30m to the left (I think it was) and we would hit a fence, to then follow the side of this fence all the way down to the path. However we didn’t find the fence and ended up going off course, through more bog. I thought we were never going to see the red beaker light (which flashes from the check points in the dark) but we kept moving forward and down, over a few more little hills and eventually there was a light and was I happy to see the light, although it seemed a long way off, so I still had a little doubt in my mind that it might be a car somewhere, but as we got closer it was definitely a checkpoint, relief. The final 6miles were down hill, 4 miles to the final checkpoint and then 2 miles of road (a real novelty in this race) to the finish.

Having my tally clipped at the last checkpoint

at the finish with the four chaps I had been grouped with for the section through the night

We made it to the finish in Grassington in just over 17 hours and what an epic journey, race and adventure it had been. The Fellsman for me really was a challenge and that’s why I do these races and what I love about these races; and that’s why I get so nervous the days leading up to the start, because they take you out of your comfort zone, they test you and they push you and at the end you sigh and you think ‘I did it’ and you sit down and you drink tea and you reflect on it for days to come.
I would like to thank Jonathon for organising and leading this amazing event, for all the Volunteers who without, there is no way this race could happen and to the Scouts for supporting this event for the last 52 years! If you want to find out more details about The Fellsman, then this is their website www.fellsman.org.uk
Will I be back again….? You bet I’ll be back