I hope I give good ultra running advice, hints and tips because I’ve shared them far and wide with runners from first timers to the grizzled and battered. I’ve had every kind of experience in ultra marathons, desert, trail, mountain, ice, long distance, short distance, DNS, DNF and even the odd finish and each one has given me an experience that I’ll mostly never forget.
Here’s the thing though, I don’t learn from my experiences and I don’t listen to my own advice and when I declared at the registration of the Ranger Ultras White (South) Peaks 50km that I was likely to be the worst runner there, that was not an exaggeration.
I am the worst ultra runner I’ve ever met and I’ve met a lot of ultra runners.
This is the story of why I’m both the worst and most idiotic ultra runner I’ve ever met, welcome to the Ranger Ultras Peaks Double Review, well half a review…
I had lots of titles vying for the dubious honour of being on the top of this blog post but I think the chosen one, 2 races, 1 start, 0 medals cuts right to the heart of it and summed it up best. The truth of it is, I made a mistake in attempting to run last weekend and it looks like it will prove to be a costly one in terms of running over the coming weeks and months. In my haste to return to the awesome Ranger Ultras events I have left myself broken and there is only person responsible for that – me, which is exactly what I said to the lovely nurse who was looking at me on Monday night.
Now while this blog post is intended to be supremely self indulgent, as all my posts are, there is also the event to discuss. Now for those of you who’ve read about either my Pennine Bridleway 55 (read about it here) or Yorkshire Three Peaks Ultra (read about it here) reviews you’ll know that I’m a massive fan of the people and the events at Ranger Ultras and I’m pleased to say that after my Day 1 White Peaks 50km my opinion remains steadfastly the same.
All the things that I loved about the earlier events were replicated here; friendly, cosy and professional but I’ll add another descriptor here that I perhaps haven’t used previously – family.
Ranger Ultras feels like family, and not the kind you want to strangle over the festive turkey, the kind that helps, supports and nurtures, and though this may sound odd when you’re for the most part, surrounded by strangers, it feels like the best description of the experience you get at one of their events.
However, I’ve jumped forward a little so let’s head back to 10.48pm the previous evening as I tried to get to sleep before my alarm would go off at 11.42pm for a 12.20am departure. I couldn’t sleep, I tossed and turned a bit, but it was that thing where no matter how hard you try you just can’t get to sleep and so a few minutes before my alarm was destined to go off I got showered and readied myself. My late night pre-race travel routine consisted of said shower, having a chocolate milkshake, some Skyr super berry yoghurt, drinking a shitload of coffee, making a 2 litre flask of caffeine laden rocket fuel and sitting on the porcelain throne hoping to have a clear out of the delicious but rather spicy homemade lentil dahl I’d spent most of the previous four days eating. Well the consumption part of this routine was fine but much like the wolf who tried to blow down the piggies brick built house I wasn’t having any success and I so I left the toilet free of a splattering.
Google indicated my arrival would be pre 6am with no stops and so I kept my foot on the floor and listened once more to the insanity that is early hours of the morning BBC Radio 5 Live. Topics included; sum up your weekend in three words, the rental market crisis and men’s mental health – in the end I turned it off in favour of singing along to Benny, Bjorn, Angneta and Frida on ABBA Voyage; very enjoyable.
Despite closures on the M6 and several accidents, rain and general exhaustion in my driving I did indeed arrive pre-6am to the Edale car park and home of the Ranger Ultras HQ for the duration of the weekend. Once there I made quick work of the pay and display and even quicker work of getting changed into my race day gear because it was bloody freezing in the car park. What I didn’t do was make the mistake of getting all my gear tightly packed up as I knew that there was likely going to be a proper kit check.
With registrations open I made my way inside where I was to be greeted by the ever sprightly and wonderfully warm RD Stu Westfield who reminded me of my position on the points total leaderboard and attempted to lure me to the 270km Pennine Bridleway and I had been considering it prior to the Yorkshire Three Peaks Ultra and it’s something that remains tempting, but that’s for later.
Anyway kit check done, I loaded up the new race vest, the Montane Gecko VP+ 12, my replacement for the Salomon ADV Skin 12 which rubbed the skin off my back at the Three Peaks and the Bridleway, and the damage had only just healed in time for this double race weekend. However, I hadn’t had the opportunity to test the race vest in the time since it arrived due to trying to get my hip flexors rested enough to allow me to run these races – it was all a bit bum squeaky tight in trying to make the cogs fit together for this weekend and then a balancing act to make sure I’d also get to the start line of the Cheviot Goat in 2 weeks time – more on that later.
This race also offered me the opportunity to reunite with one of the sweepers who I’d last seen having a giant dump on the West Highland Way Challenge Race. His little head had been bobbing up and down behind some ferns, but we had enjoyed a decent amount of running together at the WHWCR and it was lovely to see him again and given he was sweeping I’d expected to be spending most of the day with him! I also came across Kev again, a wonderful chap I met at the Pennine Bridleway and I finally figured out who he reminded me of, he was a bit of a Clark Kent, you know mild mannered and lovely but put him in some lycra and he’s superman! I ended up seated next to this superman on the bus and we chewed the fat covering all sorts of topics, it was a genuinely lovely way to get things underway.
However, we eventually arrived at the start after winding our way on a very pleasant coach journey to the start in Ashbourne and there was a small flurry of runners dashing to reach the customer toilets at the local Sainsbury’s presumably to offset the need to go ‘bear like’ and shit in the woods.
I spent the remaining minutes pre-race chatting with Kev and Pete and generally taking it all in. The organsiers corralled us all together to try and get a group photograph but being cunning I hid behind Kev because he’s tall and, despite the plethora of selfies that appear in my blog posts, I don’t like being photographed so hiding at the back seemed a perfectly sensible thing to do.
And then it was just a couple of minutes to go, fingers of runners moved to the poised position of ‘Garmin ready’ and suddenly there was the blaze of bleeps as we were sent on our way. The throngs of runners all setting out at their preferred pace and quickly spreading out onto the course.
Within a few minutes we came across a very welcome sight, a toilet!
Holy buggerchops I thought I could stop here for a dump, but with so many runners just behind me I didn’t want to stop for my emergency poo and so I sped up a bit in the hope that there might be another poo stop a bit further along and I could be in and out before the sweepers went past me.
What worried me though was the path that we were running on – it was some sort of disused railway line, and a wonderful path but also incredibly hard packed and even in the earliest of kilometres I wondered how long my body would tolerate this before it gave up on me. However, as it stood I was making good, steady progress, my new race vest was mostly comfortable and I was in overtaking mode. I battered my way through cool tunnels with creepily flickering lights and enjoyed the views that littered either side of the path.
From behind though, as I slowed up a touch I heard the sound of Clark Kent ripping open his shirt and Superman Kev ambled past me accusing me of ‘sandbagging’ which I assumed meant that I had been crying wolf about how shitty a runner I am. When I next saw Kev I believe I proved how rubbish I was, ha! But it was lovely to see him going great guns and he would undoubtedly be once more troubling the front runners, I wished him well and watched jealously as he charged forwards, outstanding runner and lovely chap (having seen his subsequent social media postings he did indeed trouble the front of the pack – huge congratulations).
Despite being left in the wake of Kev’s awesome running there was good news – a second toilet opportunity did indeed appear and I dipped inside to discover the single cubicle unoccupied and so I fired off a small noxious volley that while not the full payload should be enough to stop me having to go ‘full bear’ somewhere on the well used course.
I set off again and recognising a couple of guys from the registration point I made a joke of explaining my brief disappearing act into the bogs and then ran off.
Not much further along I saw two horses and riders on the path and witnessed them struggling with their horses who clearly found runners a bit of an issue. Thankfully the competitors from the race were all pretty respectful, they all slowed and gave the horses as much room as possible and many of us walked past so as not to antagonise the horses any further.
The thing was, as I approached them they’d been trying to walk side by side which meant most of the path was taken up and they’d found themselves stopping regularly at the side to let people through, which had clearly pissed them off and I’d seen a runner (not part of the race) speedily run past them and give the horses a bit of a fright.
I felt for them but also recognised that this was a public path and her reaction, at least to me, as she asked who was the organiser, was rather annoyed. Anyway as I cleared past the beautiful horses I began running again, hoping that I didn’t have any further problems today – but I rarely have that kind of good fortune and today it seemed was not going to be one of those good fortune days.
I remember looking down at my GPS at 8.19km in and thinking, ‘so this is how long it’s taken my hip flexor to start burning… an extra couple of kilometres more than usual’. The pain that had killed off my enjoyment of running recently was back but it was treating yours truly to a special dose of ‘don’t you dare visit the physiotherapist again’ medicine.
My entire hip was on fire and there was pain in the flexor and lower in the groin, a double whammy. Well 42km to go was the thinking and I wasn’t going to DNF such a short race – I did though have a plan and immediately began stretching as shown by my physio and then used whatever mental capacity I had to just power it through and hope that it would ease.
The good news was that I was just a short run from the first checkpoint and in the distance I could make out the green of my favourite jacket, the Montane Prism – only I have the blue version but I covet the green one. As I got closer I saw the blur of bright red lipstick and then I realised it was @peaksprincess.
I’ll be perfectly honest, with my hip in absolute pieces and pain searing down my body I’d have paid good money for it to be anyone else on the checkpoint. Don’t get me wrong I adore Kate but I didn’t wish to caught struggling so badly, so early on by someone I have a great deal of respect for.
Thankfully two litres of coffee, a shitload of pain and my ability to be rude and offensive at any given moment all converged to run my mouth for me and I left the checkpoint behind without doing all the stretching I needed to. Runners pride is a funny old thing.
The good thing though was that there were a relative abundance of checkpoints, located around at about 10km apart and this would mean that I could always DNF at the next one. And so I was into the second fifth of the race and here I found myself trying to enjoy the route as well as stretch my hip flexors as often as possible but I noticed that I was being hampered by a sharp pain in my left foot.
Bugger I thought, right hip knackered and left foot gone, all I need now is for my back to give up and I’d have the triple crown of injuries. Thankfully the new race vest was doing its job and my back was certainly no worse for wear than expected and I ambled along the route being overtaken by a succession of runners and also engaged in bits of chat here and there. Save for the pain I was in it was turning into a perfectly pleasant meander through The Peak District. The much trailed and expected rain was nowhere to be seen and as late autumn / early winter ultra marathons go this one had near perfect conditions.
What I remember most about the second 10 kilometre stretch though was that I barely remember anything about it at all. That’s the funny thing about pain it makes your focus rather inward and you stop experiencing the beauty around you because you’re devoting yourself time to the important task of holding yourself together. What I recall rather vividly though was pulling into the checkpoint and seeing the plethora of runners all gathered round the wonderful volunteers all filling water bottles and gorging themselves on sweet treats. For my part I saw heaven in a carton and reached for some orange juice and gulped this down as quickly as I could – this was to be something of a lifesaver across the race as I ate almost nothing during the event. I left the checkpoint quickly knowing that time (and the sweepers) were catching up to me and as much as I would have loved to have been the naughty schoolboy at the back of bus laughing and joking with the mop up crew of sweepers I was aware that I had to press on.
I ran out of the checkpoint and came across new and little interesting nuggets of sites, there was a little stone hut that reminded of those places in Finland with big roaring fires, coffee and reindeer skins strewn about the place and there were remnants of the old railway line that we were running along.
Having pulled my big boy pants on a bit I managed to try and start enjoying what I was seeing and this was aided by some lovely company throughout the event and it was in this section of the route that I came across a gentleman that would define my race and also make sure that I made it to the end.
Shaun if you’re reading this then I am going to start by saying, ‘thank you’.
Thank you because from the moment we met you had my back and because just as we met I was about to go significantly off course and he pointed me in the right direction something I was very grateful for.
What I can tell you is that on first glance my new companion was a bit of a ruff and tumble kind of a guy but it would have a mistake and misjudgement to assume that there wasn’t a lot more to him and as we covered many kilometres together I came to draw inspiration from this one man mission to live life to the fullest. I’ve met a lot of truly brilliant ultra distance runners, I’ve met a lot of brilliant ones during the time I’ve spent with Ranger Ultras too but Shaun was most certainly one of the best and just what I needed.
Neither of us were benefitting from the hard pack trail and I think both of us were suffering a little bit and I hope that we both benefitted from the general chitty chat that passes between runners because I found him to be warm and engaging. We came from very different places and yet as we spoke I could find many commonalities and as he expressed his approach to living every moment of his life I felt a genuine kinship. We met other lovely runners too though including Chris, Luke and a non eventer called Fiona (not one of the racers but was just nice company for a few minutes) and they helped to keep it light and fresh.
As the kilometres counted their way down the route started opening up a bit, for which I was thankful and although it was too late for my bruised and battered body I was grateful to see some slightly less hard packed trails. Hard packed, disused railway lines are wonderful for running faster and more consistently but they can be hard going on the legs and especially if you have a disposition to injury. The more genuine trails of the Peaks that we had now found were much more to my liking and I could really enjoy this time, albeit that I could barely run because of searing pain at the top of one leg and searing pain at the bottom of the opposite leg.
Good fortune seemed to be favouring us though when we were afforded the opportunity of a little bit of downhill trail and for the first time in what felt like a long time I was running a bit more, I mean it was more like hobbling but for the purposes of the blog post we’ll call it running. My usual surefootedness though had been replaced by an unease not to inflict further misery on the underside of my left foot and so I dared not run as fast as Shaun, Chris or Luke who were pressing on ahead but oddly there was an elasticity to us and we found ourselves all getting together again and this remained very much the case until we arrived at the third checkpoint were once more I saw @peaksprincess this time armed with the Mac who was clearly on guard duties. Woof.
I don’t remember much of our discourse, except telling her that I wished my dog would get cancer because he’s a bit of a bell end and she suggested that Mac should stop swinging his dick and was soon to have his nuts off, hearing Kate use the word dick was like reading one of her tweets – it was odd. I’ll be honest it wasn’t an obvious conversational topic but then I think that’s the way it always goes. I do offer good news for her though in that when she rocks up at The Montane Cheviot Goat in a few days time she probably won’t have to listen to me because I suspect I’m out of the running for that 😦
But I digress, Kate sent me on my way telling me to get it done, which is the kind of tough love I usually respond to, but today I was just feeling the fire of injury and the tough love just felt tough.
As I left I spoke to Luke and Chris and asked where Shaun was and the answer came that they thought he had simply powered through the checkpoint and I was actually a little bit sad about this as he had been such good company but then it is the way with ultra running that we tend to make connections and then lose them very quickly because two peoples pace are different or strategies for finishing aren’t aligned and so I hoped he was thundering up and down the course to a nice fast finish.
Anyway we starting climbing again and Chris and Luke both had more in their legs than I did and so looked like they would soon push on beyond me but as I looked up I saw a runner I recognised leaning against a gate, vaping. Now I can’t quite tell whether Shaun was waiting for us or whether he had simply stopped to admire the view but whatever it was, the effect was the same, it meant that there was a little gang of us travelling together and while we would eventually split into two pairs of competitors it was lovely to share this scenery and this event with such wonderful people.
Now for all the complaining I have done about injury and my mental state what I can say is that I knew that with significantly under 20km to go there was a good chance we might make it to the finish before dark and this was a positive thought that helped enable me to push harder than I had before. I was also aware that I was once more running on bits of the Pennine Bridleway that I recalled from my first Ranger Ultras race and that familiarity brought a level of solace. My Garmin also indicated that there wasn’t much more than another 100 metres of climbing across the last few miles of the course and so despite everything it looked like we would make it and all we could do was guess which of the little lumps ahead of us would provide the last metres of climb.
We ambled along and in these final few kilometres The Peak District really roared into life and there was lovely trail and little hilly mounds to admire. But all of our admiration had to be put aside to ensure that we did indeed crack that daylight finish and so we thundered along looking for Edale and in the near distance we could see the chocolate box village.
I urged Shaun to run those last few metres into the car park, because well, that’s what you do isn’t it? There was a round of applause from some of the other runners and there were faces that I recognised from earlier in the event. But I felt drained and as I tripped over the lip of the uPVC door into the race HQ I felt this summed up the kind of race I had run and I just dropped to the floor, pleased to have finished but sad not to be starting tomorrow.
I lost Shaun at the end but if you are reading this I must apologise for missing you at the finish, my head was ablaze with thoughts of going home (but I did as you suggested and looked up your brother by the way) and it was such a wonderful experience to meet you and be rescued by you. Thanks buddy.
And so ends the tale of the Peaks South 50km
- Distance: 50km
- Ascent: 850 metres
- Date: November 2021
- Location: Edale
- Cost: £55 per day (£85 for both days)
- Terrain: Hard packed trail
- Tough Rating: 2/5
Routes are such a personal thing and for this one there was a lot to like but also much to consider. The Peak District have done a wonderful job of providing a route that can be run or cycled with relative ease along what looks for the most part like a disused railway line and in terms of an ultra marathon it offers easier navigation and good conditions even for a potentially nasty weather early winter ultra marathon. It would serve as an ideal introduction to ultra marathon trail running and for the more experienced runner then it is an opportunity to stretch the legs a bit faster than usual because there is less mud to battle.
The route was relatively busy but not heaving and there was more than ample room for everyone, plus it was actually lovely to see members of the public out and giving the runners a little cheer. My favourite being the little Springer Spaniel about 3 or 4km in who was taking his owner for a jog and he seemed so happy.
It is worth saying that the first section is incredibly runnable, but that care should be taken in shoe choice, there is no doubt that even in crappy weather the hard packed trail would easily suit good comfortable road shoes and if the weather wasn’t horrific you could probably run the bulk of this in road or certainly road to trail footwear (but do remember the mandatory kit does say trail shoes). It is not a route that lends itself to aggressive lugs, even in the most trail of sections – so something to think about, basically you are not going to want your Walsh footwear on.
To my mind the second half of the route is the prettier section as it brings you closer to the action of The Peak District and this is where much more of the conventional trail running happens. The latter stages therefore are much more my thing and that is just a personal preference but what it means is that you get to experience two sides of trail running during one 50km event and perhaps that is why it is a very accessible event to those looking to transition into long distance trail running.
My enjoyment of the route was hampered by the pain I was in but when I put that aside I can see how I enjoyed this and with interesting sights along the way there really was a little bit of something for everyone.
There is no denying that Ranger Ultra offer perhaps the best organised race experience that I have ever been a part of. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, you are in safe, knowledgeable hands that know how to put on a really good running event. Everyone on the team knows their stuff and you really cannot put a price on that. The Ranger Ultras ethos of simple, effective but brilliant eventing is something that I really approve of and I wish other RDs would look closely at what Stu Westfield and the team are doing here because there is lots of good stuff going happening.
As always the pre-race material was comprehensive, the Facebook group was regularly updated and the team supported this with follow up emails to ensure that competitors didn’t get lost in the cracks of everyone using different platforms. On the day there were a lots of checkpoints and each was the right size for the location, the 10km and 40km CPs were smaller than the 20km and 30km CPs and this felt the right decision – give the support and resource where the runners will most need it.
I think the testament to brilliant organisation is that it never feels forced, everything just happens and flows. The team works so hard but always has time for a bit of banter, a laugh, a joke or even some running advice – as was evidenced by the fact I couldn’t be sure which of the many Harvey Maps I was carrying I would need for the Saturday event but the team knew instantly.
When I walked into the registration the team were busy putting stuff together, getting ready for departure to the start line and generally being awesome but the RD made a point of reminding me of my lofty position on the points leader board and my advantage in securing one of the beautiful hand crafted boxes (which are indeed beautiful by the way). He didn’t need to do this, but he did and that is why, long after my injuries are a distant memory and long after I’ve forgotten about my grandslam failure I will remember Ranger Ultras with great fondness.
Value for money
I have come to the conclusion that the organisers must be romantics, because they aren’t doing this for the money, they are doing it for the love of it – at least that is very much how it comes across. They could increase the prices and I don’t think it would have a negative effect on numbers but I suspect they’d quite like to swell numbers a little further and therefore keeping the prices VERY reasonable might encourage others to join in.
The Peaks South or Day 1 was another excellent value for money event and if you sign up I guarantee you’ll come away saying, ‘how the hell do they manage all that for such a low price?’
Volunteers and Support
There is never a moment you aren’t grateful to the team or volunteers and supporters, they make the events happen and they make it so that you will finish. I’m going to reserve special praise for Kate and her vibrant lipstick who despite me being so mean to her didn’t swing a fist in my direction.
All I can say is thank you to each and every one of you for a. not pulling me out of the race when I looked like death warmed up and b. for being there on a cold and windy day in The Peak District.
I met some amazing people on Saturday and reacquainted myself with others.
Ranger Ultras tends to attract a certain type of runner, these aren’t glamorous events in the sense that there aren’t any flashing lights and blasting music, these are running events for people who enjoy running. Therefore; it makes sense that the people who want to come and test themselves share a similar philosophy as the organisers and that means you have some common ground with most if not all of your fellow competitors. There are too many names to list to say thank you to individually – I mean basically just get me the start list and that should just about cover it but the runners at these events, have been awesome.
Now as the title says 2 races, 1 start, 0 medals. I assume that given I failed to start day 2 I don’t get a medal for just finishing day 1 and so I can’t comment on them as I didn’t even see them. However, I am going to assume that they are the same as the other beautifully designed wooden coasters that have been seen at the other races and so if you earned one this weekend then well done guys – I’m very jealous.
Well you’ve read about my race, it didn’t go well and who the bollocks knows how I managed to finish in a reasonable time, well that is mostly down to my companion for the second half of the race. I wouldn’t have finished if it hadn’t been for Shaun and equally importantly a strategically positioned @peaksprincess because as I say I wasn’t going to DNF in front of her – so thanks guys.
I made the rather unwise decision to drive home mere minutes after finishing because I really didn’t want to hang around as I feared I had broken my foot – I knew that I dare not take my shoe off because I wouldn’t be able to get it back on and then driving would be impossible. I was also pretty miserable about the way my hip flexor had gone and not earning the coaster, I was deflated and felt that my own company was probably the only company to have.
By the time I got back to Scotland I could no longer put any weight on my left leg and the right leg was ruined at the hip so it was a difficult time and some tears may have been shed as I stopped for a lentil dahl powered turd at Southwaite services. But listening to happy hardcore for a couple of hours and having the heater blasting at me did at least improve my mood on a very long drive.
Thankfully an x-ray on Monday suggested I haven’t fractured the foot but The Cheviot Goat Ultra looks like it might be beyond me again but I’ll make a final decision in a few days and I’ll mull over my conversation with Shaun about living the moments of life to their fullest.
Points, Grandslam & 270
I’ve stated it many, many times and even reiterated it here ‘I’m a terrible runner and an even worse ultra runner’ and yet because of turning up there I found myself at the top of the points leaderboard prior to this weekends events. I said to Stu that the points system he is employing for measuring the success of the runners at this years events is flawed because I should not be at the top, just because I have turned up is no reason to be lauded or rewarded.
This conversation came up in light of him mentioning that I should be considering the 270km full Pennine Bridleway! Ha.
It is a ridiculous notion, I mean you should have seen me at the end of the 50km, I was absolutely broken, destroyed, annihilated – I finished the race contemplating retiring from ultra running not signing up for two hundred and seventy long, arduous kilometres.
Stu is a cheeky little bugger and I assume the lady I spoke with at the end about the 270km was maybe his wife and I found myself on Monday evening, after discovering that my foot wasn’t broken, looking at the 270km race.
It is a stupid and idiotic idea that I could run it but I’m thinking about it, but just thinking about it and I’m going to need to think about it REALLY hard (like thinking about Michelle Pfieffer when I was 15 and watching Batman Returns) and if there’s too much tarmac or hard packed trail then I know that the things about me that are fragile won’t handle the pounding that they would take, but, I’m thinking about it.
As for the grandslam and my failure this year at the Ranger Ultras events, well I’m pretty annoyed at myself and I’ll be discussing this and the whole grandslam thing at greater length in a season 2 episode of the Ultraboyruns podcast. However, despite my failure, despite the epic driving and logistical nightmare that meant that each pre and post-race was really an arse ache I massively enjoyed my time with Ranger Ultras. I had a brilliant time because each event was made with love and my personal highlight being the Yorkshire Three Peaks.
I stated earlier that I write this stuff to feed my ego but that is only partly true.
I want other runners to read this review and I want them to sign up for one or more of the Ranger Ultras races. There are lots of shit things in the world, lots of things that don’t offer you good value for money, but Ranger Ultras isn’t one of them.
Ranger Ultras is one of those joy filled things that gives much more than it gets.
So if you’ve got a blog, a social media channel, some running friends or even an aged aunty who still owns an old pair of Inov8 that have been gathering dust then tell them about Ranger Ultras, tell them about how they brutalised you, covered you in mud and generally kicked your arse before cuddling you better.
Specifically about the Peaks South event you can say that this is something they should try whether they are seasoned old hands or beginners because this is an everyone route. As I mentioned earlier the mixed nature of the terrain means that you can get a taste for trail running but also have the security of a really good hard packed trail for the bulk of the event. Easy!
My misery was nothing to do with the event itself that was down to my own stupidity so just don’t do it like I do it and you’ll be fine and of course Christmas is now just round the corner and I think if you ask, you too, be you naughty or nice, could get a Rangers Ultra event gift from Santa that will just keep on giving.
It’s worth noting that I have no affiliation with Rangers Ultra am not sponsored nor have I been paid to write this review – this is 100% independent (and probably unwanted). I should also point I neglected to check how Shaun spells his name but I found a record of a race I know he ran so have gone with this spelling