Archive

ultra maarthon

Ultraboyruns: Throw a sausage roll at me or something… just chuck it in the pie hole!

What were you doing at 8pm the night before the Falkirk Ultra? Perhaps you were having a relaxing bath? Perhaps you were sorting your kit out? Or maybe you were just listening to Barry White to get you in the mood for some hot Falkirk action. What I’m sure you were not doing was sat in one of the many ‘dance of the lube’ positions while you pushed the massage gun dial to ‘11’ and proceeded to not commit a sexual act on your own bum hole while desperately seeking to resolve the hamstring, hip flexor and abductor injuries that had come hurtling back at that days race, the Chatelherault 6 (read the review here).

I’ve got a feeling I might have been alone in that endeavour.

But here I was, just 12 hours from race start desperately trying to reclaim control my old withered body. When I awoke the next morning at about 5am I sat up gingerly in bed and felt for pain – it wasn’t hard to find but it felt like a dull throb rather than being struck with lightning every five seconds as it had the night before. A very hot shower, lots of stretching and a breakfast of Weetabix and coffee followed as I stared out into the rain splattered darkness I wondered what the hell I was doing.

Anyway with my contemplations (or as other people call it, a pre race poo) done I loaded the car, said adios to the family and then headed down to sunny, sorry, rain soaked Falkirk. Thankfully by the time I arrived the rain was mostly abating but it was cold and I found myself putting on waterproof jacket, trousers and over mitts to keep warm – highly effective I might add.

I ambled down to the darkness encased registration point and despite having already collected my race number from The Foot Store a few days earlier I now needed to pick up my timing chip, I found myself waiting quietly, with my face covered due to Covid-19 being far from eliminated, but my eyesight was drawn to the runner at the registration desk who with bright lights shining behind her looked like she was rather bare bottomed! It took a second or two to register that her rather peachy pink leggings we simply creating an optical illusion but the fatherly side of me wanted to offer her something to cover this pseudo nudity – then I realised I was probably just being old fashioned and instead averted my gaze.

A moment or two later I was called forward to collect my timing chip and it was all very simple and easily done – the guys at the Falkirk Ultra know their stuff. I ambled round for a bit, dropped my kit bag off in the newly and excellently positioned checkpoint and then stripped off, ready to race.

It was about this time that I was then confronted by one the most awesome sights I would have this day and it was ‘Badge’, a gentleman I hadn’t seen since the last Falkirk Ultra (read the 2020 review here) where we had shared many little moments across the 8 hours. I had wondered if he would be at the race, perhaps even running but no he was back on support duties and it was wonderful to have him there – I would be catching up with him later!

The Falkirk Ultra is an oddity in that it’s my home race, but it’s only been my home race since 2019, yet there would be lots of runners I would know here, well, if the entrants list was anything to go by. Neil, Pauline, Graeme, a few of the Linlithgow Running Buddies and a Fiona or two were just some of the names I recognised and then there was the smorgasbord of others from Instagram and Strava that I might recognise.

Oddly, in the build up to blast off, I had seen none of them but I assumed they were going to make a late dash to the start to try and keep as cosy as possible, for as long as possible.

As the minutes to the start of the race eeked away I made my way to the start line and met a couple of lovely chaps, one of whom was asking about my Topo Athletic MTN Racer 2 and the other was a fella I had met the previous day at the Chatelherault 6. He’d managed to run about 33 miles at the race the previous day, a lot more than I had managed, and he looked incredible whenever I saw him during today’s undertaking. Talking to him reminded me there are ultra marathoners and there are ultra marathoners – he was definitely in the better category than the one I belong to.

It was while the chatter was happening that the race brief took place and the start happened, I was in my own little bubble and completely missed it and with all the urgency I could muster set off after the crowd of runners ahead of me. It’s times like this that I think I really need to pay more attention to the race itself instead of trying to enjoy myself.

There was no chance of going off like a rocket as I needed to keep an eye on the injuries that I had sustained during the previous day‘s racing. However all that massage gun therapy had left me feeling reasonable and having had a lazy start to the race I thought I’d better catch up a bit.

Just a few hundred metres into the race I saw Fiona and she shouted over to me, but just as we were about to start a brief catch up, she dropped something and I found myself in the company of Alan, a runner that I’d never met before but coincidentally had just been asking Fiona about this guy on Strava called, ‘UltraBoy’. Lucky for him Fiona not only knew him but she also knew his real name and so I started my first of many enjoyable chats of the race!

Alan though was moving at a pace that I needed to slow down from, for the sake of my injuries and as we descended, what would become, the long slow mud slide, I bade him farewell.

It was also here that I passed the ladies, Lynne and Frances that I knew from the Linlithgow Running Buddies but I had no doubt that they would be once more overtaking me any second.

I had decided that if I could have lap one as a bit of a flying lap then I would be in a better position to slow down later in the race if the injuries reared their head. Therefore as I came to the first of the many climbs in the Falkirk Ultra I knew that the only sensible thing was to take it easy and even as I saw runners battering past me I tried not to get drawn into running beyond my body’s current ability.

Once we reached the first stretch of relative flat though we all realised that today was going to be heavy going. The course was churned up pretty badly and this usually pretty quick stretch was muddy and claggy and easy to get bogged down in. Most runners were moving to the sides to get through but such is my desire to embrace the filth I simply went straight through the middle and leaped across the mud attempting to clear the worst of the wet in a single bound. Obviously this was the action of a runner on their first lap, it would not be the action of this runner on his second or third lap, I’d simply stumble through the mud desperate to keep my feet.

However, for now I chuntered through the trail, doing my best impression of a runner and trying to stay in the 33 mile game. If the course was the same as the first time I ran this in 2020 then it should be fine, there would be a significant stretch of flat ahead and I would be able to keep it together for 8 of those kind of loops. Up on to the hard packed trail I could see some more volunteers in the distance but instead of letting us go past they were directing us to the right, or as I like to think of it, upwards.

Bugger.

Here I saw Badger once more, armed with a massive grin as he saw my face at what awaited us. The notion crossed my mind that he had asked for this marshalling point because he has that wickedly cheeky grin about him that would both soothe and infuriate runners as he sent them on their way. Part of me wondered if he had asked for it so he could have a laugh at my expense, I mean that’s what I would have done had the roles been reversed.

Anyway after our first bit of banter he told me to get going and so it was that I joined the throngs of other runners, attempting to make the best of the new, seemingly more challenging route. Here I saw some of the runners running up the hill but I knew that if I wanted to make it much past the first lap I was going to have to move uphill at a more sedate pace and so I slowed to a fast walk. The great thing about a fast walk up a hill is that it can often be more effective than running and I found myself stomping past people who had taken the first 100 metres of the hill at a fair old lick and then slowed to a crawl, and although they would catch me when we finally reached the inevitable downhill I knew that my running strategy for the day would work if my leg held together.

At the top of the hill the route flattened out for a little bit and this whole section was good running and when the downhill arrived it wasn’t so severe that you felt out of control, in fact, I found myself thoroughly enjoying the race, albeit that this was the first lap.

Round and down we continued and past more lovely volunteers, all looking pretty freezing, but all super enthusiastic and there was the water stop for the route – very considerately, not located at the start. It takes a great race director to think that you might not need water at the start line but that it might be better placed on the route somewhere, especially when that same RD has provided a massive tent for you and the other competitors to keep your own supplies in at the start. This was good thinking Falkirk Ultra.

Thankfully it was too early in the event to be needing water and I was carrying my own supplies anyway and so I carried on to the next volunteers just a couple of hundred metres along, presumably stationed to stop you running down the path and making a significant wrong turn. The two ladies here seemed quite comfy with a couple of seats and possibly even a hot drink, so I did suggest they could get me a nice hot cuppa for my next loop – I thought I heard them say they’d do their best but the tea never materialised, ha!

We now looped back on ourselves and I was finding that this iteration of the route was much more fun and possibly even a bit faster than the previous edition I had run. As I was bimbling along I could now hear the buzz of the race village next to Callendar House and it really gave me a little lift even though I had no real idea how much more winding and wending around the park I was going to have to do before I would return to the start. The reality was that I was probably only 2km from the start again but before I got there I needed a little stop on the last downhill of the loop.

This stop was to be my regular, built in stop that would give me a minute or two to stretch both my hip flexor and my hamstring and try and bring them under some form of control. All the way round the loop I had been able to feel my hamstring and given that I had been pushing a little bit this was unsurprising but the exercises I had been given, and my own variations on them, to maximise their effectiveness, proved both timely and race saving. When I returned to the race, a couple of minutes later, my leg felt a more secure and certainly more warmed up then about half an hour ago.

I arrived at the turning of the first climb to be greeted by a tremendous volunteer who must have had a sheet with the names and numbers of the runners on as he greeted so many of us by name and had a little joke or word of encouragement for everyone and not generic encouragement either, he was a brilliant volunteer amongst the sea of brilliant volunteers, this coupled with his buddy at the entrance to the run round the lake (the chap with the music) was such a wonderful sight to see on each of the loops but on the first loop it was such a nice surprise and one that delighted and inspired in equal measure each time I saw them (twice per lap).

From here it was a relatively relaxed bimble back to the start but I continued to press harder on this first lap so that I really could slow down and with a little under 40 minutes on the clock I was feeling pretty good that I could slow down by about 10 minutes per lap and therefore manage my body to the finish.

Before I reached lap 2 though I was greeted by two wonderful volunteers who I shared a little dance with and this became a recurring theme throughout the event as I looked to up the ante each time I would amble past them. This was one of the highlights of each loop and as these volunteers stayed in position for the whole event I needed to plumb the depths of my dancing knowledge to do something a little different on each rotation.

I battered on past them though and headed straight past the checkpoint area, stopping only to moan at poor Pauline who, along with Fiona, have had to listen to my griping since we first crossed paths all those years ago at the Skye Trail Ultra. I’m sure I should buy these lovely runners a pair of ear defenders each with the words, ‘sod off’ emblazoned on them so that when they see me coming they can just put them on!

Eventually I was told to get a move on and so I beat a hasty retreat to the course and did as I was told.

From here it was then a mental battle of could I keep going and beat my next target of halfway before the 4 hour mark. If I couldn’t get to the halfway distance by the end of half the time then I would call it a day and try and save my aching for the following weekends pair of races in Kent.

Over the course of the next couple of hours I ran, trudged and grumbled my way round the challengingly fun course and met oodles of amazing runners and volunteers that just kept me going that little bit longer.

I would be extremely fortunate to meet runners old and new that would provide good conversation to keep me going, I got a sizeable update from the amazing Fiona and I chatted to a wonderful athlete called Elspbeth who had come from Orkney to race at Falkirk, just two of those little chats that make this such a great race to compete in. The one runner I didn’t see though was Graeme and this was disappointing because he is a big character and the kind of guy you’d want on the course to give you a big dose of reality and to put a big smile on your face. However, despite him not being there the race had lots of tremendous personalities and you were never short of someone to share a few moments with.

I suppose my trouble wasn’t a lack of interesting running buddies, my trouble was that as the race grew further into the day I could feel the difficulties brewing in the injury department.

Sadly no amount of stretching, chocolate milkshake stops, chitty chat or dancing volunteers could take away from the fact that I was ruined and I’d decided, long before the fourth hour ended my race by not being further than halfway, I would retire by my own hand.

Fate however, has a way of really pissing me off and I ran into some faces that I knew from the Linlithgow Running Buddies and there’s something in my DNA that can’t give up when there’s a face I recognise. Had I not seen Lynne and Frances then maybe I’d just have finished my lap and said thanks very much for the memories, but, I did run into them, and then kept running into them. Let me assure readers that I really wanted them to sod off so I could stop – but they didn’t and so instead of stopping I kept going.

I found something of a second wind, or as I like to think of it, the telling of some ‘poo stories’ and suddenly the idea of stopping seemed ludicrous.

More running was done and even after the guys from the Running Buddies had finally left me behind the race seemed to know what I needed and there in all her running awesomeness was Linda… Linda of Doune!

‘Doune!’ I cried, ‘Harvey Maps!’

And suddenly I found myself deep in conversation with a delightful runner and learnt all about the little town that I’d been through a thousand times to get to races, but never stopped at, despite being desperate to visit Harvey Maps. (Linda should you be reading this I did, the day after the race, finally get to go to Doune, where I ordered a bespoke map from Harvey Maps, visited the shop, went and bought a ton of plants from the wonderful little plant shop opposite, had amazing curry, chips and curry pie from the little take-out place and best of all got muddily, soaking wet in and around the lovely Doune Ponds).

Sadly, Linda told me she was cutting her race short at five laps – having not raced for quite some time – but even as we parted she looked really strong and I look forward to coming across her again at some point.

It was these interactions that were keeping me going but then two massive things ensured that I wouldn’t give in at one of my favourite events. The first was the arrival of a very familiar voice coming at pace from behind me. I could feel the hot breathe and even hotter feet of Neil chasing me down, looking to lap me. Well bugger that for a game of tennis, he wasn’t getting past me without a fight and suddenly my aching muscles found their way out of third gear for a moment and made the good doctor work for his overtake.

As we ambled along together for a while I realised I hadn’t seen him in about 2 years and yet he is one of those people you just immediately are pleased to see, even if he is overtaking you (three times). Now that overtake was inevitable but came much later than I thought it might, I feel this was mostly due to Neil running with another chap who was racing an absolute blinder but perhaps not quite at Neil’s usual race pace. This slither of good fortune meant I didn’t watch them running off into the distance until I had finished lap 5 and was back down at the bottom of ‘the mudslide’ and cosying up to another musically inclined and incredibly supportive volunteer!

I mentioned two things happened though, the first was seeing Neil but the second and perhaps most important thing happened, the family turned up. One of the runners said to me that having them there must be a real lift and truth to tell I doubt he understood just how right he was. Seeing ASK and the GingaNinja is always a boost, especially when I’m finding it gruelling and rest assured dear reader I was finding this incredibly gruelling. With my family hanging around for the remaining laps I knew I had the incentive to keep going to the end and with time now firmly on my side I could only see a positive conclusion to the race.

Obviously there were the remaining laps to conclude and with runners now entering final laps and the large groups of runners thinning as the laps counted down it became harder to maintain the momentum from the various boosts I had received. However the on course support from the volunteers was immense as I pounded inch by inch closer to that 33 mile finish line.

As I approached the conclusion of my 7th lap I still had more than 90 minutes remaining before the race cut off of 8 hours was reached and there was a moment where I realised that even if I walked the route slowly I would reach the finish before the end of the event and even with the cheering at the race village I slowed to a bit of a meander for that final loop – I did not have it in me to run.

On the mudslide I could see ASK at the bottom alongside the GingaNinja and the wonderful volunteer who had sung and danced through the last 7 hours of the race and I gave it a little bit of welly to make sure I didn’t disgrace myself in front of the child. I then gingerly moved along the tarmac and back into the woods were I slowed to a crawling pace, ensuring I got all the stops I needed by having a little chuckle with the lovely marshals and waving at the passing runners I knew who were soon to be finishing.

And so there I found myself, on the final lap, sort of alone, happy in my thoughts, going as fast as possible but without putting too much pressure on myself.

Lovely.

But in the near distance another runner was slowly gaining on me, she too seemed to be having a lovely day and when she finally caught me at the top of the first of the two biggest hills in the woods we got chatting and my gentle amble to the finish line turned into an experience that I really, really enjoyed.

I’d bumped into the wife of one of the race organisers and I was able to pass on my most genuine thanks through her for everything and everyone that makes the Falkirk Ultra the absolute blast that it is. Much like me though I think she was rather tired of the course amendment of the additional hill but it was something we could complain about together and Lynn made a fantastic running companion for these final few kilometres.

Maybe I shouldn’t be so grateful to her because she ruined my opportunity for a slow jaunt to the finish, instead she inspired me to do things like running even when my legs really didn’t want to and as we came around the lake for the final time she kept me going at a fair old lick.

As we passed the side of Callendar House I saw that ASK was waiting, cheering in that mildly patronising way she does, but this was the time for a dad and daughter to finish the race together – I waved Lynn onwards to the finish, thanking her as she went and then ASK and I started running together.

There is something about holding the hand of your 7 year old daughter that fills you with both joy and energy at the end of a race and with a final blast I could feel the burning of my heart, pumping blood back into my veins. My feet lifted off the ground and ASK and I blasted to the finish, dipping ahead of Lynn on the line and roaring to the end of 33 bloody, muddy, amazing miles.

What an awesome race this was.

Overview

  • Distance: 4.15 mile loop (ish)
  • Ascent: Couple of small climbs
  • Date: February 2022
  • Location: Falkirk
  • Cost: £33
  • Terrain: Muddy, undulating, fun
  • Tough Rating: 2.5/5

Route
Since any of us last ran the route in 2020 there have been a few changes, there is a little bit more climb and little bit more descent. The key change is the amount of fun you are going to have on the route, in 2020 the route was pretty much perfect but in 2022 the organisers have actually managed to improve on it. Yes the ascent is a little bit tougher but the descent is such fun, it is the kind of the thing that makes you go ‘weeeeeeeeeeee’ as you’re running. However, it is not just the addition of the new climb it is also the way that we took back to the beginning which is much less like a mud bath and infinitely more runnable and these aspects make the course a little faster overall in my opinion.

Could you get bored doing 8 hours on this loop? Not a chance, it has a little something for everyone, for me that thing was the wet and the mud and the route has enough of this to keep you interested and ensure that you go home with filthy running shoes and wet feet.

The route, as was the case in my previous running, incredibly well signed and also heavily marshalled in a truly supportive way, I always felt like there was someone with a kind word to get me through to the next bit. I love this route, because you get something of everything and you’ll never be quite sure what you will get on the day, if the Falkirk Ultra had a very rainy year then this route would be an absolute trudge fest but a wet, fun trudge fest, if it was snowy or icy then that would present a different type of test again, if it is reasonably dry as it was this year then you get good, pacey running and people lapping you (well if you’re at the back like me).

Everyone should give the Falkirk Ultra a go, it really is an absolute cracker.

Organisation
There were a few changes compared to last time such as the opportunity to grab your number and goody bag in the week leading up to the race and I felt that this was a really good move – not just because of Covid but because it improved the pace of everything on race day. Runners were able to arrive ready to run and the queue for the collection of timing chips was a swift moving affair.

That whole organisation of the event is tremendous and while I am sure it is incredibly stressful and challenging putting this together, especially under the glare of the pandemic, the guys make it look easy. There should be nothing but respect for both the organisers and the marshalling team that help bring this together.

Value for money
I’ve said it before and I will say it again, this race is too cheap and while I understand the ethos behind trying to bring a great value event to runners I am sure they could charge a few extra pounds and make sure that it keeps coming back year and year and I have no doubt that the runners will still come even if we had to pay a few extra pennies.

Let’s look at what you got… this year we had the t-shirt, the bespoke medal, the awesome Falkirk Ultra bobble hat, beer, Irn Bru Extra, Tunnocks wafer and of course all the gubbins associated with the event itself. I cannot express how amazingly good value this event is. I mean part of me doesn’t want to mention it for fear that you’ll beat me to a place in the 2023 edition but there we have it, at a time when everything else seems to be offering you less for more money, the Falkirk Ultra offers you more for less money. Thanks guys.

Volunteers
I’ve been fortunate to run at events with some truly inspiring volunteers – the St Peter’s Way, Vigo Tough Love 10, Skye Trail Ultra, The Yorkshire Three Peaks Ultra, Jedburgh Three Peaks and many, many more but there is something about the atmosphere that the marshals and organisers bring to the Falkirk Ultra that is extra special. You never get all the volunteers names and I’m writing this several weeks after the event and therefore I really have forgotten all the names I collected but what I haven’t forgotten are those special individuals that made this event possible. The pair of chaps at the entrance to the woods and the entrance to the run alongside the water those two were absolutely amazing and really kept me going when I felt like giving up. The pair of young ladies at the waterside who shouted, ‘dancer’ at me on nearly every single lap and had to put up with the least effective twerking that any human being has ever witnessed. The lone chap with the wonderful beard who stood there smiling for 8 long hours, the lady at the bottom of the mud slide who jigged her way through 8 hours of supporting runners, the guys who laughed and joked with the runners from their secluded position under the trees (I think these poor guys had to listen to my terrible jokes), the ladies who stopped us heading off to the road and all the water point marshalling volunteers – all brilliant. And of course there were the volunteers who sent us up the new hill (not a euphemism), including the awesome Badger (disappointingly bordering on cleanly shaven), all of whom gave us the positive vibes needed to keep going with clapping, cheering and cow belling you could ask for – thanks guys! What I can say is that I will have forgotten people, such as all the team in the main ‘race village’ area and to anyone else out on the course that I have missed, you too were awesome.

Awards
A simple and very effective medal and I certainly earned that medal this year.

I’ll probably treasure this medal even more than the 2020 one because of the way I managed to hold it together despite the injuries and the pain. As mentioned in the value for money section there was also another awesome branded bobble hat and a simple, branded black technical t shirt. You get a lot of useful stuff for your money at this event – other race directors take note!

My race
Can I complain about how I got on? No of course I can’t because I finished and about 12 hours before the finish there was still a massive question mark over whether I would even get past the starting line. It took every ounce of control I have to run gently, to remember to stop and stretch, to not get over excited and caught up in running with other people (although this did happen a bit when I came across runners I knew). I understood that my body wasn’t in any shape to do this event and yet I managed to manage things well enough to get round. The Falkirk Ultra remains in my top 10 races and rightly so, because it is a tremendous event, and I was very keen to make sure I started and I was equally keen to make sure I finished and I did just that.

Conclusion
‘Life is a lemon and I want my money back’ sang Meat Loaf, but had he met me at the end of the Falkirk Ultra he would have realised that life is anything but a lemon and I’d pay again and again to live these kinds of 8 hours again, hence why if the race returns for 2023, 2024, 2025… (you get the idea), I will be back.

In 2020 I went to the Falkirk Ultra with no expectations because I had never done it before but in 2022 I went with expectations that were sky high because of my amazing previous experience. I am pleased to conclude that the 2022 edition of the Falkirk Ultra exceeded all my expectations.

To find out more about the Falkirk Ultra visit their Facebook page.


My review of 2021 was originally intended as a festive podcast (which you can listen to at the player above or by searching ‘ultraboyruns’ on your favourite podcast platform), though time and tide conspired against me to ensure that the episode dropped well late of the festive season but I’m not going to chastise myself too much for that.

But given that the podcast circulation is still quite small I thought I would take the original script and put it into written form too and also because I’m writing this beyond the festive season and with the first race of 2022 under my belt I can be a little less of a festive grump about the whole thing.

Would it surprise you that I’m a miserable shit at Christmas?

It probably comes as no surprise to anyone that really knows me that I am something of a grump at the festive period and originally thought I would share my festive grumpiness in my end of year running review. The benefit is that I get to improve my mood by worsening all of your moods, it’s a cunning plan.

Where to begin?

I think the first thing is that 2021 has felt like something of a lifetime in itself, I am sure we all remember that we started the year in lockdown with limited movement and interaction. The idea of running a race wasn’t on many peoples agendas and it all seemed so far away. But the advent and arrival of the vaccine roll out across the UK brought with it the easing of restrictions and the opportunity to get out and about a bit more.

Once the Scottish Government started to allow us to travel outside of our region we had no hesitation in picking a nice hillwalking route to test out and found ourselves on Cort Ma Law in the Campsies, withing days of the restrictions easing and soon after races started to pop up again.

The first race

My first one of the year was the delayed, inaugural Ultra Scotland 50 (click for race review) which I think was pretty much the first Covid secure Scotttish race to take place after the lockdown and it was a hazy mix of trepidation and relief.

I hadn’t raced since the Ultra North the previous September but that had been in England and this would be my first Scottish race since the Skull Trail Race in March 2020. We’d gone down in the Rona to sleep under stars of Clatteringshaws a few miles from the start in St Johns of Dalry. There was a man playing the bagpipes beautifully that evening, the night sky was clear and the stars twinkled brightly for us and it was a wonderfully serene and delightful pre-race.

The next morning I remember lining up amongst the dozens of grateful runners, all wearing masks and all wondering what a Covid secure event meant, myself included.

But I developed a very swift respect for Wayne Drinkwater and the GB Ultras team who really went out of their way to make sure that they stayed within the rules and that the runners could compete. Now having barely been near a hill in about 6 months I really, really felt the race and injuries really fucked me over quite early on which in turn inhibited my ability to move with any pace downhill and there is no doubt that the whole of the lowlands of Scotland will have heard my wild cursing of my old disintegrating body.

I was however joined in this expedition by a lovely chap called Kieran who was having more issues than I was and while I was running all of the Covid and the associated problems seemed to just disappear. It was such a tough day out on those lowland hills but I found myself holding on and being surprisingly strong at the end. I mean don’t get me wrong I was 100% fucked at the end and I hurt like nobody’s business but more importantly I was back in business – all I needed now was more races to do.

Appetite for more?

The Ultra Scotland 50 had given back my appetite for racing so it was with dismay that there were still races being cancelled left, right and centre, races being moved to make the end of the year jam packed, which could be great fun, but an incredible challenge in terms of the actual running and logistics.

By the time May had arrived I’d seen the postponement (in some cases for a second time) of the Cheviot Goat, the Bonnie Prince Ultra, the Loch Ness 360, the Pennine Bridleway Challenge and Run the Blades, only a complete bastard could fail to have the most tremendous sympathy for the race organisers who time and again seemed to have the rug pulled from under them or where hit by forces outside of their control. This very much wasn’t about me, this was about everyone with runners and organisers alike feeling some form of pinch caused by the pandemic.

Now don’t get me wrong racing isn’t that important in the grand scheme of things but the organisers of these races aren’t making millions of pounds from putting on events and if they can’t be supported by runners or were discovering that the financial issues being caused were too onerous to bother continuing then we might be looking at a post Covid race calendar that seems a little bare.

All we could hope was that restrictions continued to ease and that races could start.

I decided that I couldn’t wait for ultra running to return properly and decided to take advantage of any and all racing opportunities that cropped up and for the first time since social media was invented I found a use for it – uncovering races.

The Sunburn 5

An early example of this was discovering the amazing team at Trails of Fife, now I have a great deal of affection for Fife, it is a place I enjoy and any opportunity to race will be very seriously considered. Therefore, when the delayed Frostbite 5 (click for race review) was announced as running at the delightful Lochore Meadows Country Park I decided that we once more load up Rona and enjoy a weekend away in anything but frostbite conditions.

At the time I commented that it was more like the Sunburn 5 mile race than the Frostbite 5, but this event offered me an opportunity to test the injury I had sustained at the Ultra Scotland and also to test just how fast I could push myself after years of lethargy and not doing very much running at all.

We had a lovely time at Lochore Meadows in Rona, we went paddle boarding, kayaking and open water swimming, it was a wonderful Saturday – I sort of wondered why I was bothering racing and then as I arrived at the outdoor registration desk I remembered.

There was such a lovely atmosphere at the start, people glad to be back together – some of whom had clearly not seen each other for the duration of the lock down and then there was me watching it all and just soaking it up in one of my favourite places.

With time counting down though I wandered to the start line, which was a few minutes from the registration, and chatted to a few of the runners, I had forgotten what it was like to speak to another runner and just chew fat.  

When the race came I found myself hurtling away like someone had put a light under my nutsack and I stayed that way for the next 5 miles, I didn’t slow to look behind me to see if fellow local runner Fiona was there, I didn’t stop to take photographs, I didn’t hesitate to push my old dilapidated body to the limit. I thundered around Lochore Meadows and when I picked up a shadow about a mile from the end I used his influence to force me to go harder, faster and stronger.

I don’t recall the last time that I pushed to the point of my lungs busting but this was it but I did remember to get the action camera out at regular intervals because this was brilliant and I didn’t want to forget it. Everything about this was just awesome, I loved being in the sunshine of one of my favourite places while being cheered on by supporters and I loved the whole experience – the only odd thing was that Covid restrictions meant we had to be given my medal before we started so it weighed heavy in my race vest but by god when I hurled myself across the line I pulled it out and proudly wore it all the way back to Rona.

Unravelling begins

For all the joy I had here though my year of racing would soon start to unravel and a fall off my paddle board at Loch Lomond a couple of weeks after the Frostbite 5 killed any hopes of my starting The Great Glen Ultra. I was deeply saddened that I was too sore to start the GGU and as the runners were setting off I was lying in Rona less than a mile away from the start trying to get to sleep, annoyed at wasting another opportunity.

I was even more annoyed when we were parked up the next night in Inverness less than 300 metres from the finish and I watched jealously as competitors completed the course. I couldn’t bring myself to go and support the runners as I was simply too miserable and on reflection I realise that this was just me being selfish but I’m good at being selfish sometimes and this was one of those times.

6 races, 9 days

The good news was that the paddleboard injuries did clear up and racing continued throughout the summer with an awesome beach race in St Andrews where I enjoyed the delights of facing a giant fabric lobster in the coastal waves. The Splash n’ Dash (click for race review) also introduced me to the wonderful Yvonne who would get in touch post race and be a wonderful addition to the circle of awesome runners I know.

I followed the Splash n’ Dash on the next day with a jaunt down to Solway Coast to take part in the marathon there (click for race review).

From getting home from one race to leaving for the next race was actually only about 5hrs and so I remember arriving at the event, after a near 4 hour drive, feeling both exhausted and uninterested in running. Some of that feeling can be attributed to the fact that I don’t like road marathons, they are as boring as shit to me and I did consider just turning the car round and heading home.

However…

I got a bit of a second wind and met some of the local runners and also a few of the crowd who hang out with Rachel and Traviss from the Saxons, Normans and Vikings events and I realised that I might be about to have a fun day.

As I trundled along the course, taking in some lovely views across the northern England coast and most southerly of Scottish coastlines I found something I had not experienced in a very long time – a road marathon I could enjoy. This was one of the happiest races I would take part in over the course of 2021 and I would happily go back to the Solway Coast Marathon time and time again, I mean I’d probably be more keen to wear some road shoes to run it but other than that it was brilliant. This was such a small and perfectly formed event that I can’t heap enough praise on it and it had a cracker of a medal too – for more information there is a review of this race at ultraboyruns.com.

Perhaps most importantly I came away from this race with a tremendous amount of self belief and that would be crucial going into the following week where I would face four events over four days at the now infamous ‘Tour of Tameside’.

Merciless Murder

I’ve written about the Tour of Tameside (click for race review) and spoke about it extensively in the season one finale of the podcast (listen here) and it genuinely saddens me to say that I really disliked the Tour of Tameside. I think the thing is that when you travel a long way to do events you hope that they are good, or at the very least offer you something interesting and the Tour of Tameside offered me nothing positive. I found the tour tedious and energy sapping and over the four events my love of running was mercilessly murdered.

After this series of events I simply stopped running and have struggled ever since to get back into any kind of consistency, it doesn’t help that it was one of these four events that was the proper kick off of my hip flexor injury but it was so much more than that. It was the Covid security of the event which really wasn’t up to scratch, it was the crappy medals, the dull as dishwater routes and on and on.

The highlight of the event was leaving Tameside, a sad indication of how little I enjoyed it.

But finding a chink of light in every shitty experience is something we aim to do and so I found one here! The journey was made more worthwhile in that I finally got to meet the lovely Nicky and Rob who both make my highlights of 2021, meeting them, especially Nicky provided some significant solace against my anguish over attending the Tour of Tameside.

DNSs

The injury that I picked up though did mean that I was a non-starter the John Lucas Memorial and that was another kick in gonads.

I was also a non-starter at the Speyside Way Ultra because of a logistical parenting issue, although injuries were still there in the background, but I was very much trying to massage them across them start lines and more importantly finish lines.

The Speyside Way DNS was different because the GingaNinja was called into surgery late to try and save an animals life and by the time she got home it was too late for me to make it to the start line and I hadn’t been able to leave the house as I was on parenting duty. It was a case of ‘oh well, can’t be helped’ and I wasn’t as pissed off about it as I thought I would be, perhaps because I knew secretly my body needed more recovery time. That said, getting to the start line of the Speyside Way remains high on my event list and I’ll certainly be looking to start in 2022 or 2023.

Niggles

The problem really was that this succession of niggles, issues and complications led to a downward mental spiral that I am still addressing, but when you combine it with the physical injury stresses then it should come as no surprise that my end of 2021 was a lot less positive than the start. But as September rolled around and with three shiny new ‘did not starts’ I felt that maybe I might be about to turn a corner and knew that if I completed the Cheviot Goat and all the Ranger Ultras races I would still surpass my goal of 60 ultra marathons since March 2013.

Big Tatties

Thankfully, it wasn’t all doom and gloom and when I most needed to find some joy in running I had a truly amazing time at the Great Perthshire Tattie Run (click for race review).

It seems that when you’re most feeling down that those closest to you ride in upon a glittery unicorn and rescue you. The GingaNinja, ASK and I were all competing in different races at the Perthshire Tattie Run, carrying large loads of potatoes and it was such a joyous thing I can’t quite describe it.

It’s one of those things that when you run such a short distance you get a massive buzz because it’s over before its started and to an ultra runner you can just soak it all in, it is a zero pressure race. The Tattie Run at just 1 mile makes you realise how much fun, running can actually be – even when you’ve got 20kg of spuds on your back.

As we left Perth hauling our swag of 32.5kg of spuds and a trio of medals I remember the faces of my two fellow runners and that will be the gift that keeps on giving.

Ultra anyone?

But not all races can be just 1 mile and so there was the return to the ultra marathon distance in September and although my hip flexor remained a constant issue I had decided to run. The event was part of a grand slam series of races that I should have completed in 2020 but the old C word put the kybosh on that so I instead took part in the 2021 edition starting with the Pennine Bridleway 55 (click for race review).

The trouble was that the grand slam was taking part over a 7 week rather than 7 month period because it had been condensed together after the April edition of the Pennine Bridleway was delayed due to restrictions at the time.

I concluded that I didn’t want to wait another year to try my hand at these events and so I found myself working towards the start line of the PB55.

Now had I realised that the Peak District is about 6 hours away from where I live and that my partners working schedule meant that I couldn’t leave until she arrived home at about 9pm the night before the race I might have thought somewhat differently about doing these. However, I loaded the car with litres of coffee, chocolate and milkshake and rolled up to a very small and perfectly formed event and although the hard packed nature of the trail would be an absolute shit for my body I did indeed enjoy myself. I met so many wonderful people, I ran alongside some truly exceptional athletes and I found in the organisers a team I really liked.

What I will admit is I really didn’t enjoy the afterwards of searching for diesel during the middle of the fuel crisis, nor did I enjoy the English approach to Covid that I was witnessing, because by the summer of 2021 people seemed to have forgotten or where choosing to ignore the pandemic and that was troubling.

However, despite my reservations about returning to England I looked forward to testing myself on what looked to be the highlight of the grand slam – the Yorkshire Three Peaks Ultra (click for race review).

Three bloody peaks

The Yorkshire Three Peaks Ultra was both a little bit closer to me in terms of travel albeit with the same logistical issues but I turned up to a truly brilliant event, even better than the PB55, it was a bigger and therefore a bigger atmosphere but it just had a real buzz about it that I got right into the groove of.

I’ve already said all I need to say about how great Ranger Ultras are; some might accuse me of ‘licking the hole’ but actually they just know how to organise a damn fine event and as the Yorkshire Three Peaks brutalised the fuck out of me I realised just how much Stu Westfield and the team understood ultra running.

I delighted in the up and I delighted in the down of this race – I mean it is true to say that the injuries that had been furthered during the Pennine Bridleway really fucked me over here but that didn’t stop me from finishing the 70km version of the event with a smile, at least inside I was smiling.

Outwardly I was obviously angry as I had failed to complete the 100km version of the event and therefore my grand slam was over – something that I was really hoping to achieve but it just wasn’t to be and as I drifted in and out of conciousness during my drive home along the M74 I chastised myself regularly for that failure.

Not making the grand slam, primarily because of the injuries I had sustained in the earlier part of the year drew into question whether I would bother turning up for the final two races of the slam, there seemed little point and with the Cheviot Goat a couple of weeks afterwards it seemed like I should remain at home but with my name at the top of the ‘points leaderboard’ I felt like this was an opportunity I could grasp

On reflection and after what happened I wish I hadn’t bothered but I did.

I recall sitting in the kitchen with the GingaNinja and saying, ‘I’m top of the Ranger Ultras leaderboard, well joint top…’ The GingaNinja looked at me in a bemused way and replied, ‘but you’re a terrible runner’.

And this was were my vexation came from, I am a terrible runner and therefore I shouldn’t be at the top of a leader board simply for turning up – a point I made to the race organisers when I next saw them, which handily was just a few days after the conversation with the GingaNinja took place.

Peaks-y-boo

I rolled up for a weekend of running in the Peaks amongst people I had come to consider friends and comrades, old and new but I left feeling deflated and distraught about running (click for race review).

In short the first day of the racing had gone pretty badly, I had a suspected broken foot and my hips were in pieces, added to this was the ignomy of being DNF’d from the event despite finishing the first day and this meant that I couldn’t reach 60 ultras this year no matter what happened at the Cheviot Goat.

I knew that I had done something serious to my foot and I should have DNF’d at about mile 2 but I didn’t because I believed, incorrectly, that a finish on day one would count towards my ultra total – a total that I am ultimately proud of as it a testament to my mental attitude in the face of being a piss poor athlete. But to finish day one of the Peaks North & South weekend and have it not count and therefore be a waste of my effort, left a very sour taste in my mouth.

Don’t get me wrong it was my mistake and I accept that, I should have checked the rules and I should have checked the route (which was mostly very hard packed and not suited to someone as injury prone as I can be). Had the organisers DNS’d me for day two and allowed me the finish for day one I would have been very happy with that, I could have tried to get ready for the Goat and reach 60 ultras that way but instead it brought to a close my grand slam adventure in the least satisfying of ways.

That being said all the hundreds of positive points of racing with Ranger Ultras remain true and I would certainly say they are worthy of consideration – especially the Yorkshire Three Peaks Ultra. And for the most part I have nothing but the highest regard and the highest of praise for Stu Westfield and the whole of the Ranger Ultras family.

Six to eight what?

My attendance at the first day of the Peaks North & South double did though create a quandary of whether I would be making the Cheviot Goat because my foot was looking pretty grim and when I went to the hospital I was advised that a minimum of 6-8 weeks without running was in order. Well of course what I heard was 6 to 8 days and so I planned to be on the start line with 10 days of no running and careful planning to get me round.

I ordered new kit, lots of it in order to give me an even lighter weight advantage against the various injuries that had plagued me in the second half of the year, I lurked around social media as other people commented on the route, the storm, the bogs and even whether to take crampons!

I had decided I would leave it until the last second to decide if I would go and then as my bags were packed, my kit was selected and the car was ready to go the Cheviot Goat was cancelled.

The Goat was never going to be the final event of the year for me but it would be the final significant one and it was hugely disappointing not to be testing myself in the cold of Northumberland. However, whatever I was feeling about the Goat would be inconsequential compared to the distress that would be caused to the organisers and anyone else affected by the ravages of Storm Arwen.

I’m fortunate in that I will line up next year at The Goat and I will thank the whole team for their efforts because they really deserve it. I’m hopeful I’ll get to see many of them in January as I have signed up for the Winter Wipeout from Cold Brew events and I can’t wait to get out there (having now run this you can read the review here).

The end?

But before the Winter Wipeout, 2021 isn’t quite over, I have a festive 7km to run with the family in a few days time and this will be ASKs biggest race distance (click for race review) and after her outstanding performance at the rather hilly Edinburgh MoRun in November I am pretty convinced that she has what it takes to make the step up to 7km and beyond.

So 2021 hasn’t been a waste but it certainly hasn’t been a success and I’m sad about that but we live and learn, well we live anyway.

Best of 2021?

Despite the shit show that 2021 appeared to be there were several big highlights, obviously there was the general return to racing but there were some significant specifics that really made a memorable mark on me – Shaun for example at the White Peaks 50km, the time I spent with him was very, very memorable. Seeing the joy on ASKs face as she earned a second medal at the MoRun. Running into the sea at St Andrews to chase down a man dressed as a Lobster was perhaps the funniest thing I did in racing this year but the absolute highlight would probably be the time I spent with the wonderful Kieran at the Ultra Scotland 50, it was simply the most glorious few hours of running I did this year with much swearing done, lots of pain and just general big kids pissing about in the hills, desperate to finish! I suppose that’s the thing about the running I do its all solo except for when I go racing and then I delight in the people that I meet.

There is probably a lesson in that statement for me, if only I could see it…

Of course one other event took place that I haven’t mentioned here yet and this is the Craggy Island Triathlon – an event I didn’t take part in but I had an instrumental role in because my partner was racing in it and I was volunteering. Perhaps the best thing I did in 2021 was that at the end of the race, infront of everyone I chose to ask her to marry me – something that will have wide ranging implications well beyond 2021 and most people think that after 13 years it was about time.

What went so badly wrong with 2021?

I’m usually pretty good at identifying the big issue that caused the ruining of my year but in 2021 it was different, I’m struggling to put my finger on it. I mean I know the big causes of the unravelling and that was the hip flexor injury but beyond this there was the mental unravelling that began with the Tour of Tameside and that is something that no physiotherapist or rest will help.

The real shit is that I did lots of the right things for a change, my weight dropped, I did training, I did cross training, I did stretching, I went for regular physiotherapy sessions, I returned to writing the blog, I started the podcast but nothing ever really went very well, all of the races had twinges, all the efforts felt laboured and as a new year approaches I hope to leave that sense of foreboding and wheezing behind me.

What did I learn to take into 2022?

Well I’d like to say that I learnt lots from 2021 that will better inform my racing next year but the truth be told I’m such an old stick in the mud that I’ll just repeat the same old mistakes again – I’m full of good intentions that just never happen, however, I’m going to try and do the things I did well in 2021 again and avoid the things I did badly in 2021 and we’ll see if I make it through a full calendar or events.

Running in a COVID world

Running in a COVID world was initially very odd but by the end I appreciated it and I found that being in Englandshire were rules were relaxed much more quickly than they have been in Scotland I found myself rather more nervous than when closer to home.

I didn’t enjoy a lot of what I saw in England and the attitude towards Covid and I’m grateful for Scotland’s tighter restrictions and peoples desire to follow the rules. I feel that covid guidance will very significantly influence my 2022 decision making regarding the races that I run.

Best running event of 2021?

This is a tough one, especially as I managed not to start three of the events I was due to run and at the time of the original writing of this I had yet to decide if I was to run the Cheviot Goat, although that decision was taken out of everyone’s hands when the event was cancelled at the last moment because of local council declaring an emergency.

At the time of writing I would say that the highlight of the year has been the Yorkshire Three Peaks, this was a real bastard of a route and a genuine trail which I 100% loved. I was a little sad not to run the extra 30km but I’m  not sure I missed much as it would just have been for time on my feet rather than enjoyment. I found great joy in the organisation and the team behind Ranger Ultras and though there was a bitterness left after being DNF’d rather than DNS’d at day 2 of the Peaks weekend I cannot deny my general love of the guys who put the Ranger Ultras events on.

I would also add that running the MoRun around Holyrood Park with my family was also genuinely brilliant and to witness was 7 year old, as the youngest runner on the course, not only finish but also finish well, was a real joy.

The only bitterness I have regarding this is that I know she could have shaved about 8 minutes off her time but we decided that we would run it as a family and that meant running at the pace of our slowest runner, the GingaNinja. Maybe next year we’ll run a few races without mum!

Best bit of kit of 2021?

I bought a shit load of kit in 2021, perhaps to make up for the fact that I really didn’t buy very much in 2020 – there were several new pairs of Topo Athletic running shoes including the excellent Terraventure 3 and the MTN Racer 2, both of which performed brilliantly in every scenario I hurled at them.

There was also the brilliant Montane Gecko VP+ 12 which was a replacement for brilliantly flawed Salomon ADV Skin 12 which destroyed the skin on my back at both the Pennine Bridleway 55 and the Yorkshire Three Peaks Ultra.

There was also much purchase of many, many running tops as I restocked my Ronhill long sleeved options and bought up what seemed like the last of the amazingly designed and garish original Oddballs training tops.

There was also the addition of the Insta360 One X2 as I looked to diversify the type of footage I shoot for the blog and the other social channels and I found this to be a lot of fun and having finally sourced a second battery for it I can start to take it on races with me.

But the best bits of kit I bought in 2021 were actually unrelated to running.

I’ve always been a bit of a one trick pony, in that my only hobby has been running, I talk running, I breathe running, I live running and I bore to death anyone I come across because of my fascination with running (and poo stories related to running). Therefore, it comes as a bit of surprise that my best bit of kit this year is probably my new paddling gear which includes a Liquid Logic Lil’ Joe river running kayak and a Pyhrana Surfjet 2.0 – these along with ASK’s love of paddle boarding means that we have another active avenue which we can explore together, although I am bitterly disappointed that the 5km New Years Day paddleboard race that I had entered has been cancelled.

Boo fucking hoo, I hear you cry! Ha! I never thought I’d say this but if you’re a runner and you’re a running bore like me, get another hobby to go alongside it, its awesome!

The Future?

A couple of weeks ago I’d have said that the future is more of the same but there were issues at my race that have really given a kick in the nutsack that make me wonder if running is for me.

Don’t get me wrong, I love running, I love the long distance running and getting lost inside myself, I love the writing and podcasting that comes with it and I love sharing my adventures but the costs just keep rising and I don’t mean the financial implications (although ask me about that after my Ultimate Directions Fastpack 20 arrives from France and I’ve got a stinking import duty bill to pay).

What I mean is that my body is suffering and suffering increasingly badly and the pay-offs are getting less and less.

So when I travelled 6 hours to the Peak District and finished day one of the Ranger Ultras races and thought I had earned a finish and possibly even a medal but it turned out that what I’d earnt was fuck all other than a DNF and an exhausting 6 hour drive home, that really doesn’t help create enthusiasm for racing.

Now take out the fact that I really like the guys who run the Ranger Ultras stuff this means that their cheap as chips event was actually incredibly expensive to me with nothing to show for it, well except that DNF and a visit to the X-ray department to see if I had broken my foot… oh and the likelihood that I wouldn’t be making it to the next race.

Even if I’d had the best day out in all the racing I’ve ever done this still probably wouldn’t have been worth all the effort and I’ll be honest it wasn’t a bad day out, but it certainly wasn’t anywhere the best. If it had been an isolated incident then maybe I could just put it down to one of those things but there is no doubt that the Ultra Scotland 50, for all that it gave, left me feeling a little deflated and lonely, in the running sense.

So the future of my running has to be to do things that really, really float my boat and to that end I’d originally looked at starting the year with a paddle board race, but this has been cancelled, so instead I’ve decided to join the GingaNinja for a weekend of running – she’s doing the Kielder 10km Night Run and then the following morning we’ll be off for me to face the Cold Brew Events Winter Wipeout that I have already mentioned – although the GingaNinjas race has been cancelled and it is just my event to run now!

Then I’m doing a couple of local looped ultras in January and February followed hopefully by a return to Kent for a 900 mile round trip to race 10 epic miles around Vigo and I’ve just added in a 6hour looped event with my old friends at SVN events – so that’ll be a nice amble down memory lane.

I’ll finish up the races that have hung over from 2020 such as the Loch Ness 360 and the Bonnie Prince Ultra as well as Run the Blades and then I’ll find more of those low key ball busters I love. Maybe the Cairngorms Ultra or Glen Lyon both of which I have been keen to try, maybe the Ochils Ultra which I was sick as a dog on when I attempted it in 2019 and if Covid allows it is about time I returned to the SainteLyon, my favourite ultra marathon and the best race experience I have ever had.

Perhaps the other thing that I will doing in 2022 is finally getting my running group up and moving, it is the thing that I am most nervous about because it creates a responsibility and a timetable that I might need to adhere to but that is in the near future and should be up and running by the time the first real episode of the second season of the podcast comes around.

Keep your fingers crossed for me.

But if I only learn one lesson this year and its that I really need to run the stuff I want to rather than run the stuff that fits.

And so

Thanks for reading, this may not have been very interesting but there might have been some things in my own musings that you are considering yourself, especially about how to deal with things going wrong. And if any of you wish to get in touch with me you can do so at ultraboycreates@gmail.com and I’m always going to be happy to chat through running or adventuring and the highs and lows associated.

Running can be lonely and if the pandemic has taught us anything it is that we need to grasp opportunity and be more open to those opportunities.

So that’s the end of 2021 and my review of it, the blog has already started for 2022 and so has the podcast. I’m sure I’ll be sharing more of my adventures via Instagram throughout the year and more episodes of the podcast will be coming later in the year – hopefully it will be a 10 episode season where I will be looking at things like wild camping with a child, my top 5 ultra marathons, kit reviews including OMM running packs and Topo Athletic shoes as well as interviews with more runners who are much like myself – just trying to get along.

In the meantime, enjoy your running and see you next time.

Below are links to reviews of my 2021 events listed above.

So this weekend I should be running The Montane Cheviot Goat, I’ve been excited about this for a long time now – probably about 3 years since I first entered it but was injured in the run up and so did not start the race in 2018.

I entered again only for the pandemic to delay the start several times and so we come to Wednesday, today, two days before I need to leave home and drive down to Northumberland and begin a race I have long admired.

Here’s the rub though, there are issues, positives and negatives. What do I do?

Positives

  1. This is a race that I have long wanted to run.
  2. The organisers have pulled out all the stops to make sure the event goes ahead after storm Arwen.
  3. Running and racing in winter is one of my favourite things to do.
  4. I get to use all the new gear I have bought for this event.
  5. I get out of going to my daughters piano recital.
  6. I get to link up with the likes of the awesome Ian Braizer and Kate Allen.
  7. It’s another opportunity to race.

Negatives

  1. My hip flexor and abductor are fucked.
  2. After my foot injury in the Peak District two weeks ago I have not run since.
  3. Covid and its variants are on the rise.
  4. Storm Arwen damage may make it more challenging both on the day and logistically for all concerned.
  5. I am navigationally challenged.
  6. I was advised by the doctor who looked at my foot 2 weeks ago that I need 6-8 weeks of rest from running for reasons I’m not allowed to publish in case the GingaNinja reads this. The doctor did confirm though that I didn’t fracture my foot as this would have made me an immediate DNS.
  7. Being fucked off by the White Peaks 50km has left me in a bit of a funk about running.
  8. There is the fear of a Goat DNF.
  9. I haven’t run an overnight race in about 3 years.
  10. I’m not a very good driver and fear being caught and stranded in snow with nothing but a shitload of chocolate for company.

I’m not worried about the weather or the underfoot conditions or anything like that I worry about not being able to finish or being the stupid bastard that needs the mountain rescue. In fairness to myself I’ve got good mountain skills for the most part, save for being a bit navigationally challenged (though I’ve bought a Garmin Etrex as back up to my Fenix 6X to help with that) and I can read a map to a point.

I’m more concerned about my hip flexor injury and my foot both of which may make a finish unlikely but its a proper trail race and my hip flexors stand up to trail better than they do tarmac and so maybe that might mitigate the problem enough to get me round. The foot though is an unknown that might rear its ugly mug or not show up at all.

Maybe I’m worried about nothing but the question remains ‘to Goat or not to Goat’?

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

Overview

  • 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

Route
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.

Organisation
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.

Runners
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.

Awards
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.

My Race
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.

but…

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.

Conclusions
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.

Find out more at the Ranger Ultras website here. You can look into the ominous 270km Pennine Bridleway Race here or you can find them on Facebook here.

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

Have you ever had one of those days where you think that if the ground opened up and swallowed you whole to be digested over a thousand year period that your day was probably about to improve?

Then you, dear reader, have some idea about what my day at the Yorkshire Three Peaks Ultra was like. Rest assured though, and for those that won’t be reading to the lengthy end, the Y3PU is a stunningly brilliant event, so whats the story?

Read on…

Beep, beep, beep, thwack, ugh, I’m up.

There I was in my bed dreaming about being Luke Skywalker when the series of noises above meant it was about 2am and I was getting up to head to Hawes in Yorkshire for the second of four races in the Ranger Ultras Grand Slam.

As I stood in the shower I felt resolute about the 100km race I was soon to embark upon, what I felt a lot less resolute about was my confidence in my the hip flexor injury that I’d picked up at the Pennine Bridleway, a few weekends earlier, that was getting worse and not better.

Dressed, I headed downstairs for a breakfast of champions – chocolate milkshake, coffee and Shredded Wheat (not all in one bowl). I’d have liked a few minutes to relax but I focused instead on trying to push out that pre-race dump but having had three or four days of the galloping trots there was nothing doing. So, after kissing the family goodbye and having a final kit check whilst hiding under the boot of car from the hurtling rain, I departed.

Yes I departed only to be met by a closed motorway… oh joy I thought as I swung off the motorway and followed the ridiculous directions from Google. Still despite my false start I was still primed to arrive a little before 7am and if I gave it a bit of welly down the M74 I’d probably have enough time to have a second crack at that pre-race poo.

I’d usually opt for some serious singing or big happy tunes on the way to a race but for a change I was listening to BBC 5Live because it’s sometimes reassuring to listen to people mad enough to call in to be on the radio in the middle of the night because they’re even less sane than those of us who choose ultra marathon running as our sport.

Anyway, after a couple of hours of listening to insomniacs that call talk radio I swapped the fast quiet motorway driving for a spot of relatively busy dark country lanes. Now armed with about a litre and a half of strong coffee in my veins I moved swiftly, albeit it nervously. It was quite a long way from Tebay (my motorway turn off) to Hawes and I didn’t enjoy it and when the tight country lanes finally abated at the entrance to the picturesque town of Hawes I was very grateful.

I parked up in the excellent local facility and grabbed myself a bit more rocket fuel and a pouch of Icelandic superberry yoghurt! I know how to live don’t I? Thankfully now as fuelled as I was going to get I slipped onto my Japanese mattress in the back of the car and began the ‘dance of the lube’.

The ‘dance of the lube’ is where I try and squeeze my running lubrication stick in a variety of body shaped holes in order to reduce the problem of chaffing whilst simultaneously contorting my body into shapes I didn’t know it could make to ensure the lube stick didn’t end up stuck in one of my body shapes.

Ah success, my nipples, nut sack, toes, arsehole and everywhere else should once more be free from the threat of chaffing. I chose to wear kit option one for today because although it was chilly and there was moisture in the air it didn’t look horrendous. So it was bamboo base layer, long sleeved ronhill top, omm 3/4 leggings, some dirty girl gaiters, Drymax socks and an old friend to accompany on one final ultra marathon – my Altra Lone Peak 3.5 – I was dressed.

The one thing I did seriously consider though was the choice of race vest.

There were two things, the first was should I wear the Salomon ADV Skin 12 which might have been responsible for some nasty, nasty chaffing at the Pennine Bridleway 55 and second should I bother packing it at all given that Ranger Ultras seem to take kit checks very seriously and I’d only end up unpacking it all anyway.

In the end I decided to wear the ADV Skin 12 and pack it to race – both would be a mistake!

I got chatting to a lovely, and tough as anything I’d surmise, chap called Chris who was in the car next to me. We shared a bit of chat about the race, locality and the mistakes we had both made in pissing off our respective other halves. It was good to know it wasn’t just me. But with time ticking on we went our separate ways and I ambled down to the welcome and hustle and bustle of the village hall.

This was so very different from the Pennine Bridleway 55 which had been very casual, very intimate – this was a bigger event and yet despite being bigger it felt warm, cosy and like you’d arrived at your grans house where she’d put the kettle on and laid out some fruitcake. However, be under no illusion that’s where Ranger Ultras and a pleasant elderly lady comparisons end, because in the background and behind the warmth and smiles it was all action.

I was directed to the correct number collection and then warmly welcomed by the remarkably jolly Race Director Stu Westfield. I like Stu, he embodies the positive attitude that I’ve always associated with ultra running. He then directed me over to the kit check where I was asked to show my map(s), waterproof jacket, headtorch and bivvy bag.

Now I’m all for a kit check, I believe it is vital to ensure that runners going out into potentially difficult conditions have at least the basics covered but I should have learnt by now – don’t pack my kit before the check. I started emptying my race vest all over the table in search of the four key items, the interesting thing was then that when I finally managed to get my waterproof jacket out the lovely and rather thorough gent then took it out of its stuff sack to check for both the taped seams and the hood.

Having cleared number collection and kit check I took up residence at one of the tables set up in the hall to begin putting my kit back together, fold, twist, squeeze, crush, pack and relax. Some minutes later I found myself sat quietly watching the hall fill up with runners bimbling around doing their thing. I chatted to a few of the others including the lovely Shaun who had travelled about as far as I had to test himself at the Yorkshire Three Peaks Ultra and Danny who had the finest of moustaches and was celebrating his 30th birthday.

I noticed that much like the Pennine Bridleway 55 there was a big kitchen accessible to the runners and individual breakfast bits to chow down on pre-laid out for us – I didn’t partake of any of this but I know lots of the competitors did. I enjoyed this period of watching, listening and chatting – the calm before the storm I suppose you might describe it as but the storm was coming and so as the 9 o’clock start approached the RD started to gently organise the runners into the Pen-Y-Ghent 50km competitors and the Y3PU competitors and suddenly it felt like we were off.

Brilliant.

Well it would have been brilliant if I hadn’t done something stupid with my Garmin and managed to not set it up properly and found myself running down the beautiful little main street of Hawes attempting to correct my technical error so that the watch could guide me from here to the end. Thankfully I wasn’t suddenly and unexpectedly required to navigate via the map that I had securely stowed in my pack – no, I had managed to get the GPX up and running and I was away.

Brilliant.

Well it would have been brilliant if I hadn’t found myself as part of a tunnel or sausage roll of runners trying to get through a tiny little gap in the path – I know someone local will know what these are called but I don’t. I joke, actually it was nice to have a moments to look up and finally see the Yorkshire in all its misty, moist glory.

But to the running, the competitors, made up of all shapes and sizes jumped, leaped, stepped and meandered through the series of little gates and across fields, paths, mud and trail and suddenly we were in a race. What I knew was that there was a decent stretch, probably about 10 miles or so that made up the outward section to our first of the three peaks and this meant that post the three peaks there would be 10 miles or so to run back to the finish. Basic maths then puts me in for about 20 miles or so of hills and that meant there should be lots of trail and not too much tarmac – yummy!

What I hadn’t expected, because I am in no way familiar with the area, was how tough that outward section would be. I found myself daydreaming to a few hours in the future and what I might look like as I wearily wended my way back. However, I was also having a lovely and busy time meeting runners on the route, recounting tales of misery and woe to all who wanted listen and some that didn’t. The route really was a trail and it was amazingly beautiful, even on a day when the weather had closed in all around us I could really appreciate the magnificence of Yorkshire.

What I knew was that the ground was mostly firm and running conditions were perfect and I really took advantage of this in the early stages of the race, pushing as hard as I could and remembering the advice of ultra running legend Traviss Wilcox, ‘get through the first half as fast as you can and survive the second half’. I took this advice to heart and was sticking to it dogmatically as I pushed up the climbs as fast as I could. I gave no ground in these early stages and made good progress through the field and when we hit ground that was a little flatter I put on what I would refer to as a bit of a spurt.

Brilliant.

Well it would have been brilliant if I hadn’t had my hip flexor give up the fight at about 1km in. I was injured, there was no doubt about it and so when I reached the flat and pushed the accelerator I was fully aware that the pain that was running through my groin, leg and hip was only going to get worse as the race wore on.

The lovely thing though was that I was really enjoying myself – something that has been largely missing from my running in recent times and with the grand slam still in play I wanted to leave nothing out here and that required me to keep my spirits up and remember why I love this.

The straight stretch seemed to go on forever but in the distance I could see signs of life and what looked like a checkpoint, no time to stop and no need either – my bottles were for the most part full and I still had a good amount of food on board so I waved at the volunteers (one of whom recognised me from the PB55) and then looked into the face of the first major descent.

This is how the Yorkshire Three Peaks Ultra really fucks with you, it lulls you into a false sense of security, for example the descent here looked pretty benign and a bit banal and without much to think about but when you considered that you would be coming back up this slow, long, ascent then it looked pretty cruel. I remember thinking that on the descent that my quads were feeling it and that I wished I had my MTN Racer on instead of my Lone Peaks because I’d have been more inclined to run harder downhill in them rather than accept the soft pillow-like feel of my Altra.

I was running with Gareth and Paul at this point and they had been excellent company and excellent navigators, if memory serves both had been here before and knew what they were talking about. As is the way though with ultra marathons you really must run your own race and so although we reached the checkpoint together I don’t really remember seeing much more of them, they must have sped away from me and that was just fine.

At the checkpoint I realised this was the last stop before the first of the three peaks and I had no intention of going up without filling the water bottles, topping up the active root and also having something to eat. I stuffed in my big fat gob a couple of the big purple ones from the quality street and a strawberry cream to help wash down the nuts.

I thanked the volunteers, left and caught sight of the viaduct that dominates the landscape on this part of the route. At 400 metres long and with 24 arches the Ribblehead Viaduct is an imposing and impressive sight amongst all the greenery and I very much enjoyed running alongside it. However, the sightseeing was put to one side as the route moved gently upwards and around, all the time moving towards the first peak of Whernside.

As you approach Whernside it really doesn’t look like much at all but it is a bit of a knacker kicker really. First of all there’s the long lonely path, punctuated only by a succession of hikers all wondering why they are out and about in the rain. I trundled along perfectly merrily albeit rather slowly, my hip was at its worst when going uphill and even the presence of my running poles wasn’t enough to mitigate the effect on my pace. Runners who had been minutes behind me were now catching me and despite my best intentions I didn’t feel like I had it in me to push.

The sight of a fellow runner just below me, Michelle, was a nice break and for a few minutes chatted about running and life and I genuinely found this the perfect antidote to the climb – if I didn’t say it at the time, ‘thanks’ it was really appreciated.

Eventually though my companion disappeared into the mist and I continued upwards and eventually was rewarded with a summit full of young adults snd a rather wet gentleman attempting to assert some control. It was here that Danny, he of the moustache, ran past…

Brilliant.

Well it was brilliant, Danny had a real zing about him, his voice was soothing and his words were kind and as we began the descent I realised he was going to be much stronger than me and I wouldn’t be able to match his pace but that didn’t stop me trying because the benefit of running with someone so wonderfully positive might lift my darkening mood. Now I’m a terrible runner but the one thing I’m pretty good at is foot placement on a downhill and so with all the vim and vigour I could manage I started punching well above my actual ability and thundering my way down the rather rocky, muddy, slippery, step laden and mildly technical downhill.

This was a wonderful period for me and despite the pain I was in I was finding the route, the views and the whole experience absolutely amazing – the trail was wonderful but as the downhill flattened out I started to slow and the runners that I had caught overtook me once more followed by more yo-yo-ing with my fellow competitors. I pulled into the next checkpoint not long after and the sight of the Ranger Ultras signage was most welcome but I saw something that sent a real chill down my spine, a competitor who had withdrawn from the race – bloody hell and it was followed by another one who was having groin problems – it made me think of my own issues and would I find myself sat in the back of a camper waiting to be taken back to the start?

Negative thoughts are a nightmare and with two peaks still to go I needed to try and put them to the back of my mind and so filled my water bottles once more and headed out. You don’t realise how tough it is on your legs all the up and downhill until you stop for a moment and then have to get going and let me assure you that my legs did not want to get going again.

In the distance I could see Ingleborough and knew instantly that this climb would be something of a beast to overcome.

The one big positive though was that I was managing to consume food and actually was really keen on eating, I had yoghurt and kids fruit smoothies as well as some other bits and pieces to support the Active Root. The thought that occurred to me was that I wouldn’t have enough of the food I craved to get me round the course! The yoghurt and fruit smoothie pouches are especially handy as they are aimed at kids and tend not to be quite so sugary or filled with things that might upset my stomach – but they wouldn’t be available at the checkpoints. I decided I would have one of each going up Ingleborough and then the other going up Pen-Y-Ghent and then eat whatever else I had as the need arose.

I was slow going up to the steep climb of Ingleborough, slower than I had been at the first peak and I found myself carving out a path that would get me up as safely and pain free as possible. Ahead of me there were small figures dotted on the face of the climb and below me there were small faces looking up seeking a route up.

Step by step, stone by stone I clambered my way along until I overcame the first of the false summits and as I turned and saw nothing for miles but mist my heart sank a little but I was fortunate to meet a gentleman at this point, much like Danny before him, who would share some of his time with me and would play the yo-yo game for many miles. I’m sure we exchanged names but the truth is that from this point my head was really mashed and my focus was much more on the route than retaining the names of the many wonderful runners that help define my race. However, his advice was excellent and he reminded me that it’s all about, ‘see what happens at 70km’.

I’d explained about my hip pain and how it was becoming increasing excruciating to run but quite rightly he reminded that there’s no point worrying about what happens in the future – that will sort itself out as and when it comes. He clearly understood the mental issue I was having and with about 40km left to go I needed not to consumed by a desire to give up. It was therefore with an enormous sense of relief that the real top was reached and there were runners who had gone past us now retreating from the depths of the moist ahead.

‘You’re nearly at the top’ came the call and just a few metres ahead I could see the poor volunteers who had drawn the short straw of being at the top of Ingleborough to ensure runner safety. Oddly despite the wind, the cold and the moisture (I also presume they saw a share of rain up there) the guys were pretty jolly and that’s the mark of great marshalling, they could have just marked our number down but actually they were incredibly enthusiastic as they sent us on our way to the trig point a few hundred metres away.

I had intended to stop for a few minutes at the trig point but given the weather conditions and the lack of visibility there seemed little point and so I headed straight back down the alternative path and on my way to the bottom.

The descent off Ingleborough was tough going but reasonably quick but even though I was moving well and there was a small group of runners all moving together my problems continued to mount. In addition to the hip I could feel a burning in my lower back that didn’t feel like the usual back pain I get from wearing a race vest.

Bugger.

I’d had some rubbing of my race vest at the PB55 which had seemed really odd as it lay lower on my back than the pack sat. I was fortunate at the PB55 in comparison though because my slow moving had meant that the rubbing wasn’t too severe, however, here, now, with sweat dripping off me, my back burnt like inside of a pizza oven after a 12hr Saturday shift at Dominos! I really was having a day of two halves!

Onward and onward the little band of runners moved and much to our surprise the mist that had dogged almost the entire day started to lift and the sun started to poke its little face out. Now, as regular readers will know, the arrival of sunshine might be greeted by most of the great unwashed as a welcome sight but for my money the sun can sod off and I found myself shaking my fist in its direction, under my breath I even heard myself say, ‘oh feck off or it’s the Glasgow kiss for you’. Clearly it heard and the sunshine soon abated, although it would be back a little later.

Eventually we pulled into the next checkpoint and I ate a couple of spring rolls and as some Cadbury’s Heroes but I was feeling sick and my stomach was churning – not good but I needed to try and eat something. I downed my yoghurt and smoothie pouches for a boost and to try and settle my tummy. We would see if that would help. I filled my water bottles once more and topped up the Active Root, I felt like I was going to need it.

As I left the checkpoint I called to amassed marshals, ‘you’re the best checkpoint since the last one!’ and they were indeed brilliant and they handled the large group of runners who all arrived together incredibly well.

The little band of runners who I had been running with naturally disbanded at the checkpoint and I found myself amongst other runners, some I had already met, others that were new to me. It was here during the start of the steep climb to Pen-Y-Ghent that I was reacquainted with Graham, who despite being in lots of pain had decided against a DNF at the last checkpoint, and was pushing through.

He was a very inspiring runner to be around, as well as only being a runner for six years he was also in the midst of completing the Hardmoors Superslam, holy shit! His grit and determination was special and his climbing speed was much quicker than mine and so I clung on to his coat tails for dear life.

Up and up we climbed, slowly and steadily, being careful not to misplace our footing but a bit of a light scramble was just what the doctor ordered. As I started upward, attempting to see the summit I caught sight of a man I thought might well be Santa Claus, or perhaps Satan Claws coming to collect my dying body and soul. I called up, ‘I love your beard’. In response he raised his camera and tried to catch my fat side! Ha.

This was another amazing marshal, sat on high, up the peak, not only taking pictures but also ensuring our safe ascent to the top. Ranger Ultras clearly take the safety aspect very seriously indeed and I know all the runners were grateful for that.

Graham and I made the top and then began our descent, this was going to be tough but we were making reasonable enough time but Graham was going quicker than I was now and he started to power ahead a little bit. I started losing ground to a couple of other runners who were on the yo-yo too and as I looked back I realised I would soon be on my own and I feared that given my mental state.

I decided it was time to pull on the big boy pants and give myself the wedgie I so clearly needed!

‘Come on Ultraboy you can do this’ I thought.

I picked my feet up and started to move faster, Graham buddy I’m coming to find you – it was just about then that a young lady overtook me wearing the same coloured Salomon pack that I was, mud splattered all the was up her legs, I wondered if I looked the same from behind. I think her name was Min but I’m not 100% sure, as I say, my brain was pretty fried. For a little while she ignored me and thundered onward but I was pretty sick of being overtaken and so I set off chasing both her and Graham and within just a few hundred metres I could smell the mud beneath the lugs of their shoes.

‘Evening,’ I said as I reintroduced myself.

When you’re feeling like shit, you can’t eat, your back is burning from the rubbing of your race vest and you’re injured what you really need is some good chat with lovely people that have stories to tell. My companions were gracious enough to be both engaging, interesting and most of all willing to share. For miles we pushed to find our way back to the main path and then to the finish but such was my delight at the company I was keeping that I remembered to enjoy myself. We eventually of course did find the path and looking upwards we remembered the downhill we had all enjoyed/endured earlier in the day. My memory must have been a little bit fuzzy though because I was thinking this climb up to the checkpoint was probably no more than about half a mile.

Bugger.

Yes, my mind had played a cruel trick on me because the climb to the final checkpoint felt like the hardest slog of the day, just steep enough to be un-runnable when you’re absolutely ruined but not steep enough not to try. Our little trio moved as quickly as it could but the climb was draining our enthusiasm and all we wanted was to reach the checkpoint. The darkness had also surrounded us and we hurled our respective light sources on and ran by torchlight, I remembered that I hadn’t run like this since the Ultra Scotland and I have always found myself developing tunnel vision quickly when running by headtorch and so I moved between my hand and head light to ensure that I avoided the problem.

I felt that the three of us were searching the horizon for the twinkling of the marshals lights and then as we reached the tarmac I made out a slither of light and maybe the top of a car, we had reached the home strait.

I punched the afterburner button and ran with all haste into the checkpoint, there were a couple of lovely marshals there who would be out in the cold until around 1am – they really were incredible. I was hugely grateful to see John, one of the marshals I met at the PB55 again and he provided words of comfort and advice. He provided the verbal cuddle that I needed and sent me on my way armed with enough water to see it through.

My competitors had managed to get out of the checkpoint quicker than I and as I watched their headtorches running into the distance I felt a little wave of sadness, I stood on the trail for a moment stretching my back and gingerly wiping sweat away from the large angry and bloody wounds that were reaching right around my back. With my final adjustments I set out once again, this time along the flat but rocky and damp trail, I approached the trail with a surprising surefootedness and worked hard to catch the next set of bobbing lights because I had no wish to miss the turn off the trail and on to the downhill.

The running gods must have been looking down on me though as I saw what looked like a series of buzzing fireflies in the distance, at what it seemed was the turning point – yes a selection of the runners were either wondering if this was the right way or returning from the wrong way to get back on course. The GPX file confirmed that this was the point to move from the trail and I joined this posse of runners, there were so many familiar faces and there was a bit of a party atmosphere but I wanted to move a little bit quicker and so battered down the trail as quickly as I could – I could smell the finish and see the town of Hawes ahead of me.

Of course my brain being mashed I knew that there would be some more shit to deal with and I arrived at what looked like a crossroads and I didn’t fancy going wrong and so I waited for a few minutes until the party bus arrived and of course they immediately headed down the obvious direction!

Oddly the group started running, presumably because they had arrived on tarmac, oh what the bollocks. Bloody hell, my body doesn’t like tarmac at the best of times and this was not my best of times but there was a beat that we were hitting and each member of the group was pressing. There was still the challenge of the little gaps in the walls that we had to negotiate and this time I served as a bit of a doorman to allow the other runners quicker access along the route, I suppose this was my way of saying thank you to the crew who, like me, were just keen to get home.

And then out of nowhere I knew were I was, past the pub and back onto the main street of Hawes, ahead of me there was a runner or two and because I’m a complete and proper dick and there was an attractive lady who had come out of the pub to cheer us on, I put on a final, painful sprint but this time it was to the finish.

Pound, pound, pound. I could hear the sound of my feet against the pavement and I could feel my lungs burning and chest thumping as I passed the runner ahead of me and leapt up the stairs of the hall and into the light.

I’d made it, I’d made it. No DNF today.

When Stu Westfield asked if I was going back out, I gave a silent but firm, ‘no’ and so my grandslam effort would come to a rather sad end but at least I was still alive, something that I wasn’t sure I would be at various points during the event.

Injured, sick, bloodied and bruised but I had the finishers coaster to cherish, just not the 100km race finish.

Overview

  • Distance: 70/100km
  • Ascent: 2400 metres
  • Date: October 2021
  • Location: Hawes, Yorkshire
  • Cost: £50
  • Terrain: Trail
  • Tough Rating: 3.75/5

Route
I’m always on the hunt for a beautiful trail race, one that minimises the tarmac and one that is filled with aching beautiful vistas and challenge. Well I am very pleased to report that the Yorkshire Three Peaks Ultra from Ranger Ultras is right up there with the best of them. The whole route was a joy to behold, some might argue that better weather would have made this more scenic but I take the opposite view – there was enough clear sky to enjoy the sight of the massive loop that awaited you but there was also something mystical and majestic about the mist, the low visibility and also the little gems such as the viaduct.

Each of the little chocolate box villages that we passed through made this feel like we had stepped back in time and Hawes was simply an exceptionally pretty place to start the race. The route had something for everyone, if you like elevation it had that, if you like technical trails then it had some of that, if you liked big stone steps (nobody does) then it had a shitload of them, if you like steep, wet, muddy, scenic or fast descents then it had all of them too.

Yes it was bloody tough but it was equally beautiful and that makes it worthwhile doing.

Organisation
Last time I was rather lavish with my praise for the organisation of the race, well let me gush some more because the guys at Ranger Ultras under the leadership of Stu Westfield are amongst the best in the business. They make the logistical challenge of an ultra marathon look like child’s play and it really isn’t. I’ve witnessed what a shit show looks like in terms of organisation (looking at you Thames Gateway 100, 2013) and Ranger Ultras are anything but, they are just brilliant.

Value for Money
I genuinely don’t know how they do it – the Rangers Ultra races are some of the best value events around. If you haven’t entered one yet then just do it, you will not be disappointed. These events not only quality but also amazing value, I can’t praise the value for money enough – at about £50 entry this is possible one of the best value events in Englandshire (maybe second only to the Fellsman?) and the fact they offer you a ‘free’ 30km at the end of the race seems both brilliantly cruel and oddly generous.

Awards
As regular readers will know I love a medal, they are the main reason I do these ultra distances but Ranger Ultras are moving to wooden coasters and despite them being an absolute bugger to display they are much nicer than the medals. They are beautifully designed and nicely made. For those who are fast enough there are rewards to be had with trophies and the like but I’m never going to trouble those. I realise we are moving to more sustainable racing and it was excellent to see another cupless event being held but I would kill for a bit of Ranger Ultras merchandise, I mean I’d buy the hoodie and the shirt because I get the feeling that the team would make the right decisions about the kind of quality and sources they were getting them made from – just incase you’re reading this team I really like the Sheepish hoodies, one of those with a Ranger Ultras branding on would be perfect.

Volunteers and Support
Everyone was 100% amazing, from the first to the final person – the volunteers and marshals showed nothing but enthusiasm and energy and as an exhausted runner that can’t be underestimated. I will say a special thank you to John, who rescued my race at the final checkpoint and who made me laugh at the Pennine Bridleway 55. I know how challenging a stint volunteering can be and I can heard to say as I run past volunteers sometimes, ‘you guys have the hardest job’ and I really do mean it. However, in the case of Ranger Ultras we must doubly mean it because we had marshals and safety crew at all the major potential stumbling points and at all the key locations that a runner would really need some support. Brilliant.

Runners
I met so many runners during the race, probably more in this race than any other I have done in recent time and that may have something to do that I managed to perform a bit better than usual and so was higher up the pack than usual before dropping off. For the purpose of the blog and also politeness when you are chatting to someone for a little while I try to get the names of my fellow runners and also try and remember them but here names just dropped out of my brain like water through a sieve.

What I do know is that whether you had travelled far, were running your first ultra, were a little mountain goat, had run dozens of ultra marathons, had awesome facial fuzz or were concerned that hippy hikers might have gotten the magic mushrooms before you did, all of you played a massive part in me reaching any kind of finish line – I did not deserve to get to 70km, I wasn’t good enough on the day – but you, my fellow runners were and I thank you for my 58th ultra marathon finish.

My Race
I’ve outlined my race above but between my hip, feeling sick and my back I did not deserve to finish and that’s how I view my race. That’s a shame because I had a truly great time on the route and with Ranger Ultras and am sure as time passes I’ll only remember these positives but right now I feel a bit sad about the way I raced and not finishing the 100km.

What did I learn? Well the stomach issue was just one of those things that can happen to anyone and I’m sure that next time it won’t be in play. The back issue – well there are two issues, one is the general pain I get which the physiotherapist is helping me resolve but then there is the fact that my Salomon ADV Skin 12 chaffed the skin from back and then helped my body sweat straight into it – I won’t be wearing it again, or at least not over these kinds of distances. The hip though is is the big one, especially with the Double Peaks weekend coming up, am I going to make it to the start line well there’s some question marks about that.

The Grand Slam
And so because I failed to complete the 100km and only finished the 70km race I, like everyone else, bow out of the grand slam and I am very, very sad about this. I went into the Y3PU hoping that my hip would hold together for just a short 100km hop but instead it crucified me for mile after mile after mile. So with the grand slam gone I have thoughts and options that include

  1. Not running any further races this year
  2. Not running the Dark Peaks / White Peaks Double Race Weekend in favour of a longer recovery for the Cheviot Goat Ultra
  3. Running the Dark Peaks, the White Peaks and the Cheviot Goat

I mean I think I know where this is likely to end up and the chances are I’ll be sitting on the start line for at least the first day of running in the Peaks but the question is unlikely to be truly answered until the night I need to head down.

I also know that Kate Allen will be at the Peaks weekend and do I really want to disgrace myself in front of a runner I have much respect for? Ha!

Conclusions
There is a huge logistical challenge in my attending the Ranger Ultras events, the distance is one thing but there are lots of other factors that get in the way, not being local means I really have to think about whether I want to do it, are they worth the arse ache? Was it worth the hours of driving and the miles and miles on terrifyingly dark back roads from Tebay to Hawes? Was the wooden trinket worth needing all that coffee that would eventually come galloped out of my arsehole a day later? Was it worth pissing off a potentially nasty injury so you could enjoy the misty views over Yorkshire? 100% Yes.

This was a bold, brutal and beautiful event and for all my griping I get to sit here, writing this a week later, reliving my joy at some of those most exquisite moments I’ve had as an ultra marathoner. I fell very fortunate to have run the Yorkshire Three Peaks with Ranger Ultras because it was a classy event and the team that put it on are a class act.

Yes I’m annoyed at lots of things about this, but none of them are to do with the event – that was glorious. The issue, as always, is me, what I can tell you is that this race, much like its sibling the PB55 is highly recommended, especially for those of you who like your running hard and trail. You can find out more at the Ranger Ultras website here or take a look at their Facebook page here.

And finally if I haven’t convinced you to take the plunge on this wonderful event, well shame on me because that means I haven’t praised it hard enough. However, let me share with you a final little thing, I have now attempted 68 ultra marathons, I have completed 58 of them, I have run over 200 races in the last decade and of those 200 this one, the Ranger Ultras Yorkshire Three Peaks Ultra is most certainly in the top 10 of my favourite events. That is high praise because it shares that top 10 with great events such as the SainteLyon, the Skye Trail Ultra, MIUT, the Vigo Tough Love 10 and the Green Man Ultra, its tough to get to me to consider putting a race so highly on my list of all time favourites but the Y3PU instantly joins the club.

See you out there.

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).

Montane Prism Jacket and Ultraboyruns

About half a dozen years ago I bought a Montane Prism gilet, I’ve worn that gilet thousands of times during my ownership, I’ve used it in every condition, races, hiking, shopping and everything in between. It has been (and remains) one of my all time favourite pieces of kit that I own. It’s never failed me and it endures.

But this isn’t a review of my six year old Montane Prism gilet – this is a review of the latest edition of the Montane Prism jacket which I bought recently. Could this jacket be anywhere as good as the gilet it was brought in to support? The very simple answer is, ‘yes’.

I’m a self confessed Montane fan but that doesn’t mean that I love everything they do, there’s some of their kit that simply isn’t right for me but the Prism is not one of these things – the Prism jacket fits me like the proverbial glove. So what do Montane say are the features of the Prism;

Montane Prism Jacket and Ultraboyruns

CHEST POCKET
External chest pocket with YKK zip.
UB says: The chest pocket is a small easy accessible place to store your phone, snack or train ticket that won’t be impeded by your rucksack or bag. It’s large enough to be useful but not large enough to allow you to overfill. The angle that it is set at also means that you’ll find access even easier when you are on the move. The addition of the YKK zip is welcome too, at least for me, having used some of lightweight zips I find them to be much more easily broken, I’d rather have the miniscule extra grammage to ensure I’ve got a zip that works and will last.

Montane Prism Jacket and Ultraboyruns

ELASTICATED CUFFS
Low bulk elasticated cuffs to reduce heat loss.
UB says: Nice and simple close fitting elasticated cuffs, your gloves will go beneath if they need to and the cuffs will move around with you if you’re doing something active. Adjustable cuffs are a good but for something that you might throw on when it cools down a bit and your hands are already chilly this is ready to go the moment you put it on.

Montane Prism Jacket and Ultraboyruns

HELMET COMPATIBLE HOOD
Fully adjustable roll-away insulated climbing helmet-compatible hood with stiffened peak.
UB says: Montane are correct in saying this is a fully adjustable hood, I have tested it with my kayaking helmet and can confirm it is helmet compatible and the adjustability is excellent for both those foul days where you need your face protected but also those dog walking days where you just fancy keeping your ears warm and you’ve forgotten your Big Bobble Hat.

STUFFS INTO OWN RIGHT POCKET
Stuffs into the right-hand pocket with internal carabiner loop.
UB says: One of the things I love about the gilet was that it stuffed inside itself and was further compressible to make a very small little package indeed. The jacket is equally impressive in its self stuffing pocket and although it doesn’t compress down as far as the gilet (more fabric to stuff) it remains a very tight and compact unit. Additionally the overall weight (around 390g) of the jacket means that carrying it in your rucksack is no chore as it is neither heavy nor bulky unlike say my Montane Extreme Smock.

Montane Prism Jacket and Ultraboyruns

PERTEX® QUANTUM
30 Denier PERTEX® QUANTUM outer with Durable water repellency.
UB says: You assume they aren’t lying about the material it’s made from but the water repellency is rather good, yes eventually it’ll take a soaking but for the most part its good in a heavy shower or a lighter shower for a long time. I normally team my Prism with my Montane Neo Further Faster which is one of their heavier duty waterproofs and this provides an excellent layering of insultation and waterproofness from the Scottish mountain environments.

INSULATION
40g/m2 PrimaLoft® Silver 100% recycled insulation.
UB says: I use this jacket up mountains and while shopping, its got a versatility to it that other jackets simply don’t. The level of warmth isn’t so much that you can’t use on a chilly summer evening but it will also help protect you in the middle of winter. The level of insulation means that it works perfectly in a layering system – so a base layer and mid layer will easily fit beneath it and it can be combined with any number of layers over it such as a waterproof. I’ve never been cold in my Prism jacket and my Prism gilet saw me through multiple winters in the South East of England – I never wore a coat I would just chuck my gilet over my running gear and stand on freezing cold train platforms and never be bothered by a chill. The jacket does the same job just that bit more all encompassing.

RIP-STOP LINING
FEATHERLITE™ Mini Rip-stop 20D nylon lining.
UB says: Soft to the touch and durable – the Prism is made to last and the lining is lovely.

ARTICULATED ARMS
Articulated arms for high reach movement.
UB says: Does the Prism jacket ride up when you raise your arms? No. The freedom of movement provided by a jacket that retails for around £120 is fantastic. The articulated arms are perfect for giving you the ability to make the moves you want to without letting the cold air in from underneath.

YKK VISLON & ZIP
Full-length YKK VISLON® front zip with internal storm flap.
UB says: Two way zip only on alpine red? Meh, fine – it is certainly no deal breaker. The YKK zip is again worth the few extra grams and the storm flap keeps everything cosy, I’ve never had a problem with it and I doubt you will either.

Montane Prism Jacket and Ultraboyruns

MAP-SIZED HAND POCKETS
Two insulated map-sized hand pockets with YKK zips
UB says: I have dozens of Harvey and OS maps and I prefer not to use a map holder therefore having map sized pockets is actually quite important to me. The thing you can say about these pockets is that they provide an excellent roast- toasty location for your digits. Even when weighed down by gloves, technology or Mars Bars I find the pockets remain comfortable and don’t make me look too much like a man with a massive beer gut.

CONCLUSIONS
My experience with the Montane Prism jacket has been exceptional, I’ve already said that I use it both on mountains and also while shopping. It is comfortable, the new styling is fantastically attractive and it does exactly what it supposed to. Traversing the Ochils or climbing up mountains in Glencoe this jacket, in the short time it has been with me, has done it all and I feel like it will be around for a long time.

Can I find fault with the Montane Prism jacket after 6 months of ownership through the Scottish autumn and early winter? The easy to answer to this is, No. I usually like to find something I dislike about a product but it’s hard to find anything bad to say. Customer service from Montane is exceptional, colourways are excellent and the product performs as expected and beyond.

In harsh conditions I could easily use this for running, although obviously that is not its primary function, but on a harsh multi-day running event then this would be first to make my kit list. Overnight wild camping this jacket would be right at home and would be perfect for those nights you’re wanting to sit out under the stars before you retire to your bothy, tent or motorhome (yes I said motorhome).

Yes you could pay a lot more and get a jacket with features that you don’t need but why bother? The Montane Prism gives you so much for your money and perhaps that is why is one of my favourite pieces of kit, it offers exceptional value from a trusted brand. Of course there are excellent alternatives out there and Montane might not suit your frame or might not be to your aesthetic tastes but this Update is certainly worth considering if you need a new ‘catch-all’ jacket.

IMG_9582.PNG

  • Running poles making ascents and descents easier
  • GPS to making navigation a doddle
  • Compression kit to reduce muscle fatigue

What do all these things have in common? These are all aids many of us use to help complete long distance endurance events.

I use running poles when allowed, I almost always use a GPS device even if a map isn’t loaded on to it and before I realised compression kit was causing all sorts of injury problems I would often be found in ridiculously tight fitting attire.

There are two aid types though that I wonder about, the first I don’t use, the second I do (when I can convince the GingaNinja to rock up to a race registration).

Pacers and Crews: The aid I don’t use that I’m referring to are pacers and it was after seeing some amazing finishes at hundred milers and the like that got me wondering if using a pacer increases the likelihood of a finish and whether by using them are runners on a level playing field?

The other aid are crews – which I do, on occasion, use and I believe that in the early days of my ultra marathoning I really wouldn’t have gotten very far without a crew and the support they offer. But do they give me and others who use them an edge on race day?

Reading lots of recent race reports and talking to runners it’s clear that there is an appetite for the use of both pacers and crews but does it take away something of the challenge? Increasingly my view is becoming that yes, these things are taking away from something that, at its best, in my opinion, is a solo sport.

Perhaps if they’re going to be in play there should be greater scrutiny about how a crew and pacers can be used as I’ve witnessed some things during recent races that has made me wonder if too much crew access and too much pacing is creating an unfortunate imbalance in ultra marathons.

I met a Spanish runner at about 30 miles into an unsupported race recently and we ran together for maybe 12 miles. I enjoyed his company very much but the curious thing was that his crew met him at five different points along the route during the time we were together. Each time he would stop, chat, change kit, have a nibble, check his route, have a sit in the warm vehicle etc. It felt like the spirit of the race was not being adhered to and there were others too during this particular event that had cars literally following them down the roads – with family members joining in for a few miles as pacers – picking up food at McDonalds, etc. I’ve met people who’ve run past their homes or near enough to detour and been witness to them going indoors, changing wet or filthy kit, filling up food and then simply popping back on the route – all I should point out, within the rules of the race. I don’t begrudge this level of support – hell, if I could get it my DNF percentage wouldn’t be so high! However, though I’m far from a purist in running terms I do feel this takes some of the shine off the effort required.

The pacer question is very much a personal choice and are often subject to specific race rules but for me these are an aid that detract from one of the most important aspects of a race – the mental challenge. I could pluck an arbitrary percentage out of the air but I’d suggest that most endurance races are won and lost in the mind and not in the body. The pacer therefore can have a real, tangible effect on a racers performance and we are back to the point about imbalance.

All this said though I’ve been known to buddy up with runners on a route in order to ensure a finish although always with the agreement that if the pacing didn’t match we’d say goodbye and good journey. That changed a little bit when on the South Wales 50 when myself and two other runners joined up on the course then formalised our pacing/team running strategy to ensure that we all finished. It was perhaps this more than anything that got me wondering about just how much of a difference a pacer can make. Now to be fair Ryan, Pete and myself were all pretty ruined by the time we’d hooked up and it was as much about surviving the night as it was pacing but it gave me an insight to what a fresh pair of legs or a fresh attitude can do for a very tired ultra runner.

These days I’m much more a social ultra runner rather than a competitive one and I tend not to think too much about my position in the field, preferring to concentrate on taking in my surroundings and having a lovely time. However, this has got me wondering just how much better I might be if I had a team right next to me pushing me forward?

The purity argument: The reason I suppose I don’t do that and put together a team to get me through these things is simply because of my belief in the solo element. I probably would be a better runner if there was someone in my ear for the final 50 miles pushing me that little bit harder or if I had a crew with lots of kit ready and waiting. However, for me ultra running is being out there, facing myself and a trail and although I can very much respect other people’s decisions for using pacers and crews it’s less and less suited to me. Perhaps evidence of this was that the last time the GingaNinja crewed for me was the Thames Path 100 in 2015 – here she met me several times armed with chocolate milk, kit options and a regular stern talking to but since then she’s mainly been at starts and finishes if there at all and in truth I prefer this. Although it’s scary to think you’re on your own it really does heighten the elation (for me) upon completion.

All this said I’ll still be using poles (periodically) and GPS – I’m not giving those up anytime soon, I mean I’m not completely stupid! Therefore am I a hypocrite for suggesting pacers and crews detract from a level race but I’m perfectly content to gain an edge by using kit that some call ‘cheat sticks’ or by buddying up inside an event? I suppose it’s an individuals view and more importantly a race directors view and if you (or perhaps I) don’t like it well then I don’t have to sign up to that race.

And so… I’m curious about your views on pacers and crews, do you feel they offer you a better chance of finishing well? Do you think they give some runners an advantage that others don’t have? Would you consider them a hindrance? Or are they simply part of your ultra running armoury?

Three ultra marathons this year, all over 12hours, all rather wet, one freezing cold and all of them a challenge but not for me, they were a challenge for my primary support crew, the wife and the dog. She’s the designated driver – I don’t drive, she walks the hound while I run , giving him probably the most fun he’s had in a month but even a dog walk can’t last the whole length of me running. She carries my additional supplies, usually changes of clothing, spare socks, additional food and good cheer. She’s also my primary cameraman which I have to say I’m grateful for because over the last few years of racing she’s got some rather nice shots of me. She acts as support for the other runners as she waits at the checkpoints, often helping out the official runners, she’s a bit of a legend and I couldn’t do it without her, which is why I say my medals are often run for in her honour (and the dogs). But next year I’m running at least four ultra marathons, probably more likely seven or eight in an effort to ensure I get the UTMB points I so desperately crave and this leaves me with a problem – my friends aren’t really runners and they are spread out across the globe so asking them to crew for me is a bit of a no go and I’ve discovered that this is a problem for many of the ultra running fraternity. It seems to me that this is the greatest struggle of the ultra marathoner – that our nearest and dearest do get a bit bored of standing round at checkpoints waiting for us to turn up.

So what do we do? One solution, which is the one I will be adopting for at least my first couple of ultras next year is to run them completely solo. This offers a couple of unique experience challenges – I will have to carry all my own kit, there won’t be anything waiting for me at the mid point, it would just be me and the spare pair of Vibrams and 12litres of space in my Ultimate Directions vest. But then there is the alternative, ultra runners by their nature seem to gravitate towards one another and I know that at the very least a couple of my lovely twitter followers offered to support me on my aborted TG100 attempt and this gave me a thought – perhaps the Twitter community could be helping each other out? Now I don’t drive so I wouldn’t be much use in the driving round stakes but I would make a decent pacer for so someone doing a 100 miler to help them through those most difficult of stages. Plus this would be an excellent way for practice on some genuinely tough trails but also what fun knowing that you helped someone achieve their dream.

It seems to me that this makes for a way to give something back in addition to the volunteering element – something I also intend to get into over the next year or so.

So there we go twitter and wordpress I am offering myself out as crew, to help support one or more of my fellow runners, of course it’s subject to being available, free of injury and the like but then you racing is dependent on those factors too, but what needn’t be a factor is a lack of crew support. I hope more of the wonderful social media community will consider thinking about this too because as the song says ‘we get by with a little from our friends’.

really (not) a runner

rambling about my running journey

Robbie Roberts Wedding Pianist

Weddings | Civil Partnerships | Parties and Events | Corporate Receptions and Events e: robbie@robbie-roberts.com t: 07919924857

The Running Princess

Life is a marathon! Musings from a Scottish girl who loves running, yoga, reading, Paris, cats and wants to be a Disney Princess!

Movin' it with Michelle

Running, Recipes, and Real life adventures!

Adventures With My Shoes

Random write-ups of races and adventures

Trot Thoughts

What to do if you see a naked man, and other mildly helpful tips for runners.

Pyllon - ultra runner

Seeking asylum in the hills & transcendence on the trails

Empty

Empty

The Runtron Diaries

Running. Cake. Random.

Gabrielle Outdoors

Journeys of a varying kind

highlandrunnerblog.wordpress.com/

An introduction to ultra running

Running on Full

Random thoughts, used to be about running

Re-Activate

Rule 11: When the job's done, walk away

Bearded bimbler

A runner, a hiker and a bearded man

Inadvertent Mooning

Observations from the Grumpy side of UltraRunning

The Unprofessional Ultra Runner

My attempt to crack some serious challenges in an unserious manner

LifeAthlon

“Life Is An Endurance Event”

rara's rules for living

Swim, bike, run, fun!

An academic in (running) tights

Blogs on education and running: My two passions