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winter wipeout

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.

‘When we get back you can kick his right gonad in and I’ll kick his left one in’ … this was part of a conversation I had with fellow runner Sonya as we ascended the final climb of the Winter Wipeout from Cold Brew Events about one of the race organisers, Barry ‘Brilliantly Sadistic’ Kemp.

What a race; what an event! I do hate a half marathon but this was an absolute cracker.

But to fully understand why both Barry’s gonads deserved a bloody good whack with a large blunt instrument and why this was an absolute ‘must run race’ you really have to roll back about 6 hours or so.

In the car at about 4.45am I set off from a rather chilly Falkirk down towards Ingram and the race registration. All was going well, 90s dance music was playing loudly in the car, I was being mindful of both speed cameras and road conditions and I hadn’t eaten all the remains of the festive sweeties I had brought with me.

Life was good.

I’d successfully negotiated all but the last couple of miles of the journey when I felt the backend of the car flip out from behind me. Check 1, anything coming towards me? No. Check 2, anything behind me? No. Check 3, anything hard and wall like that I might be about to hit? A wall!

Thankfully I hadn’t been going too fast because it was clear this back road was rather icy and so I looked to the side of the car and simply moved with it allowing it to touch the grass verge that it was heading for and as it gently mounted it I tapped the accelerator around the tight corner.

What I can confirm was it was a brown trousers moment and I felt, had I been in dire need for a poo, then it is almost a certainty that I would have sprayed that brown goo all over the drivers seat.

For the remaining 1.9 miles of the journey I glued open my eyelids and gave it the obligatory 110% concentration arriving into the parking a little before 7am with very sweaty palms and a bladder ready to pop.

The parking was pretty quiet save for a few T5s and similar and I enjoyed the peace and quiet as I quickly slid out of driving clothes and into race clothes. As the minutes slowly rolled by I was sure that soon a massive influx of runners would arrive but by 7.30 it was still really quiet and so I wandered off to register.

Outside the cafe there was a gazebo with a very friendly chap and a young girl, probably not much older than my own daughter handing out race numbers. No razzmatazz – just hand your name in, get a number, pick up some pins – perfect. I was very impressed by the young lady handing out numbers, as it was pretty chilly at that time and she kept smiling even though I suspected she would much rather be inside.

I headed back to the car with the smell of bacon sandwiches on my nostrils from the cafe but I knew I’d soon return and this time armed with a few quid to turn the smell into the taste of bacon. Before I could get my wallet though one of my fellow competitors said, ‘don’t suppose you could help move my van could you? Got stuck in the mud when we arrived last night’.

‘Of course’ I replied and we took a side each while what I assumed was his wife attempted to reverse but despite rolling it and rolling it the van refused to budge and when the gent conceded defeat I wished them well and set off for coffee and bacon.

Coffee and Bacon were delicious and even better was an opportunity to speak to Barry Kemp, the man, the legend, the tormentor – it was nice to see him again – but I was sad not to see him in his tiny running shorts as he was the first time I met him at the start line of the Skye Trail Ultra in 2016. I think all Winter Wipeout competitors should be treated to a glimpse of a Barry in his shorts.

After a brief chat with Barry I sauntered back to the car to finish my coffee, finish getting ready and then sit back and watch the newly arrived throngs of runners.

Ah, kit watching time I thought to myself as I put the seat back and half closed my eyes.

Time though soon disappeared and I headed back to the registration area, queued for a wee and awaited the race briefing from Drew, who managed to joke about the councils role in the demise of the 2021 Cheviot Goat – something that, quite rightly, clearly was still chaffing his arse.

The race brief was clear, short but succinct, most of the people grouped at the starting line had done stuff like this before and knew what to expect but the Cold Brew Events crew made sure we were all aware of the way things would play out.

And then with as little fanfare as the registration we all set off into the Cheviots to face bogs, ice, wind and… sunshine?

I was in my usual place – at the back and was thoroughly enjoying myself as we all squeezed along the little path to the road. There was a very cosy atmosphere as runners began jockeying for position and to find their feet within the race. I like everyone else did my fair share of jockeying and manoeuvring around the ice and all the time I was taking in the beautiful scenery that surrounded me.

Amazingly I’d never really been here, certainly never as a runner and I couldn’t believe that I had been missing out on this untamed wilderness for all these years. After my disappointment at the views of the Peak District my love of the English outdoors was being restored by Northumberland. But this was only the start and I now fully expected to embrace the wilds even more as I raced along the route.

The tarmac that we were running on for the first little bit was soon replaced by trail and the Winter Wipeout looked like it was going to earn a big star as a genuine trail run. We were greeted at the turn to the trail by a marshal who pointed us onwards and upwards and I was pretty sure that there was a wicked smile on his face as he sent us to meet our fate in them there hills.

From here it was a steady climb across the hills and conditions were absolutely wonderful, it was cold, it was dry, the wind was nowhere to be seen and although there was ice it was reasonably runnable. In my head I wondered what all the horrific conditions warnings had been about and I continued to make steady progress.

Despite the hustle and bustle of the runners I felt a lovely tranquillity about running here and I had lots of time to soak it in as I slowly climbed the route.

The uphill was hard going and the impression given was of a chain gang or wagon train heading ever onwards and upwards – runners were strewn all over the place in a sweaty, heavy breathing messes. In the distance you could sometimes see a neon jacket or the reflective strip of a bag from a runner who was that bit further on and you wondered why just over a 1,000 metres of ascent was feeling so damned tough and what was it going to take to get you to the next bit of hill.

I was loving it and I spoke briefly to lots of the runners who were either going past me or I was going past – little conversations that made the whole experience very friendly indeed. Half marathons are my least favourite distance and I’ve long avoided them, returning only briefly last year at the boring as buggery, Tour of Tameside Heroes Half – but this was a completely different beast – this was magnificent.

I remember looking down at my watch at about the four and half kilometre point and thinking that, although challenging I was making decent time and I figured if my progress continued like this I’d be on my way back to Scotland by about midday. The route of course though had other ideas and suddenly the runners found themselves moving from gentle climbing to calf grinding, thigh burning uphill and with a increase in both the wind and the general chilliness of the day.

I rolled my sleeves down and covered up a bit as we passed the marshals and mountain rescue guys who were huddled behind a big rock watching us make our merry way up the icy trails.

There was more chat as we went on and I kept meeting people who had migrated from places I’d lived in to Northumberland and hearing their stories, albeit in brief, was a real delight.

Had opportunity arisen it would have been lovely to have chewed the fat properly with runners but you took every chance your body gave you on this course to run because the ice, as we got higher, was making progress slower.

It was on the first major climb that I ran out of puff and began stomping through the undergrowth to keep my feet beneath me, this was hard work as the undergrowth was cutting you to bits while simultaneously sapping all your energy away. I pushed as hard as I could but knowing that there was likely to be another even more difficult climb over this little peak.

Thankfully the path started to flatten out for a while and then rolled into a downhill, I knew that there was a risk that if I hurled myself down here that I might end up injured, covered in shit or dead but with the wind on my back I made my MTN Racer 2 do exactly what they were made for – go fast on the trails.

Boom!

I thundered down that hill until my lungs or arsehole where about to burst. I’d kept my feet beneath me and I wasn’t covered in shit – life was good. The little burst of pace though meant i meandered gently over to the fence line via the ice rink as the peak wasn’t going anywhere and I didn’t feel the need to rush.

I started up the final ascent before the turnaround and was greeted by the front runners – all of them foolishly hurling themselves down the course. I had no idea what these people where thinking, I knew that I would not be hurtling down this ‘slide of doom’, I’d be lazing back and strolling down the hill, much as I planned on strolling up it.

Conditions on the hill were considerably worse now and visibility was poor – lots of the runners were clearly grateful for the many layers that they were wearing. Although I had a full set of waterproofs and a proper thermal in my pack I decided to instead use a piece of kit, that although I’ve owned for nearly 6 years, I’ve never used – my Montane Fireball hat.

I’ve never used it because it makes me look like a prick and while I’m usually happy to look like a bit of dick this hat takes it to a new level, but here, near the summit of Hedgehope, I found myself dropping to my knees and putting on the hat. I also managed to get my waterproof overmitts on because these are perfect protection against the wind which ultimately is what was making my hands chilly.

Anyway with my kit updated I pressed on over the icy, boggy and now rocky ground. Runners were literally moving in all directions looking for safe passage through the route. Eventually, with the wind and conditions battering my body I saw the summit and two little beacons of red next to the trig point.

I felt so sorry for mountain rescue guys who were seated behind a little wall trying to escape the worst of the very chilly wind. I thanked them as I touched the trig point and then began my assault on the return.

Now I had intended to stroll back down but instead I did exactly what lots of the other runners did – I hit the turbo and started hurtling down from Hedgehope Hill with all the gusto I could summon into my legs. I took a mildly different route to most of the runners I had seen sliding down the ice earlier – I stepped into the undergrowth and just pulled my legs up, leaping across the landscape as fast as I could.

Two young ladies behind me would occasionally make some ground up on me and I advised them that they were going to have to work to overtake me and then I would put a little spurt on to put some distance between us. That back and forth would continue for quite some time yet and the two young ladies would easily, eventually overhaul me but having someone sat on your shoulder really does inspire you to perform a bit better.

As I completed the last of the icy uphills I stopped for a moment to just enjoy the lack of wind and the sunshine, removed my hat and gloves and then once more set off, noting that the young ladies were closing fast and the ice had departed in favour of becoming bog – so now it was time for my beloved Drymax socks to keep their reputation in tact. I dove feet first (thankfully) through every icy puddle on the route and battered down towards the rocky outcrop that housed the other pair of Mountain Rescue crew. I was mostly flying but I could also feel the exhaustion in my legs and as I passed and thanked the safety team and here I slowed down and allowed the two young ladies behind me to get ahead of me.

From here I continued to press on but my efforts had left me bereft of energy and there was still 142metres of climb apparently as well as a river crossing. I hoped that the river crossing was at the very end and that the remaining climb would be spread evenly across the remaining kilometres. Oddly the organisers must have been able to read my mind as they decided to do exactly the opposite of what I was hoping for and witnessed this first hand as I started down the final bit of trail and back to the road where the race had really gotten started.

In the distance I could see more marshals and mountain rescue types and so followed the arrows to join them at the river crossing. With much enthusiasm I exclaimed that this was the bit I was most looking forward to – albeit I hadn’t counted on that bloody big hill I’d have to climb afterwards.

And then with as much energy as I could manage I hurled myself into the water and then flailed about as the cold caught me – it was absolutely wonderful and upon getting to the other side I proceeded to jump back in the water snd splash about a bit more exclaiming that, ‘you really need to go nutsack deep to appreciate this’.

The young lady about to enter the water, Sonya as I would later discover, replied, ‘I don’t have a nutsack’. I hastily retreated from the water and began to climb, very slowly and very steadily. Had this been the tale of the Hare and the Tortoise then I was one of the lamest Tortoises ever to have raced but I was still moving. It was here that I was joined once more by the lovely and very friendly Sonya, she was the kind of runner that really perks you up and makes you feel like you’re the best runner in the race and I was grateful that she joined me.

We climbed the final hill together, both vocalising our displeasure with the very naughty Barry Kemp for making us do this final hill and we expressed this to the lovely marshal at the top who simply laughed at us.

From the top we could see Ingram and therefore the finish and so we both pushed what remained of our running and headed out, well until Sonya decided to take what looked like a heavy fall, but awesome runner that she clearly is, she dusted herself down and got right back up – impressive,

I’d have stayed down and waited for someone to carry me home!

We chatted a bit as we went and I hope we encouraged one another to keep going, I especially had a bit of a wobble as we entered Ingram but my running buddy put the metaphorical arm round my shoulder and told me I could do it – and she was right.

With the finish within touching distance I urged us onward to a bit of a sprint finish. It’s the one thing I always remember a man named Jimmy McKenna saying to me, ‘always finish well, no matter how the rest of the race went’ and so as we came to final few hundred metres I pumped my arms and thundered toward the finish but Sonya, who had been so instrumental in these last couple of kilometres, was not there and so I slowed, so we crossed the line together.

I’ve never been so happy to see a finish line but nor have I ever been so keen to go straight back out on the course again. It was absolutely wonderful.

Overview

  • Distance: Half Marathon
  • Ascent: 1000 metres (approx)
  • Date: January 2022
  • Location: Ingram, Northumberland
  • Cost: £33
  • Terrain: Icy, Boggy, Trail
  • Tough Rating: 3/5

Route
This was brilliant, it had just about everything, it was wet, it was muddy, it was winter, it was just the perfect bit of trail for some ridiculous winter fun running. I mean yes it was a bit brutal in places and the chap I saw running in road shoes must have had balls of steel to take this on in them but the only thing you really need to know about the route is that it will bring you joy, laughter and tears in equal measure.

Organisation
What can I say, other than the organisation was brilliant – from the parking, to the facilities, to the people who were there to ensure you had a safe and brilliant day out. This was an event with a lot of moving parts and Cold Brew Events made it run like clockwork. Great job guys.

Value for money
It’s not the cheapest half marathon I’ve ever run but it is the best value for money half marathon I’ve run and a great value packed event. I’ll be honest I’d hope they’re charging enough to ensure that they keep this brilliant event just as it is because I know I’d be happy to pay a little bit more for such a tremendous event.

Support
I’ve mentioned how sorry I felt for the guys at the top of Hedgehope – they must have been frozen but huge thanks to them. However, really it’s a huge thanks to every single person who was involved in making this happen, Cold Brew Events, the team at the cafe, the volunteers – including the young lady at number collection, each person really made this feel like a well loved and supported event. Of course there were also the ton of runners and runners friends and family who gave the whole event a really warm atmosphere – wonderful.

Awards
Great medal, nicely made mug, hot soup. Thank you very kindly that’s just grand.

So many races have got a bit puritanical about giving out medals and awards and I understand that not every runner wants or needs them and that races are attempting to become less wasteful and more environmentally friendly but some of us love a medal and a mug and I applaud Cold Brew Events for giving us great ones!

There is perhaps something to learn here – if you’re going to do a medal then do it properly, as Cold Brew Events have, and then, in my view, it’s not a waste – it’s race treasure.

My Race
I had such a great time, I didn’t come last, no fresh injuries and I came away from the race wanting to do it again. Yes I could have been fitter and carrying less festive fat and therefore run faster but I’m not sure I would have enjoyed it any more than I already do.

In terms of kit, my Topo Athletic MTN Racer 2 were the perfect shoe for the race but I carried too much kit in my pack and didn’t need my thermal layer or extra socks – what I didn’t carry too much of though was food and I found myself, just before the summit of Hedgehope, stuffing my face with about a dozen chocolate bars – something I’ll remember for when The Goat finally comes around. Waterproof over mitts were incredibly useful (much more useful than warm gloves I was carrying and remained unused) and I was very happy to finally use my Montane Fireball hat, albeit briefly. I will also once more praise my awesome Drymax socks, which when I discovered them about 7 years ago I wasn’t sure about but then really do keep your feet warm when wet and on a day like this that is very valuable.

Conclusions
I dream of running The Spine Challenger but until I’m ready for that then I’ll be coming back to this, year after year. The Winter Wipeout has restored my faith in the half marathon distance, but it has taken a very special event to do that and I’m not going to start signing up for lots of halves. This race has something for everyone that is excited by running trails and while it feels incredibly challenging it never feels so tough as to be unmanageable.

When you add in the amazing organisation, the wonderful support and a dreamy winters route then you’ve got magic.

Cold Brew Events know how to throw a trail party and I’ll be back for more of their filthy fun soon! I’d go so far as to say that the Winter Wipeout might have cracked my top 10 favourite races and is probably within touching distance of my top 5 – which isn’t bad when you consider I’ve run about 250 races. I really do recommend taking a crack at this, it was awesome.

The 2023 edition of the Winter Wipeout is open now and you can enter here or you can check out the other Cold Brew Events here.

Importantly, if you happen to see me there next year, looking like I’m dying on the route, don’t worry that’s just me having fun.

See you out there.

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