Question: What’s better than having a Monday off work?
Answer: Having a Monday off work to go canyoning with the truly awesome Scotland’s Canyons. For those who like spoilers this will be an unapologetically positive review of every last little bit of the experience and everyone should be having a go!
So let me roll back…
We are regular hikers in the beautiful and, in my opinion, vastly underrated Ochils and have often cited the beauty of this location as one of the main reasons we made the move to Scotland. Hiking the numerous glens of the Ochils has been one of the great joys of our time here and we often wondered if it would be possible to get amongst the waterfalls and the pools in a safe way and enjoy the drama and the majesty from another perspective.
Casually browsing… Totally by accident I was casually browsing the internet (not) looking around for some options to do the exploring of the waters of the Ochils and Scotland’s Canyons came up. Ooooo, interesting I thought.
Initially I inquired because I was looking for an adventure to take my daughter on and they have the ability to take younger adventurers. The guys explained how they work, what’s involved and how much a child of 7 could do – it all sounded brilliant. I emailed back and said there was no rush, however, I was keen to book for myself and my partner and once more the guys were just brilliantly helpful.
Now I love good service and I love people who are super knowledgable about the service they provide. Now the great news is that Scotland’s Canyons have top notch service and a boatload of knowledge – you really couldn’t ask for more. Anyway, we found a suitable date – we booked via their website through the excellent online system and from their communication was excellent.
Confirmation received and then a day or so before the event we received comprehensive emailed details about the day, where to go, what to expect and all the little details you need. The thing I really like about the emailed details was the clarity of the information – something that doesn’t always happen when you book something but Scotland’s Canyons really got this right.
And so to the day – we headed off to the grey and murky Ochils, the rain thundering down and both the GingaNinja and I looking at one another thinking this could be a cold, miserable one! But as we rolled into our destination things perked up a bit and by the time we were parked it was a lovely day for an adventure that was going to be filled with water and activity.
Our guide for the morning was Ruaridh – what an awesome name and what an awesome guy, he must be awesome because he has a beard. His professionalism and his friendliness were immediate and he took us through everything we needed to know. He pulled out all the kit we would need, more on that later and in no time at all we were kitted out, briefed and ready to roll. I was excited, probably too excited but bugger that it was adventure time. As we readied to leave we met a couple of hikers who immediately had questions for these neoprene clad adventurers and as anyone who has ever met me on the side of a hill will know – I love a bit of chatty chat.
I digress – let’s get to the action.
We ambled along the trail in our thick, warm wetsuits and I was grateful for the breeze, cooler weather and the ability to unzip the neoprene jacket because I was starting to work up a bit of a sweat. Thankfully this was a company that really gave good consideration to comfort – on any day, thick neoprene can get very toasty, very quickly but by having a jacket and armless wetsuit it meant we could vent heat as was required – perfect. And despite a few minutes of walking to the start, our feet were comfortable in the excellent Adidas Terrax canyoning specific boot.
Anyway after a few minutes we arrived at the waters ‘in’ point and Ruaridh gave us the some key information for a great yet safe adventure plus a bit of practice at some of the skills we would be using during the day. It was the abseiling skills I was most keen to get to grips with as I’ve never done it before and we went through this until both I and the GingaNinja felt confident that we understood the process. However, practice is one thing at the side of a glen but in reality it can be a little different and I had to hope my fear of heights didn’t come into play!
And then we were off – into the water, clambering over obstacles, negotiating our way over the smooth stones of the glen and admiring a place we know so well from a whole new perspective. The route of the water breaks you into the canyoning really nicely, at the top it’s reasonably tame where you can get a good sense of your environment, get a feel for being in the neoprene and also acclimatise yourself to the water. There were slides, jumps and other canyoning fun to be had and as we moved onwards the challenges became more interesting. Ruaridh explained everything clearly to ensure we maximised the potential of each challenge and he clearly knew the route in depth and this knowledge really shone through and benefits the people he is guiding.
The GingaNinja and I took slightly different approaches to canyoning – she was keen and nervous while I was keen and excited and the great thing was that Ruaridh helped us both to enjoy it. He was super encouraging to the GingaNinja when her face would say ‘I can’t do it’ but her words said, ‘I’m going to do this’ and with the support of Ruaridh the GingaNinja chose to do all but one of the jumps – testament to her willingness to challenge herself and to the brilliant guidance we we were getting.
It was then we reached the point in the course that can only be described as the jewel in the Dollar Glen crown – the waterfalls and our descent of them.
It starts out with a jump here and a slide there before becoming truly, truly epic with water cascading all around and a sense that you truly have reached Narnia or Atlantis or some other lost world. The GingaNinja was clipped in and given instruction on the best way to descend and then she set off making slow but steady progress through the water. I watched from above, surprisingly without being terrified about what I would shortly be doing. I saw the GingaNinja release the rope and give a smiling thumbs up and then I headed over to listen to the instructions.
As I stepped out I could feel how slippery the gorge walls were from the hundreds of litres per second of water that were passing through them. I steadied myself and then slowly entered the water, feeling the water cascading around and over my head and it was amazing. I lowered myself further and further to the ground and took shelter next to the GingaNinja – noting that the next abseil looked even more amazing. The GingaNinja and I exchanged terrified but happy glances and waited for our guide to join us.
It was decided that the water flow was a bit strong to go straight down the waterfall and so we headed a few feet to the side of the waterfall and abseiled down from there. I should have spent more time taking in my surrounds but instead it felt like I thundered down the descent. But I did have an absolute blast facing my fear of heights – what a way to face them!
At the bottom of the second waterfall we were afforded a bit of respite while ropes were collected and we took in the splendour of the waterfall and the size of the achievement in actually getting down it. We also took in our lack of core strength which if either of us had any would have been a bonus coming down the rope! That said we both absolutely loved it and were thrilled to continue sliding, abseiling and jumping our way to soggy fun.
Eventually we reached an easy ‘out’ location and Ruaridh asked how energy levels were and I gave an immediate thumbs up but the GingaNinja looked like her legs might be a bit wobbly. However, she too eventually gave the thumbs up and we continued further down the glen for another half an hour of liquid fun – bombing into crystal clear water pools, sliding down the smoothest of rocks and I even managed an impressive slow motion fall on flat ground and about 3 inches of water (what a numpty I am). Eventually though the adventure had to come to an end and we clambered out at a rocky viewing platform that I’d once stood at looking longingly into the water, wondering if it was possible to get in the canyon.
Seems I found my answer.
The hike back to the car park is uphill and when your body has just done the canyoning it can feel hard work but it gives a chance to chat, in our case mainly about our respective fruit and vegetable growing experiences, and once back at the car park we were offered a little snack to send us on our merry way. A delicious slice of the most moist cake I’ve ever had combined with a very fine cup of tea was the perfect way to end our adventure.
What a day.
Conclusions It’ll come as absolutely no surprise that I loved my time with Scotland’s Canyons. End to end of the experience, absolutely everything, was covered and it felt safe but super adventurous all at the same time. In all the adventures I’ve done over the years, from running the 74 miles of the Skye Trail Ultra to racing through the winter night in Lyon to snorkelling in the freezing cold waters of Iceland this one rates very, very highly.
I’d also like to say a massive thanks to Ruaridh for his excellent and regular photography during the day, it was much appreciated!
Who would enjoy this? There’s something here for almost everyone I think. Whether you enjoy exploring little nooks that few see or you’re a thrill seeker that wants to take adventure to the next level or you just love being in the outdoors and want to try something different then Scotland’s Canyons will be able to give you a great day out. I often describe living in Scotland as the ‘life fantastic’ and if you enjoy living the ‘life fantastic’ then you’ll love canyoning too.
And the best bit? For what you get it is tremendous value for money. It was absolutely cram packed with action for over 3 hours solid – Ruaridh really wrung all the adventure out of the glen for us and we appreciate that. The GingaNinja even commented that if she had come out of the water, that half an hour earlier, when her body was saying, ‘finish’ but her head was saying ‘continue’ she would still have felt like she’d had a great time and it would have been worth every penny. I always feel it’s the highest compliment I can pay to say that the thing I’ve ordered was both value for money and exceeded my expectations in every way.
Again? I suppose the true testament to my enjoyment is whether I would go back, well would I? Oh yes, we will be going again at some point in the future because we believe that no two adventures with Scotland’s Canyons would be the same and that’s super exciting. Plus we are definitely looking at taking our (near) 8 year old daughter to do their family version of canyoning – she’s excited and so are we.
And finally… As ever it is worth mentioning that this is an independent and impartial review and I paid for my canyoning – turns out that I’m just super happy with my adventure and I wanted to share it with you. Basically, if you’re considering your own adventure make sure to look up Scotland’s Canyons.
‘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.
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.
Distance: Half Marathon
Ascent: 1000 metres (approx)
Date: January 2022
Location: Ingram, Northumberland
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.
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?
This is a race that I have long wanted to run.
The organisers have pulled out all the stops to make sure the event goes ahead after storm Arwen.
Running and racing in winter is one of my favourite things to do.
I get to use all the new gear I have bought for this event.
I get out of going to my daughters piano recital.
I get to link up with the likes of the awesome Ian Braizer and Kate Allen.
It’s another opportunity to race.
My hip flexor and abductor are fucked.
After my foot injury in the Peak District two weeks ago I have not run since.
Covid and its variants are on the rise.
Storm Arwen damage may make it more challenging both on the day and logistically for all concerned.
I am navigationally challenged.
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.
Being fucked off by the White Peaks 50km has left me in a bit of a funk about running.
There is the fear of a Goat DNF.
I haven’t run an overnight race in about 3 years.
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
Ascent: 850 metres
Date: November 2021
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.
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.
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
I loved my GoPro Session, I still love my my GoPro Session, the tiny size combined a waterproof body and with really, rather good quality video meant it was the perfect companion to join me on races and document my journey. However, that was 2016, a lifetime ago in technology terms but I’m never that keen on upgrading for the sake of upgrading. I change my kit usually when the old stuff is coming to the end of its useful life.
But the GoPro still works perfectly. A quandary for me to ponder.
The Session though was starting to not do what I wanted and what I wanted was greater, faster, higher quality control. So I started looking at options but the reality is you are left with just a couple of genuine contenders as a replacement. The first is the GoPro Hero 8 (now the Hero 9 too) or the DJI Osmo Action, I opted for the DJI Osmo Actino.
I’m not going to be reviewing this from a technical perspective because there are already dozens of those kind of blogs and vlogs that you can look up. Instead I will be reviewing this from the perspective of an ultra runner/adventurer who uses the Osmo Action to tell my running stories.
Form So for those of you familiar with the GoPro Hero then you’ll be fairly familiar with the DJI Osmo Action. It’s about the same size as the GoPro and about the same weight. Anybody you meet will likely think you’re carrying a GoPro. Compared to my old Session it’s bigger and heavier but in its favour it’s not as wide so when I’m running it sits closer to my body and when teamed with a selfie stick or similar then you can arch the camera firm against your shoulder and you barely know it’s there.
Stability Image stability was a big issue with the Session, when running it would perform poorly in lower light conditions and even in good light conditions there were no guarantees that you’d be able to pull good photographic stills from video footage. (The photo mode simply isn’t fast enough for shooting running pictures). The Osmo deals with this via its image stabilisation process called ‘rocksteady’. But also in general the photographic technology has moved forward significantly and the DJI is superior than the camera it is replacing.
Rocksteady is awesome. It’s the perfect balance between getting footage that looks high energy and getting footage that is usable. I’m not a fan of gimbals as they make everything look so boring and static and therefore the camera needs to offer a decent level of image stabilisation. Remember that running is as much about moving up and down as it is about propelling yourself forward and the Osmo captures this without leaving you with blurry footage.
In the edit the footage that you are achieving is good for both stills and also for video. It means that whether you are taking 12mp photographs with your Osmo or you are grabbing HD stills from the video footage the output is remarkably good. It should be noted that I often only shoot at 1080p/30fps/Rocksteady because the footage I’m shooting is for things like YouTube & Instagram and therefore 4k video seems overkill.
Image stabilisation is available though in 4k/60fps which should pretty much cover most social video needs and beyond. Certainly if, like me, you’re buying this to record runs and races with then you’ll be more concerned about space on your Micro SD card than you will about super high density footage.
Flexibility The flexibility of the Osmo was the reason that it won out over the GoPro (Hero 8) for me with the big thing being the front facing screen which allows for easier set up of shots, especially those that are on the move. I was also impressed that it was super easy to switch between the two screens. This means that if I’m filming during an event I’m spending less and less time faffing about trying to get the perfect image for the blog post.
Front screen is impressive at 1.4 inches, just large enough to be usable and viewable and the 2.25inches of screen space you get on the rear is genuinely excellent with a ‘just sensitive’ enough touchscreen.
However, it isn’t just the dual screen that I find very useful there are a number of other features that make transitioning between running with a camera and putting it away much easier. The voice commands (which are a new feature to me) are super easy to use and even with my lovely Liverpudlian tones it picks up my commands very easily, that said it’s not so happy listening to my little Scottish 6 year old ordering it to ‘take photo’.
The various options for settings are expected but I’m often shooting at the widest possible angle because I’ll be looking to capture landscapes as well as the running and I’m grateful for auto orientation of the screen and therefore for the shooting because this often saves time later in the edit of footage. The Osmo simply gets that I’m not Martin Scorsese and wants to try and help me out.
Waterproof: The waterproof nature of the camera without the need for extra casing was a must, one of the reasons I avoided earlier action cameras was the need for a separate waterproof case which I felt made everything much too bulky and carrying that either mounted to yourself or in one of the valuable pockets of your race vest wasn’t practical over 50 or 100 miles.
I was dubious whether with the removable battery section and various moving parts of the Osmo whether it would truly be waterproof, however, I am very happy to report that the camera is waterproof. I’ve had the Osmo since about August and I’ve out it through some seriously watery adventures, often muddy ones, filthy canals, mudflats and often in icy lochs – never once has the Osmo given me a moments trouble.
DJI claim the camera is waterproof to 11 metres and -10 degrees, I’ve probably only had it down as far as say 3 metres but in freezing water and if I get down to 11 metres I’m probably drowning.
It has been the definition of an ‘action-ready’ camera whatever the situation it has found itself in.
Battery: One area of flexibility that has really impressed me was the ‘action pack’ I purchased as it came with three batteries (cases for each of them) and a few additional goodies.
Those (lightweight) extra battery packs mean that I can keep shooting footage through the whole of an event rather than say having to be concerned about how long my battery will last. It makes good sense that they would throw a couple of batteries into the pack because the battery does not last as long as the GoPro Session (Session has no screens) and you do want to ensure that you get your start line and finish line picture and everything in between. DJI claim that a battery can last over 2hrs and while this probably isn’t far short of the mark the chances are you going to to use the camera in a non-optimal way and therefore reduce its efficiency.
It is also worth noting that the battery change is relatively easy, although when fingers are cold or exhausted it could become a little bit fiddly but then I feel that trying to do anything with fine motor skills after 18hrs on the trail is a proper head fuck anyway.
Lens: Finally on the question of flexibility we have the removable and replaceable lens cover (with the option to add practical filters too). This means that should you damage the lens cover you can still have a fully functioning action camera, this was certainly a big bonus over the GoPro Hero 8 (the Hero 9 now has a replaceable lens cover). If like me you are prone to adventures that come with higher than average risk then having the option to replace the lens is important
Quality I was impressed by the Osmo, but that said it is a relatively expensive piece of kit and I would expect it to be made of materials that are both robust and feel nice. Running your finger over the buttons they have a lovely chunky feeling and the rounded edges feel like they’ll bounce back nicely from a fall or three. Perhaps thats exactly what you want from your action camera, the ability to throw it about and that when it lands it looks as good as the moment you took it out of the box.
Ease There are three parts to ease of use as a runner, the first is deployment of the camera for taking pictures – so form, the second is ease of use of the camera functions and thirdly the ease of se of the software.
Form, fit and ease of access The form I have mentioned, yes it is wider than the Session it is replacing but it is also less deep and because it is waterproof and needs no separate casing it sits comfortably next to the body. I have used this in several of the my race vests front pockets (including my Harrier Kinder, Raidlight Olmo 20 and Ultimate Direction Signature Series PB3) and each of them it has sat in such a way that I had no problem running.
Getting the camera out and putting it back in to my race vest is much easier than I ever imagined and actually is no more hassle than the Session ever was. There are obviously other ways of wearing this as a runner such as in a chest mounted harness of even a head mounted harness. What I will say is that the head mounted harness is hard work, its like having an uncomfortable head torch on and the chest mounting means that you can’t really use it with a race vest or bag (well I can’t), plus both the head and chest then have severe limitations to the angles and type of footage that can be achieved.
A shitty self stick or an expensive gimbal? Much of the fit also goes to the kind of selfie stick that you use with your action camera and I always team it with something nasty and cheap. Why? There are a number of reasons why I refuse to invest in a gimbal but the first is that the kind of adventures I go on often finds me facing giant turd sized perils. Those perils are the thing that make for the most exciting footage, the cost of this is that the selfie sticks often get broken, snapping is not unusual and they certainly don’t last given the beatings they take in all weathers. Gimbals tend to very expensive and therefore breaking them can become an expensive habit that gets costly quickly.
Gimbals also tend to be bulkier than the selfie stick, (though there are some very compact options in gimbals) and these can be something of a nuisance to carry during a race. One of the things I want is to be able to pull my camera out at a moments notice and if the gimbal or selfie stick is too big then getting it in and out can be complicated. Having a lightweight, compact selfie stick gives me the best balance of flexibility in terms of storage and also accessibility.
The final and perhaps most consistent reason that I choose the cheap selfie stick over the gimbal is because I feel that the gimbal creates really dull footage for runners. Now in some sports such as say skiing or water sports then having the gimbal to remove the worst excesses of bounce would be useful. However, in running terms you actually want some bounce, you want movement because that is the natural way of running – when running is done via a gimbal or drone from a POV then it removes all its energy. With good image stabilisation then I see no reason to use a gimbal at all.
And action… I’d been running for about 7 hours in the rain, my hands were 100% fucked and my body felt like a sponge it had soaked up so much water but I really wanted footage of me crossing the Tyne during Ultra North. I yanked out my Osmo, switched it on with the big fat square button on the top and then squeezed the equally big fat red dotted circle to record. A second later the little red light was flashing on the front to indicate recording. Once I had finished recording I pressed the circular button again and the the recording stopped and a minute later the screen auto shut down because it knew I had simply forgotten to power it down.
My head was pretty mashed in the later stages of the race and often is and I have been known to only shoot footage from the first half of an event because of it. However, during the maiden race for the Osmo I was happily able to use it from start to finish and this was down very much to the ease of the software and button setup of the camera.
It is true that I’d prepared my settings 1080p / 30fps / video but beyond that it was then simply a matter of pressing two buttons and to be fair the powering up step can be missed out if you’d rather just hit the circle button – it will then just record footage. I don’t mess with the touchscreen when I’m running because I figure this is a way to mess things up but changing recoding resolution, aspect ratio or frames per second on the move is easy enough to do should you really wish.
The footage stores itself sequentially on your SD card(s) and so this makes it easier to recall running or eventing for when I might be editing several days, weeks or months later. Its a damn fine user experience and this is extended, thankfully, to the software that comes with it for your smartphone.
And edit… I wanted a better camera to device experience than the GoPro Session when I upgraded. I mean the Session was mostly fine but a little bit cumbersome and the desktop editing software was a massive bag of wank, so DJI didn’t have much to improve upon. DJI MiMo (My Moment) is the software they offer and it is a huge leap forward in the way to handle and edit video. As a graphic designer I am used to using Adobe Premiere and After Effects for video work but this running footage needed to be editable in a quick fun way, not have all my time and effort devoted to crafting Hollywood style blockbusters. Therefore DJI MiMo from my iPhone offered quick connectivity to the camera, easy downloads and then a full suite of excellent editing tools to craft very social video files that have been doing the rounds of some of the Facebook groups and my IGTV feed in recent weeks.
MiMo is also the beneficiary of regular updates which makes the software more stable and more usable, and on the subject of software updates, the camera itself is the recipient of semi regular updates too and all of this takes place in the background ensuring that your camera is ready for adventuring when you are.
If you follow me at my blog here ultraboyruns.com or on my new Facebook page there are a variety of videos that I have been creating and I usually split the editing between iMovie and MiMo, not because one is better than the other but because they offer slightly different tonal outputs. MiMo is the superior of the software though and is incredibly easy to use.
I suppose there is the question of, ‘would i find it easy to use if I didn’t have a background in creative?’ Well the answer to that is I believe that while I perhaps have a small advantage in the edit process that this is something that anybody who knows how to use a smartphone would be able to do. DJI have made action video creation a real option for those who want it, though you might just be somebody that wants to take pictures with your action camera and that is fine too. If you are likely to be using your Osmo for shooting video and then grabbing stills from it there is no way (as far as I can tell) to grab a still within the MiMo environment, for grabbing video footage stills I tend to use Framegrabber which is an app available for both iOS and Android.
Footage & output Output is created in either .mov or .mp4 format. The footage is of a generally very high quality and can be captured at 4k/60fps with an excellent in-built microphone, though this can be upgraded by adding an external microphone. For the purposes of running I find the supplied mic more than sufficient and the lower end of the video spectrum will cover most needs. When casting 1080p footage I have edited to a 4k 55inch Samsung television the output has been very good – not quite movie quality but more than sufficent for showing to your nearest and dearest as they fall asleep watching your running movies.
Why? The question of why I bother shooting my running and editing the footage together for social media has come up more than once. The reason I take the action camera with me and share so much running related video content is because it combines to two things I enjoy most – creativity and running. I really don’t give two flying fucks if you watch it, don’t watch it, love it or hate it – I make this stuff for myself. However, if one person is inspired to get their running shoes on or go and get muddy on a trail somewhere then that is a bonus.
Conclusions I can’t judge whether the Osmo Action is better than the latest version of the GoPro Hero because I haven’t extensively tested the GoPro but I have extensively tested the DJI and I can tell you that the Osmo Action is an amazing action camera.
The combination of quality, ease of use, output and importantly price point make this a very real option for purchase. I paid less than £250 for the camera, three batteries, charger, cage and a pair of mounts (the app is a free download). To put this in perspective I paid nearly £200 for my GoPro Session which offered no additional power sources (sealed unit meant you couldn’t change the battery) but a couple of mounts and that was 5 years ago.
I love the ease of use of Osmo and have both increased and improved my adventure video and photographic output. If you are interested in action cameras and shooting your adventures then this is very much worth considering.
I’ve used my Osmo Action for all sorts of activity and although running is the primary thing that I capture footage of I have also regularly used it for open water swimming, mountain biking, sledging, paddle boarding, kayaking, fast hiking, roller skating, hill walking and even motor homing, the options are limitless. The question is in camera terms is how far will you go in search of adventure and do you want to record it?
Perhaps the key features that determined which action camera I was going to buy were the dual screens and the replaceable lens cover (both now available on the Hero 9, a product that wasn’t available when I bought the DJI and remains significantly more expensive than the Osmo Action). When you’re researching which one to buy you’ll see that the difference in footage quality, colour saturation, image stabilisation, warping, image correction, microphone, etc is nominal and so it really comes down to personal preference but it was the Osmo that made me part with my money.
It was about 5.30am, I’d had a lovely big mug of coffee whilst sitting upon the old porcelain throne and yet no matter how much I jiggled and wriggled – nothing would be released. So with much trepidation I rose from my perch and slapped on a handful of lubricant and squeezed it into every crevice before putting on my running kit – for today was Falkirk 8 hour Ultra day.
Surprisingly I’d been quite relaxed about the race as my week had been busy with a disaster situation over Scotland’s status in the European Union and Saturday had brought me the opportunity to go racing with my daughter and also join a pro-independence rally at Holyrood Park. So the reality is that the Falkirk Ultra came as something of a light hearted surprise to my week.
Let me roll back about three weeks to my status as a very unfit, very overweight, very slow runner who was about to attempt Tyndrum 24 (read about it here). While I had very much enjoyed the event I’d also been left feeling a bereft, missing my fitness and my turn of pace but mostly I was missing my ability to endure. I’d run less than 8hrs in good conditions and managed a paltry 30 miles in that time – Falkirk with forecasted cruddy conditions seemed to be headed to an even worse result.
Still with a coffee inside me and dressed for a race I drove the few short miles to the car parking and then grabbed my stuff with the aim to be at the registration tent nice and early. As I ambled through the park I wasn’t quite sure what would greet me outside Callendar House but I hadn’t imagined that an entire race village would be being constructed – yet here it was, being built before my very eyes.
There were dozens of little tents and shelters going up for groups of clubs and runners and suddenly I realised that there might not be anywhere for the solo entrant to dispense with their stuff, thankfully my fears were unfounded and the registration tent would become the excellent location for drop bags. But I’m getting ahead of myself, I dipped into an empty registration tent at about 6.45am and picked up my bits, including a goody bag. Now normally goody bags are rubbish and when you’ve entered a race that costs £30 you don’t expect much in the way of extras but this was different.
In the paper bag we were given a Tunnocks tea cake, some Brewdog beer but most importantly was a lovely lightweight hoody and a pretty cool buff. I’d requested one of the cowbells too and made an £8 purchase of the race woolly hat. I felt like I was fully loaded on merchandise.
For the next hour I ambled around making a nuisance of myself as runners I knew came in for registration and said hello and had lovely chats with them all. There were a couple of guys from the Tyndrum 24, some local runners that I’ve gotten to know over the past few months and even a few of the Linlithgow Running Buddies that I’d had run with a few times.
The Falkirk Ultra was turning into a bit of an ultra meetup and there is nothing wrong with that.
As light came the little race village that had been built the atmosphere began to grow and then the music started and the PA system kicked in – all systems started to ramp up and then we heard the announcement that we would be kicking off at 8.15am – so take your place behind the line and get ready to go. Here it was that I ran into Frances and Kieron from the Linlithgow Running Buddies – I felt compelled to complain about his wearing of ‘Shites’ (shorts and tights) but before we could get into the rights and wrongs of it we were off.
Now for those of us that are local we will have been well aware that Falkirk had recently enjoyed a healthy dose of rainfall and some snow too – this meant that the course was bound to boggy and with hundreds of runners passing through the route on multiple occasions the surface was going to be churned up extensively. The course itself had undergone some reconfiguration in the days leading up to the race due to the creation of a small temporary duck pond/lake just outside the main house – therefore what the next eight hours looked like were anyone’s guess.
For the first lap I went out pretty hard – I knew that the aim was to produce 1 lap per hour or thereabouts and if I could add in some contingency while my hip and back were in decent shape then I could slow down later without too much concern about finishing. I put myself in the middle of the pack and gently hunkered down to my race strategy, not keen to chat to anyone on the first lap – I barely acknowledged the wonderful volunteers and marshals that were at regular intervals on the course.
I ran to the first and only significant climb on the course and for the first lap made great strides up it, I was determined that I would run up this bugger at least once today and I managed that but no more (I promised myself, it hurt far too much) and it was a decision that a number of runners would make.
As I reached the top of the hill I could see ahead of me the ‘shit show of mud’ that awaited us – on a good day with fresh legs or being a good strong runner you’d eat this up but being neither strong or good I was going to struggle through this – and I did. I enjoyed this section of the course, it felt the most ‘trail’ and despite it being a little bit narrow because the mud was so churned up it was still a delight to see it on each and every lap.
In the early laps I could see runners both slow and fast avoiding the worst of the conditions trying to protect their feet but for me I was confident that my combination of Lone Peaks, Drymax socks and Injinji toe liners could easily go through the worst of it and still protect my rather sensitive tootsies. Infact in these early laps as others went around mud I chose to go straight through it and enjoyed it as it the spray attached itself to my legs. I do love it when you’re absolutely coated in mud before you’ve done your first mile and this reminded of running my beloved Vigo Tough Love 10.
As I came out of the mud and back onto the more traditional country park paths I found myself slowing down a little bit, this was harder packed and therefore less good for my old and knackered hips but still very runnable and much more to my tastes than the harder trails of Tyndrum 24. I bumbled along letting runners go past me and occasionally overtaking a runner and soon found myself heading downwards to more enthusiastic volunteers – possibly the most enthusiastic I saw all day, however, at this point I was still on a mission – how fast could I get round that first lap.
The lap from this point was still headed in a generally downward direction and it was still going through the more heavily wooded area of Callendar Park – this was rather enjoyable and I was confident that I knew were headed to the turn out of the woods before rejoining the park a bit further down and then along the tarmac back to the start.
Sadly I was only half right.
I was right about the downward curvature back into the park but in the distance I saw a procession of runners heading back to the tarmac via a rather dippy, slippy field and even at this early stage you could see runners pretending to be aeroplanes with arms aloft looking for balance.
I reached the turning back on to the grass and moved slowly down it – this was nasty already and I swiftly sought out a return to what looked like a path. I ran along down into the dip and then climbed back out with all the skill of man with no skill whatsoever. This climb down and the clamber up proved to be some of the most comical viewing during the day and would give you a little smile as you watched runners struggling with it and knowing that you’d shortly be the entertainment for some other poor unfortunate!
But it was soon over and we were back on flat, sensible tarmac… but that was not a good thing. I didn’t yet know it but this section of the route would be the real mental test, every looped race has one, the bit you really hate, the bit that makes you think you should pack it all in and for me it was where you hit the tarmac again until you were back at the checkpoint.
Thankfully the Falkirk 8 Hour Ultra had something of an ace up its sleeve and that was the four sets of checkpoint volunteers that saw you through this horrible chore and even on lap one I needed the inspirational words of these lovely people. Ambling alongside the lake for what felt like an age I looked enviously towards the other side of the water to witness runners completing their first lap or in some cases getting well into their second. It wasn’t until I made it to the other side of the lake that I wished I was back on the other side…
Before a single runner had set foot on the checkpoint side of the lake it was already a well churned bog – the runners weren’t going to improve that but it was going to make for an interesting battle between us and sliding feet first in the cold lake just a few feet below us. I crossed the thick oozy mud in good time and propelled myself forward in about 33 minutes but a toilet and food stop made it more like 39 minutes before I set off again.
My stop was probably the longest one I had during the whole event as I’d missed breakfast and wanted to make sure I ate regularly. I chowed down on some kinder chocolate, a couple of delicious Caramel Freddo and a chocolate milkshake before filling up my water with Active Root – damn fine stuff that is, probably stopped me crapping myself!
I soon returned to the drizzle and the course having removed my long sleeved layer in an attempt to stop me overheating. I am led out waving at those who gave a cheery hello or supportive wave and offered encouragement to those coming in – loops makes it easier to wish people well and you’ll sometimes remember those who, like myself, might benefit from a word or three of encouragement.
My second lap was nowhere near as energetic and the first section of the loop was getting muddier and more treacherous with every step, but this I was enjoying and the volunteers at the bottom of the slope seemed to be having fun with it too (well as much as you can have within health and safety guidelines of getting your runners safely through). I continued to stretch my legs until I reached the bottom of the hill and then my body told me that this was it, each loop was now going to be a case of hanging on and seeing if we could get to the magic 8 loops.
What happened next is a bit of a haze of names, hiking and sheer bloody mindedness. I met Ed a few times who was a lovely runner that was having a bit of a day of it – but actually going really rather well, there was Heather who had this awesome hat on that had a charm almost as big as it’s owner and then there was the lovely Susan who I ran a really brilliant lap with having a lovely chat with.
The ever amazing Neil passed me a couple of times – always with practical words of encouragement and Fiona 1 and Fiona 2 both gave me lovely supportive boosts as they too saw fit to pass by me. It wasn’t just people I’ve met before though – there was Julie from Strava that turned round in the registration queue to say hello and I ran into a couple of other runners who shouted out, ‘hey are you UltraBoy?’ To which I of course reply, ‘ sort of…’ and I was either known through this blog or Strava.
The Falkirk Ultra really was a running community event.
However, I did meet one runner that made me laugh every second I was with her and that was Tracy (without an e). I think we were both on lap 5 she was ready to call it a day over an injury concern and I should have been thinking the same thing as my hip and groin were ruined. But some days you meet a person who lifts your spirits enough that you forget about the trauma and you’re reminded that you’re actually going okay.
In the time we ran together I found new energy, I was a bit lighter on my feet and I forget about the previous laps and the tiredness of my legs. I did promise she’d make it into this blog and she makes it in not so much for how brilliant she was (although she was) she makes it in because she said, ‘my mums at the bridge, I’m getting a hug’.
Well that’s a red rag to a bull.
‘I’m getting a cuddle too. What’s your mums name? I’ll ask her does she remember me, dip in for the cuddle and then tell her it was a hot steamy night in ’83 – she had the white wine spritzer and I had the babysham’.
I have no idea what Tracy’s mum must have thought but I hope she understands that what happens at an ultra stays at an ultra (wink, wink – I joke).
Tracy (and mum) were awesome and I am pleased to say that both of us made it back out on another lap.
By lap 7though I was sore, really sore and although I was still well within my strategised time I was hoping the short loop would open soon so I could forget the long loop and I’d probably still reach 50km (a shorter loop opened up at 3pm to allow runners to continue running without forfeiting distance when the bell went for the finish at 4.15pm).
However, I finished lap 7 with about 90 minutes remaining – I felt the need to go and do the big loop one final time – despite having already said most of my thanks to amazing volunteers. It very much felt like the only sensible thing to do… well maybe not sensible but I was doing it anyway.
So steeled for one final battle I headed out and this time with nobody but myself and the clock to run against I found my second wind and started running up inclines, more fool me of course but I was making a much better fist of lap 8 than I had on a couple of the others.
I danced and twirled my way around the course – daring the mud to take me – daring it to cast me groundwards bit it never did. In truth, despite the conditions I remained sure footed throughout but never more so than now. I battled down the hill to a meeting with ‘The Badger’ (more on him later) and onwards toward the finish – there would be no short loops for me.
As I crossed the tarmac in the distance I could see my daughter waving feverishly toward me, and I to her. I picked up my feet and my pace to continue the illusion that her dad is the worlds greatest runner and as she called out I lifted her high into my arms in a display of muscular movement I did not consider possible.
I stopped for a few moments to talk to her but time was pressing and I wanted to make sure this lap counted and so I waved goodbye to my family, thanking the lovely marshal at the turning point and then I headed for home.
One final lurch across the mud and there I saw the finish and most other runners on the short lap – I didn’t want to limply cross that line – I wished to show my mettle and so with the GingaNinja and ASK at the finish I picked up my feet with 100metres to go and raised hell with a sprint that swerved between the short loop runners and crossed the line in a flurry of my own excitement.
I’d actually done it.
I’d made it.
Distance: 3.8mile loop (ish)
Ascent: Nothing hideous – just felt it (under 100 metres per lap)
Date: February 2020
Entrants: 350 (inc. relay runners)
Terrain: Muddy, undulating
Tough Rating: 2.5/5
What do you want from your route? A route that will be predictable or one that surprises you? The Falkirk 8 Hour Ultra has something for everyone to love and something to loathe. I loved it for the most part, the mud was challenging, the inclines & the declines were awesome and the tarmac that threaded it together was minimised.
Even with last minute changes to the route this still felt well prepared and overall you’d be silly not to fall in love with this. Obviously I’m a little biased as I live near Falkirk and run often in or around the park but this route took in some fun bits and even in the grey weather we had it’s still a lovely place to run.
The route was incredibly well marked and heavily marshalled but not in an intrusive way, you just felt secure in the knowledge that the race really did have your back.
My hope is that the route recovers quickly from so many runners racing around it so the event is welcomed back next year – this is a great place and a great place to have a route of this nature on. Scotland needs ultra marathons during the winter to support runners like myself and Falkirk will benefit from the goodwill of runners and a deepening reputation as a place where great events can be held (let us not mention Epic from the week before!)
I’ve been to a few races in my time and I’ve seen good and bad organisation but let me assure you that the organisation, preparation and selflessness of the organisers went so far above and beyond any expectations I had.
The organisers deserve a huge amount of credit for producing an event par excellence!
I was impressed by the race village that popped up (which the organisers might not be 100% responsible for but made sure it was sensibly located, etc), facilities such as toilets were excellent, parking was sensible given we, quite rightly, couldn’t use the main facilities at Callendar Park.
Even the organisation of the short loop, the updates for race timings seemed to be so effortless, it was a joy to behold – you, as the runner could simply get on with the business of dying out on the insanely fun course! Of course we all know that only a lot of hard work makes something like this look effortless, so my huge congratulations.
As a solo runner I was also mightily impressed about the way the big registration tent was cleared down and our bags were elevated off the ground to ensure that we had very easy access to our kit and I found myself very happily dipping in their briefly each lap and then coming back out onto the course to be welcomed by the race supporters – it was really nice.
Value for Money
I normally have to question just how good the value of an event is but I can be effusive in my praise that this is probably the best value race you’ll ever do – £30! Let me put this into perspective – that’s the same as coffee and a toasted sandwich at Starbucks for two – and this race gives you a lot more than any corporate monster will.
Compare this with say the Epic Falkirk race at Callendar Park a few days earlier and you can immediately see the difference.
The route was fun, the time and dedication of the people who put this together was clearly evident. The excellent thought that went into the items in the goody bag was really appreciated and then the bespoke medal – what a corker.
People of Falkirk, people of Scotland, people of the world – this is an amazingly good value event and while I would highly recommend it to all of you could you make sure that I get a place every year as this is my local ultra and I’m going to look forward to it year in, year out!
I promised I would get to ‘The Badger’ and here we are but first I want to say a huge thank you to every single one of the marshalling team, on a cold, wet day at the start of February you stood out and supported hundreds of runners that you probably didn’t know and you gave each and every one of love and encouragement from start to whatever our finish was.
I was particularly fortunate, I got to have cuddles with just about everyone, the lovely ladies who were at the bottom of the hill and gave me both cuddles and the odd kick up the arse. The cowbell ladies who must have had ringing ears by the end of the day and the poor young lady who lost her leopard skin print gloves – amazing. The dancing ladies, the downhill turning point marshals, the chaps as we ran back into the park – all of them had a cheery smile no matter how many times I told terrible jokes.
The guys on the tarmac – couple of lovely beards there (one ginger and one badger), these guys I looked forward to seeing each lap and got lots of big hugs from them. There is something wonderful about drawing big chaps into a cuddle with a fool like me – plus it gives you a lift and hopefully it reminds them just how much they are appreciated.
I’d also like to say thanks to the great ladies who were at the two bridges who accepted my flirtatious charm with all the humour it was intended with.
And then the couple of guys at the run back to the checkpoint, one to advise us to get closer to the water as the ground grew ever more treacherous and one to bang his piece of metal with a drum stick – I may on lap 7 have suggested that I knew were he could put that drumstick… you can guess the rest.
If I missed anyone out, believe me you aren’t forgotten – every marshal and member of the team contributed a massive amount to its success and I am confident all the runners would bow down before your dedication and tenacity. Brilliant, just brilliant.
Lovely hoody, lovely buff, Tunnocks teacake and an awesome bespoke medal. Do I need to say anymore? Brilliant
This looped race jumps to the top of the list of my favourite looped races and just a favourite race in general – toppling the Brutal Enduro for loops and I am sure my enthusiasm for this race will live long. If you have never attempted the Falkirk 8 Hour Ultra then you should consider it, if you aren’t an ultra runner then get involved in the relay as that looked incredibly competitive and you could have all the fun without the pain.
As for me, well I had a lot of fun but my hips will pay the price for that fun – they started to feel pretty crappy at about the 25km mark, this though is a significant improvement on the 5 miles they managed at Tyndrum 24. The important thing for me was that I am starting to improve – it’s true I’m still a shit runner but a shit runner that is getting mildly fitter and with that I’ll hope to improve pace and distance.
I went into the Falkirk Ultra with no expectations but hopes that I would make this my 53rd ultra finish and I managed that – it might have been at the bottom end of the ultra distances but after a rubbish 2019 of running I’m pleased with the way this weekend went. I can now go to the F50K with a bit more confidence (just need to learn to navigate).
Ultimately what can I say other than this was stunning and I hope to see you all next year for a few extra laps.
In a recent Instagram post I had the caption, ‘how much kit did I take to Tyndrum 24? Yep way too much – I ended up using a tiny aount. This doesn’t even include the 10 pairs of shoes or the food either. How the hell did I think I was using all this stuff?‘ The holders of the race account replied and during the discourse I described myself as a ‘shit runner‘ to which I was told that ‘no one at the Tyndrum 24 was shit!’
Well, we are all entitled to our opinion, but experience tells me I’m a shit runner. Which brings me to this weekend where I was flying solo as the GingaNinja and Satan (ASK) were visiting Evil England and I felt like I should do something to boost my confidence after the kicking it has had recently. I dipped out Saturday and took a run around the Falkirk Ultra route and I had intended to use my Sunday for a longer hike up a hill or mountain somewhere nearby – however, I saw an opportunity come up.
There was a social media video for a race that I had dismissed a few weeks earlier – The Scurry Events Vogrie Country Park 5km – it looked muddy, it looked hilly and it looked miserable, just my kind of race. I had dismissed the race given that it was only a week after I’d been so rubbish at Tyndrum 24 and just a week before I take on the Falkirk Ultra but with just a couple of spaces available it seemed one of them was destined for me.
I signed up yesterday evening after arguing with myself for a couple of hours and decided that I should sign up for the shorter of the available distances (5km & 10km). I decided I’d take the hound with me and we’d make a bit of a day of it, do the race, have a walk around afterwards.
I woke up about 6.30am, had a quick shower, my pre-race coffee and headed out early, I figured I’d need to give the dog a bit of a walk before the race started and so at 7.45 jumped in the car and drifted down from Falkirk all the way to the beautiful and undulating Vogrie Country Park. Having previously run one of the Scurry Events races I expected that there wold be a strong organisational showing and I wasn’t disappointed as when I arrived at the gates of the park there was immediately a marshal to point me in the direction of the parking, there was then a marshal to point in the direction of the toilets and the route to Vogrie House and the registration point. Thankfully I was early enough to give the dog the required few minutes walk before I went to collect my number.
Scurry had set up three tents in the grounds of the country park near the main house and there were a collection of marshals handing out the numbers and offering a comforting smile, had they seen the course? Did they know what we silly few had decided to do with our Sunday morning? Ha. Anyway with number collected I trundled uphill back to the car to have a bit of sit down and avoid what looked like rain, nobody likes starting a race when they’re moist.
About 9.15am with no sign of the rain that felt so inevitable I headed back to the start line and saw something that was inevitable – there was Neil MacRitchie. Now the man might be an ultra running god but does he have to be brilliant at every race that I attend? (I joke) Neil is a wonderful guy though, generous with both his time and his support, which is why he is so well regarded by the Scottish running community. To me he is simply inspirational and whenever I see him at a race start I feel like I want to try that little bit harder because there is a way he looks at you that just says, ‘I believe in you’.
The question was could I return the faith – I’d find out in about an hour.
Neil and I chewed the fat for a bit and then it was warm up time for the 10km runners of which Neil was a part. I left it to him so I could enjoy watching the warm up – not something I’d be getting involved in, I like to start racing when I’m still cold – no reason to overexert myself.
Anyway with the 10km runners off the much smaller field of 5km runners moved to the start line, it was now that I worried that I might be coming last in the race – there were a number of fast looking racing snakes and as I stood at the back I thought, ‘bugger I’m going to have to give this a bit of welly’ and when the gun went off I was still considering this at the back of the field.
In an unusual change of race strategy I moved as far up the field as possible and settled into a heavy breathing but manageable pace – it was now just a case of seeing how far I could hang on for. The course was a heady mix of fast moving downhills and challenging lumps to negotiate but the early part of the course was fun as it weaved through the winter trail. I was enjoying myself very much and the course was surprisingly scenic despite the time of year, the weather was also holding out and I felt like I was running rather better than is traditional for me.
The first kilometre was down and with the second one well underway I could begin to see the signs of the back of the 10km runners in the distance – it was something I had not really considered but it was entirely possible that I might make up the five or six minutes that the longer race had started before us. While it’s true I wasn’t going to catch any of the speed goats I might catch some of the back markers and this could be an interesting challenge. This challenge that I had set myself was giving me a mental lift and I started to shift harder and faster. As I hit the river it was my absolute favourite kind of semi-boggy trail and I found myself bounding across the trail – that’s the thing about short distance running – you can hammer it and you know it’ll soon be over. Vogrie Park and the Tyne Valley 5km was a beautiful course and I was really, really enjoying it but there is always going to be a sting in the tail. The particular sting was that there was going to be some horrid ascent to endure in order to bring us back round to the checkpoint.
I’ll be honest my exertions had rather wiped me out and so I, like the runners ahead of me, slowly meandered up the hills to the point we felt we could begin running again. Interestingly, we it is to me, given I knew I was in the final kilometre I chose to push a little earlier than usual off the hill and found myself thundering those final few hundred metres and when I heard my name being called over the PA system I could feel pride in my performance today – something that I very rarely say these days, regardless of the distance.
I crossed the line to the sounds of the small gathering of supporters, volunteers and fellow finishers and quickly collected my race memento buff. I was very glad it was over but I had thoroughly enjoyed the experience and was pleased to have signed up.
Conclusions Last year I ran the Scurry Around Corstorphine which I found to be a very enjoyable event despite the weather conditions. I’d never been there before and I got to see another little piece of my new home country – the same is true of this event and I will certainly be inspired to visit Vogrie Park again.
The Scurry Event at Vogrie Park had all the best bits of Corstorphine but a better route – more genuine trail running and really, really fun up and downs. It is clear to me that the Scurry Event guys know how to put on a great event and we can only hope that they consider adding much longer distances to their repertoire before long.
Thanks also for the on course photography – the image they snapped me of me is above, it’s the one that I couldn’t possibly have taken of myself.
An area of improvement/change? The one small thing that stops me signing up for lots of their races though is the lack of a medal – Scurry have a little logo that would do nicely on a medal and they have enough races to merit making one. I know not everyone likes getting a medal but I do and I know others do. I like to look back at medals and remember the moment that someone put it round my neck or be reminded of how hard I worked to get it or use it to inspire my daughter in her own races.
The neck gaiter/buff was great BUT I already own 47 of them and there is a very good chance that it’ll be used to wipe my arse on an ultra in the future – therefore I’ll certainly have conflicting memories about it. Hell I’d even pay a couple of extra pounds to secure a medal – just something to think about Scurry as this was one of the reasons I nearly didn’t enter.
However, despite the lack of medal this is a great event at whatever distance, it is family friendly and it is a lot of fun. Have a look at them on Facebook and consider entering one of their future, excellent events.
As for me? Well, I’m still a shit runner but the groin and hip that exploded last weekend, at the Tyndrum 24, held up here today and under the pressure of going a bit faster than I normally do and that’s all I can ask for.
I’m looking forward to giving the Falkirk 8hr my full attention but today has been a good running day and I’m a happy bunny.
In times of turmoil we seek summits and points of vantage to gain clarity of vision.
When I was younger I would go to the Lake District to climb a hill and breathe clean air and give myself greater clarity. Given I didn’t drive (or ride a bike) I would often find myself in places you could reach by public transport and so Ambleside was a popular choice for a young man with a busy mind.
Roll forward a decade or two and my mind remains busy but I’ve added both a driving licence and an ability to ride a bike and so when I saw the inaugural Ambleside Trail 60 on the ultra event calendar I decided that this was for me.
The race was being organised in conjunction between the long established The Climbers Shop (find out more here) in Ambleside and charity The Brathay Trust (find out more here) – both well respected pillars of the community.
I therefore had high expectations for the event.
When looking at the Ambleside Trail 60 on paper you’d be forgiven for thinking that it’s rather easy and with a tad under 2,500metres of climb it all seemed perfectly respectable. The problem comes is that when deciding to do this I had conflated the shortness of the distance and relatively low ascent numbers to think this was going to be easy. How wrong can you be?
But anyway let me add a bit of context to proceedings – I’d had an excellent July, training had gone well and I’d come off the Ben Vorlich Ultra feeling pretty good and without injury. The truth is I’d felt so good that I’d returned to training the following day and was looking forwarding to maintaining my running mental strength by taking part in the Thieves Road Ultra. In typical fashion though disaster struck and I took a nasty tumble running up a hill and put a bloody big hole in my knee and this was supplemented by a shitty infection that I couldn’t shift. However, with August 10th approaching I knew that momentum was on my side and I’d be okay(ish) to race but it seemed my August ultra curse was set to continue and the race was cancelled due to the potential for adverse conditions.
What happened next was that race was reorganised for two weeks later, my illness got worse and on race day I spent about 8hrs on the porcelain throne. This time it was me cancelling the race and so I rolled up to the Ambleside 60 with very little training but a lot of chocolate eating done.
As I’ve said I’m a huge fan of The Lake District and Cumbria, it’s a truly spectacular place and so I was very happy to be there on a beautiful morning watching the world go by.
Strangely for an ultra it was taking place on a Sunday which meant I’d had the luxury of bimbling around the Lakes the day previously taking in the delights of Ambleside and registering with the event organisers at The Climbers Shop. Registration was both quick and easy and the lovely organisers were on hand to answer all of my ridiculous questions. I was also mightily impressed that race sponsor Rab (I assume) threw in a warm beanie which is likely to make its race debut later in the year. It was here that I bumped into Ed, a fellow competitor from Ben Vorlich and it was lovely to ‘chew the fat’ with him for a few minutes and catch up about what had happened at the race end. However, we soon parted and I found myself at a loose end but with lots of wonderful outdoor stores strewn across the town – I decide me to make hay while the sun shone. Lunch was a delicious spicy chicken baguette with a slab of honeycomb cake and this was followed by short trips to Kendal and Keswick to make the most of my stay.
I had the luxury of having a six berth dorm room all to myself at the waterside YHA in Ambleside and I went to bed early to try and get as rested as possible. Kit was prepared, breakfast readied and I knew where I was going in the morning.
The organisers had suggested the pay & display car park in Ambleside, which given it was a few minutes from the start, made good sense. With water bottles now filled I headed to the start in Rothay Park and silently soaked up the friendly, banter atmosphere. I’ve grown rather accustomed to knowing runners at races, wherever I am, both here and abroad – so it was something of a surprise to not see any faces I knew. I wandered around a little bit before setting amongst the throng of ultra runners all keen for the start.
We were all instructed to dib our chips at the start which had been attached to us at registration. I found these mildly intrusive as they never felt very comfortable around the wrist and I fretted about them working loose and ending up in a puddle of mud somewhere on a hill. Thankfully it never did work loose but I found it uncomfortable compared to some of the alternatives that I’ve had to wear. That said the system was simple enough to use and the setup both at the start and at checkpoints was well thought out.
With an 8am start looming we were all corralled into the starting area and after a short briefing and some words of encouragement the 175(ish) runners burst forward and out of Rothay Park and into the wilderness. It’s fair to say that a number of ‘trail’ races that I’ve been part of have actually had quite significant amounts of road or tarmac involved but this experience was very different. From the near outset there was trail and nature surrounding the runners.
As we wound our way through the first few kilometres it was clear that this was going to be s tougher day than I had originally imagined and as I looked down at my faithful Suunto I could see the elevation metres quickly stacking up. Those first few miles were easily the simplest on the route and with excellent route marking even I couldn’t go wrong. We wended our way through the variety of trails, up and down hills and along some of England’s finest scenery. For the most part I was making good time against the other runners – using my preferred tactic of ‘go as fast as you cN for as long as you can and then death march it in’. I made sure I was taking on board regular fluids and even a little food from early in proceedings as this would ensure I could still take on everything late in the event. I topped up my intake with some Active Root, which is about the only electrolyte style supplement I can stomach, and this kept me level and stopped significant dips – something to consider if you’re running well.
I ran the first 15km pretty consistently and covered around 600 metres of climb – despite the recent rains the ground was in good condition and the route was runnable. Although I had poles with me I had decided that I would refrain from their use until I really needed them and despite the ascents I didn’t feel I needed them in the firs quarter of the event. The views were delightful and this was very much The Lake District of my youth – some places dragged up long forgotten memories and it was a very pleasant experience. It was here that I met Deborah – about 2.5 miles from the first checkpoint. We chatted for a while, as we bounded forward and this was such a pleasant experience that I barely noticed the run into the checkpoint.
Checkpoint one was brilliant with the marshalling team all dressed as chefs with big chef hats, the team were incredibly well drilled – timer, water, food, out, out, out! I was very impressed with the team and the organisation of the event on the whole, if I were to take a guess this was not their first rodeo. The quality of the food on offer was brilliant and as I left the checkpoint I felt buoyed by the energy the team have thrust upon me. In the distance I could see Deborah disappearing and continued my journey alone.
The second section was going to be tougher with the first 600 metres climbed this meant that there was still around 1700 metres to climb and around a marathon to do it in. 2 hours down – 12 hours to go. I knew that the first significant climb was soon to be upon us and in the distance twinkling like little neon and Lycra clad stars were a succession of slow moving runners as the route moved up a gear in toughness.
It was now that the route threw challenge after challenge at us, the trail had moved from being mostly runnable to being filled with big lumpy rocks, it was wet underfoot and it changed from soaking to dry making your shoe choice irrelevant in the face of the varying conditions. I threw open my poles for the first time and began the slow journey upwards, happy in the knowledge that I had built up a reserve of time in the early stages of the race. However, as I looked ever upwards it was with a deep sense of foreboding – this was the first and easiest ascent and it was far from easy.
I decided that given I still had some strength in my legs I would do the climb in bursts and so would have a short stop and then powered up the next couple of hundred metres, stop and repeat. This technique helps me with the fatigue my legs get from the constant ball achingly monotonous striding of hiking up the hills (something I knew I would be forced into later in the day). My lack of training in the last month and the over eating was also playing a significant part now in my performance – runners were passing me as I struggled with the up hills and the beating my feet were now taking. However, I knew that on the downhill as long as the path was relatively runnable I would be able to make up some ground. Where some runners are guarded about running downhill too quickly for fear of a fall I am usually pretty surefooted and confident in my own ability. Therefore once the peak was reached I felt that I had little choice but to open up the taps a bit and go for it.
My descent was as quick as my ascent was slow and I found myself able to catch some of the runners that had managed to overtake me and I felt with nearly 1,000 metres of ascent done and about 20km in distance done I was feeling confident and then the ridiculous kicked in – I slipped. Bang down – on my back, on my arse, on all my weakest points. The two young runners ahead of me turned and shouted to find out if I was okay and I waved them on but I was far from alright. My back, which is troubling at the best of times, had shooting pain running through it and I had cut my hand open in several places and was bleeding. I picked my muddy form off the floor and cursed my own stupidity – I ran down to the little stream and put my buff in the water and wrapped it around my hand attempting to soak up the blood. I had been very lucky, within a few minutes the bleeding had stopped and I managed to clean up the various gashes that now covered my left hand – the realisation was dawning upon me that this route was going to give me a good kicking before it was finished.
I pushed onwards through the next few kilometres, slowing a little to account for the worsening running conditions, the rocky terrain became incredibly hard going and in my opinion it felt more like fell running than it did ultra trail running but it all added to the complexity of the challenge of finishing. I finally reached the halfway point and was greeted by the most welcoming committee of marshals, supporters and runners. Given I was so far from the lead it was no surprise to see my fellow racers in various states of distress, I grabbed a bit of grass and threw my bag to floor and motored over to the food table and stuffed my face with the delicious sausage rolls with the amazing pastry (I’m going to assume veggie but don’t want to know as they were so delicious it would disappoint me to know I’d been eating something mildly healthy). I drank as much tea as I could handle, grabbed a bit of soft chewy cake, filled my water bottles and then followed the other runners out of the checkpoint.
It was here that I would make the relationship that would see me cross the finish line, though it did not begin well but I’ll get to that later.
From CP2 we were presented with a climb up Stake Pass, a beautiful climb and no mistake but a technical, rocky ascent that required maximum concentration all the way and its windy nature meant that you felt progress was even slower than it actually was. I used my brutish bursts of power to push myself up the pass and once more in the distance before and ahead of me I could see the swathes of runners slowly climbing to the summit. I kept telling myself that this is something I enjoy when moments of doubt would creep into my thinking but the reality was that my feet were burning from the damage that rocks underfoot where doing.
My feet are brittle at the best of times but the damp conditions coupled with the rocks were crippling me, the only plus I could find was that my Lone Peaks combined with Injinji liner and Drymax socks and my beloved Dirty Girls Gaiters were working overtime in protecting me from the worst of the route.
About halfway up local legend Keith passed me with his wonderfully consistent pace and all I could do when he went beyond me asking, ‘alright?’ I responded with, ‘had better days’ but Keith may have misinterpreted my joke for sincere annoyance and he simply shrugged his shoulder and pushed on. I thought nothing more of it really but like the cut of his pace and thought if I could keep up with him I might well be alright – but he, like many before, was soon gone.
I retreated the comfort of the nearest rock I could find and grabbed some food from my race vest and looked longingly into the middle distance as dark and detrimental thoughts crept across my furrowed brow. ‘More than halfway’ I thought, ‘but my feet are bruised to buggery, my race vest is heavy and worse than that my back and arm was on fire from injuries both old and new’. However, the sight of runners closing in on me made me get off my backside and hurl myself up the hill and eventually I made it to the summit. I could see some of the runners who had made it past me and so I picked Keith as my target – if I could catch him before the arrival of the next checkpoint I would continue.
The route off the pass was as unrunnable as the route up with rocks jutting up from every angle and care required about just where the hell you were putting your feet. If you were less cautious you might have avoided the path and run straight down the hill – but given I had no idea where I was or how far behind the next runner was – I did not fancy falling off Stake Pass. With all due care I made it to the bottom and leapt through the thick nasty smelling mud and crossing streams with all haste attempting to keep my feet as dry as possible. In the distance I could hear the clatter of Keith’s running poles and I realised I was catching him – having a target to aim for had made the journey much more focused and much easier and as I caught him I opened with the much cheerier line, ‘I’ve been chasing you down for ages – thanks for the incentive’ and from here a new race friendship was forged.
Keith was a bit of a running veteran and with 20 more years on the clock the than me he had well earned the right to legend status. He strode purposefully through the route, questioning the runability of some of the course but all the time remaining strong in his continuous push forward – I like Keith very much and over the next few miles we got to chatting and getting to know one another a little. But as is the rule in ultra marathons you run your own race and he reminded me of this several times as he suggested I not wait for him or that he would be waiting long for me. However, we were both moving at about the same speed ad so it turned out neither of us could shake the other one.
Something I was very glad of.
The road to CP3 was hard and long, we had come off the hill and now it was just finding the checkpoint, hoping that we would make the cut-off and then pushing through as fast as we could up the biggest ascent on the course – Lining Crag. While we both looked and probably felt a bit shitty we both also seemed to gain a newfound mental strength from each other – I certainly did from him and when I started to leave CP3 Keith joined me for some further adventuring.
The strange thing was that despite our low speed we were starting to catch people again and in the close distance we could see runners who had long left me behind and, though I shouldn’t, I was buoyed by seeing other runners finding this a challenge or perhaps I was simply developing a second wind that might carry over the Crag.
Sadly my second wind was very short lived and as I began the ascent I felt every bone in my body scream for mercy, even with the first few hundred metres being relatively gentle this was a climb of false summits and false hope.
One of the great things about Keith was his wide and varied local knowledge, this meant that he was able to be accurate in his assessment of our situation, so when we approached the scramble up to the crag I knew that this was not the summit and that there were further smaller climbs to come. The scramble was actually surprisingly simple and the change of pace on the legs was welcome, I enjoy scrambling although I don’t do it very often as I am terrified of heights. So I finally reached the safety of solid ground that wasn’t going to try and kill me I was very grateful. We made good time as we crossed the high ground and started to overtake people again and other runners came past us as they picked the pace up a little. On reflection it was nice to know that we were still in a race, often at these type of events you’ll find yourself alone for hours and hours and not knowing where in the race you are, here the numbers were just right to be able to have significant time alone but also know that you could still catch someone.
We knew that the final checkpoint was at about 53km in and so it was with a little dismay that the ascent to the top of the crag had pushed us forward a mere 2km of the 12km we needed to run. Running remained hard going over the rocky paths and went as fast and securely as we could but both Keith and I were losing our footing at regular intervals and many of the runners had soggy bottoms but perhaps none got the soggy bottom in the way I did.
While crossing a boggy path I lost my footing and into the mid thigh depth mud my leg went, the trouble was that my other leg followed me in and as I fell in my whole body lurched backward in some attempt to create the muddy equivalent of a snow fairy. Keith turned to face me, barely disguising his amusement at the predicament that I found myself in. I managed to stand in the mud and could feel the vacuum attempting to suck my shoes in but I carefully extracted one leg and then the other with no significant loss. I was caked in mud from head to toe but I had clearly picked the right kit for the event and my wonderful new Runderwear long boxer shorts and Raidlight Freetrail shorts soon dried off and despite being in 3 foot of wet, shitty mud my feet remained warm and toasty.
After picking myself up we headed along the remainder of the route down to Grasmere with little further incident, but we were aware that the final climb and descent had taken much, much longer than anticipated and I was keen to finish as I still had hours in the car driving back to Scotland.
I noticed that both Keith and I were rather quiet as we landed in Grasmere, tiredness was clearly playing a part but seeing the race organisers at the final checkpoint gave us a bit of a life and knowing that we were less than 10km from the finish was the mental nourishment we needed.
We had been quite quick in the checkpoints up until this point but we stayed a little longer in Grasmere as Keith knew both of the guys from The Climbers Shop (I’m going to go with Mike and Gill but could be wrong). Gill had been at the registration and she clearly remembered my idiotic face from the previous day and the warmth with which I was greeted felt genuine and heartfelt and for that I was very grateful. They tried to stuff our faces with all manner of food and drink but we were so close to the finish that I actually wanted just my water filled and then off and the guys obliged.
Keith and I were very keen to see off the race before the dark became impenetrable and with all the speed we could muster we set out from Grasmere. This final section had a few light climbs on it but it was mainly tarmac that we were following and there was nothing to concern ourselves with – I seem to recall that we spent most of the time on these final few miles being rather jolly and looking forward to food, drinks, showers and in Keith’s case being reunited with his wife and the lovely Border Colllies.
I remember Keith commenting that at this point he had one speed and although I had recovered a little bit and probably could have run this final section I had no desire to leave my companion behind and in truth I’d have only managed to get about a dozen metres ahead before he would have reeled me in again. Meeting Keith made the experience of the Ambleside 60 much more pleasant than it looked like it might have been given the struggles I know he played a huge part in me finishing on Sunday.
We rolled up to Rothay Park and the dark had finally arrived, we thanked the marshalling staff at the final corner and as is my way I tried to have a cheery word/joke and thank you for the guys who were stood there waiting in the cold ensuring that we didn’t take a wrong turn at the final point. In the dim distance I could make out the large finish line inflatable and in front of it were two dibbing points so that we could get a final time. It took me an age to get my bloody dibber in but once I did we were ushered into a tent and given medals, beer and times.
Keith’s wife was there with the dogs and I joined them briefly to thank him and to thank his wife for loaning me such a wonderful gentleman for the day.
starting from Rothay Park, the Ambleside Trail 60 is a 60km loop made up of some iconic Lake District running. From the park, participants will make their way up and over Loughrigg towards Skelwith Bridge, Tarn Hows and from there onwards towards Coniston. Before reaching Coniston, the route climbs above Coniston Coppermine and toward Lad Stones. Continuing onward, the route makes its way to Little Langdale and after a short but punchy climb reaches Blea Tarn. Runners then make their way up Stake Pass and then follow the Langstrath Beck before climbing back up Lining Crag, the biggest climb on the course. Runners descend into Grasmere and slowly wind their way back toward Ambleside..
I’ve run over 50 ultra marathons and I’ve run across some of the toughest trails in the crappiest conditions and I can honestly say that the route of the Ambleside 60km was a bit of a terror. I mentioned earlier that this felt more like an ultra distance fell race than a trail race. Although the path was defined it was, in parts, brutal – despite the shortness of the distance this was a route that really threw everything at you and there was a procession of the walking wounded on the course as the Ambleside 60 took no prisoners.
This is not a route for the inexperienced and had the weather conditions been worse then this would really have given the competitors a challenge that even more might not have finished. What I will say though is that the Ambleside 60 route gave so much back in views and beauty that you really can’t complain about the temporary pain inflicted by the course.
The climbs were tough, the variety was welcome and the route marking was exceptional – just a few less rocky roads would have made this a more complete running experience. Don’t misunderstand me though this was a brilliant route and I feel fortunate to have seen parts of the Lake District that only become accessible if you are willing to put the effort in. The highlight of the route for me was the second climb up Stake Pass, which as well as being as tough old boots, had the wonderful sound of gushing water on both sides of the pass, it had majesty all around it and there was a eeriness about it as you could see nothing of modern life as far as the eye could see – wonderful.
So, perhaps a few little tweaks to make sure that this doesn’t become an ‘only suitable for the mountain goats’ and the route cold be a real winner for everyone wanting to take part.
The organisation was 100% top notch, from registration to the near army of marshals that were posted on the course – this was some of the best organisation I have ever seen. The route marking for the most part was fantastic, the little map we received at the start was perfect as a guide and the pre and post race information was concise and informative. A huge thank you should go to all the organisers and especially the marshalling and medical staff who offered friendly faces all over the day. Races like this do not happen without the support of lots of people behind the scenes – and it was clear that the work they had put in here had really paid off.
I go mountain running most weekends and I go hill running after work and I know what kit I need to carry with me, I know how to be safe in the mountains and in adverse weather conditions and to that end I felt that the mandatory kit list was a little over complicated. I understand completely that safety comes first and that not all runners are experienced in the hills but there does need to be a balance. I did note that a number of the runners had very small amounts of kit with them and you had to wonder how where they fitting all the mandatory kit into such a small space?
Given my back issues carrying all the required kit was always going to be one of the main challenges I faced during the Ambleside 60 and I have a preference to carry specific things that help my individual race needs. For example I have my ridiculously weak feet so spare socks are a must and I’m known to take a picture or two so spare battery is also an essential. But rules are rules and it is important that we all adhere to them – they are designed to ensure your safety isn’t compromised, might just be worth looking next year about a little more flexibility between the mandatory and recommended kit.
Having great sponsors like Rab and Ultimate Directions mean that sometimes there are excellent goodies and this time there was a delightful Rab beanie available pre-race and post race there was some Hawkshead Brewery beer, which if you’re a beer drinker is a great reward for a job well done – obviously as a teetotaller the beer is less relevant to me but I know someone who’ll drink it for me. The medal was nice and understated, which seemed very much in keeping with the whole ethos of the event and I appreciated that. I wore my medal proudly all the way home to Scotland and as I crawled up the stairs to my bedroom upon returning home I made sure that it took its rightful place with its brother and sister medals at the top of the stairs.
I’ve said it before and I’ll repeat it, the value for money aspect is very much down to personal opinion about your experience. I very much believe that the Ambleside 60 was excellent value for money at £65 and to be fair if you’d charged a little more it would still have represented good value for money. The little goodies, the excellent event staff, the support both before and after, the photography and the challenge of the event itself mean that you have to say you really did get bang for your buck. Some people might bemoan the lack of race T-shirt but the truth is I would rather have had the beanie – it’s always nice to get something useful that most races don’t think about.
I owe this finish to Keith – I would not have made it without you. Thank you.
Is this a great race? Not yet.
Does this have the potential to be a great race? Oh yes!
2019 as its inaugural running was a damn fine event, it gave the best views of Ambleside and its surrounds that I’ve ever had the honour of laying my eyes on. The Ambleside 60 has much to recommend it and if you’re lucky enough to have a clear day as we did then you’ll bear witness to a visual treat. The medal for this one really is worth earning and you will feel like you have accomplished something truly spectacular when, or perhaps more appropriately, if you cross the finishing line. The organisation of the race, for me, makes this one stand out in the memory too – there was genuine care for the runners and that should be recognised, nobody got anything less than 100% from the excellent team.
However, this isn’t perfect I’ve mentioned that it felt like a long distance fell run in places and the course was incredibly hard going at times, even in good conditions. I genuinely believe more responsibility should be on the individual regarding kit choices and I’d probably prefer to see the race run on a Saturday to give runners the Sunday and a chance to rest for their weary bones before a return to grindstone of work on a Monday (I found the drive back to Scotland really tough and Monday was weird in the office). However, if nothing changed, if the race came back next year in exactly the same format would I run it again? The answer is 100% yes, there is something special about the Ambleside 60 and it deserves its soon to be well established reputation as a tough as old boots brilliant ultra marathon.
So if you’ve read this and thought, he sounds likes you had a horrible time, then you’ve misunderstood me, there was no misery for me just a real ball busting challenge – which is primarily what I look for in an ultra marathon and if it is what you look for then you’re going to have a mighty fine time.
They bet me I couldn’t down a pint of whiskey and still be sober later – I downed the whiskey and next remember being in a police cell being offered sausage and eggs covered in my own vomit and probably my own piss. Needless to say the first thing I did upon my release was to head over to the house of the girl I fancied and ask, ‘what the bollocks happened…’
She told me I should go home and shower.
I never dated that girl.
That was one of the many anecdotes I told as I bimbled and bumbled around the Silkin Way Ultra this last weekend. It was a funny race and something I was completely unprepared for but it was all good fun in the end. But before we reach the conclusion we need the journey and this is what happened.
It was 2am when my alarm went off, I’d gotten to bed at around 11pm due to having run out of printer ink and needing to handwrite the narrative route instructions, so when I awoke I wasn’t in that great a mood. However, a shower and a thick slathering of Vaseline’s finest around my nuts offered the usual level of excellent preparation. I had to two large coffees and a bowl of Cornflakes before I left the house at 3am and took position behind the wheel of Spusm, my little Toyota Aygo. I wished us both well because a) it was 3am in the morning b) there was heavy rain and c) this was my first significant drive without anyone else in the car with me and I was about to drive 3 and a half hours to Shropshire.
Vroom! Vroom! Thankfully aside from trucks and roadworks the motorways up to Telford were pretty quiet, my only real concern was the rain and I surprised myself when I rolled into Telford Services pre-6am (and pre Burger King being open). This though offered the opportunity for the coffee I’d had earlier to perform its magic and relieve me of my inner poo turmoils and yesterday’s delicious homemade spiced Indian meatballs. With no second breakfast options I headed over to the Village Hall in Coalport and took a wander down by the river as even the race organisers hadn’t arrived.
Denzil and the guys arrived not long after me and began setting up, I did offer to help but they had everything under control and so I returned to the relative comfort of the car and looked out for the other runners coming in. I chatted with several lovely Marathon and ultra regulars – all of whom were new to me, which was one of the benefits of being so far from home at a relatively small and quite new event. I chatted with others mainly about upcoming events and my fears about the Fellsman in four weeks but more immediately – how the hell you drive home after an ultra marathon!! Anyway with all the guff and gubbins done we ambled to the start and with a lovely low key start Denzil sent us on our way.
I ambled up to the Silkin Way and started to pick out my position in the instructions – with no GPX file I’d be reliant on these and the very handy chalk markings (thanks to Jon I believe) on the route. I started out at far too fast a pace and got rather caught up chatting with future ultra star Emily who bounced around the route like the Energiser Bunny but I knew her pace was going to outstrip mine and so about 5km I said adios and watched as she thundered off into the distance. From there I was able to ease off a little as it became clear to me this wasn’t going to a trail race and it’s been a very long time since I’d even tried to run long distance on tarmac and paths like this. Within 7km I could feel my knee, groin and hamstring in my left leg and by 10km I was in pain, however, if I slowed now I knew that I’d be getting back at the top end of the eight hour time limit and I really didn’t want that – so I pressed on.
The route itself was pleasant and we passed through sections of Telford that gave a nice impression of the area and harked back to much of the towns heritage. The route and the Silkin Way had many people out walking, though it was never too busy to be congested and we passed several big lovely parks and open spaces that the locals were using. On a nice morning like this it was lovely to see. I’d only been to Shropshire once previously where I went fruit picking with some old friends (although my hopes had mainly been in the seduction of French girls rather than pulling Gooseberries all day). This trip to Shropshire was for an entirely different kind of loving – my love of running.
However, as much as I love running with only 20km done I was feeling the burning heat of pain in my groin and I was grateful a couple of miles later when I reached the second checkpoint. This wonderful stop was rather handily was in one of the organisers homes – a novel and very friendly way of doing it I thought. I grabbed some cola and a few jelly babies before heading back out.
With the second half of the event now under way I was hoping that given this was effectively an out and back I’d be able to avoid the route mistakes I’d made earlier in the race but sadly no – I was still able to get bits wrong. Thankfully the mistakes were smaller and I wasn’t clocking up large extra miles.
It was a few kilometres further in that I would meet the runners that would define my race – there was no doubt I was struggling but people like Nick, Rob and Karen provided fresh inspiration to keep going at a reasonable pace. There was back and forth with these small pockets of runners but I noticed that when I was on my own or they would go past me that I would immediately slow and give in to the voice that said, ‘you’ve ruined yourself, save it for another day’. However, the jollification and support offered by being alongside other runners outweighed the negative thoughts I was having and so I did my best to keep up.
As the miles were counted down I could feel a sense of relief washing over me and when we were given a little bit of trail respite my hamstrings, knees and groin called out in gratitude – these kilometres were my favourite of the day but there simply hadn’t been enough of them to make much of a difference to the pounding the lower half of my body had taken and so I continued to slowly amble merrily along.
We were however soon back on the pavements and being sent across the mighty Ironbridge, sadly for us this glorious structure is undergoing major renovation and restoration work and was therefore completely covered. That said I can certainly say I crossed it and enjoyed the views across the town and river. From here I started clock watching or to be more accurate GPS watching, converting kilometres to miles and trying to figure out just how far was left, the trouble was I’d gone wrong in direction enough to make this futile and turned my gaze to the river and the fact I was on the side opposite to the finish line. Bugger.
All of the runners I was with had a small wobble about halfway before the actual crossing but it was with renewed vigour that we all pressed on for the final mile. Buoyed by the sight of the final directional arrow I burst forward a little ahead of the others and bounced through the car park to the finish.
There was no fanfare, simply Denzil manning the bacon butty wagon. Perfect.
Distance: Ultra 50km
Profile: Nothing too severe
Date: March 2018
Terrain: Mixed (but mainly tarmac paths)
Tough Rating: 1/5 (very accessible ultra)
Route: The route had a number of interesting bits, lots of bridges, lots of heritage and passed along some good scenery but that was tempered by the running through some really rather dull sections. The Silkin Way markers were a really nice touch and being made up of good paths the route lends itself to being fast – if you want it to be. The trail sections for me where the best part (though I believe these were off the Silkin Way) but there weren’t enough of them, however, that’s the trail runner in me talking. Ultimately I think you’ll find that this is neither the best nor the worst route you’ll ever do but has more than enough positives to make this a worthwhile run.
Organisation: This was my first time with ‘How Hard Can it Be’ and the hugely enthusiastic team were incredibly professional and wonderfully supportive. It was a relaxed atmosphere and everything was organised perfectly – just the kind of race organisation I enjoy.
Support: Aid station 1 and 3 were the same one on the out and back with aid 2 being in one of the organisers homes which was very nice and my desire to take a seat was sorely tested. Three aid stations was enough albeit the positioning was probably just a wee bit off as you had the final ten miles with no race support (although there was nothing stopping you nipping into the local shop for a bottle of water and/or a snickers!). The aid stations themselves were suitably stocked for the shorter end of the ultra distances with jelly babies, jaffa cakes, crisps, cola and water in abundance. Nothing wrong with the support.
Awards: The medal was weighty and a lovely memento of a challenging event. I also very much liked the design for the race numbers, made a pleasant change from the black number against white background. There was also the post race photograph to look forward too (or grimace at) – as per usual I look terrible!
Value for money: The route, the medal, the experience, the support and of course the cost all come to mind when I’m looking at value – how does this stack up against its contemporaries?
It comes out pretty well – primarily because of the positive experience you’ll have running the Silkin Way and different people will take away different positives from this. For me I got to run an ultra marathon in a new part of the UK, in a friendly, small field of runners with an ace medal and that means I got excellent value for money.
Conclusion: Is this the best ultra marathon in the UK? No it’s not, but is it a really good early spring shakedown ultra that will set you up for races later in the year? Oh yes!
I’d say this race is especially good for road runners who want to dip their toes into ultra marathons but who want to avoid laps or want to avoid mud. It would be excellent if you were looking for a challenging but fast 50km. Would I do it again? If I were looking for a race at this time of year I would certainly consider running this again (although I’d prepare a bit better for the tarmac) as I enjoyed myself more than the pain in my legs suggest. The fact is that races like this draw out, in my opinion, the ultra runners I want to run with and I’ll continue to support races like this for as long as lovely race directors like Denzil (and the team) put them on. Good work guys – you can check out their races at http://www.codrc.co.uk
Periodically I write about the adventures of my daughter (aka UltraBaby/ASK) and I, this blog post will update regularly and provide links to the tall tales that formed those adventures because we don’t just run… we just mainly run.
I’ve been itching to offer my insights, or lack thereof, into the Mountain Buggy Unirider since the moment I bought it – a device so simple you’ll look at it and say ‘why didn’t I think of that?’ You’ll wonder perhaps, as you look at the pictures of the device, why anyone would be willing to part with any money at all for a device you could cobble together in your garden shed.
Here’s the thing, neither you or I thought of it and it took the genius of one man, Simon Langham, to take to his shed and develop the prototype Unirider that, in mass production, under the care of Mountain Buggy, I have come to adore.
Let me explain why, if you have an age appropriate child and want to do something brilliant, this device is a no-brainer of a purchase.
I’ll let Mountain Buggy explain what the Unirider is and then we’ll look at my experience with it since we unfurled it around Kent at Christmas 2016.
One parent, one child, one wheel! Stand out from the crowd with unirider – a unique riding experience that develops balance and confidence for your child, as well as having so much fun! Unirider is a fun alternative for your little one when out and about; it provides a sense of freedom for your growing toddler while still keeping them within your fingertips. Unirider performs perfectly on all terrain with its 12″ airfilled tyre. It’s so lightweight, making it incredibly easy to lift over small obstacles – super fun for those off road adventures! You can even jog with unirider using only one hand – Mountain Buggy manoeuvrability at its best! But just remember, be safe and ensure your child wears a safety helmet whilst active with unirider! Read more about the product and origins of the Unirider here
If you were being unkind you might call it a wheel, seat and stick combination, which in truth it could be argued it is, but it’s so much more than that and you don’t really get it until you open the box and feel it.
First impressions: I pretended that this was a gift for UltraBaby but the truth is this was a gift for a running parent who loves getting muddy with his daughter. As I opened it I felt the weight of the plastic and the wheel, and although not massively heavy, had a feeling of quality, durability and security. The bold yellow moulded plastic seat is a design masterpiece.
I put together the Unirider is a couple of minutes and offered UltraBaby the opportunity of a ride round the house – she instinctively knew that the seat was for her and she sat comfortably, feet raised onto the rests ready for a quick spin round the house. We did a few quick runs, a few tight turns and then an unceremonious dismount but we were a go!
I was surprised by the level of detail that had gone into the device even though I was very familiar with Mountain Buggy products given my adoration of the MB Terrain, our trail running and adventuring Buggy. The handle grip for the pilot is well considered and grippy – feeling more like a Vibram sole than a handle, the grip for the rider is soft and comfortable and the length of the device is perfect for both me and my partner (we just use it at slightly differing angles). The wheel which looks like it’s been lifted straight from the Urban Jungle Buggy is an air filled wheel which runs well on any surface – giving both good traction when necessary on say trail or ice but also moving speedily across smoother surfaces.
Second impressions: The big test for me though wasn’t bimbling round the house it was seeing how the Unirider would fare against a hilly, muddy trail run and also how would UltraBaby appreciate being unprotected by her buggy as she got much closer to nature?
I need not have worried about the attitude of my adventure orientated child!
I decided to start her at my local muddy dog walking trail, Ashenbank Woods. We’d built up a little excitement about using our ‘bike’. She placed her helmet on and once again climbed aboard the Unirider – this time we bounded off across the wet mud, leaping over roots, smashing through branches and undergrowth and generally having an awesome time.
I was surprised how simple it was to pick up the running with the Unirider but how difficult it is to truly master, it takes a little bit of skill to assault a trail at full speed when you can’t pump your arms! That’s not to say using the Unirider is difficult – because it’s not but there’s more to it than simply pushing – it requires a little bit of unison between you and your child, and that’s the key to really enjoying it.
As we become more experienced… Running at my slower 5km speed (5min kilometre) up and down hills was hard but rewarding work and as the weeks have rolled on we’ve gotten significantly better and less exhausted! I’ve become rather adept at the one handed running, using a GoPro, answering the phone, etc and UltraBaby has really gotten to grips with leaning into the corners and adapting her weight for the terrain.
It’s impressive watching her leaning back into the seat as we pour forwards downhill, my local BMX/dirt bike track has certainly seen some miles put in from us and UltraBaby never fails to impress in her rider role.
Urban Jungle: With expanded usage we are also using the Unirider for more urban adventures such as trips to the shops and here it excels too, the length of the rider isn’t so long as to be intrusive in shops and the bright vibrant yellow offers a ‘howdly doodley’ to the oncoming human traffic. As I’ve said UltraBaby has learnt to lean into a turn and this I’ve found very helpful for urban cornering and rounding aisles in shops.
Other considerations: Some might argue that the downside is that the rider can’t sleep when it’s in use but what I’ve found is that the quality of the sleep she has post ride is deeper and better.
I’ve also found that UltraBaby enjoys the quick ‘off&on’ provided by the Unirider – when she wants off (be it in the urban environment or not) she simply asks and if appropriate we bob her forward and let her feet gently touch the ground before dismount.
Quick, easy, comfortable, efficient and fun, the best words to describe a truly tremendous product.
Distance covered: In the 7 weeks since we set the roads of Kent ablaze with the Unirider we’ve probably covered about 80-100 miles as we do use it mainly at the weekends or for when the GingaNinja is dog walking with UltraBaby (on a Thursday and Friday). It’s unlikely to replace a buggy outright, especially in cases like mine, where the buggy is a conduit to more extreme sports but is a wonderful addition to our outdoor life. The important thing to remember though is that it shouldn’t curb their own desire to run and jump about. I very much see the Unirider as the thing we use to reach and extend adventure – not curtail it. I will often carry her scooter on my back so that she can whizz round under her own steam and then return to the safety of the Unirider later.
Next steps: There are a few things we’d like to do with the Unirider over the next few months – as I’m returning to full fitness the Unirider gets ever easier and we are tackling further and further distance, so more of that methinks. However, we are likely to cap our (running) adventuring to about 10km, on the positive side thoughthere will be no limit to hiking adventures where she can ‘on&off’ as often as she likes. Parkrun will likely be a next target too and I wonder if the Unirider will be faster than the Mountain Buggy Terrain – we shall see. Other than that the Unirider will probably go to Barcelona and Madeira with us to allow for longer sightseeing options.
Conclusions: The Unirider is a thoughtful and well constructed device which is as much fun for parents as it is for your children. When it works at its best, pilot and rider act as though they have a symbiotic relationship. It is brilliant and with a reasonable price point. I have lots of love for Mountain Buggy kit and I’ll be sorry when UltraBaby finally outgrows their stuff but for the time being we are having the most fun possible – together!
When you look back over the year can you come up with a list of say your best best or craziest moments in running/racing/eventing from 2016? I had a list of about a thousand that would make my favourite or most insane moments but I narrowed it down to this … so here are my ten most memorable running moments of 2016.
Look forward to reading yours.
(10) Reaching the summit of Lomo Cumplido (despite my huge fear of heights) and realising that running big scary hills and scary races is what I really want to do.
(9) Being hit by a car less than a week before the Green Man Ultra, surviving and then rocking up to the start line and finishing.
(8) Watching the GingaNinja return to open water swim racing and loving it.
(7) Seeing and joining UltraBaby on the Chislehurst Chase 2k and witnessing her doing the whole distance under her own steam. A very proud parenting moment.
(6) Meeting the genuinely warm and wonderful Elaine at The Green Man Ultra and sticking together for 15 cold and tough miles.
(5) Having a little cry as I saw the genuine joy (of achievement) erupt between the Wonky Wanderer and her mum at the finish line of Country to Capital.
(4) Running through the deepest snowy trails in Finland and ending up to my neck in snow with only myself to rescue me.
(3) Having completed the Skye Trail Ultra, dragging myself on my poles the 5 miles to the Isle of Skye airfield, fording a river and jumping the barriers, despite my ruined feet all so I could shout ‘Gordons Alive!’ at the top of my voice pretending I’m Brian Blessed.
(2) Buggy running in the Arctic Circle with UltraBaby.
(1) Dying a death towards the end of the ridge at the Skye Trail Ultra, puking out of my mouth and my arse but then picking myself up and finishing the final 50 miles!
I started my cost assessment of the past 12 months when I felt confident I could take out the expense of going to the UTMB festival last August, which I felt had unbalanced my costs.
However, on reflection it seems it doesn’t matter and my 2016 costs have been just as high despite running less than in 2015. But why is that? The first thing I needed to do was break down my spending over the last 12 months and see where the primary cost centres have been.
For the purpose of the post costs will be broken down into a number of sectors to help identify where my money goes;
Travel & accommodation
Race entry has been reasonable in the last 12 months with very few races reaching the £100 point. This has helped to keep the overall total down and this combined with less racing being done means my race costs have actually reduced themselves.
It breaks down something like this – since October 2015 I’ve done or entered Ranscombe (3 times), Country to Capital, the Green Man, Skye Trail Ultra, Brutal Enduro, Endure 1250, Vanguard Way Marathon, Ridgeway Challenge, High Weald 50km, World Vegan Day Challenge, Haria Extreme, Madeira Island Ultra Trail.
This of course covers some races that have yet to take place and I’ve started booking in 2017 races so that cost is absorbed in 2016. I don’t mind paying a decent amount for a great race but I insist on value for money.
Foreign races almost always tend to cheaper than their UK counterparts, SainteLyon was about £48 and even Madeira with sterling slumping badly to the Euro came out at about £75 and Haria Extreme about £60 – all significant and well regarded races – all cheap as chips.
Racing can be a very expensive hobby but I hope I’ve shown a modicum of control in my outlay and you certainly won’t be catching me entering a ‘Rat Race’ or ‘Race to the…’ anytime again!
Total cost: £1100 (approx).
Running Kit 2016 was the year of major running wardrobe refreshing. Some kit had worn out and some I’d fallen out of love with and some kit I wanted to add options to.
A new Ultimate Direction Waterproof and Suunto Ambit 3 were expensive bits of individual kit but I also bought nearly 20 pairs of socks (testing Ashmei, Darn Tough and new Injinji liners bulked out my orders).
Running tops, shorts and even race bags all were updated. There was also the addition of bike trailer so that I could do cycle training with UltraBaby.
And for an exciting change running shoes were at the lighter end of expenses this year with only a dozen new pairs brought in but with 5 pairs of Altra, On Cloudrunners and some other random oddities there was still enough to add over a £1000 to quite a significant total.
What is important to note though that other than the Altra (which I usually buy the moment they are available) I tended to get very good prices on most things, rarely paying over the odds but always supporting the independent retailer. I tend to find that when you buy from brands such as OMM, Rab, Ronhill, Raidlight and Ultimate Direction you won’t always get cheap kit but you’ll usually get a bargain because the kit lasts and does it’s job properly (another bloody good reason to boycott Sports Direct).
I digress… ideally these purchases mean that 2017 will be less new kit intensive and more a case of topping up if I need something specific. Fingers crossed.
Total cost: £3000 (approx).
Travel and accommodation This is always the one that’s most difficult to measure but this year there has been a marked increase in me going to races alone and therefore I’ve seen an increase in travel and accommodation costs. Lanzarote, Madeira and the Isle of Skye have been the biggest costs but it’s difficult to break the numbers down for trips that also include a holiday element as I’m more extravagant when family travel with me.
Skye though I travelled alone, used the sleeper train and bus and stayed at a local youth hostel, that came in at about £275 for 3 days on Skye with food as extra. Infact I think food at Skye was my biggest expense but then I didn’t exactly scrimp – eating at every opportunity at the excellent and reasonably priced Cafe Sia.
This is probably now the most expensive part of running, especially when you’ve exhausted all your local races and you’ve got to start travelling to avoid repetitive race injury (or boredom as I think of it). I do try and limit my foreign racing to just a couple per year (to avoid over stretching my families patience) but there’s always another one. Upcoming from my base in sunny Kent I’m committed to Surrey, the Brecons, Madeira, the South Downs as race destinations and I’m liable to add the Pilgrims Way and at least one race in France.
Perhaps though it’s the biggest travel expense I’m already thinking about and that would be a trip to Frozen Head State Park in Tennessee if I can figure out how to get on the list – but that’s buried in the future.
So what’s included here then? Accommodation costs, flights, train fares and approximate petrol costs.
Total cost: £3000 (approx)
Nutrition I’m glad I don’t spend a small fortune on expensive running food as a) I don’t really like it and b) it’s way too expensive – I’m happiest with a big slab of cake and a mug of sweet tea or a chicken cup-a-soup. However, I’m usually not a big fan of the food provided at aid stations and so I normally spend anywhere between £10 and £45 per ultra on food including chocolate milkshakes, Reece’s cups, Biltong, pasties, chicken, chocolate and even pizza.
Medical I’d love to say my medical bill was zero but it isn’t – thankfully my physio bill has been much lower than normal and my doctor charges a very sensible £10 per signature. Under medical though we also have to add all the potions, lotions and bits of rubbery neoprene I’ve used to try and keep my legs fit – there was also the TENS machine (a very good purchase I might add) and lots of other bits and bobs that just add up.
Total cost: £700 (approx)
This isn’t a post designed to say ‘oooo look at me and how much money I spend on running’ not at all. Actually it’s designed as a two-fold post, the first is a reminder to me that running can be a very expensive hobby and also it’s worth looking at your costs to ensure you aren’t being too wasteful.
There’s no doubt for example that I own too many pairs of trail shoes and that I probably don’t need to consider buying the GoPro Session 5 and the Karma drone when they arrive in the UK but as I’ve stated before running is my primary (and often only) hobby. This ultimately means I’ve always been comfortable with my spending, when I compare it to the cost of smoking four packets of cigarettes a week (around £2,500 per annum) then running/racing is comparatively cheap with lots of added benefits – it’s the same with booze, if we take the average cost of a pint of lager as £3.15 (asked Google – more like £4.00 in Greater London) and assume a person drinks his/her units maximum per week then the annual cost of (just the) beer is around £2,000 – an expensive habit, I’d rather run.
For me, the cost of running is never allowed to spiral uncontrollably either as ultimately I’m a bit of a tight arse and it never takes priority ahead of the more important things in life such as chocolate but I do keep a sensible eye on it.
How do I make sure I keep costs relatively consistent while at the same time ensuring I’m doing the races I really want to do, in the kit I want to wear, in places I want to go? Well that’s become easier because it’s increasingly become about finding quality and happiness. Both the Isle of Skye and the SainteLyon could have cost a lot more but it wouldn’t have improved my experience.
Maybe that’s the key, when you’re doing something brilliant or epic or both it becomes only about that tremendous journey and not all the glitz around it.
Book early Flights and accommodation especially, this become harder to find and more expensive the closer to race day you get and if you have specific needs it’s best to get these done as soon to your entry as possible.
AirBnB Although I haven’t stopped using hotels I’ve found using AirBnB to be a very useful service. For trips to Perth, Chamonix and now Lanzarote and Madeira I’ve taken to hiring a home. For a runner there are a number of benefits – the main one being space and facilities. Obviously for an overnight then a travelodge or similar are often fine but the AirBnB option has made family race travel particularly accessible.
European running an option? Pre-Brexit European running was/is very much an option. Cheap flight to somewhere nice, a bit of wild camping and for £50 and an inconvenient take-off you can have a weekend of running in the trails of somewhere fantastically exciting. Alternatively as I’ve indicated there are a world of great races out there – as an example the Istanbul Marathon is about £25 to enter! Seems like a bargain to me. This isn’t to say that you can’t run in the UK or wild camp up in the highlands of Scotland BUT our petrol prices are stupidly high as are our rail fares and most weekends (when many of us doing our LSR) have severe delays and cancellations making many locations inaccessible. Although I would draw everyone’s attention to the London to Cardiff option I came across last night while researching travel options for the SW100 – train (London Paddington – Cardiff) £75, 2hrs or bus (London Victoria – Cardiff) £6, 3.5hrs. So there are options here too. Something to consider for an adventure.
Shop around for kit Kit is a big expense but there are ways of maximising our money to ensure we make the most of our spend. The first is to browse through sales – we often love our kit but as it’s original release date gets further away the cost becomes less because manufacturers want to sell us the next iteration. Therefore last seasons colours become cheaper. Bingo.
This leads into the point about buying the best, most suitable kit you can. I split my kit into two distinct piles, the first is race kit, the second is training kit and while there is crossover there is quite a distinct line between the two. For example my SLab Exo Skin shorts never get used for training because they wouldn’t offer anything more than my favourite pairs of Nike twin skin shorts do but on race day they feel like uniform and at 50 miles in I’m grateful for the mild compression. This also means though that the £100 Salomon shorts although much more brittle than the Nike shorts will probably last the same amount of time. It’s true that the Nike shorts (3 different pairs) get worn every single day and the Salomon have been used less than 50 times but it’s an efficient use of kit and resource.
Remember the best kit doesn’t have to be the most expensive it just has to be right for you.
To that point I’d also give a mention to companies like Decathlon who do inexpensive, well crafted outdoor and running gear. No it doesn’t have a swoosh on the side and all the kit had stupid names but it’s excellent kit and well thought out. I still own base layers I bought from Decathlon 12 years ago and they are still going strong (4 short sleeve, 1 long sleeve – £15 the lot). Bargain. The most important thing not to be sucked in by is the ‘Sports Direct Discount’ it’s not real and you’ll get significantly harder wearing, better cut,equally priced kit from more reputable retailers who bring them good sporting knowledge.
Avoid events? This one would make me sad but you could if you so wished simply not do the events or only do social ultras/social runs or LDWA events – cheap and brilliant ways of getting together with like minded people at a fraction of the cost.
Conclusions So my total cost for running in 2016 was £7800.00 (approx). It seems like a decent whack of cash when you commit it to blog but it’s a number I can live with and believe it to be fairly in line with expectation – although I suspect I’ve been kind to myself in where I’ve drawn the line on what is a running cost and running/adventuring is very much part of the family lifestyle – so it gets a bit murky.
As a final point and to encourage people and remind them RUNNING DOESN’T HAVE TO COST ANYTHING. Remember all you need is the will and determination to get out there.
I’m curious to know how much you lot out there spend on running and do you think you’ve got the balance right in your spending?
Since having UltraBaby delivered it has been harder to put time on my feet, it’s been a logistical challenge to get the balance right between work, life, parenthood and running and I’ll be honest I’m not there yet but it’s a very moveable feast and I’ve been learning to adapt.
My plan this weekend had been a longer run (without UltraBaby) on the Saturday followed by a shorter distance on the Sunday doing some buggy running mileage on the Kent hills. The problem was that parenting got in the way on Saturday and so the LSR had to put back but given the GingaNjnja was working all weekend I was going to need to combine the hills and slightly longer distance.
The furthest I’ve run on an out and back with the buggy is about 12miles – 6 hard miles uphill and 6 harder miles on the downhill. I decided I’d do a point to point instead and meet the GingaNinja at her workplace as she was finishing but this meant tackling some genuinely nasty uphills and when pushing 30+ kilos of buggy, baby and kit this can be quite a challenge.
We set out at a fair old pace and bounded up the first of the hills, rolled down the next one and continued in this fashion for 7 or so miles before we hit a pitstop for a nappy change, a bite to eat for baby and a photograph outside a delightful little church. I suppose that’s the difference between buggy running and just normal running – you have to be ready for the unexpected and happy to stop to deal with child issues. I’m quite lucky in that UltraBaby sleeps, eats and enjoys the views as we run and rarely cries to show her dissatisfaction at pace, weather or environment. I digress…
We hit the afterburner for the second half and pushed on through places like Higham and Strood and on towards Rochester and was glad to see the castle in the distance. 14 buggy running miles proved hard work but good work.
I could have just written this weekend off and stayed at home when my plans got torn up but as a parent who runs I do have to roll with the punches and ensure that what I do is positively building towards my aims this year.
So there we go, what did you get up to this weekend? Was it Paris, Paddock Wood, Parkrun or something else?
I was having a think the other day about televised sport and in particular – free to air televised sport. I have a very limited interest in football any more and sports like rugby, cricket and even track based athletics have never held my attention for long periods. However, my boss introduced me to the crown in Scotland’s TV sporting output – The Adventure Show.
The Adventure Show looks at the best eventing north of the border that’s just a little more obscure, a little on the wild side and a genuine contender for ‘crowd pleaser of the year’.
Why do I mention this? Well, I want to see the same thing down here on the BBC (or other terrestrial option) proper. I’ve got nothing against cookery programmes, DIY shows and pricey period romps but think about a show dedicated to mountain biking, ultra running, sky running, orienteering, kayaking, triathlon, coasteering, OCR and all the other things we, as adventurers, want to see more of.
The BBC Trust found in their own research that …members told us that audiences across the UK think the BBC’s services are performing well. However, Councils suggested that more television programmes made by BBC Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland should be broadcast on the national networks
However, according to an analysis published in the Radio Times, ‘£35 million will be cut from the BBC Sport rights fund, and with several deals set to end soon, that means much-loved terrestrial sports could go.’
We’ve already seen a steady decline in sporting coverage over the years on terrestrial TV as sport has become bigger and bigger financially and Murdoch has moved almost everything to a pay for view model. Therefore BBC and other terrestrial options have focused on the gala events such as the Olympics and then exploited them with over-analysis and spread ideas thinly – glossing them over as bonus content. But maybe there could be a shake-up in strategic thinking and this could in part be by looking at what our country is actually doing and bringing them some of that.
I was looking at the list of what the BBC currently holds and what they’ve given up/lost (Wikipedia not necessarily the font of all knowledge I grant you), which you can see here but it provides an interesting insight to the focus of BBC Sport. There’s a lot of sport, especially in the radio coverage, but very little that crosses those boundaries between sport, entertainment and real adventuring people, not parodies of real people like ‘Total Wipeout’.
My idea would be to bring real sporting people to the fore, much like the Adventure Show does. I can imagine a piece of programming which follows the adventures of people like @abradypus or @borleyrose – dedicated hours of television where adventure was the key, not just running, but everyday people being brilliant. Think of it as an outdoor double bill being paired with Countryfile.
The UK is currently in a golden era of adventuring – you only need to look through social media to see the kind of insane stuff that people are getting up to – shouldn’t we be promoting this? Let’s also remember that BBC Trust research found that, ‘77% of audiences thought that fresh ideas were important but that only 61% thought the BBC had fresh ideas’. Time for a fresh look at what you’ve already got and how that could be further improved?
It’s a simple idea that might give BBC sport a return to credibility with real people at a fraction of the cost of your sporting crown jewels. I’m not saying we get rid of the Olympics, football, athletics or our once a year fascination with tennis but these things are all riddled with scandal, financial irregularities and cheating – why not look at sports that are a little more niche on the outside but infinitely more inclusive on the inside.
Trust me BBC (ITV, C4 and Five) watching Susie Chan at the MdS or Cat Simpson crossing the Atacama or James Elson winning Country to Capital will make for compelling viewing. It harks back to a time when the BBC had programmes like Kickstart, minority sports that today would be considered cool – believe me, bikes crossing wet and slippy logs inspired me to a life more extreme!
It’s not just that though, I’ve written previously about struggling to connect with sporting ‘celebrities’ and I don’t believe this is just me. As a nation we aren’t as fit as we should be and I wonder if a programme such as this would help in the promotion of wellbeing – not focusing on the elite and instead focusing on ‘those that do’. Inspiring equally real people to engage in sport.
I’d like an adventuring show that looked at costs, promoted the best of low-cost adventuring to ensure this didn’t become the equivalent of a Top Gear, that while entertaining, was well beyond the reach of mortal men. I’d like to see kit explored, nutrition, attitudes to the psychology of sport and other nuggets that could provide a gateway to exploration for everyone. Of course at the heart of it I’d want to see entertaining, breathtaking adventuring with gob-smacking scenery.
For those of us who’ve watched The Adventure Show (I do it via iplayer as we don’t get it in London – do we Beeb??!!) I think we can see it’s not made for a million pounds an episode! This stuff is happening regardless of whether you televise it or not so maybe you should get more involved. To the BBC especially, you’re a public service broadcaster and while I think you do a brilliant job with the resources you have I believe sport needs a rethink.
Come on Beeb, come adventuring with us and bring the nation with you! Get in touch with Triple Echo Productions and see if they fancy extending the Adventure Show nationwide! Or talk to the ever growing adventuring community and see for yourself the potential of joining us outside.
As an aside, if you aren’t going with thought number one can you at least dump the London Marathon and Great North Run from the schedule and replace it with some less charity focused races! I’m a bit sick of the celebrity and fancy dress focus of the coverage.