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I’ve been asked a million questions on ultras and I’ve asked a fair few too, some are quite individual to a person while some are really good openers to get a conversation started with someone you’ve just met and might well be running with for quite some time.

Below I’ve listed a few of the questions I’ve asked or been asked and also some of the odder responses that I’ve heard and been heard to say. Having time to finally finish this epic post is one of the few benefits of self isolation.

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  1. Do you rock up to Parkrun in an ultra t-shirt to show off, then get your arse kicked by a 6 year old?
    This was a question I asked when I was recounting the time I had just completed the Thames Path 100 and wanted to show off by a) wearing it to the Tunbridge Wells Parkrun and b) wearing it while running with the buggy. I remember running past two guys who shouted, ‘that blokes just overtaken us while pushing a buggy’. My rather dickish response was to say, ‘ read the back of the t-shirt for the reason why!’ What an arse I was.
  2. Do you want to be on the 100 marathon list or would you rather be on the 100 ultra list?
    I remember getting to about 20 marathons/ultras and suddenly thinking I could probably get to a hundred and then when I hit about 40 marathons/ultras I realised that it didn’t matter and when I finally reached 50 I knew that I no longer wanted to be a member of the 100 marathon club. Seeing people hammering out lap after lap of looped marathons to me felt like the wrong way to go about it. I knew that if I ever reached 100 I would want to do it by going and running at really awesome place and facing down routes that would really test me.
  3. Do you have more running clothes than day to day clothes?
    I very quickly stopped buying day to day clothes in any significant manner once I was running enough to justify running purchases. From there I realised that I would be much happier in kit that was designed to do the thing that I love like hiking and dog walking
  4. Whats the biggest lie you’ve told to justify a running purchase?
    I’ve told a few half truths over the years in order to justify a purchase or two. I did however need to sneak a couple of pairs of shoes in once and when the GingaNinja asked why my bag was so heavy I claimed there was work in there. When she saw them a few weeks later I simply told her that I’d bought them months ago. I’m confident she has never believed a single one of my lies. I do regular knock £20 off the price of a pair of shoes.img_5853
  5. You know Neil MacRitchie too?
    The amount of times I’ve run into people in the Scottish Ultra scene that know Neil MacRitchie is unreal – I sometimes wonder if he is actually real or instead some form of urban legend. We tend to run lots of the same events and his name often comes up and he is a much loved and respected face on the scene. It was delight to meet him nearly 5 years ago and it remains my joy to know him now.img_0162
  6. Which races would you immediately recommend?
    When a first time ultra runner asked me this I said, ‘Skye Trail Ultra (review), SainteLyon (review) and MIUT (review)’. I told him that if he liked being brutalised these were the races to aim for.
  7. Do you ever get sandwiches (or any other foodstuff) stuck on the roof of your mouth at checkpoints?
    It’s weird I was running on the St Peters Way and I had eaten a sandwich and the crustless bread connected with my upper palette and refused to move. I ended up putting my filthy, sweaty fingers into my mouth and scrapped the sandwich out, it was horrific as the butter and ham sloshed about in my mouth. This remains one of my worst moments when racing, which is weird considering the amount of poo stories I’ve got in the locker.
  8. Have you ever made a mud fairy?
    I was running the Ambleside 60 (read about it here), my 51st ultra and I was about 45km in and I took a mis-step into a thick pool of mud, normally I would correct myself but for some reason I simply allowed my foot to sink further and further into the mud until the cold wet mud was tickling my testicles (low slung?) Anyway gravity soon took over and I found myself lurching backwards into the filthy brown stuff and while there I felt the delusions of the day come upon me and simply started making a mud fairy. It wasn’t impressive as a fairy but it was a lot of fun.
  9. Ever felt you were in genuine danger during a race?
    There have a couple of times were I’ve felt in real trouble, the first time was on a ridge in the dark on the Isle of Skye with quote a severe drop to one side of me. I leaned heavily into the side where I was more assured of safety. The only other time I felt in danger was when I was running past groups of men in the shadows of the canal section of Country to Capital – now as far as I am aware no runner has ever been attacked but you’re running through some pretty shitty sections of London on that route and the canal was clearly a Mecca for those wanting to do drugs or have illicit sex – I definitely overheard the moans and groans of more than one fat sweaty man down on the canalised as I was running.gptempdownload-29
  10. How do you cope with mental fatigue?
    At around the mid point of a race I can sometimes start to struggle mentally – doesn’t matter the distance it is always at about the midpoint. There are so many tricks that you can adopt to try and get through it – some people will listen to music or podcasts others will focus on their surroundings but I find myself during moments of mental fatigue to benefit from company. This can be such a hard thing though that you become reliant on the generosity of another persons mental strength to help pull you through. There have been innumerable runners whose positivity and mental security have seen me across a finish line, from Anne-Marie at my first ultra at the White Cliffs 50, to Andy at the Skye  Trail Ultra, Neil at Tweed Valley through to the amazing Elaine at the Green Man. I remember these people and more because when I was feeling down, when I was ready to give up they showed me that there was another way. This highlights perhaps why my successes at ultras on mainland Europe have been so rare – the language barrier can make it harder to get that lift from your fellow runners, funny really.
  11. Which is you favourite running shop?
    I love running shops, they’re awesome and sadly we’ve lost a fair few of them recently including the awesome Likeys. Independent running shops are the life blood of the ultra running community and we should always support them – I don’t have a favourite which is why I try and buy from all of them but my usual go to places are Pete Bland Sports, Castleberg Outdoors, Northern Runner, The Climbers Shop and occasionally I’d dip in to Runners Need. The one place I refuse to buy from though is Sports Direct and there are so many goo reasons why I won’t
  12. What’s the best tip you’ve ever been given?
    I have a list of the best tips I have ever received and I’ll give you my top three, the first is ‘walk the hills’ the second is ‘walk the hills as fast as you can’ and the third top tip is ‘never sit down’. I mostly stick to these rules.
  13. How rapey do you think I look?
    This is a question that comes from the fact that during a race a fellow runner in the middle of the night approached me and said, ‘do you mind if we together? You don’t look too rapey’. Now as an opening gambit it is both ballsy and memorable. Jo turned out to be a fabulous runner who just need a bit of support during a tough moment on the Thames Path 100 but that question has stuck with me and it is a tale I enjoy telling on the trail with all the obvious embellishments of mock horror in my reaction.
  14. Do you have a spreadsheet at home with race data on it?
    Lots of runners I know have spreadsheets with race finishes, I do not but what I do have are countless Moleskine notebooks with race notes, kit lists, runs I’ve done, blog ideas, etc.
  15. What’s the best tip you’ve ever given?
    Don’t forget to take tissues
  16. How much do you get respect from your family for your running adventures?
    Almost zero, even my daughter who used to think I was the mutts nuts or running  now tells me she is a better runner than I am
  17. Do you do the whole social media running thing?
    I have a bit of. a love hate relationship with running community and social media, I found myself becoming part of little ultra running groupings and I started to not enjoy being part of that and so I came off for a while and when I returned they had moved on and I felt much better about my participation in the social media running community. I like to think I have positive control over social media, posting only when I have something to say on a subject or to reply to those who might contact me. I suppose the other thing that really annoyed me about social media was the amount of people you would be talking to and you couldn’t determine whether you were talking to a person or talking to the mouthpiece for a brand – that really chaffs my arse about social media in the running community.
  18. Do you think races are too expensive?
    Yes and no. Rat Race are too expensive by a country mile but then The Falkirk Ultra is too cheap. Some RDs really aren’t making any money from putting events on and that saddens me. Ultimately if you’re putting in all the hard work to make something a success for other people then there should be some form of reward at the end of it. On the other side of it there is no doubt that things like Race to the Stones are too commercial and overpriced but there are also lots of races in the middle. I suppose the message is that there is something for everyone regardless of your budget be it big or small. Me personally I’m not dogmatic about ‘the race must be less than £1 per mile’ but I do look for value for money and for my money I want a great route, an interesting medal and good organisation – then I’m happy my money has been spent wisely regardless of the cost.
  19. Have you ever done one of the Rat Race events?
    I have actually done a couple of the Rat Race events, I think the first one was The Survival of the Fittest 10km running around a obstacle course in the grounds and the structure of Battersea Power Station, an exciting experience but even in 2011 it was about £50, I went on to run my second ultra marathon with them, The Wall – another expensive one but the value for money here was better and I was grateful of their support throughout the race.
  20. What’s the most expensive race you’ve done?
    This is a difficult one because there are so many ways to measure the cost of race – so the cost per mile is a popular way of looking at it but I tend to look at the broader cost implications when calculating the costs. So for example travel to the race, accommodation costs, kit specific to that race, entry fee, etc. I also like to add in a cost for enjoyment – so the more I enjoyed a race then the less I will be bothered by the financial impact of an event. When I add all these together then the most expensive race I’ve ever been involved in was the CCC from the UTMB series of races and the truth of the matter is that it is also the race I enjoyed the least.
  21. What do you do if you shat yourself?
    I’ve asked this question several times to several very lovely runners – almost all of whom had a story to tell either about themselves or someone else. I’ve never quite shat myself but I’ve come pretty close on more than one occasion – it was either the Testway Ultra or the Mouth to Mouth and I’d been running painfully for about 5km because there was zero cover and I was desperate for a poo. I eventually found a single thorny bush at the top of a hill and ‘hid’ as best I could. At least five runners ran past me in the 30 seconds that I was perched and I had to clean up my own mess as best as I could – I hoped nothing ever dug that monster up!
  22. What’s the most ridiculous reason for injury you’ve picked up during a race?
    I had just gotten back from a week in the lovely Budapest and had as usual done zero training, we arrived back into London at about 2.00am and my next race was less than five hours away. I quickly packed up a load of kit and bumbled along to the race start of a lapped ultra on the Cyclopark in Gravesend, Ken. I was looking to keep my distance to the minimum so was keeping close to the inside edge when I slipped off the track and onto the grass – twisting my ankle in the process. I was about 20km in to a 100km race and made the immediate decision to drop down to the 50km distance. I remember hobbling for about 10km before I gingerly tried a bit more running – it took months to recover from my own stupidity and maybe I was never the same again.
  23. To pole or not to pole? Is that even a question?
    I met an older runner at a race some years ago who was bimbling along quite nicely and I asked him why he wasn’t using the poles he was carrying in his pack, especially given the terrain we crossing. He stopped and turned to me and said, ‘I don’t use them to run with, I use them to the whack the tourists who are in my way’.
  24. What’s the worst blistering you’ve ever had during a race?
    There are some horrendous tales of blistering – mostly feet based but I’ve witnessed runners who have had skin tore from their bodies from race vests that have rubbed or T-shirts that aren’t as silky smooth as they should be. During ‘The Wall’ my feet were really struggling, at mile 42 I took my shoes off and looked at my feet – I counted more than a dozen blisters on each foot and treated the worst offenders with Compeed second skin solutions, I burst a couple of them that I knew I could contend with for the remaining 30 miles and the rest I was just going to have to put up with.When I stopped at mile 62 my feet were one big bloody mess and I finally changed my shoes. I had run the first 62 miles in a size 8.5 Adidas, narrow fitting,  trail shoe and the last 7 in a pair of size 9, soft, supple Inov8. What I can tell you is this, in later years I discovered that I was not a size 8.5, nor a size 9, I am actually a size 10 – but a wide fitting size 10, hence why I now wear Altra and Topo Athletic as my first choice shoes. I have a feeling that the blistering I experienced during The Wall was very much down to my footwear choice that day.
  25. Ever tried to run with carrier bags on your feet after you look like you’ve already got trench foot?
    While volunteering on a hundred mile ultra I saw feet in the worst possible condition but there was a Frenchman I met who had what looked like trench foot. He was pretty ruined at mile 76 were I was stationed and after a short rest in the dry of the tent he said, ‘I will put my feet in these’ and handed us two sealed plastic bags and he insisted that we gaffer tape the bags to his legs and then he inserted them back into his shoes. We advised him that his feet would be like boil in the bag rice and that the pain he was in would be nothing to the pulled pork effect he was going to be suffering from later down the line – his response to us was, ‘I am French’. I don’t know anything further about the man other than he finished the remaining 24 miles in the horrid, hot, wet, summer weather.
  26. What are your bad running habits?
    I want to say I don’t have any bad running habits but the truth is I have thousands and I’ve been told about a few too. A lady I was running the Testway ultra was telling me about how she would always carry one spare buff with her – for the front and back wipe scenario, she went on to say that she would of course the same buff for keeping sweat out of her eyes or even wiping her nose and keeping her face warm. I was both disgusted and heartened by this. N.B. I always carry at least 3 buffs with me.
  27. What inspires you to do the training?
    Sadly very little but if there is one thing that will force me out is the guilt of over eating and getting a bit lardy. A great running experience comes a close second
  28. Favourite podcast to listen to when you’re running?
    Without a doubt ‘My dad wrote a porno’ it is the single least erotic but filthiest listening material you’ll ever come across and often has me in belly laughs. I tend not to race listening to anything but if I’m running and hiking in the hills alone then I will invariably listen to something like that. The other great listening material is Matt Fforde’s Political Party which I find fascinating and revealing. Both highly recommended.
  29. Did Lindley Chambers ever let you stroke his beard?
    I’ve never met anyone who was fortunate enough to stroke his beard but I’ve known a lot of people who have wanted to. He has a face that seems to suggest he would not enjoy his face being stroked.

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  30. If you knew you were going to die out on a trail one day which one would you choose?
    I’d choose Skye I think on the ridge where I nearly died in the baking sun as I shat myself stupid while also puking my guts up
  31. How many miles a year do you run?
    I’m always amazed when fellow runners go, ‘3,000 miles’ or even ‘2,000 miles’ and then I realise that in a decent year I probably run around ‘2,000 miles’. Some of the runners you meet are truly special in the awesome distances that they can run but then I’m in awe of most people who get out there.
  32. What’s the best race T-shirt you’ve ever gotten from a race?
    So many race T-shirts have meaning, not just mine but everyones. The shirt I got from Escape from Meriden (review) is a personal favourite of mine
  33. Do you enjoy enjoy the overnight running?
    I’ve spoken to lots of runners about running through the night and I’ve met a lot of runners who like me find that bit of the night between about 2am and 5am – the coldest bit of the night – really tough. The bit when you are desperate for the sun to come up to relieve the claustrophobia that you’re feeling. I’ve seen runners wrap up and cover themselves for the night time duration but this is something I tend to avoid as I’m not a fan of changing my kit  unless absolutely necessary, we all have our little tricks to survive the night but I think we are all glad when it is over.
  34. Do you forget that you’ve done certain races?
    I never thought it was possible to forget races but I met people early in my career that could barely remember some of the races they had competed in. I realise that some races are more memorable than others but I couldn’t imagine a time when this would happen to me – now though, more than 200 races in and I can barely recall the ones I did last year never mind the races I did nearly a decade ago. Worse than forgetting races is the fact that I also now mix up races and certain bits from one event get inserted to the timeline of another, maybe that is the reason I write about them – so I can bloody well remember them.
  35. If you were to wax your pubes would this itch during a race?
    This question came up twice in quick succession at two different races, once with a lady and once with a gentleman both of whom gave a full and frank account of racing post waxing your bits. The lady said that it needs to be done a few days before to give it time to all calm down a bit and feel nice and lovely smooth against the lycra. She told me that she found the experience of trimming her bush back rather painful as the hairs then had sharp ends and could cause pain as she was running. She did indicate that if you were prone to excessive sweating or it was very hot then it could be a less pleasant experience if you are hairless down below. The gentleman I met who was discussing this issue explained that he had once waxed his entire body about two weeks before a race during a stag party – he didn’t go into the details about how he ended up being totally waxed but I’m confident it wasn’t a usual routine. He explained that the itch was unbearable and that wearing his Compressport gear was making it ten times worse. in the short time I ran with him he must have itched himself about a million times and I can only image he was desperate to grab hold of his nut sack and give it good old scratch. Poor bugger. The lesson is be careful if you’re a fan of hairlessness
  36. How far off the route do you go for a poo?
    I’m a bit of slow coach so if I go too far off the route I’ve simply got to make that distance back up, therefore I try to go far enough not to be seen, or worse, smelt and also somewhere with enough cover that nobody will ever come across it and I can bury it to some degree. I once had a situation where I was into the last 10 miles or so of a 100 mile race and to my surprise I had a bit of a turn of pace, it was early in the morning and the first light of day was coming through. The trail was winding and fun and I decided to enjoy this first light by running a bit harder than I had through the night. As I cam tearing around the corner I saw a fellow competitor, naked from the waist down, sitting atop a branch with his milk bottle legs dangling down and poo evacuating his bottom. I ran past him with nothing more than a, ‘nice morning for it’ and smiled at his companion who had been guarding the trail from the other direction. I never saw him again but what I did see – the milk bottle white legs, the poo evacuating his bottom and his penis – was quite enough.
  37. Have you ever thought you’ve seen an apparition on the trail?
    No, they don’t exist
  38. How many shoes have you lost in bogs?
    I’ve never lost a shoe in a bog but I once saw a runner at one of these OCR races – I think it was the Grim Challenge walking slowly back to the start barefooted – he had lost both his shoes and one of his socks. This was a sad sight as it was the middle of December and he just looked miserable.
  39. What’s the weirdest thing you thought a shadow was?
    It was at the Challenge Hub 24 and on each lap in the dark I imagined hat this branch was a snaked trying to bite me – the truth is that it was a combination of the wind and the branch that kept trying to bite me. Weirdly though during the daylight hours I did see a couple of grass snakes on the route – maybe that was playing on my mind in the darkness.
  40. How many days will you use the same kit for before washing?
    I need clean kit everyday – I mean I could just about manage to wear the same running kit on my commute in to work and my commute home but I would even then sometimes have a clean top. But I know runners, especially ultra runners who have worn the same kit for a week before they’ll even consider it dirty enough to hit the washing machine. One woman who shall remain nameless said she wouldn’t wash her kit until it was crusty enough to put a crease in it. Nasty.
  41. Why do you think we believe we are interested in each other?
    I’m curious as to why I find myself revealing the contents of my life to complete strangers while running when in real life I am a very private person and won’t share my address, my date of birth, the names of my loved ones, etc. I often wonder what it is about being alongside someone who is a complete stranger to you that makes you tell tales that you would normally take to the grave with you. I know I’m not alone in doing this either – I’ve come across people who just natter for hours on end and often with a specific focus on personal events in their life. I find it fascinating and I also find it wonderful. I’ve never managed to get the bottom of why we believe we are interested in one another but I have a theory – I’ve assumed that we know the chances that we will meet again are remote and therefore we can share things we might not normally share and that there is a joy in someone who will listen or support from a brand new perspective. I’m always grateful for those people that listen to me witter on and I’m equally grateful to those that witter right back at me. I remember people like Francesca at the Testway Ultra, Elaine at The Green Man, Grant at the Snowdonia Marathon, Anne-Marie at the White Cliffs, Andy at the Skye Trail Ultra or Neil at any number of events – these people and many, many more have often made events for me and their chatter has been the thing that has gotten me through and I hope in some small part that my chatter helped them too.
  42. Do you ever wonder why you blog for so few readers?
    I was speaking to a fellow running blogger a few months back and they said that they get maybe 200 views per month and a few more if they post something interesting and I asked why they continue to do it and they gave the answer that I gave when I would get asked that and my numbers were tiny. “I write it for myself’. Now when I started out with my first blog about a decade ago I had lots of posts and a small number of visitors, maybe 50 or 60 per day. These days the blog is still small numbers probably 5,000 or 6,000 per month but I enjoy writing for myself, recording my own history and providing good references for the races I’ve done. I go through periods where I don’t have time or can’t be arsed with blogging but mostly I find it a significant part of my outdoor life experience.
  43. Does your partner always know about the races you are entering?
    Holy fuck, no – she would murder me
  44. Would you rather be caught having an affair or entering another race?
    Difficult, I think I’d be more likely to be forgiven for an affair than another long distance race. You have no idea how many holidays I’ve booked only to then inform my family about the race I’ll be running while we are there. I’m never very popular in my house.
  45. Which comes first running or the family?
    I’m not the only person that says that running offers positive mental health benefits and I’m probably not the only person that could admit to putting my racing concerns ahead of family matters but when push comes to shove I’d probably (just about) say that family wins out over running.
  46. What was your most expensive piece of kit?
    I don’t have tonnes of uber expensive kit but I do have lots of kit. I operate with an average of 50 pairs of running shoes – most of which cost between £80 and £150, I have around 25 running vests and bags most of which cost over £100. There are three GPS watches and at least four Montane waterproof running jackets. Running has turned out to be a very expensive hobby but it is my only hobby – I don’t drink, smoke or do drugs – so I need a vice!img_6502
  47. Can you spot a first time ultra runner?
    I remember being at my first ultra race (The White Cliffs 50) and all the nice people I met, I remember having a bag that looked like it was twice the weight of every other runner and I remember a man who was sat next to me, gaffa taping his shoes up and he said time, ‘first time?’ to which I replied that. ‘yes it was’. It has always struck me that he sort of knew that this was my first time even though I was there in my Hoka and my OMM kit. Nowadays I browse the throngs of runners and I wonder who is here for their first time, I’m not very good at spotting them but I know they are there.
  48. If your nipples were bleeding would you notice?
    This is question best prefaced by a terrible tale of your own because otherwise it might look like very dark flirtation. I often tell people about my second crack at the Royal parks Half Marathon. I was wearing a light grey Nike vest and unusually I was attracting a lot more attention than usual – more applause and cheers – I made my sprint for the finish line as is my want and collected my medal. I crossed the line in a respectable but not blistering time and passed through the crowds of people to my medal and the exit. From St James Park to Charing Cross Station is a reasonable distance – not miles but far enough and what I will say sums up my experience of London. Not one of the fuckers who walked past me said, ‘Hey mate you’re nipples have bled right down your vest, are you okay?’ I had my medal round my neck and it wasn’t until I sat on the train and looked into the reflection of the window that I saw the two full length of my vest streaks of greasy, sweaty blood. Awesome.
  49. What makes you cry during a race?
    It’s always the GingaNinja – I can hold it together until I speak to her or my daughter. If its going badly and they aren’t there I will often have a big fat cry.
  50. Ever swallowed an insect while running?
    I’d heard tales of people puking up flies and the like but it had never happened to yours truly. I even saw a man who I believed to be choking stop infant of me collapse to his knees and start coughing his guts up while injecting as much water as he could. I had already started to pull my phone out ready to call for the paramedics. Thankfully it was just an inset of some description. I managed to avoid the taste of live insect until one sunny day running through the Lake District at the Ambleside 60 in 2019. It was a beautiful day and my gob must just have been open that little bit too much and what felt like a giant insect hit the back of my throat. In my mind I could feel it moving as I swallowed it – this was one of the single most disgusting things I have ever experienced. The taste was like you imagine shit to taste (it was an insect in the countryside) but it was the movement of the creature that made me really queasy – I dare say it was no picnic in the park for the insect but I hope that the copious amounts of Active Root and jelly babies that I consumed straight away consigned him or her to a sweet end.
  51. Can you trust an ultra fart?
    I believe you can but I have known other runners that would say you can’t. One gentleman who was running The Ridgeway Ultra had clearly experienced what happens when the ultra fart double crosses you. He was wearing light 3/4 running leggings (Sub4 I think). and he ha clearly had some form of watery explosion at his rear end. He was quite happily running along but the massive juicy stain at the back of his leggings wasn’t just damp through sweat it was brown through anal evacuation. I was behind him for some time and all I could feel was sorrow for the gentleman and this reminds me that no matter what never buy light coloured running bottoms.
  52. Where’s the oddest place you’ve turned up in your running kit?
    I’ve turned up in my running kit almost everywhere and I did threaten to turn up to my Grannies funeral a few days ago in my running gear as I knew this would have rightly pissed her off. However, I did once turn up to an evening performance of Aida at the London Coliseum in my running gear – I wasn’t very sweaty as I was planning on running home from the performance rather than arriving to it having run. I could see that there were some people looking at me like I was in the wrong place but then an older couple approached me and said, ‘we need more people like you at the opera’ and walked off. What I can say is that I had a very jolly time.
  53. When you run along ridges and high places do you imagine your own demise?
    Who doesn’t occasionally wonder if one day they’ll take the mis-step that hurls them hundreds of feet to their doom?
  54. What kind of pre-race jitters do you get?
    For me the pre-race jitters I get are always stomach related, usually poo related and always unpleasant. My solution is a flat white coffee about 2 hours before the race kicks off and this clears things out for me – the only trouble is that it only works about 50% of the time and you’ve got to sure that there are adequate toilet facilities around you when it does come.
  55. Do you ever wish the runner next to you would just fuck off?
    Only once have I ever wished that the runner next to me would fuck right off and she just about managed to annoy me in every single way possible. I didn’t see her again after a race where she joined in the loops despite her not being in the event – she wasn’t there to support, she was there just to pick my brains about a race she was going some months later. I was busy at the time trying to run my own race and she simply wouldn’t let me – I’ve never forgotten that experience and I try to make sure that when I’m chatting to a fellow runner I make it clear that if they’re going faster than me then they should crack on.
  56. How soon into a race do you start counting down the miles to the finish?
    Usually from about the halfway point for me, I love to conduct maths in my head as I’m running – so converting kilometres to miles of how far I have left to go, calculating my average speed based on my times checkpoint to checkpoint, etc. I really do find that the maths side of thing helps me to stop thinking about the shit that is really going on in my body.img_0646
  57. What happens to your medals?
    When I bought my first house I would come home from races and climb the stairs either to go the toilet or clean my mud stained body post race. I would always reach for the post at the top of the stairs to help with the last few steps, especially if it had been a hard or long race. It was this post that I decided I would put on my medals on so that as I jingled past them every time I ascended or descended the stairs I would hear what became known as the ‘sound of success’. Eventually the GingaNinja would have enough medals to use the other post and although she had a fair amount of neckwear for the post it was significantly less then my own collection and I would refer to this as the ‘sound of opportunity’. When we moved to Scotland I looked for a house where I could replicate this set up and in addition we have ASKs collection of medals which are referred to as the ‘sound of potential.’
  58. When you’re road running do you run silently behind people and then terrify them as you fly past?
    If I’m honest – yes I do occasionally – especially teenagers
  59. Ever fallen asleep while you’ve been running?
    Yes. I was running form Sheffield to Liverpool and in the middle of the night while I was so exhausted that I could barely stand – near a place Calle Penistone (yes really) – I found my eyes closing over and I was clearly running asleep. I have almost zero recollection about the events that transpired ahead of me but the runner I was with at the time said he had no idea that I was asleep either and it came as something of a surprise to him, what happened next. As I was running along the street narrowed into one of those old Lancashire villages with beautiful stonework everywhere, there were cars mounted on the curb and the walls of the cottages were low and jagged. My companion and I were set to turn left into the next street but for me this never happened and I simply pressed on forwards and ran straight into the low wall across the road and head first into the garden – waking as I fell. My race companion followed me across the road and whispered through his titters, as it was about 4am, ‘what happened? I’ll say this as I said then, ‘I think I fell asleep’.
  60. Has running ever cost you a relationship?
    Not that I’m aware of.but running has been a serious bone of contention over the years.
  61. Do you get annoyed when people tell you running is bad for you?
    Yes. Running has done so many wondrous things for me, better physical and mental health, I’ve seen so much of the world that is inaccessible until you’re willing to run or hike it and I’ve met so many wonderful, wonderful people over the years. Running has been nothing but kind to me – even in the times it has given me a bloody good kicking.
  62. Does your doctor understand you?
    I seem to be one of those people that must look unfit and unhealthy because my doctors will never ever sign off my medical forms for international races, in recent years I’ve had to have huge numbers of tests, gone to private doctors and worst of all I’ve had to sign the declarations myself – risking being banned from races that I love. I just wish one doctor would say, ‘ oh 53 ultra marathons and you can’t be arsed training? Sure I’ll sign this because if those buggers won’t kill you then neither will this.’
  63. Do you overshare?
    Yes – this blog post is proof of that.
  64. What brought you to ultra running?
    In 2011 after several attempts to get into THE marathon and failing I decided that I would move straight up to ultra distance instead – so with just a few half marathons, some 10kms and one marathon (at Liverpool) I hastened to the White Cliffs 50 in 2013.
  65. What would you do if you saw someone littering?
    Confront them – littering isn’t cool. I’ve only had reason to stop someone once and they took it much better than I thought they would – which I’m glad of because they would have given me a bloody good pasting if they’d hit me.
  66. Do you watch the Barkley documentary and think, ‘I could do that’?
    I’ve watched several documentaries regarding the Barkley, I’ve examined the aerial footage of the area and I’ve studied maps of the surrounding area. I dream of The Barkley Marathons and although I’ll never get in I am allowed to dream.
  67. What’s the most horrendous race you’ve run?
    My worst race was probably the Ridgeway Ultra – not because the race was terrible – far from it – the race was amazing but the temperature was absolutely blistering on the day I did it. I knew that I was going to struggle but I couldn’t believe just how bad it was going to get. At about mile 50 my testicles were on fire, I could barely move and what movement I did achieve was done looking like I was a pastiche of John Wayne. The night section of the race was incredibly windy and the temperature had really started to drop but all I could feel was the burning of my balls. I pulled my running leggings down about 4 miles from the checkpoint and looked – my memory suggests that my entire groin was glowing red but that must have been my imagination. I grabbed the tub of vaseline I was carrying in my pack and put the remains all over my scrotum – it was hideous. By headtorch I tried to clean myself up, stop the burning and make it to the checkpoint. When I hobbled in I sat stoney faced for a while, weight up the final 30 miles – I knew I was done physically, I just had to wait for my brain to catch up. That sticks out in my mind as my worst ever race.
  68. Do you still enjoy short distance races?
    I love the shorter distances but there are limits. I love the mile, I enjoy the 5k, 5mile and 10km distance but then I really love the 10 mile distance – just long enough to blast it out but without the challenge of holding on as I need to do when I run the half marathon. Weirdly it is the half marathon distance that I dislike the most, it is such an odd distance, it’s neither long or short and I’ve always struggled to set myself up properly for this despite having a just under 90 minute personal best. But yes, I still very much the joy that a short distance race and run bring. I can feel one coming on right now actually.IMG_5034
  69. Do you clean your shoes or let them fester?
    Fester – occasionally smack the crustiest bits off. Never put them in the washing machine, just loosens the glue holding them together.
  70. What, for you, is the worst part of ultra running?
    My favourite answer to this was at the Skye Trail Ultra, ‘the next hill…’. I don’t agree with that assessment necessarily but it did make me smile as struggled up the next ridge.
  71. What’s the worst chaffing you’ve ever had?
    The Ridgeway Ultra and the WNWA96 where I had to create a toilet paper anal plug to stop my arse cheeks rubbing together. Amazing how sharp you can make bog roll if you try.
  72. Ever stopped for a beer or similar during a race?
    I was racing along and the three gentlemen who were running alongside me suddenly said, ‘I fancy a beer’ and they all stopped – as a teetotaller and somewhat worried about the cut-offs I meandered on. When. looked them up on the race results they had all finished, albeit with only a few minutes to spare, but they finished – probably pissed as farts!
  73. Do non-runners groan when you tell a running story?
    As a pseudo-hermit I’m rather lucky that I don’t speak to many people but those that I do come across often have that glazed expression if I mention running. My grandmother prior to her death would simply cut me off mid-sentence and start a different topic and the GingaNinja just ignores me.gptempdownload-6
  74. Shall we do a bit of running?
    This is a phrase that I hear a lot and have said a lot. Late into a race your feet are mashed, your head equally so and one of the runners you might be with will say, ‘ shall we do a bit of running?’ It rarely looks like anything that most of us would consider running but given you’ve just run up three mountains across 50 miles this feels like you’re Usain Bolt crossing the 100 metre line. Shall we do a bit of running is one of the most useful phrases I’ve ever heard in an ultra and shall continue using for myself and others.
  75. What brought you to this race?
    I’m always fascinated by what inspires people to run, especially the longer races and I’ve heard lots of great and lots of mundane reasons why people choose to run ultra marathons. My favourite was a man who when asked this question said, ‘well me bruv died a month ago so I fought I’d come an run this in his memory’. I could see tears filling his eyes as he fought back the emotions. I proffered some pathetic response about my sympathies to which I he turned to me and said, ‘only kidding mate, its my local race’. Didn’t I feel a bellend.
  76. Ever ended up in hospital?
    Just once. It was my first ultra and I had broken my foot at mile 14 of the race which was supposed to be 54 miles (turned out to be 60 miles). My whole foot was purple and rotten after the race and I attended the hospital the next morning proudly wearing my race T-shirt. ‘What did you do?’ asked the nurse as she looked at the horrid foot before her. ‘Read the t-shirt,’ was my rather chuffed reply.
  77. Which goes first, head or feet?
    In my case during a race the first thing to go are my feet – my head usually stays in play for about 90% of the race, it’s just a mild shame that the 10% it dips out for is about the halfway point and if my feet have gone too then that’s a DNF in the making.
  78. How many toenails do you think you’ve lost?
    I know some lucky bastards who lose toenails on a regular basis. I have only ever lost two toenails, both on my left handside second toe – I’ve never managed to lose my big toenails despite repeated attempts to do so.
  79. Are you ritualistic pre and/or post race?
    Coffee and a poo if at all possible, if I don’t do these things then it’s not going to go that well.
  80. How often do you visit running websites?
    Far too often.
  81. What’s the dream race?
    The Barkley of course. Don’t we all dream of meeting Laz at the gate? That said there are lots of races that get recommended to you as you are running or racing – I will often recommend MIUT, the Skye Trail Ultra and The SainteLyon but I’ve had things like Cape Wrath, the Dragons Back and others suggested to me and I know that my list only gets longer and Im not getting any younger.
  82. As a kid did you have a favourite pair of trainers?
    I didn’t have a specific pair that I loved but my favourites were always Adidas which is why I suppose I gravitated to them when I was looking for my first ‘real’ running shoe – the Adidas Adios (£67.00 – 2012). I remember a pair of Fila Pump trainers that had this inflatable front section which were cool and I remember my first pair of Adidas Torsion which I genuinely believed would make me go as fast as The Flash.gptempdownload-19
  83. Do you believe in walking the hills?
    Rule number one of ultra running: walk the hills.
    Rule number two of ultra running: walk the hills fast
    rule number of ultra running: never sit down
  84. You must run you own race right?
    It doesn’t matter how far into a race you are you can’t run someone else race with them – yes you can chat while it is suitable to do so but if you try and run at their pace, their strategy then the wheels are likely to come off. Ultra running is not quite the same as its shorter siblings – other races you can run someone else race and I find it often helpful to do so but the chances are you’re only going to be hanging on to their coat tails or holding back for a short(isn) period of time. Imagine trying to keep up with someone for a sustained period, it is not practical – so always run your own race.
  85. Ooooo where did you get that <insert kit>?
    Kit jealousy is something I get all the time – I’ll see a pair of trainers I’ve never heard of or a race pack that’s new to me and I’ll often grab a photograph or catch up to runner and ask them what the hell it is. I remember being on the way to work in shirt and tie and suddenly this man came running by and he was wearing one of the Raidlight Olmo vests – it was something that looked so comfortable and so after he was about 100 metres further along I turned on my heel and gave chase. When I caught him he continued running but was at the very least willing to tell me the name of the bag and most importantly how comfy he found it. I’d ordered one before I got to the office that day.
  86. Ever wanted to start up a race?
    I have small aspirations to set up a race and lots of the runners I know who started about the same time as me either have the desire to set up a race or have done so. I feel my life remains too busy to allow me to fully commit to the idea of starting a race but I have a few ideas about where, when and distances. I’m not saying I’d be any good as a Race Director – it is a tough job that requires outstanding organisational and people skills. It occurs to me that you need to have a skin as thick as a Rhinos and you’ve got to be ready for any eventuality and to lose money. Despite all of these things I still rather fancy a crack at it and the Scottish race calendar has a few spaces that could make for perfect opportunities. We’ll see what happens.
  87. How often do you buy new kit?
    Far too often
  88. What’s your favourite checkpoint food?
    Once on a hundred mile race there was houmous at about mile 84 and made all the difference to me finishing.
  89. Where were your favourite volunteers?
    All volunteers are amazing – because they volunteer but my favourite were probably the guys at the Falkirk Ultra. That said there have been some other memorable checkpoint volunteers – the St Peters Way teams were incredible and the efficiency of the teams at the SainteLyon was something special but Falkirk had a certain something that no other race had and the event and the volunteers will live long in the memory.
  90. What was your favourite medal?
    My favourite medal is always a difficult choice, the first marathon medal is special because of the memories it brings but it is probably trumped by my first ultra medal which always sits proudly near the top of my medal pile. The White Cliffs 50 tore me apart but I survived and afterwards I was set on a road that has brought me a million different memories and experiences.
  91. Do you ever buy kit from the evil Sports Direct?
    I love winding people up and I also hate Sports Direct – so I will often ask them if they shop there and if the answer is yes I usually spend the next few minutes telling them all about the benefits of Decathlon and independent sports retailers – usually being able to list the nearest independent running retailer to their location. When I lived in London, if I had time to kill, I would go up to the running footwear section and hang around until a customer service adviser would finish speaking to one of the potential customers – at this point I would pounce and tell the person where they could get more accurate advice, better, cheaper footwear and they should run out of the shop now. I used to do this in their Oxford Street flagship store and their Piccadilly Circus store – I heard so much rubbish spoken about running shoes that I felt it my obligation to send business to other places. This is one of my often shared tales when out on the trail.
  92. If your kids wanted to follow you into ultra running would you advise them to do it?
    There is lots of conflict on this one within the running community I think, you talk to people and they say that ultra running positives will always outweigh the negatives and I mostly agree with this but there are people that I’ve met who hope their beloved offspring find something else to do because they understand the pain of injury and absence and lets not forget that many of us, myself included are obsessives about long distance running and/or racing – which isn’t always a healthy thing. However, the thing that tends to get universally agreed upon is that having active and healthy kids is definitely a positive. I do wonder if my little one will one day follow me into what I consider to be the family trade, we shall see.
  93. Who was the first professional athlete who inspired you?
    That’s a difficult one because I initially thought it was Steve Cram but that’s probably not true, it could well have been Ian Rush former Liverpool FC striker but then as I carried on thinking about it the answer became very clear – it was Zola Budd. I remember her running barefoot and being diminutive and having this thick curly dark hair. She didn’t appear to be like any other athlete I had ever seen and I admired her and wanted to be her. As I’ve gotten older and you get to know other names like Scott Jurek or Gary Cantrell learn to take bits from each of their own inspirational tales but the story and memory of Zola Budd will always have a special place in my heart.
  94. Do PBs & PWs still matter to you?
    The last time a PB or a PW bothered me was the Royal Parks Half Marathon in 2013. I had high hopes that I could break my own time – but I was about 90 seconds out and this was about the same time that I was moving to the super long distance running and so I stopped being worried about how long something took me. These days my main concern is meeting the cut-offs imposed by race directors but even this is less important than having a nice time
  95. Other than the race medal what other mementos do you keep from a race?
    For me I keep everything, race numbers, paperwork, trinkets, sometimes a stone from the course
  96. Do you lurk in Facebook groups looking at other runners posts but never posting yourself?
    I used to do this but the blog gives me a reason to comment and I enjoy supporting other runners out there. I try not to give advice unless it is something I have direct experience of and am always keen to remind those I would advice to is that I’m a terrible runner and you should listen to me at your peril.
  97. Do you get lost easily?
    My special skill in life is to not know where am I, how I got there or more importantly how to get back. I can have an accurate GPS device and an accurate route and I’ll still get it wrong – often by quite some significant way. I once got stopped by a fellow racer who said, ‘I hope you’re not following my mate because I’m lost.’ I had been following him – we both ended up doubling back about 3 miles – that distance was most unwanted on a 50 miler.
  98. Which race pleasantly surprised you the most?
    I’m quite picky about the races I do – especially now I can drive, the world is my lobster but there have been a few that have really surprised me by just how brilliant they were compared to my expectations. The most surprising was probably the Medway 10km, a little race in Kent that I rolled up to with zero expectations and it turned out to be an absolute blast. The route was windy, mixed, filled with interest and elevation, the support was magnificent and the track based finish was amazing – especially a sprint against a kid who was about half my age and I spun ahead of inches from the line. You could ready about the Medway 10km here

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  99. Which was your favourite landscape to run in?
    There is so much beauty in the world that this is a really difficult one to answer. When the snow is covering everything then I would have to say that northern Finland in the arctic circle is truly one of the most spectacular places I’ve ever run. Right up there with that though are the hills of Madeira which are outstandingly beautiful.
  100. How long does it take you to recover enough to eat after a race?
    I’m not very good at eating post race – my trick has become finding a McDonalds chocolate milkshake at the earliest available opportunity, who doesn’t like that.

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There is a really weird sensation about rolling up the start line of a race and being the only person there, I suppose this would make me the both first and last finisher in the race I was runningbut the Pike and Back (Virtual) Half Marathon had much more meaning than just a run, this was a run that filled with history, emotion and of course mud.

I left my home in Scotland at about 7am with the aim to start running around lunchtime and hopefully avoid those who might be considering running the virtual race on the course at the original designated time – it’s about a four and half hour journey and I broke this up with a swift stop at a McDonalds for a ‘nourishing’ breakfast.

I was driving the little car as it was just me travelling and as the sun beat down on the car I thought it was going to be a scorcher for the run, something I had not counted on when I had been packing my kit (I was all waterproofs and survival blankets). I arrived bang on time despite a couple of little mis-steps in my directions.

The man in the car next me glared as I pulled up next to him he tossed his cigarette out of the car and wound his window up – presumably because he believved I had arrived to lick COVID 19 all over him which couldn’t be any further from the truth.

Anyway I had a Tesco pastry and a bit of chocolate milkshake to make sure I was fully energisted and then quickly got changed into my kit. I had vague memories of Moss Bank from my childhood, although I’m not from Bolton I do know the area quite well from visits as a child and Winter Hill is a well known landmark but I couldn’t remember ever being allowd to go up it (we were not a very active family). We also used to come here when I was child to a restaurant called Smithhills – it was a dickensian themed place and for our birthdays my grandparents would take us there as a treat. This event, virtual or not was loaded with memories for me and on the day before I led the funeral to my grandmother  this was rather a poignant thing I was doing (you could read about this in a separate blog post here).

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I set up the navigation on my Suunto and started to amble around aimlessly looking for the start (this did not bode well for following the route). Eventually after a few minutes of groping around the park I came to a small opening in the bushes which looked like the kind of place that a race might begin – Suunto agreed and so, after a couple of pictures, we set off.

Now lets be fair Suunto and the breadcrumb trail is at best, ‘not bad’ so as I ambled up the hill towards what I considered to be the route I figured quickly that I had made a mistake – what gave this away was that I found myself launching my poor, knackered body off a wall and onto the street below and then around a few narrow winding streets and then some steps where I finally picked up what was probably the route. There were clues that this might be the route, the first was the winding river and the trail in the distance, the second was that my watch finally looked like it was going in the right direction and thirdly two fellow virtual half marathiners came thundering past me.

Aha I thought I have found my way.

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Now I really hadn’t done that much research about the race or route, I’d left it to the rose tinted specs to assume that this would be something I’d like to do. I’d glanced at the elevation profile which looked like there were two small hills at about the mid-point of the route and the rest of it was pretty flat. It was only as I was about 600 metres in that I realised I had rather misjudged the situation and I had rather misjudged the route. Effectively the route was made actually made up of two tough climbs on a variety of surfaces and then in reverse it was made of a couple of hanrd going downhills and one really tough as old boots uphill that really sapped every last bit of energy you had!

The first three and bit kilometres of the route were mainly tarmac, quiet roads (or they should have been given the COVID-19 trouble), the elevation felt really tough. The toughness wasn’t just the route, this was very much a combination of a long drive from Scotland and a lack of training in recent weeks, my lack of training has been in part to COVID-19 but mainly due to the stress of work and my grandmother dying and having to do all the arrangements from this and now I was feeling it.

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The road seemed never ending and I did for a moment wonder if this was a trail half marathon but then glinting in the distance I saw the outline of a gate and a route on to the rolling trails around Winter Hill and Rivington Pike. I crossed the gate and bade the cyclists a good morning as I passed by them and then continued onward and most importantly upward. At this point we had moved from the tarmac to hard packed and stoney trail. I bimbled along, stopping only to allow past me, faster moving traffic and to take pictures of the truly spectacular surroundings. In the distance I now had clear sight of the Winter Hill transmission mast and realised that I despite having been here many times before I had probably only ever seen this at a distance.

I pressed on across the rocks, the mud and the water, the route had now gone from a bit of a slog to being genuinely fun and I was finally enjoying the route – especially as the sun was shining but also lovely and cool, a perfect running day. My feet for the first time that day felt free to unleash a little bit of pace inspite of the uphill – this is why I run I thought. I found myself feeling rather jaunty depsite the situation we all find ourselves in and I could simply revel in the reason I was here – to pay a small tribute to my departed (but much unloved) granny.

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I skipped down the stony path and alongside the transmittor and marvelled at the scale of the structure that had once (and may well still) send out things like the signal for Granada Television, I felt like a young boy in the back seat of grandfathers car as a ran beside the mast, the only thing missing was the twinkling red lights that adorn it as the lights go down.

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I assumed that Rivington Pike could not be that far from the mast and in the distance I could see a small structure which I asssumed was the destination and turnaround point. I therefore joined a narrow piece of tarmac and wended my way downwards and started arching away from the small structure, that was not Rivington Pike – oh dear. In the distance I could see a flurry of people around what looked like a small fortification or castle – that was Rivington Pike and I was what looked like several miles away from it. Thankfully this was now downhill but my knees don’t much like tarmac and they were feeling the stress of the pounding they were taking and although my Lone Peak 4.0 are well built they aren’t suited for sustained running on tarmac.

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I ran down and down, and down and down and then weirdly what felt like more down and down, yet, and this was the strange thing – Rivington Pike was up – totally in opposition to my descent.

However, eventually my downward spiral stopped and I returned to hard packed trails – here it felt very busy, lots of people travelling up to the Rivington Pike and dusty hard packed trails gave the illusion that everybody had a dry and dusty cough. It was rather interesting to watch as people covered up their faces as they walked past you or as I ran past them. I mean yes I was breathing more heavily than most of the people there but then I was exerting more pressure on my poor old body. I was mostly being sensible and passing people at a distance but one couple, who were wearing face masks, moved away from me at 90 degrees and zipped up their heavy duty winter jackets to fully cover their mouth – which I felt was a little excessive given that I was never closer than about 20ft away.

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Anyway I hurled myself on to the final climb of Rivington Pike and chatted (at a safe social distance) to a local cyclist, both of us wondering why the hell we were here. I waved at him as I left him behind and continued my climb to the top which was awash with people. I stopped long enough to take a couple of pictures and then made a swift sprint down the front of the Pike knowing that an absolute shit of a hill was waiting for me.

I’ll be perfectly honest, not a lot of running was done back up the hill, my legs were absolutely cream crackered and all I wanted was to be back at the car and maybe stop at the ice cream van who was awaiting customers in the park. I was also very keen to relieve my bladder of its contents but given the throngs of people that were festooned around the route and the lack of any cover meant that I really had to tie a knot in it and hold on. It was here that I noted I had probably made a routing error on the way out and added several hundred metres to my journey as my beloved Suunto insisted that I head across the wet boggy trail. Of course this was music to my ears – get off the tarmac, get back in touch with nature and as cold mud sprayed up the back of me and my feet found themselves submerged I thought, ‘bliss’. I came across a father and son who were clearly not geared for this kind of trail and looking rather unhappy at the prospect of having to continue through this but they managed a cheery smile as I ran by them.

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Soon though I was back on the path and facing the Winter Hill mast, I waved goodbye to it as I turned away from it and pushed on as fast as I could knowing that it was mostly downhill all the way home. However, as I’ve indicated the route was hard going and even in a downhill situation if you’re undertrained and exhausted then it is ging to be hard. But with the wind on my back and surprising cheeriness in my heart I ran happily off the hill and back to road which seemed so long ago now.

When I arrived back to the gate it felt like I had really achieved something and I gently ran down the road, attemptin not to punish my old nears any more than I needed to. I was so close now and in the distance I could see the park where all of this had started. Down, down, down I went – bit like a first date that has gone too well – and as I arrived back to the point I met the earlier virtual runners I felt a tremendous sense of relief. Yes I’d been slow but I’d had good reason not to rush this one – I had time and I wanted time to be able to reflect on everything that is currently going on both personally and globally. I crossed the finish line to the sound of silence, or rather the sound of nature and actually rather enjoyed it.

I’d completed the Pike and Back Half Marathon and I was pleased to have done it.

Distance: Half Marathon
Type: Virtual (due to COVID-19)
Ascent: Bloody Hell
Date: March 2020
Location: Bolton
Terrain: Very mixed
Tough Rating: 3/5

Conclusions
I would traditionally write a full breakdown of the event but that is impossible given the nature of this one in its virtual format. What I will say is that full credit goes to the team of Time2Run Events for allowing runners to complete the event virtually – they could simply have said ‘cancelled’ but as many Race Directors have done they have looked for alternatives and we should be grateful for that.

The route was really tough, the elevation was challenging, the mixed terrain meant that shoe choice was a nightmare and if you really weren’t prepared for this then you were going to have your arse handed to you and mine was handed to me gift wrapped.

Had I not been attending my grannies funeral, and referencing the race in the eulogy I had written for the following day, then I probably wouldn’t have come down for the race I would have transferred my entry to next year, done the training and actually run much better but there was something special about this, about doing it alone, abour forcing myself to push on. I’m an ultra runner really and the half marathon distance is my least favourite race length so to come here and really enjoy myself is really quite wonderful.

There was also something joyous about finishing the ‘race’ first and last – that’ll make me laugh for the rest of my days and I feel like this is a medal I have really earned. I will looking forward to receiving the medal knowing that whenever I look at it with all the others at the top of my staircase that it will bring back a smorgasbord of feelings and that is the sign of a great thing.

The one thing I did notice was how friendly people were in comparison to the Scottish races I run, up here almost all the runners, hikers, walkers, etc have time to smile or have a laugh and a joke with you but despite smiling and saying hello to everyone I went past there was something of a lack of response. Now some of it I’ll put down to COVID-19 but I was rather surprised that the north of England, famed for its friendliness, was a little less than I’ve gotten used to in Scotland. That said, those people that did wave back or say hello or smile back at me were warm and wonderful, I was just surprised by how many people simply didn’t bother.

If you’ve never run this race before then can I urge you to look up Time2Run Events and sign up to this most wonderful of race – even if like me you have to travel down from Scotland to do it, I will certainly be considering entering again for next year.

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I used to look on at the ultra marathoners who completed the Centurion Running Grandslam with a little bit of jealousy but never fancied doing it myself despite really wanting to test myself in a series.

Why?

Well I rather fell out of love with Centurion Running and stopped racing with them – no skin off their noses, they’ve got ultra runners and ultra running wannabies banging down their door to get in to their races. I never felt like it was a community I was comfortable in, now this isn’t to say that Centurion don’t put on good events – they do, really good, but they stopped being for me, a socially awkward introvert.

So, given that Centurion was probably the biggest UK Grandslam in the south of England I probably wasn’t going to get to do a series of races in this format.

Fast forward 5 years and much has changed I’m living in Scotland and a driving licence has been achieved which has brought access to all sorts of lovely new race opportunities including Hardmoors and GB Ultras. Now while the first 18 months here have been about getting settled, buying a new home, etc I’ve become determined that after a rubbish running in 2019 that 2020 would be a year of interesting race opportunities.

And so my road to a grandslam began.

Late in 2019 I came across Ranger Ultras who race in and around the Peak District and they immediately caught my eye. It was after my failure at the Ochil Ultra that I signed up for the Y3P (Yorkshire Three Peaks) that Ranger Ultras put on. However,  it turned out that injury and illness would conspire against me and so on the day before the race I pulled out.

However, the description of their event intrigued me and there was something rather ‘old school’ about them that I really liked.

I put them on my ‘must look into for 2020’ list of race providers, though by this time 2020 was pretty well formed with 5 or 6 ultra marathons already booked in. But I figured I’d like to go back and give the Yorkshire Three Peaks a bash given I’d missed it just a few weeks earlier.

Roll forward to the start of this year and there are positives starting to show themselves – I’ve been running a bit (woohoo), I’ve finished four races of which two were 50km each – not bad for a bloke, who if he were a building would be described as condemned or at the very least dilapidated. I kept sourcing new events to do this year and interestingly kept managing to squeeze them in – but not in the months that had the races of the inaugural Ranger Ultras Grandslam. Hmmmm.

In my head I began working out the logistics – the Peak District is a reasonable distance from Scotland and with a large family trip to Canada this year I  wouldn’t have oodles of annual leave to use up in travelling to and from events.

The races needed to be of a distance that I could travel down to after work on a Friday night and still be fresh enough come Saturday morning to race – as criteria that precludes anything over about 60 miles.

Thankfully the first race was 57km along the Pennine Bridleway – a perfect distance as I look to build up again, a perfect time of year as it should be rather windy and wet without too much sunshine and with a reasonably generous time allowance it should be both achievable and challenging.

The second and third race are then not until nearer the year end which again works for me (mostly). The Yorkshire Three Peaks takes up October and at 100km will serve as an excellent test of my running in preparation for the year ending Cheviot Goat.

Missing the Y3P last year was a real annoyance as I had entered late in the day and had to pull out even later and I feel that as a runner who has covered a lot of ground across the UK this iconic route should have been done at least once.

Maybe that’s why it is this grandslam over some of the others – The Peak District is a place that is relatively unknown to me, they’re new and I like the challenge of new. I like the adventure of seeing the sun go down on a new horizon, I enjoy the feel of a new ground below my feet though I am confident that by the time I have run the weekend double header of the white and dark peaks at the end of November I will be fully sated and probably and bit angry at The Peaks but I will hopefully feel that I fully adventured there (at least for a little while).

This adventure is very much about continuing my journey to find out who I am and who I want to be.

I moved my life from London so that I would be able to do stuff like this, so that I could fill my boots with things that make me smile and things that can inspire me to consider joining races like The Spine or The Race Across Scotland. I have need to push myself to limit of my physical ability and perhaps more importantly my mental ability – both have which have being a bit lardy over recent years.

I feel that the grandslam will make me work harder and keep my mental endurance on track – vital for both my running and my day-to-day life.

If I do get through the first challenge of the PB57 I will know that I then need to get through, amongst others, the Ultra Scotland and the Loch Ness 360 because these will form the basis of my fitness to take on the rest of the series. Each completion will hopefully build confidence going into the next – the tough times will come if something goes wrong in one of these events as it did last year and I will be working hard to stop one bad event unravelling the rest of the year.

But let’s look for positives…

The bad news is that attempting to scratch the grandslam itch may only make that itch worse – I can feel it. Success here (and by success I mean completing it) will make me want to take a crack at the Hardmoors series of races. However, I have no idea if I will achieve the Ranger Ultras Grandslam, my failure rate suggests that there is a good chance that something will go wrong during at least one of the races but I am hopeful that the risk of missing out on the grandslam finish will push me onward towards some form of glorious end.

Ha.

Check out Ranger Ultras here and get involved

Related & Recent

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Time: 8 Hours
Target: 8 Laps

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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!

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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
  • Location: Falkirk
  • Cost: £30
  • Entrants: 350 (inc. relay runners)
  • Terrain: Muddy, undulating
  • Tough Rating: 2.5/5

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Route
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!)

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Organisation
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.

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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!

Volunteers
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.

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Awards
Lovely hoody, lovely buff, Tunnocks teacake and an awesome bespoke medal. Do I need to say anymore? Brilliant

Conclusion
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.

Related

‘I want mummy’ came the little voice of ASK as tears rolled down her freezing cold face. But only half a mile in and half a mile to go we were not stopping.

After the Tyndrum 24 and the Vogrie 5km I turned my attention to something a little less about me and entered ASK into a family mile race in the shadow of Arthur’s Seat in Edinburgh. Given the UK and my adopted home of Scotland had just been rudely removed from the European Union I figured what better way to improve my weekend than spend time with my daughter earning another medal.

The race was part of a festival of running, there were some UK wide university XC championships on as well as a more general 5km race for the public, a toddler dash and the family mile that we had entered.

It was a chilly and windy day when we arrived at the delightful Holyrood Park and we were keen to find some shelter and our number. It was incredibly busy with runners across the various races milling around or queuing for one thing or another. Eventually we found the correct tent and grabbed our race number – I was only moderately concerned when I asked the volunteer when the family mile started that he didn’t know – but I let it slide knowing full well that days like this are stressful for organisers and volunteers.

ASK and I hid in the sanctuary of the tent for a while given that we’d had a rather convoluted journey to Holyrood Park but once warmed up a bit we headed outside to watch some of the University Cross Country Championships happening – the ladies event was well underway and we were fortunate enough to be able to cheer home some of the back markets but also head to the finish line and witness the astonishing feats of the winning ladies. Bathed in mud and caked up to their eyeballs in the brown gooey stuff I asked ASK if she would one day like to be like them. Her reply was an enthusiastic ‘ooooo yes’. Whether this was to placate a father she believes wants her to be a runner or not Is up for debate but I live in hope that she picks an active lifestyle for herself.

Anyway after watching these awesome runners and the toddler dash(which brought back lots of great memories of early races with ASK) we slowly headed over to the start line, we spoke to another family who were running and chatted about what brought us here and why our kids were keen to race, it was nice to hear another families reasons for rocking up. We lined up at the start line, spoke to other runners and wished them all luck during the event and after a short warm up we were sent into the race.

The mile has been my favourite race distance for years and years, it is fun, it’s a blast and you can turn it into a real gut buster in ways that you can’t with other distances and when ASK and I thundered away from the start we made swift progress from the back to the front. Watching my daughter striding in the way she does is something of a joy and she has both form and technique that I have never been able to master.

We were thundering down the tarmac towards the Holyrood Palace turnoff and I could see all the Scottish flags waving in the distance and thought to myself – I wonder if this is s Pro-EU rally, must check this out later. But my gaze was suddenly averted towards ASK who was slowing, I tried to gee her up with words of encouragement but then she simply burst into tears. I stopped running and knealt down beside her

‘What’s wrong’ I asked
“I want mummy’ she replied through deep wet sobs.
‘No you don’t,’ I countered, ‘you want a good time, a medal and to show this off to mummy when we get home don’t you? Mum will be so proud of you’

I gave her GoPro which always makes her feel more important when we race together and she took pictures as we came up to speed again. The little inclines up to the turnaround point was reasonably steep but I reminded her that every hill we go up we eventually have to go down and so at the turnaround we hurtled away, catching the runners ahead of us and looking to make up the ground we had lost during our stop.

In the distance I could see the finish line and there was a lovely bounce in the form of supporters on the course cheering all the children home. ASK hurled forward faster than she had at any point during the event and I told her to move ahead of me so she could finish her race with a flourish. She was flying and I could feel my pride swelling as she threw herself across the line and then promptly burst into a tears.

I once more knealt down and comforted my racing daughter who received her medal (and from me some Kinder chocolate), she was also provided with one of the Edinburgh Winter Run beanie hats which, once she had calmed down, wore proudly.

I asked her what was wrong and all she would say is that, ‘It’s too hard and I want mummy.’ We came to the conclusion that she gets a bit anxious before racing as this isn’t the first time she has cried on the finish line and she never struggles over the distances. Something as a parent that I need work on to give her greater confidence going to the start line but that is something for next time.

Regardless she soon forgot her woes and was very happy with her medal and immediately wanted to do it again.

Both ASK and I would definitely recommend going along for one of the races but it was a very busy set of races and with University XC championships going on it was made even more complicated, a little bit more signage would have helped and a larger bag drop as the queue for collection was massive and slow moving. The Family Mile and the Toddler Dash were both really nice additions and Holyrood Park is a delightful place to do it. ASK did tell me that she wanted to come back and climb (amongst others) Arthur’s Seat.

Post Race
As we left Holyrood Park I decided that we would investigate the sea of EU and Scottish flags and when we reached the Government buildings we saw that it was indeed a rally about ‘Tories Out’, ‘IndyRef2’ & ‘RejoinEU’. ASK and I joined in and spoke to many of the lovely people outside the parliament buildings about our reasons for supporting them and I spent much time explaining the importance to ASK about what was going on here. All in all a good day.

img_1777In 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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

We had made it, I had made it.

Overview
Distance: 60km
Cost: £65
Location: Ambleside
Date: September 2019
Tough Rating: 3.5/5

Route
What they said about the route…

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.

Organisation
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.

Kit
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.

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Goodies
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.

Value
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.

Special Mentions
I owe this finish to Keith – I would not have made it without you. Thank you.

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Conclusion
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.

Check out the race details here

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‘I’m not a people person, it’s fair to say I mostly don’t like people – which I guess is why I’m here and not on the South Downs Way 50 today – I wanted a race where I can be mainly unknown and anonymous’. A comment I made to one of the runners at the wonderfully fun Testway Ultra this weekend – a race I’m very glad I attended, despite the state I find myself in now.

Let’s roll back to about 5.57am the morning of the race as I jumped behind the wheel of ‘Spusum’ my little Aygo with ASKruns and the GingaNinja in tow. As we thundered out of Kent I remember saying to myself that ‘I mustn’t let the trauma of driving force my shoulders up around my ears’ but that didn’t happen, I recall saying to myself ‘lucky that my cold had cleared up for the race today’ it hadn’t and at the first gear change as I felt my hamstring a bit I remembered how destroyed the Silkin Way has left me. Let’s say that I had a few concerns about my appearance at the Testway Ultra.

However, with the Fellsman a mere three weeks away, the West Highland Way Challenge only seven weeks away and the Arran ultra only ten weeks away I felt I needed to take the risk of running a reasonable distance event that had a decent element of toughness.

Welcome to the Testway Ultra.

On paper (or rather GPX) this doesn’t look tough at all, there’s more than enough trail (although a couple of significant tarmac sections), the elevation profile suggested that although not flat there were no hideous climbs, conditions were a bit muddy but nothing that any trail marathon or ultra runner wouldn’t have seen before and so you’d go into this thinking that it was a pleasant 44 mile trot.

Ha! The Testway Ultra has a few surprises up its sleeves though to ensure that you were getting good value for money and in short, I can happily report that this was awesomely good fun.

When I arrived at the start I grabbed my number and then went and hid on the back seat of the car away from the rain, dipping out only when the toilet queue had subsided enough to squeeze out a pre race number one, but sadly not a number two (a problem that would come back to bite about 15 miles later in the race). The start was well organised, very efficient and all the runners were slowly marshalled to the start line at the top of the hill on time and in good order. Here I met the amazing runner @TonySharkey who I’ve known a bit through Twitter and I find it’s always lovely to meet the people who you look at with great admiration. He was clearly going to hammer out a time that would make me look like I wasn’t moving but we chatted for a few minutes and when the start came we wished each other well.

For the record he did hammer out a fantastic a time!

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As for me I set off at an unusually swift pace and given that my training has taken something of a nosedive of late this seemed an odd choice. However, the beautiful setting and the rolling vistas ahead of me ensured I was in good spirits as I bimbled my way through the miles. The weather was being cool but dry or as I would like to say, the weather was being kind and the route was very runnable. This was a far cry from the tarmac trails of two weeks ago, my hamstring and groin were in seventh heaven…

Well for the first miles…

I’ve come to the conclusion that I must have a self destruct button somewhere as about five miles in I felt all the angst of pain running through my back simply explode. There wasn’t an ‘ache, ache, ache, bang’ – no there was just ‘bang’. I looked around at my surroundings and pressed heavily into the area where there was pain – it was tender, it was sore and the resting on my back of my last comfortable race vest was causing shooting pains of agony. Bugger.

I looked down at my watch and saw that the number of kilometres run was a mere 8.56 – some way short of the required 70(ish)km. I slowed for a while to gather my thoughts… injury, Fellsman, West Highland Way, another DNF, pain, early into the race…

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I decided that I had to at least checkpoint 1, if nothing else rescue would require longer than it would take to hobble to a limp CP1 finish. I did however promise myself that if I arrived into the checkpoint in good time then I would push on through to CP2.

Of course, I ended up arriving into the first stop in good time and after two cups of cola I headed out quickly (basically before I convinced myself to DNF) and issuing a million thanks to the volunteers and supporters. The issue here was that the first checkpoint wasn’t 10 miles away from the start, it was about 9 miles and second checkpoint wasn’t 10 miles either this was at least a couple extra and this resulted in a problem.

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Checkpoint 1 to checkpoint 2 was where it started to heat up, temperature wise and trouble wise. The cold I’d been recovering from added fuel to my already injury laden self. I was taking on lots of fluid but I soon realised that my 600ml wasn’t going to be sufficient and began rationing myself. Thankfully I had the lovely course to encourage myself with and a lovely runner called Dave, who would be my sometime companion over the next few miles but with my back in pieces, water running low I did wonder what the hell else could go wrong! It seems that in my head somebody was listening and decided that, about 15 miles in, that I needed a loo stop but with no really discreet place to go I decided to amble ever forwards – a decision I would regret long into the night as my efforts in the Vaseline department had been left rather wanting and lets put it like this the rusty bullet hole seemed more like a fresh shooting had happened in the chaffing department.

However, all this said my spirits were surprisingly good and this was mainly because I knew that I would reach checkpoint 2 long after it was sensible to continue – sadly I didn’t. I was well within the time I had allocated to myself and as I arrived at checkpoint 2 I felt a pang of, ‘oh god I’ve still got another marathon to go’. The great thing was that the company I’d been keeping to this point had been lovely and the ace guys and gals at the checkpoint were amazing – listening to my endless list of aches of pains as I munched my way through their jelly beans and cola.

Still the weather was fine, I had survived my water shortage and it seemed rather silly to drop out now. For a little while I picked up the pace again to see if a different stride pattern might help alleviate the stress on my back (it didn’t) and I bimbled my way past another lovely volunteer (all of whom I tried to have a little joke or three with as they clapped and cheered me on). I strode purposefully up the hill where I found another lovely volunteer giving me directions down towards a river section, ‘6 miles of flat canal like running’ he promised. I’m sure he meant this as a kindness but to me the flat would be a killer and as I stomped off down the hill I began a slow and steady trudge towards the third checkpoint.

I decided that as time was on my side and I wasn’t going to be winning any prizes for my pace I’d slow down for this section and save my legs for what I suspected would be a more difficult back end.

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This turned out to be the first really good decision I had made and I strode purposefully through the route with bits of running thrown in for good measure and though there had been a few miles of running by a river and busy roads the route remained mostly reasonably interesting and there were enough passers-by offering thumbs up to feel like a nice atmosphere on what was fast becoming my sweaty evening stroll.

Soon though I drifted into the third checkpoint, the bad news was that cola was in short supply and but I had thankfully arrived before the glut of runners behind me (sorry guys it was me who finished the cola off). It was here that I met the runner who defined the remainder of my race and helped ensure that I finished my latest foray into the ultra marathon world. However, first let me mention the lovely Louise (a lady I had met at the start of the event) and we crossed paths again when she caught me up at around mile 30, we found ourselves running together for a little while and chewing the fat over the ridiculousness of our race schedules and the silly things we often find ourselves doing. However, somewhere along the line I lost Louise as I had also been chatting with Kain and Francesca (I did check the spelling of the names of both of my fellow runners!) the other two runners who I’d fallen in with.

As I said earlier at the third checkpoint I’d met the runner who would pretty much define my race and this was the very wonderful Francesca. A lady with a quick wit, a cheery and chatty personality and a desire to finish. It seemed we were both travelling at roughly the same speed and so found ourselves developing a groove through the tough final stages. Our chatter and laughter pushed us through the worst of the mud and the water and whenever things would get a bit tough we’d throw out a bit of a funny line or words of encouragement. I’ve been Francesca – new to the ultra world but keen and determined to finish, she reminded me a little bit of Elaine, that I ran the latter stages of the Green Man Ultra (read about that here) with and that race and that partnership had been a real favourite of mine. This experience wold turn out to be just as rewarding, hopefully for both of us, I can certainly say that having the support of a fellow runner and somebody to take my mind off the hideous pain my back was in gave me all the drive I needed to push on. It’s fair to say that my running improved alongside Francesca and I found myself willing to push on that little bit faster whenever we were able. It is also true that the latter stages of the race though were my favourite as I love nothing more than sloshing about in the mud and the crap, picking my way through the route and bouncing through the worst of the mud, sending it cascading up and down my legs!

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As the miles came crashing down we once again felt that the accuracy of the checkpoint locations wasn’t quite as up to scratch as the rest of the race! We rolled into the final checkpoint with Suunto reading as less than 3km to the finish but with the volunteers reporting that there were 3 miles remaining – the truth is that it was somewhere in between, but when you’re tired and sore all you want is some assurance that you need to go no further than is absolutely necessary. Once more at the checkpoint I played the roll of flirty jester, offering a nod and wink to the lovely volunteer with the wonderful beard and twinkled my smile at the lady I’d joked earlier could have taken my place in the race – there should always be time for a bit of fun with the volunteers.

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Anyway, we set off for home, the knowledge that we would make it before dark was also handy as one of us was short of a headtorch and I was concerned how we might fare if we lost the light before the end of the race. Thankfully we ran across the wooden path over the marshland in excellent time and took a few seconds as we re-entered civilisation to ensure we were going the right way. A gentleman began walking towards us, very nicely dressed I noted and gave s a hearty thumbs up and welcome, ‘300m and you’re there’ – I could have kissed him, instead I simply hugged him.

As we headed off I recounted the tale of Jimmy McKenna, the only person that ever served as running coach to me (I was a mere 7 years old) and one lesson has always stuck with me, ‘it doesn’t matter how you’ve run, always finish strong’ and so with uncharacteristic ease I slipped into full throttle mode with Francesca and we hurtled towards the finish and ensured that we crossed the line together.

What a day.

Key points

  • Distance: 44 miles
  • Profile: Deceptively challenging
  • Date: April 2018
  • Location: Coombe Gibbet
  • Cost: £50
  • Terrain: Trail (and a some tarmac)
  • Tough Rating: 2/5

Route: The route was really lovely in places with nothing unpleasant (well except for a flat six miles in the middle but I think most people would enjoy this as a respite for the undulation). The views in parts were beautiful and the trail was mixed up enough that it never felt like it was going to get dull. The excellent thing about the route was that the good parts were spread throughout the route and the less interesting parts were equally spread. Sometimes a race can have all of its excitement in a very confined space but the route of the Testway is fun and varied. It is also much tougher than the GPX file suggests and I saw many a tough race shirt on the start line (Dragons Back, Centurion and MdS finishers) so go into this expecting a fun and rewarding day at the office.

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Organisation: Organisation can be a tough one to get right, especially on a point to point when you have to ferry runners to the start early in the morning but Andover Trail Runners showed real skill in handling the event and the runners. Number collection was easy and the on the course volunteers who manned all the major road crossings were awesome. The provided GPX file was a welcome addition to the race pack and the on course markings were pretty good mostly (although it was noted that towards the end there were significantly less of them to aid direction – though signs do get removed by scallywags periodically).

Support: The team at the start, the finish and on the course was excellent, thank you to all of you. The volunteers were amazing and the support crews were in fine cheer for all the runners not just their own. The checkpoints were pretty good with a decent selection of savoury and sweet items, the only minor downside was the running our of cola, but I’m sure this will be rectified for the next running. The only other comment I would add is that it might be worthwhile considering adding water stop(s) to some of the road crossings – on a hotter day 10+ miles between checkpoints can be a long distance to go if you’ve run low on water and the road crossing guys were perfectly positioned as a spare water stop – just a thought.

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Awards: Lovely medal, some awesome photographs and a great day. What more do you need?

Value for money: £50? Bargain.

Mentions: I’m not normally one for special mentions however thanks to Tony, Dave, Louise, Rachael, Louise and especially Francesca who made the Testway Ultra a really fun event for me. Oh and thanks to Sam Arnold (and the other wonderful photographer whose name eludes me) who was taking photographs of the runners and captured me doing my, ‘staring into the middle distance’, ‘moulding of a fool’, ‘Hamlet cigars advert’ and ‘Heavy Landing’.

 

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Conclusion: I’d run this again, I’d want to train a bit better for it but the whole experience left me with a generally positive feeling, the distance wasn’t so far for it be a main spring ultra marathon but it would serve as a truly great warm up for a 75 or a 100. It wold also be a great step up for trail marathon runners who fancy a nice big meaty step up. The guys at Andover Trail Runners deserve a lot of credit for putting on an event that gave so much joy and I hope it runs for many years to come. Check out Andover Trail Runners at their website

Now the big question is will my back and other issues recover enough in time for The Fellsman and the West Highland Way Challenge? Well that remains to be seen – until next time, adios and have fun running!

Gallery: Now available at ultraboygallery.wordpress.com, my photographs (and those from the race photographers) from the event.

This is a story two years in the making as the moment I finished the SainteLyon in 2015 I knew I had found ‘my’ race. My experience was so incredibly positive that I knew I would return and when entries opened in April I was waiting with my debit card to hand ready to sign up. Experience had taught me that this was unnecessary but I wanted my place confirmed as quickly as possible and within a few hours I had also uploaded the medical certificate from the UTBCN, booked my flights and begun the search for accommodation.

For more detail on how you go about the logistics can I recommend you read the 2015 report, which goes into much detail about that kind of thing.

The first half of my running year had gone quite well, finishing with a great finish at the South Wales 50 and despite failure at MIUT I was feeling tremendously positive overall going into the summer race break. However, the death of my partners mother, illness and injuries to my back meant that my return to training and racing was hampered quite badly. I didn’t show up for the return of the London to Brighton, although I rocked up to the start of the Ultra Trail Scotland: Arran this was cancelled mid race due to terrible weather conditions and I deferred my place at The Rebellion because of a hideous chest infection and a lack of preparation. This all meant that my return to the SainteLyon was incredibly undertrained in fact only just returned to training and in no way ready to face this wonderful course.

Regardless I wasn’t going to miss out and on Friday, 1st December I ambled along to the hideous Luton Airport and took the short flight to the delightful Lyon St Exupery Airport a short hop on the Rhône Express took me into the centre of the city (30mins), I bought a 72hour combined Metro, Tram and bus ticket (€15) and took the 3 minute metro ride to Saxe Gambetta where I would find my small but perfect AirBnB accommodation just two minutes from the station.

I dropped my bags down to be greeted by the sight of a Nespresso machine and some Belgian waffles and chocolate crepes! Merci Diep (the host). I grabbed a few bits like my passport and registration confirmation before heading straight out to the hall to collect my number. Another short hop on the metro and I was a five minute walk from where I needed to be – awesome.

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Security was still quite tight in France and there were bag and body searches before entry to the hall – which in light of recent history both in France and across Europe -makes sense. But once in the hall it was like a Mecca for all things trail running and I slowly wandered round deciding what I would spend some pennies on. It was lovely to see Oxsitis with a big stand and lots of products on show and while I may not wear them any longer Hoka also rolled into town with a decent showing.

Collection of my number was easy this year and I used my incredibly handy French phrase, ‘je ne comprends pas francais. parlez vous anglais?’ and I found that my French hosts once they knew I was English simply switched languages (something I am in awe of) though I did use my French language skills wherever possible. With my number collected I headed over to get some SainteLyon socks and my new much loved Buff!

And from this point I actually had some free time. I headed over to the huge shopping centre and picked up some provisions, did some late night sightseeing and then continued in this vein the following morning – touristing before settling down to an afternoon nap before the race. I then engaged in my now infamous pre race coffee ritual for a full bowel clearance and eventually I’d get round to loading up my kit up! It all seemed to be going far to smoothly.

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At about 6pm I headed down to the bus pick up point and joined the queue for one of the many buses to St Etienne. I remember in 2015 the bus was warm but the window had a drip running down it and I’d worked hard to ensure I didn’t get wet! This year the bus was a little chillier but the window didn’t leak and we arrived in good time and without incident. Security was speedy but thorough and as I had time to kill I grabbed some of the pre race snack goodies and went into the smaller of the two halls to see if I could catch a bit more sleep or at least rest. The hall was warm and filled with people but I had little trouble finding space and I folded a buff up and lay my head upon it – but I couldn’t sleep. The SainteLyon was effectively my Christmas present to myself and like a young boy I was desperate to open my present and get to running! Much like a Christmas Eve the following three hours dragged like the Hundred Years’ War! Still the hours did give me a vantage point for kit and people watching – the most interesting outfit I saw was a teenage mutant ninja turtle with full shell and this chap (as far as I know) ran the whole thing dressed like this. The STL though doesn’t attract a great deal of runners like this, they’re quite rare I would say. Most runners rock up in their favourite or best kit and I was pleased to note that many of the runners were wearing Oxsitis, Raidlight or Kalenji bags, undoubtedly the French appreciate these brands being reasonably readily available on the high street and support local brands. Shoe choices were equally local with most seeming to opt for Salomon or Kalenji – the good thing for me was I saw no Karrimor!

I’d chosen Altra for footwear and my beloved Oxsitis Hydragon for my back with a variety of OMM and Ronhill kit making up the rest, perhaps it was the kit that made me stand out as English as anyone that approached me spoke to me (generally) in my native tongue – clearly to the other runners I was not French!

Anyway to the race! The SainteLyon in its current form is a 72km race from St Etienne to Lyon, taking place the first weekend in December and setting off around midnight, you can read more about it here at Wikipedia. At around 11.30pm I drifted slowly to the start knowing that I would be starting near the back of the field but this would allow me to pick off runners later on (if I had any capacity to do so).

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The organisers though were releasing the runners in waves which meant that as I was at the back I would be one of the final runners to depart St Etienne. I could feel the cold setting in and I was geared for minimal warmth as I knew that during the race I would overheat with too many layers. I rubbed my arms periodically to retain warmth and hugged myself, while gently jigging on the spot – stopping sporadically to take photographs and make social media checks.

40 minutes later and, as promised, bang on time the music played, the horn blew and thousands of runners were released into the night. It was as magical as I remembered it, only this time there was no @kemptomslim to share the moment with and so I turned to look at the arch I had just run under and said ‘au revoir’ before turning on my heel and running into the Rhône Valley night.

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The first few kilometres are along the roads and lack any really interesting things to note other than the opportunity to catch some ground in the runners ahead of you or perhaps make some alliances to allow the hours to pass more pleasantly. I decided on the former rather than the latter and pressed firmly ahead knowing that conditions underfoot later in the race might slow me down. Perhaps the big clue as to the conditions was the fact that many runners had loaded up crampons to their race vests in preparation for cruddy conditions but at this early stage even those in their Kalenji Road shoes were running fine.

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While my French is limited I could feel the ambience of the race and the runners and there was a generally positive, goodwill feeling that swelled up around the runners in these early stages and you couldn’t help but be carried by this. For my part I darted between runners and ambled towards the trail which kicked in at around the 6km mark.

From here the light snowfall that we had seen on the sides of the road was replaced by much thicker, more dangerous, not so grippy snow and I recall as I headed down the trail that ‘bugger, this isn’t going to be as easy as last time’.

However, I am confident in my footwork and I was able to press on a little faster than those in front of me and as the kilometres marched downward toward the first checkpoint I started to feel very confident about running a good time. Despite a lack of training in the lead up to the race I was feeling surprisingly spritely too and as I hurled myself up and down the trails I was enjoying myself.

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I felt like I was in a good place and set myself up for cruise control to allow me some breathing room and to take photographs and simply to take joy from the experience. About 13km in, not long before the first checkpoint I looked behind me to see the procession of runners all twinkling behind me and then I really remembered why I love this race so much.

However, with underfoot conditions worsening I was glad to drop upon the first checkpoint and it was here that I stayed the longest of all the checkpoints – maybe 5 minutes, this was mainly due to the amount of people and partly because I actually wanted food. But it was still a short stop and thankfully they had full fat Coca Cola on offer and I enjoyed a cup full before heading out – no Rolo Cola this time @kemptonslim

I remembered that post checkpoints I was freezing cold for the first few minutes and so covered my fingers with the mitten part of my gloves and pulled my neck buff up and my head buff down and headed out. Weirdly though my nose was freezing and when I felt the front of my buff the snot and hot breath had frozen into a cold and icy mess. I folded it down a little and it was better but this would be the first buff to be replaced a few more kilometres down the trail.

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It was from here that you started noticing people putting crampons on as conditions underfoot deteriorated further and there was a visible increase in the amount of runners who were losing their legs beneath them, I was keen to go as fast as I could but knew two things;

  1. Falling would hurt
  2. I’d forgotten to buy ultra marathon sports insurance

and so I ran were it was appropriate and walked as quickly as possible everywhere else. It was about the 20km mark that I heard the sounds of an Australian accent behind me and for a short while I’d met someone who spoke English natively and we had a lovely brief chat before we went our sort of separate ways. This was her first ultra marathon and her French friend felt this would be a great introduction to ultras and when I saw her she looked the business taking her fast marathon form into the STL. I would see a little more of her later.

The second section unlike the first had a greater degree of pure Trail and both my knees and back appreciated this. The trail was incredibly variable with some being good clear trail, other parts moist but most were snow and ice covered and progress remained slower than I would have liked but still not bad. The STL though has a very interesting aspect to it that say something like the CCC does not – overtaking. Although the route is busy with runners the potential for overtaking is enormous and you find yourself gearing up past runners all the time and then being overtaken by them! This has benefits for the relay runners who are undoubtedly fresher than the full distance runners and even for the Express (44km) runners that you might meet.

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I found myself hitting some decent running in this section and engaging in lots of overtaking and being overtaken and it was fabulous hearing the phrase ‘a gauche’ or ‘a droit’ – I can’t tell my left from my right in English so I had to concentrate hard to get it right in French!

Although not clock watching I was very aware that my time was better than it had been in 2015 and some basic mental calculations suggested I could shave off around two or three hours from my previous outing and despite an injury and illness hit few months I was giving it as much welly as the ground would allow. However, all of this was to grind to a halt and all the good work undone. At about 23km in the ground became so icy that runners couldn’t even walk on it and in front of you a plethora of bodies were strewn across the trail.

A runner would fall and the phrase ‘ca va?’ would be called the two or three runners that would stop to pick up their fallen comrade. I brought my own race to a stop to assess the conditions and decided that I would use what visual clues I had before me, track the steps of the runners ahead of me and go as carefully as possible. Sections were becoming so severe that runners were sitting on their arses and pushing themselves down the trail on their hands.

I witnessed bloodied and bruised runners ahead of me but their tenacity meant that most would get up. My problems intensified though when at 26km my trusty Altra gave into the ice and I was thrust skyward and came down with a thud. I’d broken the fall with my back and smashed my headand although I got up straight away I was in pain – my recent back troubles suddenly came rushing back and my head felt woozy. I knew that Sainte-Catherine was only a couple of kilometres further on and so I followed the crowd, walking now and not in a good place. I slipped and slid more, desperate to keep my feet but I fell a further three times before the second checkpoint and when I crashed in I felt like death.

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I took a few minutes and ate emmental and salami to help get something in me and for both the first and last time I wondered if I should stop and seek medical attention. The answer was ‘no’ and with that I set off again. I tried to focus on the trail and ran reciting song lyrics and poetry to myself as I’ve often found this works to stop me thinking about more painful distractions. The various falls though and those to come had given me s kicking and perhaps had my head taken a worse knock than it did I would have had the common sense to stop – but I didn’t. The trail continued to worsen and we were now into the coldest part of the night and at the highest, often most exposed points, when the wind whipped through it passed straight through me but I refused to put additional layers on knowing that this would simply infuriate me.

Upon reach Inge the highest point of the race I felt something of an achievement, despite having run it before I convinced myself that the rest of the course was downhill but this was ridiculous and actually the most dangerous Running was just around the corner.

I could see the pack starting to gather ahead of me, the ice, once again so bad that runners were sat on the floor dragging themselves down and the mountain rescue, aided by quad bikes were going back and forth collecting runners from the trail. In my head I refused to sit down and drag myself along, I refused to bow, in my head I could here Terence Stamps, Zod calling out, ‘kneel before Zod son of Jor-el’ and although I’m no Superman i knew that the moment I gave in I would death march this home.

My decision to stay stood cost me a couple of falls and a fellow runner came sliding into the back of me taking me out at one point. My already broken body didn’t have the required agility to jump straight back up this time but my fellow runners pulled me to my feet quickly and set me on my way. I was hurting now in lots of ways but the mild delirium kept me on the straight and narrow!

Ha!

I dragged my sorry arse into the checkpoint and found a quiet spot to change head torches and power my phone up after the cold had simply switched it off. I didn’t bother with food or drink here – I was feeling sickly but I hoped this would pass if I quickly got out of the checkpoint and avoided the dreaded DNF.

I was a marathon or so in and light would soon be upon these beautiful French lands and with it I felt conditions would improve if only because I’d be able to see but the news was a bit better than that – the closer to Lyon we got the better the trail conditions got and icy conditions became more sporadic. My head was also starting to clear a little bit and despite the physical pain I could feel myself running more and more with confidence returning that I could control both my ascents and more importantly the descents.

Finally after the drama and trauma of the night I was back in the race – although the slow progress through the ice had ensured that there was no way I was going to run faster than the previous attempt.

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We were also on the countdown to the finish ‘SainteLyon 25km arrivee’ I pushed on as fast as I could, walking the hills as quickly as possible and staying steady across the flat and downhills. I stopped briefly to top up my calories with a couple of caramel Freddo and some icy water and took a look back to realise that there still many, many runners behind me – this was clearly proving a hard slog for everyone.

With 20km to go I pulled into the next checkpoint and pulled out again quickly – I’d been keeping tabs on the young Australian girl and her friend who I’d inadvertently been playing overtaking tennis with and decided that I could use her as my pacer – the aim? To beat her to the finish. The final 20km are much more road based which doesn’t really suit my running style nor my injury record, however, it did allow me to push on without too much concern for what was happening at foot level.

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about 5km in to the final 20km I saw my new target drift ahead of me – still looking strong and here I thought it was all over, I didn’t have a race in me – or so I thought. With just over 10km left I entered the final checkpoint had arrived at the outskirts of Lyon. I saw the two runners I was trailing and asked how they were getting on, they described a tale of woe in the icy conditions and my internal Schadenfreude said, ‘hehe’ but instant karma paid me back by making me bite down hard on my own finger instead of the cheese and salami I was holding. I base them farewell and wished them a good final push but I knew I could get there before them.

Boom!

Finally the sun was warming, I removed my buffs, my gloves and rolled my sleeves up. I knew the route from here, I could smell the finish line in the distance and even the good awful climb into the city I flew up much to the amusement of runners behind me. There are steps on the descent into Lyon and the finish – lots of them and ahead of me I could see runners gingerly hobbling down them but I pushed hard knowing that I could continue to climb the rankings.

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Off the steps, down to the river, up the winding steps, over one bridge, fly past the musee de confluences and over the final bridge, cheering supporters shouting, ‘Allez!’ And clapping calling out, ‘Bravo! Bravo!’

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I had decided on my finish routine long ago for this race and I ambled along to the final 200metres, I could see runners ahead of me and at the right moment I pressed my feet into the floor and like a rocket I blasted off much to the surprise of the crowd who whooped and hollered as I hit full pace. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 runners down, runner number 6 with his hands in the air smacked me in the head but I was in full glorious flow and I hurtled towards the final turn – taking it wide to ensure I could cross the line flat out! I passed a couple of final runners at the line and I was over.

It was over! I was over!

  • Distance: 72km
  • Ascent: +2000 metres
  • Location: Lyon
  • Cost: £65
  • Runners: 7,000 (15,000 over all distances)
  • Terrain: Mixed, icy, rocky, hilly, tough
  • Tough Rating: 3/5

Organisation
The STL is possibly the best organised race I’ve ever run, but then after 64 editions perhaps that is to be expected. However, they clearly keep on making minor corrections to the system to ensure that runners know what’s going on and what they have to do. Things like transport to the start for thousands of runners is slick and well rehearsed and the checkpoints although busy are all easily accessible as a runner.

As a French classic there isn’t much information in English but Google translate is helpful and the volunteer army was amazing in helping me with questions I had.

There was also excellent social media connectivity and the tracking was quick, up to date and working unlike at so many events (yep I’m thinking of you UTMB). The STL scores incredibly highly for organisation.

Volunteers
All volunteers are amazing but the SainteLyon volunteers are out in some freezing cold conditions for a very long period and they remain hugely upbeat – they are a credit to the race and to European Ultra Running. There should also be a special mention to the many people who came out on to the course to support, whether they had a runner or not, truly special.

Route
The route had something for everyone whether you’re a trail lover, a road hog or somewhere in between. The ascents are sharp and the descents technical in places but it’s fun and the route is mostly wide enough for easy overtaking. The views for this route are strange in that you are in the middle of the night so it’s dark but the lights of the runners illuminate things around you and in the distance and that’s a beautiful sight. I feel very much the reason I love the STL so much is because the route is both challenging and fun, this time it really did show me it’s tough side but that doesn’t change my opinion that this is an everyman course and with a bit of tenacity you can do it.

Awards
I would love, love, love a SainteLyon medal but solo finishers are presented with a T shirt instead – a nice technical shirt but still not a medal. This year pre-race they also supplied a snood/buff and a pair of STL branded warm socks which are excellent. There were all sorts of other goodness such as the post race and pre race food (I didn’t bother with either but I heard good things about it). All in all the awards are great but I’d love a medal (take the hint organisers).

Costs
To give an indication of cost I paid around £85 return flights (London Luton – Lyon). £22 for the return express train to Lyon from the airport and about £85 for three nights Airbnb in the centre of Lyon as well as £60 for the race and transport. Other costs included a couple of technical SainteLyon t-shirts and a bobble hat (total cost £27). All in, transport, race, goodies, tourism and food £300.

Logistics
I’ve written in my previous STL about logistics but Lyon is 1hr 25mons from London and Lyon Airport is 30 mins from the city centre. I used AirBnB for accommodation which was lovely and the race itself provides buses to the start for €13 and this is easily the best way of arriving fresh at the start. The organisers and Lyon/St Etienne are very well prepared for this event and as far as I could tell it runs smoothly and logistically brilliantly.

Value for money
Value for money is a very subjective thing, for example some people even believe that OCR events are good value but this is a different kettle of fish. Entry is €63 – this includes the €3 service charge and what you get is not only a truly glorious event but also tremendous support (be that through volunteers, cheering supporters or food at checkpoints), most importantly though you receive a brilliantly organised event and having some events not this well set up I can tell you I appreciate the value of a good team delivering on their promises.

Favourite moments
This year was a little different to 2015 but it had no fewer highlights, below are five moments that really made a difference to my race.

  1. The start line, such an icon of the race and filled with all sorts of emotion. The moment the runners all started hugging and patting each other on their backs just made me feel connected to my fellow competitors
  2. Standing at various high points of the route and looking back to see the procession of lights running to catch me and the people ahead of me.
  3. The two young children and their mother offering water, coffee, goodies and support in the darkest hours of the race
  4. The cries of Allez! Allez! Allez! and Bravo!
  5. My sprint to the finish line

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Conclusion
Going back to the SainteLyon after 2015 was never in doubt. I had loved the idea of it and loved the execution of it. After being busy with Haria Extreme in 2016 I knew I would be returning to Lyon this year but what I hadn’t been prepared for was a hugely different experience.

In truth, as I look back on it, I enjoyed this year even more than my first time because of how close I came to failing and yet still clinging on. However, it wasn’t just that it was also the fact I got to enjoy the race, to watch the landscape move before my very eyes in a procession of light and because the SainteLyon continues to tease, ‘come back UltraBoy you can run me faster’.

Going back to the SainteLyon is a certainty because there is something special about it that no other race I’ve done has given me the feeling I get here. It might have left me broken into a thousand pieces but I would rather that it was body broken than my heart. SainteLyon 2017 – I loved you.

You can learn more about the race at www.saintelyon.com and below is a gallery of images taken during the 2017 event!

 

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January feels a very long time ago in running terms and it has very much been a year of two halves. One half, excellent, one half was pretty bollocks – literally. I also raced a lot less than usual too after taking a little bit of advice from my physiotherapist with only 20 races attempted rather than my usual 30+ per year.

  • Country to Capital
  • Green Man
  • Ranscombe Challenge
  • Ranscombe Ramble
  • Hillsborough to Anfield Run
  • Run for the 96
  • Skye Trail Ultra
  • City of London Mile
  • Brutal Enduro
  • Endure 1250
  • Vanguard Way
  • Darnley Challenge
  • RunThrough London Greenwich
  • Ridgeway (DNF) (55/86 miles)
  • Chislehurst Chase
  • Chislehurst Chase Fun Run
  • High Weald 50km
  • World Vegan Day Run
  • Haria Extreme (DNF) (80/102km)
  • Mouth to Mouth

Race Overview
When I look over the race list and two DNFs it tells a slightly sorry story but actually the reality is very different. Yes this year has been hugely disappointing in results terms but there are other ways to measure your year.

However, there are a couple of disappointments such as the way the Hillsborough to Anfield run went and my subsequent falling out with my father (something I haven’t chronicled but am considering) and my pulling out of the Leeds-Liverpool Canal 130 which in part was caused by the events at the H2A. This left me without a hundred mile (plus) race for 2016 and that’s disappointing. There was also the pulling out of TransGranCanaria, I had signed up this when I got over excited at the CCC but hadn’t considered what a long distance mountain race might do me so early in the year. Not going to TransGC was a good decision though as it meant not overextending myself before I was ready. On the positive side though I stuck to my guns and avoided the easy option of going back to Centurion events and will carry this through to 2017 as I look to continue my search for smaller, more intimate racing.

The Planning
When I was planning the year out I placed the marker races in March, May, August and November so as to spread them out and I chose races that I felt would give me new ultra based experiences. Those races were The Green Man Ultra (heavy mud), the Skye Trail Ultra (mountainous), Leeds to Liverpool Canal Race (distance) and Haria Extreme (hot mountainous) – this seemed like a year to kill for but there were changes that were needed due to injury, family problems and a lack of training after Skye and so I dropped the Leeds to Liverpool Canal and replaced it with the excellent but shorter distance Ridgeway 86.

What happened?
It was very much a year of two halves with the first half of the year going brilliantly and the second half of the year being pretty much a write off with a few positives thrown in. I started the year by joining the Wonky Wanderer at Country to Capital (read the review here) for her first ultra. Having convinced her that she should run it I was compelled to join her on the start line and it proved to be one of my most positive ultra experiences ever. Yes C2C isn’t going to win awards for being the most exciting race, but it is varied and challenging while being highly accessible as a first real ultra. Being there to see Emma cross the line in a little over 10hrs will remain one of my most treasured memories long after I finally retire from running.

Country to Capital should have been followed by the Vigo Runners Valentines Run but in 2016 this race was cancelled, much to many runners annoyance.

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Therefore, I managed to pass through February without racing and my next time on a start line was the brilliant Green Man (read the review here) in Bristol. The Green Man has the distinction of joining my favourite races list rather highly, it was muddy, it was tough and the course was an absolute delight. The best thing though was meeting lots of the local Bristol runners, catching up with the amazing Roz Glover and best of all was meeting Elaine who single handedly kept my spirits up to the finish line.

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Racing was replaced by a bit of cold weather training in the arctic circle (partly to see the Northern Lights). I managed to add XC skiing as well as lots of really fun running – the ice, the snow, the cold and the amazing scenery just filled my heart with joy. I took time out of every day I was there to just go off-road and see things that are certainly not on the usual trails (read about the Finland adventure here).

I came back to the UK fired up and ready to train.

With running going surprisingly well I turned up for a double header of running at the Ranscombe Farm and Wild Flower reserve. It’s pretty well known that I love a bimble around Ranscombe and I’d considered this a perfect opportunity to test my body against a bit of elevation prior to disappearing off to the Isle of Skye.

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The Ranscombe Challenge and Rachel’s Ranscombe Ramble (read the review here) offered two different routes around the reserve. Day one was good and strong for me, about 30 miles run but with some mild feeling in an old injury but Day two was pretty terrible with less than 15 miles added to my SVN total. The route around Ranscombe and small field nature of the event makes me a regular there but I wish I had just done the Ranscombe Ramble as this was the tougher of the routes and lots of new fun. I’d love to go back to the Ramble next year but sadly the timings are a little out for me – I’m hoping that SVN might run it later in the year to allow me to test my mettle properly against it.

The injury at the Ramble left me with something of a quandry – it wasn’t a nasty injury but it did require rest and with the Hillsborough to Anfield Run only a few weeks away I actually needed to be training. I chose to do the sensible thing and rest for much of the time before the H2A and then be as sensible as possible during the H2A. Sadly the Hillsborough Run went very badly for me both in terms of distance and what happened with my father in the aftermath. I came away from the H2A event incredibly deflated, sore, injured and ill – this was likely to have an effect on running the Skye Trail Ultra just a few days later and Skye was, as we’ve discussed, one of the big marker races for the year.

So after returning from Liverpool I prepared my kit for the Isle of Skye just five days later. Friday arrived and amazingly I was ready to run, at least mentally I was, physically I was a bit of a mess but I’d give it a bit of welly and hope for the best. I travelled up to Skye on the Caledonian sleeper train and what a tremendous experience it was – it was my first time on a sleeper train and just being there was exciting, eating haggis, watching ‘My Week with Marilyn’ and catching up on Barkley related race reports. The only downside was that I awoke from the journey with terrible travel sickness.

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Thankfully I recovered enough to be race ready 12hrs later and at 5am in the morning on the Saturday I blundered through the Skye Trail Ultra (read the review here) with all the energy I could muster. Skye was as promised, was one of the hardest but most rewarding things I have ever done – it was filled with beautiful views, majestic climbs and terrifying navigation. Skye destroyed my feet and it destroyed my head but what it gave back was massive in terms of belief. I’d recommend the Skye Trail Ultra more than most ultras and it was certainly my favourite race this year and plays second fiddle only to the SainteLyon (read the review here) as my favourite ultra of all time.

UltraBaby and I were next on the running scene, this time joined by the GingaNinja at the City of London Mile (read the review here) and we gave it some fair welly (I did it solo and as a family runner) and this was a great fun event, nice and fast on the roads around Cannon Street, London. If it’s back next year we’ll be signing up and UltraBaby will be attacking this one on foot (rather than sleeping through it in the buggy). This was a lovely community experience and although I didn’t quite run it as fast as I might have hoped I did enjoy it.

And this was the last time that they year went really well or at all to plan.

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By the time we entered the summer the wheels had really started to come off. It started with the Brutal Enduro (read the review here) which was a tremendous event and highly recommended if you’re looking for a  challenging and inexpensive looped event. I really enjoyed the Brutal Enduro because of the variety inside the 10km loop and the fact that it was very inclusive event with a positive atmosphere but by 60km I’d had enough of summertime chaffing and injuries that continued to flare up. So I returned to my tent and caught up on some sleep. What I did know was that I had enjoyed the experience enough to try my hand at another looped trail race and so bundled myself off to the Endure 1250 (read the review here)I should have known though that lightning doesn’t strike twice and Endure 1250 was one of the least interesting races I have taken part in. Where Enduro had views, hills, challenges, excitement and atmosphere this felt flat, dull and lifeless. The worst part of it wasn’t any of this of course – the worst part was the horrendous chaffing I suffered within the first 10km. You might think this was colouring my view of the race but not so, I just didn’t enjoy it and hoped for better when I hit the trails once more.

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It seemed though I had cursed myself because the Vanguard Way Marathon (read the review here) was probably the most serious of the issues I faced while racing. It had been a hot day at the beginning of August and this one had been flagged as being tough, partly from the navigational point of view but also from the undulating nature of the course. In typical fashion I got seriously lost but also had to contend with both serious heat stroke and no water at the halfway point. I had consumed an entire 1.5 litre bladder of water in the first 13 miles along with water at the first checkpoint and had now run out. by mile 14 I was in quite serious trouble as the sun came blazing out. I had collapsed in a heap overlooking the lovely views of the Vanguard way for a little while before I came to and called the GingaNinja – slurring my words. However, I survived back to the checkpoint and managed to refresh my water supply but it felt like a close run thing. All the positives of the year seemed to be disappearing rather quickly but that being said I really loved the Vanguard Way Marathon and would do it again – the views were spectacular and the route was amazingly good fun, even when you add a couple of miles. Knowing what I would have to face would give me a better chance of being prepared for this Croydon bad boy!

The effect of the heatstroke lasted several days, it was really quite severe and so when I lumbered up to the Darnley Challenge (read the review here) less than a week later I was still not quite right but there is (as stated) always fun and chocolate at an SVN event and so taking in some of the delights of Ranscombe, Cobham and Gravesend(?) I ran a decent marathon for the first time in ages as well as adding a medal that was about the size of my head, can’t be bad.

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But my response to the Darnley Challenge could not mask the fact I really wasn’t ready for the Ridgeway 86 (read the review here). I’ve come to the conclusion that you really should not start a race if you’re nervous about whether you have the fitness to finish it and R86 was an example of a race where I was making excuses before I got anywhere near the start line. I suppose there was a clue as to my readiness when my calf simply seized up on at the RunThrough 10km in Greenwich Park a week earlier.

However I did rock up and I ran the first 43 miles in a decent time and even when I reached my final port of call at about mile 55 my body was in surprisingly good shape – what ruined it were my bollocks once again. The terrible chaffing that had been the bane of my racing through the summer had once again struck. My nuts were about the size of a couple of watermelons, fecking hell they hurt! The funny thing is that despite it being a good race I wasn’t really enjoying it all that much, having DNf’d the Winter 100 a couple of years ago this took in some of the same route and I didn’t find it inspired me to continue. A shame as it was a well organised and challenging race and even though I’ve said to myself I’m never returning to it, I’m sure I will.

It was then that my year hit a real low, I argued with the GingaNinja about running and racing, causing my public withdrawl from all running and racing. I ate a lot of pizza, drank a lot of Lucozade and refused to get the physical problems I’d been accumulating looked at. My retirement lasted a mere month but it was a very long month that really took some bites out of me, it kicked my fitness into the ground and I had piled on the pounds, all in all it was a shitty episode that was very public and very horrible. When I returned to racing at the Chislehurst 10km (read the review here) I gave it all the welly I could muster and even though I ran a reasonable time I knew I wasn’t in anyway fit enough to face the High Weald 50km (read the review here) but when did that ever stop me?

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At High Weald I was slow and steady but nothing spectacular and that was fine, it was a comeback race but it was far from ideal. I had toyed with the idea of not turning up to this one but I really wanted one of the mugs and the only way to get one, bar stealing one, was to run the bloody race. The good news was I was going to be testing my Altra Lone Peak 3.0 properly on the course and the better news was that the undulating nature of the course meant I was at least going to be doing something I love – trail hills.

During the race I felt like I was being punished a thousand times over for my ‘retirement’ and the sunstroke that got me about halfway through the race was unfair but I really enjoyed another bimble through Sussex and I’d certainly go back and run this one better. The best bit though was that post race I was allowed to have McDonalds chocolate milkshake again (just like after the Vanguard Way Marathon) as it helped to cool me down in the quickest possible way. Thank you McDonalds!

High Weald had given me the incentive to start training properly again and I did start on a programme of good miles, better eating and strengthening – it seemed like I was back on course after some failure but my fate seems to be that I am to write about my misadventures rather than successes! And when one Tuesday evening as I was buggy running with UltraBaby I felt my calf finally give up the ghost and it was ruined.

8 weeks until Haria Extreme. Turd.

For nearly three weeks it was painful to walk and I was resting as much as I could while remaining active by gingerly walking to work and back as a minimum. I thought that rest was the solution – it wasn’t. I called in the physiotherapist and she worked all the magic she could, my physio has gotten my ready for races before when I’ve ruined myself and I trusted her to do so again. The advice was rest, TENS, stretching, heat and physio – hours of it daily and for a change I gave up those hours to rehabilitation.

2 weeks until Haria Extreme. Progress.

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With no training I signed up to the World Vegan Day Challenge (read the review here) and hoped to test my calf for a few miles. As it was a weekday challenge the GingaNinja wasn’t available to take me so I was required to cycle the 13 miles to the race start. When I rolled up to Ranscombe Farm Reserve I managed a rather surprising marathon distance. However, I knew all was not right and trail ride home made me realise I was going to have to up the rehab if I wanted to survive. I stopped running again as I knew that my best chance of reaching the start line of Haria was to stop moving and continue fixing.

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Haria Extreme (read the review here) was the end of the year marker race – I had been looking forward for this for months and I wanted to give my all but knowing that your body may not hold up and that your training had been non-existent meant I was nervous.

However, I drew heavily on experience at Skye to help me overcome the mountainous sections and I remembered that whatever else I did I should enjoy it infact I spent so much time looking up in wonder at the beautifully dramatic landscape that I almost forgot to race. Haria was harder than Skye, it turned me inside out in a much shorter time, the heat hit me, the elevation hit me and the naked ladies hit me (not literally). I finished about 20km short of the finish and that should have tortured me but it didn’t and the reason was I am learning that by taking on harder and harder races I know I will fail more. Haria let me experience failure while giving some tremendous memories back.

I cut my shins quite unpleasantly and my calf muscle pulled me apart again but I learned that despite my lack of fitness I was within a cats whisker of completing Haria Extreme, the weird thing is that I had nearly 10hrs to complete just over 20km, maybe as I sit here reflecting I should have carried on but ultimately I know I did the right thing.

With Haria out of the way though I could then focus on finishing the year and this I did at Mouth to Mouth (read the review here), no pressure, a beautiful race on the south coast that was only mildly troubled by GI distress. I remember thinking as I crossed the line, what a lucky bugger I am

Original aims of 2016

  • Don’t DNF
  • Test yourself on more mountainous terrain
  • Avoid the easy route to ultras by returning to races you’ve done
  • Don’t buy as many pairs of shoes
  • No half marathons, they bore me

How did it finish up? 

  • I bought lots of pairs of shoes
  • By year end I will have run about 2000 miles in 2016
  • I had two DNFs
  • I managed not to run a half marathon!
  • I did run lots of smaller, more intimate races, avoiding mass participation
  • I had several experiences of testicle chaffing
  • I had several experiences of serious GI distress – the south downs have a new hill on them and Skye has a ‘no go’ zone with a half life of about 3,000 years
  • I learned to not worry so much about what other runners think of me
  • I’m still a lard arse
  • UltraBaby got to her sixth race medal

2016 was such a mixed year, it was filled with so many challenges that I overcame and so many that gave me a bloody good kicking. The important thing wasn’t the failure, it was how I dealt with that failure. I was frustrated and angry with myself at both Endure 1250 and the Ridgeway 86 – its fair to say at R86 in fact I was furious. The problems that got me at these races though I believe I’ve resolved (kit changes) but the lesson learned from Haria was to test myself at harder and harder races and accept that not finishing is the price you have to pay sometimes. The whole retirement/injury thing had huge consequences and I’m still trying to get back into shape and only now returning to full time training, so I’ll be trying to avoid both of them going forward but ultimately 2016 I’ll look for the positives and there were many.

Perhaps the most exciting positive was seeing so much more of the UK, trying new types of running, on new trails, in new countries. It was a positive that I raced less and positive that I realised the mistake I would have made by trying to run the LLCR130. I’ll make mistakes going forward but there is something rewarding about being accepting of that.

The one change I think will make a huge difference to me to is that I’ve stopped worrying about what the other runners think of me, I’ve always been a bit fearful of the judgement of my peers – perhaps we all are but it was proving to be crippling. It stopped me entering the Hangman Ultra and also from submitting applications to races where I knew significantly better runners than I would be on the start line. I’ve very much come to embrace that I am me, warts and all. I wish I had learned this lesson so much sooner. There are a couple of my peers who helped me see this and if you are reading this and you think it was you then it probably is.

So without naming names – thanks.

The future
More of the same, more races, smaller and harder races, more running, considered training, hilly runs and some, if not lots, of mountains, certainly thousands of metres of elevation. I’ll be previewing my 2017 plans in the next few weeks which will help me firm up my exact race and training trajectory – but be assured I’m ‘on it, like a car bonnet!’. I don’t even know what that means.

What about you?

  • So how about everyone else’s 2016?
  • Did it go well? Did you avoid injury?
  • Did you achieve thousands of PBs?
  • Did you focus all your energies into Parkruns?
  • What plans do you have for 2017?
  • What races should I consider adding to my calendar?
  • Will I have another year of two halves?

Run Rabbit, Run Rabbit, Run, Run, Run! That’s how it felt, like a rabbit in the headlights – it might only have been 10km but I felt it.

My return to running from retirement was in the form of the infamous Chislehurst Chase.

I hadn’t run at all since my testicles had been consumed by the almighty chaffing fire at the Ridgeway Challenge and my disagreement with the GingaNinja had stopped me running altogether and enforced a diet of pizza and chocolate for about 3 weeks. However, armed with resolution from the disagreement and the High Weald 50km a little over a week later I decided to enter the Chislehurst Chase. It should be noted that the CC was rescued from oblivion by the brilliant people at ‘Bridge Triathlon’ who took it on after it looked like it might not return a couple of years ago. Now sadly I didn’t run it under the previous directorship but I have run a couple of ‘Bridge’ events and so I was very confident I’d have a load of fun.

The race itself takes place in Scadbury Park, an obscure and hidden treasure of a park near Orpington, two loops and lots of hills – both up and down. I lined up with about 300 other runners, waved goodbye to the GingaNinja and UltraBaby and loped gently beyond the start line. As a previous resident of these parts I knew these woods very well and had run them many times on training runs with my beloved spaniel and so I knew what was coming.

The ground was good to firm and the trail was well shaded on a pleasant September day. I bounded along the down hills (of which there were many) and a meandered on the up hills but all the time maintaining a reasonable pace. Sadly I was going to be nowhere near my 41 minute personal best for this 10km route but it wasn’t about that it was about enjoying a delightful race that has been on my radar for several years.

I came out towards the biggest of the down hills and realised that if I wanted a decent time I would need to power down this until we hit the ankle grinding uphill back to the second lap. This I did with great aplomb and powered past my fellow runners, giving me some much needed momentum into the uphill. Thankfully the grass was receding in the gaze of autumn and it had been a few days prior to the race so the uphill had decent traction. In the distance I could see volunteers directing back towards the car park and what I describe as the fun fast section where we split off for a second lap or onto the home mile.

I thundered out for my second lap but my body was now tiring, the lack of running clearly rearing its ugly head but such was the fun I was having that I was happily able to maintain my sensible pace and give it enough riz to reach the final mile.

It was here that I could feel my blood boiling and the dozen or so people in front of me looked like targets. Boom – one, two, three, seven, ten down – all easy. Miss Eleven went with about 300 metres to go but I wanted the dozen. Mister Twelve had 50 metres on me but he didn’t have any momentum, nor an afterburner button.

I drew level with about 100metres to go – he was about my age, local club vest and had clearly given his all. I thankfully hadn’t. BOOM. The afterburners fired and I was flung forward to cross the line with my chest beating and my lungs on fire. BOOM – I was back.

Conclusion: Great route, great race, traditional organisation – felt like a great Sunday morning run. Medal, sweets and water all available and the local cafe as a sponsor provide excellent toilets and an even better pre-race Eggs Benedict.

There was also the added fun of the 2km children’s race, which UltraBaby ran and you can read about here. All in all this was brilliant and if you’re local this is a must-do and if you’re not then it might well be worth the journey for a beautiful September 10km.

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There are very few pieces of equipment that fill me with as much joy as my signature series Ultimate Directions race vest. Perhaps my Hoka, maybe my original Adidas Adios or maybe my first OMM 25l bag but these all felt very real, things that could be used in a day to day scenario either for training or going to work, the UD Signature Series doesn’t feel like that, the UD vest feels like something you wear when you are racing or hitting the ail big time. I’ll point out that I am a regular user of the vest but there is something that makes you heart skip a beat when you put on a piece of kit like this because it helps get you into the zone.

Anyway enough of my gushing, this is a very simple review based on my experiences with the UD Peter Bakwin signature series vest. I’m not a professional athlete, I’m not even a decent ultra runner but I run regularly, race often and want good, value added kit to ensure that my collection steadily grows.

Let’s start with some specifications of the product and go from there:

FEATURES (FRONT)
– GPS Pouch (buttons accessible)
– Bottle holsters can carry 26 oz.
– Gel or bar pouches (4)
– Electrolyte or valuables pocket (2)
– Fully adjustable Sternum Straps (2)
– Emergency whistle

FEATURES (BACK)
– Cuben Fiber bellows for large or small loads
– Secure Lat Pockets, with full pocket behind (2)
– Two sizes main compartments
– Single pull bungee compresses entire pack
– Trekking pole (2) and Ice Axe loop (1)

SPECIFICATIONS
Volume Capacity: 12L
Fluid Capacity: 2 x 591 mL / 2 x 20 oz. bottles
Weight: 340 g (496 g with bottles) / 12 oz. (17.5 oz. with bottles)
Height: 41 cm
Width: 23 cm
Depth: 11 cm

I specifically bought this bag a a replacement for my OMM Ultra 15, which as a bag I love to bits but as a race bag it sits quite low on my frame and I find the need to have a map pouch permanently attached to me which makes the bag difficult to remove during a race – so much so that during the White Cliffs 50 I need the aid of some of the support crew to help me back into my bag. Let me make it clear though, my OMM 15 is my current daily use bag and often my first choice race bag, but for the ultra distances I felt I needed something that reduced movement event further, was lighter and built specifically with the ultra marathoner in mind. My search was extensive and I looked up bags and vests from manufacturers like OMM, Salomon (whose range is outstandingly good), Nathan and even Decathlon.

It was while looking for new and interesting races that I stumbled across the Centurion Running website and there was a fairly small but well packed shop with goodies just destined for my basket – but the thing that caught my eye where the Ultimate Directions race vests. Not only where they in the same price bracket as the Salomon but they had a rather nice colour way that made me think they’d look rather nice on. The fact that the bag was jammed to the rafters with technology and innovative features was simply a bonus to me.

I made my order from Centurion Running as they were offering it at both a decent price and my fellow tweeter @abradypus recommends them and their events and as a consequence I wanted to support an organisation doing good things rather than give my money to taxation specialists Amazon. It arrived very swiftly but like the muppet I am I had ordered the wrong size – bugger. But credit where it is due centurion simply took back the item and replaced it with the M/L version which I knew would fit me right in the sweet spot – and that is a not a euphemism.

Of course I was keen to try it the moment it arrived but I tend to carry a lot into work and the 8litre capacity of the main compartment probably wasn’t going to be enough – so I waited patiently for the weekend and on the Saturday morning set out for my long slow run, I say long it was probably about 20 miles but enough for me to consider that I would need to take liquid with me and a few bits of kit like a waterproof incase the weather turned heavy on me during the height of summer.

I put the pack on, fiddled a little with the two small front clips and a slight adjustment to the single cord tightening system and I was ready. The first things I noticed was that vest was tight to my back and by tight i simply mean that it didn’t move, it used my form and followed me, even when loaded it remained a balanced pack and there was no bouncing around. Adjustments are simple to achieve too once you’ve got the hang of not having dozens of straps floating about and it is in this quality engineering that you can see that Ultimate Directions have really thought about how the back is going to come together. I added my two water bottles to the front of the vest and filled each of the pockets with suitable items and set off for a great run. The truth is that I barely knew the bag was there. My one complaint was that I couldn’t figure out how to get the water out of the bottles and had to unscrew the buggers, a nuisance but more down to user error than anything else.

Upon returning home I was able to strip the pack down a bit and start kit testing for the Thames Gateway 100. Despite being an ultra runner I tend to carry too much stuff, I prefer to be prepared and carry a few extra items rather than drop the weight I’m carrying but sacrifice essential items. The back of the pack was perfect for this, straight in went my Montane minimus jacket, first aid kit, head torches, iPad mini! spare socks, arm warmers, mobile charging device, maps and waterproof trousers. In the outer mesh I was able to place a small wind proof jacket and had I really needed it I could have added another small item of clothing to the compression straps that run over the back. Into the side pockets I added a buff, some electrical cables such as my Garmin and iPhone charger and a little bit of food. more food was added to the side pockets of the water bottle front pouches and I still had room for my mobile phone and further food stuffs. Still though there was a bit of room … UD say they have built in a space for ice axes and cheat sticks/hiking poles but I use the Black Diamond Z pole which are not telescopic and so are reasonably bulky. However, using the two side pockets and flicking the cheat sticks under the straps means you can have your cheat sticks to hand. Interestingly even fully loaded the bag feels lightweight, good on the back and most importantly comfortable. It was perhaps the one good thing that came out of my DNF at the TG100 that the bag came through we flying colours and solved the problem of me being able to take off my bag whenever I wanted to.

There are so many twists and loops on this pack that you think you will never actually fill them all, but it is a testament to the team who put this together that they know what runners want and need that nothing feels wasted. A brief note on the water bottles is that they like the bag are fantastic, they feel clean, taste good and the grip is excellent. The issue I had was that I neglected to pull the water feeder up and therefore found it difficult to get water out on my first trial of the pack – a brief internet search put me right and am convinced that these bottles are possibly the best ones I own.

I’ve seen some reviews that say the gel pockets on the side of the bottle pouches can ping the gels out but I didn’t find this but then I would be more likely to store biscuits or jelly babies in there. I’d love to find a downside with the pack but simply can’t, perhaps the fact it isn’t waterproof would be an issue for some but then you have to balance weight against materials used and I think the Ultimate Directions PB is a perfectly balanced pack.

Do remember it won’t be for everyone and at over £100 and possibly as much as £125 it is an expensive piece of kit but it is very worthwhile if you are distance runner and looking for a dedicated bag this might just be for you. For more information search on YouTube for the Peter Bakwin Ultimate Directions video and see the pack in action or visit this URL http://youtu.be/ILcv7D_Yq80

The pack is available for many good online retailer such as the Centurion Running. Enjoy.

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