DNF – The Dragon’s Back Race

6-11th September 2011

Overview

This race blog has not been easy. I am really writing it for myself – as a record of how I felt about this race – rather than for wider circulation to friends and family. If you find it interesting then great, but I warn you what follows is mostly introspection. 

This is my first DNF (‘did not finish”). Technically, I DNF’d the SDW100 in 2018, but I had planned to do just the first 50 miles as it was only three weeks before my “A race” for that year (the Mont Blanc 90k). In my mind that one doesn’t count, so this is my first DNF, and it has left me with very conflicted emotions.

Sunset over Yr Wyddfa (Snowdon)

Having allowed a few weeks to pass, I can now look back on the Dragon’s Back with a little more perspective than I felt in the immediate aftermath. Editing the photos, creating the video and writing this blog have allowed me to reflect on the experience, and process it a little. The disappointment of the DNF is still there, but maybe it is now a little less raw.

 

If you’re not inclined to read the lengthy detail that follows, the summary is that I failed to meet the cut-off time (“timed out”) two thirds of the way through the second day, ridiculously early in a 6-day race. If I am honest it could have been even worse. There was considerable doubt whether I would make the cut-off half way through the first day, and I only made the overnight camp on that first day with seven minutes to spare. To have DNF’d on the first day would have been really embarrassing.

 

Having been timed-out, effectively I become “non-competitive” which meant I would not be a ‘finisher” and there would be no Dragon trophy waiting for me in Cardiff. After 18 months of preparation and massive emotional investment in this race, that still stings. Rather than just heading home, my two informal team members (James and Andy) and I decided to carry on and treat the rest of the week as a supported running camp. I hesitate to call it a holiday, but having paid our money…

 

So we did get to run into Cardiff Castle at the end of the sixth day, and that was pretty cool, but it didn’t feel the same to me. I found it really hard to accept gracefully the applause from the spectators in the Castle, and the subsequent congratulations from friends and family. Yes, of course I know we still did a mountain marathon/ultra every day for 6 days, travelled the length of Wales, and climbed countless stunning mountains on the way. And yes, I know that the heat wiped out 75% of starters in the first two days – but the fact remains I was a DNF.

 

With time for reflection I can now see some of the positives.  The following are James’ words, but he expresses my own feelings perfectly: “I am very privileged to have two mates to share such an experience with. Thank you so much. There is absolutely no way I could even consider doing that on my own. Not one moment of doubt that we should have been giving it a go, even when we knew how hard it was. We weren’t expecting an easy ride, and it didn’t disappoint! Hats off to all those who completed, and also to the rest of us who pushed on through anyway.”

The team at Cardiff Castle

However, if I am honest I spent most of the first three days really not enjoying it and absolutely convinced this would be my last race. My lowest times were passed mentally composing the message of "retirement" that I was going to send to my running buddies. Some people might consider running such long distances and enjoyment to be wholly mutually exclusive, but I have always enjoyed my previous races. It might be some weird and perverted form of enjoyment, and there had certainly tough times in all of them, but they were fun challenges that I took on with a smile on my face.

Maybe this time I had just bitten off more than I could chew – frankly it was just too hard, and too hot for me.  Would I have completed it with more normal weather on the first three days? Possibly, but I am not convinced, and now I will never know. The reason I do these challenges is to push myself to the limit, and over the years I have progressed to longer and harder races as I try to find out where that limit is. Maybe I have now answered that question, and found it. I guess that is the point of it all, and my lesson from the Dragon’s Back 2021.

 

Results and stats 

According to the official race results page, there were 367 starters at Conwy Castle. This was considerably fewer than the 402 names on the entry list sent out a week prior to the event. Last minute injuries often cause a number of non-starters, but I sense that this year Covid (and Covid-related travel restrictions for non-UK based entrants) meant the number of starters was considerably lower than the organisers expected.

 

Only 90 of the 367 starters completed every day within cut-off and entered Cardiff Castle as heroic Dragon slayers. This 24% finisher rate is the lowest of any race that I have participated in, and significantly lower than the last Dragon’s Back Race in 2019 when there were 251 finishers from 404 starters (62%).

 

We all knew that the 2021 edition was going to be tougher to complete than the 2019 race. There had been much discussion about the extra sixth day, representing an additional 65km and 2,000m of climbing, and turning the fifth day into an absolute monster. Less publicised, but just as critical, was that the cut-off times for each day had been reduced by an hour in response to expectations of a much larger field of entries and to increase participant safety.

 

But it was not the extra day, or the new monster day 5 that caused so many to DNF. Day one accounted for 119 starters, with nearly a third of the field being timed out or failing to finish. Day 2 saw off another 130 meaning that just 118, less than one third of starters, were still in the race as they set of on start of Day 3. Of the 100 still competitive at the start of Day 4, the majority (90) made it to Cardiff as finishers. The previous edition in 2019 had seen just 11% DNF on Day 1 and a further 12% fail on Day 2. These stats show clearly the enormous impact that exogenous factors such as weather can have.

 

With such a large percentage of DNF’s and with so many of them coming so early in the week, it is interesting to look at the response of those who were timed-out or DNF’d. Obviously some were injured, and many, quite understandably, felt the disappointment too great or lacked the motivation to continue. However, as well as the 90 finishers, 73 other non-competitive runners like us arrived in Cardiff Castle having running half or full days for the remainder of the week.

 

The day-by-day results for our “team” were as follows:

 

Day 1: Conwy Castle to Nant Gwynant

• Full course = 49km (30.5 miles) & 3,800m (12,500ft)
• James & Andy finished in 14h00m (40 minutes within cut-off); 208^th out of 248 finishers
• Paul finished in 14h34m (7 minutes within cut-off at 10pm); 237^th out of 248 finishers

Day 2: Nant Gwynant to Dolgellau

• Full course = 59km (36.5 miles) & 3,400m (11,100ft)
• All timed out at Support Point at Cwm Bychan 37km and 1900m climb
• Andy reached Cwm Bychan in 8h35m at 2:49pm missing the cut-off by just 4 minutes!
• Paul & James reached Cwm Bychan in 9h25m missing the cut-off by 55 minutes

 

Day 3: Dolgellau to Ceredigion

• Full course = 70km (43.5 miles) & 3,400m (11,200ft)
• Andy finished in 13h44m; 61^st out of 120 finishers for that day
• Paul & James stopped at Machynlleth Support Point after 45km and 2,500m climb in 9h20m (48 minutes within cut-off but having made the decision not to continue)

 

Day 4: Through the Elan Valley

• Full course = 69km (43 miles) & 2,300m (7,500ft)
• All finished in 12h15m; 69^th out of 144 finishers for that day

 

Day 5: Into the Brecon Beacons National Park

• Full course = 70km (43.5 miles) & 3,200m (10,500ft)
• All started from the Support Point at the Usk Reservoir completing just the more “interesting” last two thirds of the day
• 47km and 2,600m completed in 10h02m

 

Day 6: To Cardiff Castle

• Full course = 63km (39 miles) & 1,300m (4,300ft)
• All finished in 10h23m; 68^th out of 138 finishers for that day

 

Total for the week

• Full course = 380km (236 miles) & 17,400m (57,100ft)
• Andy: 335km & 15,300m (88% of total) in 69hrs
• James: 310km & 14,400m (82% of total) in 65hr25m
• Paul: 310km & 14,400m (82% of total) in 66hrs

Weather conditions 

The morning of Monday 6^th September felt warm, but the mist covering the hills above Conwy hid the truth of the weather that lay ahead for the next three days. By midday on Monday the sun had burned off the mist, and the extremely steep 600m climb and scramble up Tryfan came in the full glare of the sun at the hottest time of the day, with absolutely no breeze, shade or cooling streams. The weather archives record a high of 21 degrees in Snowdonia for that day – all I can say is that it felt at least 10 degrees hotter on that Tryfan ascent.

 

Worse was to come on Tuesday. I had expected Day 2 to be the toughest: we were all suffering with heat stress, dehydration and from not having eaten enough during the previous day, and then the perverse weather gods gave us the hottest September day in Wales since records began. The official high for the day was 27 degrees, but again with virtually no breeze and a strong sun shining in cloudless skies, it felt considerably hotter. Wednesday brought similar high temperatures, but offered a little respite in the form of a wonderfully cooling morning breeze on Cadair Idris. However, the wind died as the day progressed, and in the valleys the heat remained oppressive, making Day 3 another hot and humid one.

 

Never has Welsh cloud and rain been more welcome than when we looked outside the tent on Thursday morning. This was the weather we had trained for and experienced in all of our recce trips to Wales. These cooler conditions continued for the remainder of the week and were close to perfect for mountain running, but by then the damage had been done to us, and the majority of the field.

More typical Welsh weather in the Brecon Beacons

 

Training and preparation 

My training and preparation had been pretty close to ideal. With Covid killing off the 2019/20 ski season in March 2020, I had started running earlier in 2020 then I would have in previous years. This training was initially aimed at 2020 races that ended up being cancelled, but I found running a great distraction from the pandemic so kept my fitness up through 2020. Deciding with James and Andy to sign up for the 2021 Dragon’s Back gave me an extra incentive to maintain my fitness, and my legs felt really strong when hiking the Tour de Mont Blanc with Sarah in September 2020. Covid cancelled the 2020/21 ski season, and for the first time I trained all the way through that winter. James, Andy and I managed three weekend trips to Wales to recce various parts of the route, all of which went well, including our baptism on Grib Goch. I had two excellent warm up races in June (60k) and July (100k), in which I performed at or beyond my expectations. In August the Covid travel restrictions eased in time for me to fit in my usual week’s training in Chamonix to put some serious vertical into my legs. With the exception of shin splints in May following one of the weekends in Wales, I also stayed free of injury during this whole period.

 

In summary, under Neil Bryant’s expert guidance, I had put together an unprecedented 18-months of training from March 2020 to September 2021, running on average between 5 or 6 days a week, for a total of 627 hours, covering 5,700km (an average of 75km per week) and climbing over 90,000m. As I started my taper in September, all of my stats showed that I was as strong as I had even been, and on a par with my fitness leading up to the UTMB in 2019, what I still consider my strongest ultra performance. The Dragon’s Back Race requires significant investment – not just the financial cost of entering and the mandatory kit, but the emotional and time commitment to train and prepare properly over a considerable period.

 

Physical impact during and after

Having read reports from participants in previous years who measured their recovery in months rather than days or weeks, I fully expected my body to be a complete wreck at the end of the race. I was also resigned to getting serious blisters: the mandatory comprehensive blister kit was a tell-take sign, reinforced by the Race Director’s warning at his briefing that 70% of participants suffer from blisters, even those like me who never normally get them.

 

Remarkably none of this came to pass. My feet got very wet on a couple of days, but a change of socks and an application of Gurney Goo at the support points prevented the damage escalating into anything serious. Even the sore spot of the outside of my little toe – something that had been a problem for some weeks and was really worrying me pre-race – just calmed down and disappeared. Maybe I was lucky, but using trusted, well broken-in shoes and pre-empting emerging foot problems with early treatment probably also have played a part.

 

The rest of my body also recovered exceptionally well, overnight during the event, and in the days and weeks that followed. I wouldn’t say I felt fresh as a daisy in Cardiff, but I got through the week without any form of injury and was walking without pain or stiffness the morning afterwards. I did suffer from quad cramps on the first day due the steep gradients and very hot weather, but no worse than I had experienced in some previous big races. My legs actually felt stronger as the week progressed, maybe as a result of improving weather conditions. I think this confirms that my preparation had been good, and that I had arrived at the race in great shape.

 

Feeling stronger at Day 4 high point, Drygarn Fawr

The most significant deterioration in my physical condition was probably just a growing and overwhelming feeling of general fatigue and tiredness. Some of this was due to lack of proper sleep during the week, and my sleep patterns remained seriously disturbed and deficient for week or so afterwards. It also took me a couple of days to properly recover from the heat stress and dehydration of the first two days.

 

I suffered a serious calorie deficit during those first two days when I was not able to take in sufficient energy – a reoccurrence of an old failing in not being able to eat or keep food down when it is hot. This improved as my appetite returned from day 3 onwards. Despite all the pre-race fears about the vegetarian menus, the food at the camps was tasty, varied and plentiful, and for the remainder of the week I ate like the proverbial horse. Weighing myself on my return home I discovered that I had not lost weight during the week, which in itself is quite remarkable.

 

So that leaves an obvious paradox: given my near perfect preparation, lack of injury during the race, and generally strong physical condition post race, why didn’t I finish? Why was I not strong enough to beat those cut-offs on day two? Could I have pushed myself harder, did I quit too easily? Looking back, it is a tempting thought, but one that is quickly dispelled by the memory of just how totally cooked and completely done in I felt in the heat of that second day.

 

What next?

After a couple of weeks of reflection, I have decided to leave the retirement email that I had composed in my head in my brain’s drafts folder. I am not quite ready to send it yet. As James and Andy’s chat moved on to the races they were thinking about next, I found myself Googling those and other races – a telltale sign! The Dragon’s Back has made me think hard about what I want to do next, what elements of a race or challenge I really enjoy, and which parts of the experience did not work so well for me. I think there will be another challenge – but it will need to be one that really inspires me, and one that promises a little more enjoyment, where I can compete with more of a smile on my face.

 

Links:

• Website
• Results
• Video of the route
• Photo album
• Strava: Day 1; Day 2; Day 3; Day 4; Day 5; Day 6

Cardiff Castle

South West Coast 2 Coast (SWC2C)

24^th July 2021

 

This was another race entered last year and then deferred to 2021 due to Covid, and one that we picked because it offered alternatives for both Sarah and I.  The Coast to Coast in question is across Devon, from Minehead on the north coast to Dawlish at the southern end of the Exe estuary.  The organisers – Action Challenge – offer options that include the full course of 102kms run (or hiked) on a continuous basis, or split over two days.  It is also possible to do the first or second halves as individual 50k races, or the first or last quarters.  Because of the vagaries of the checkpoint locations the first quarter is actually 33kms, and this was the race that Sarah & Rosie had entered.  

At the start line in Minehead

The distance and timing of the race – 6 weeks before the Dragons Back – meant that this was an ideal “B-race” for me in my training schedule leading up to that main objective for the year.  Given this is the first running of the SWC2C, there were no historical results on which to base my expectations, but I had decided on a somewhat arbitrary target of 13 hours.  Although the course has 2,000m of vertical climb, most of that is in the first quarter where the route crosses Exmoor, and I expected that the remainder should be relatively quick running.  My actual time was 13 hours and 17 minutes – slightly outside my target – but I tracked the schedule at each checkpoint with remarkable accuracy until the last 10km.  Having run well for 11 hours I really ran out of steam after Exeter, and my jog became so painfully slow (7:30/km) that it was barely any quicker than my fast walk (9:30/km), so I gave in to temptation and power-hiked to the finish. 

Dunkery Beacon, the highest point

I had done an Action Challenge event before – the Jurassic Coast 100k – and so knew that their events are very well organised and have extremely well stocked aid stations, probably because the majority of their participants are hikers (or jog/hikers).  This SWC2C definitely lived up to those expectations.  Because I was running on a relatively fast schedule I did not even stop at the first two aid stations, and only took on water at the third.  I did take 10 minutes at the halfway point at Tiverton to get some proper food (chicken curry and rice), and also at Thorverton to change a wet sock that was beginning to cause blisters, but I didn’t really have a protracted stop until the 80km mark at Exeter.  Here I very much enjoyed some delicious freshly baked pizza with a couple of cups of tea, and was delighted to meet up with Ric who had picked up Rosie and Sarah from their finish and brought them to cheer me on. 

Pizza at Exeter

Pretty village of Bampton

The organisers had had to make some modifications to accommodate Covid restrictions, including staggered starts and not allowing supporters into the aid station marquees, but they had done a tremendous job in ensuring that the event ran smoothly and as closely to normal as possible.  As ever, all of the staff and volunteers were exceptional – cheerful, friendly and helpful.

  

Tiverton Castle, just after the halfway point

The Devon countryside is lovely and whilst not as spectacular as (say) the coastal path, the route is generally picturesque passing through some charming villages.  If I were to be critical, too much of the route was on the road for my liking – including some very busy A-roads often with no footpath – and it would have been preferable if those sections could have been avoided.  The signage was generally very good and easy to follow, although there was one section entering Exeter where the signs seemed to disappear at just the wrong time and I had to load the GPX file onto my watch to work out the right way to navigate the busy city centre.

The temptations of the Fishermans Cot at Bickleigh

Bickleigh Castle

The gates of Bickleigh Castle

One upside of passing though some busy urban centres was the support received from the general public.  I had quite a few people ask about the race and offer incredulous praise and encouragement.  Running past a packed riverside bar on the Exeter waterfront at 6pm I had the whole outside terrace stand and applaud.  (Somewhat embarrassing given my pathetically slow pace at the time!)  And at Dawlish Warren I had a very drunk woman insist on hiking alongside me for 10 minutes providing a gushing commentary – much to the embarrassment of her husband and two kids!

Cricket in the rain at Thorverton

Cockwood Harbour on the Exe Estuary

All in all it was an enjoyable day out.  The weather was not great with mostly grey skies and drizzle, but at least we mostly avoided the thunder and lightning that was forecast all day, and it was certainly preferable to the 30-degree heat of the previous weekend.  My performance was also very encouraging.  Whilst I missed out on my arbitrary 13-hour target, my time of 13:17 placed me 14^th overall out of 532 starters and 384 finishers, although to be fair many of those were “hikers” rather than “runners”.  I was also the oldest runner in the top 20, and second in a hypothetical over 50’s category.  To those that know about ITRA’s scores, at 509 this was my highest ever, and together with the Tsunami 60k result last month leaves me feeling I must be in decent shape for the Dragons Back Race in September… Not that I could have got up the next morning and done it all over again for another 5 days!

Sarah and Rosie also did exceptionally well finishing their 33km in 5 hours 13 minutes and placing joint 7^th out of 46 finishers.  This was well within their target time, and due to having a comparatively early staggered start, had the honour of being the first ever finishers of a SWC2C race!

• Distance: 102km
• Vertical ascent: 2,209m
• Time: 13:17:53
• Ranking: 14th out of 532 starters and 384 finishers (2^nd over-50s)
• Website: https://ultrachallenge.com/coast-2-coast/
• Results: https://livetrail.net/live/southwest/classement.php
• Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/5681111790
• Relive video: https://youtu.be/74IF0WRm2ZM

 

Tsunami Ocean Trails Ultra 60k

19th June 2021

The Tsumani Ocean Trails series of races is organised by Pure Trail Running (www.PureTrail.uk), a South Devon based outfit set up by two experienced trail/ultra runners, and focusing on trail running and events on Dartmoor and around the South-West.  The Tsunami series comprises events over 75 miles, 37.5 miles, 26 miles, 16 miles and 7.5 miles, all along the same stretch of the beautiful South-West coastal path between Bude and Westward Ho!, and all scheduled to finish at Bude Castle on Saturday afternoon.  I was entered for the 37.5 mile (60km) Ultra which starts in Westward Ho!, and Sarah was entered for the 16 mile (26km) race starting in Hartland Quay.

We picked this event because (a) the timing and distance fitted nicely into my preparation for the Dragons Back Race in September, (b) it had races that both Sarah and I could participate in – one of our resolutions given how much time she has given up to my race schedule in past years – and (c) this coastline has a reputation for stunning scenery and we were keen to visit it. 

The seafront at Westward Ho!

The races all had very strong local participation, and I sensed that the vast majority of the entrants were from the surrounding area – certainly the local running clubs all had a large number of entries, and everyone seemed to know each other at the aid stations. 

We stayed the night at a B&B in Westward Ho! so as to be close to my start at 7am on Saturday morning.  Sarah dropped me off and then went to sort herself out and get to Bude to park our car at the finish.  From there she could get a bus to her start at Hartland Quay.

 

The "Haunted House" at Seafield car park

My start line was in Seafield car park at the western most end of Westward Ho!, just beyond the last of the endless holiday villages and caravan parks, and overlooked by a derelict Victorian mansion claimed to be haunted and straight out of an episode of Scooby Doo. After a minimal race briefing from the Race Director, 52 starters were set on our way, and those aiming to play at the sharp end set a blistering place up an easy path leading to the cliff tops.  I had set myself a scheduled finish time of 9.5 hours based on the results from the last race in 2019, and an analysis of runners in that race who had similar results to mine in other races like CCC and SDW100.  I knew that in 2019 this finish time would have placed me in the top 20, so I slotted myself into about 20^th position and hoped that represented the right pacing for me.  In retrospect I may have been over-optimist and my pace over the first 18km section to Clovelly was under 7 minutes/km and probably too quick for what was turning into a very warm day.

View from cliff top towards the white cottages of Clovelly and Hartland Point in the far distance

Buck's Mills

This first section was perfect with some lovely running in shady woods along the cliffs. After dipping down to Peppercombe bay we passed through the impossibly twee little hamlet of Buck's Mills.  I had fallen into running with a chap who lived just outside Westward Ho!. It was his first ultra and he was keen to have a pacer; his knowledge of the route was quite useful for me.  

The first aid station was at the traditional picturesque harbour village of Clovelly.  Our route didn’t take us down to the seafront because that was the starting point for the marathon, with their route leading up the famous cobbled high street to join our path on top of the cliffs.  I arrived at 9:03am, just after the start of the marathon, and ran right into the middle of their pack.  It felt strange to be suddenly surrounded by runners.  Rather annoyingly this caused me to switch off meaning that I blindly followed a group of 30 marathon runners as they carried on straight past a right turn sign.  It was about 5 minutes before someone realised that we had made a navigation error, and after a bit of checking the GPS we backtracked having wasted 10 minutes and adding an unnecessary 1.3km.

Once back out onto the cliff tops, the next objective – Hartland Point – was clearly visible in the distance ahead of us.  Hartland Point is where the Bristol Channel meets the Atlantic Ocean, and is famous for the Grade II listed lighthouse built in 1874.  More visible – and ugly – is the modern Civil Aviation Authority air traffic control radar tower next to the lighthouse. Resembling an enormous white golf-ball stuck on top of a concrete pillar, apparently it can be seen from 10 miles away.

Hartland Point

At Hartland point the coastal path turns south and starts to become even more rugged and spectacular, and the comparatively “easy” running of the past 30kms would now become more challenging with steeper stepped descents down to pebbled coves, followed of course by sharp climbs back out of them. 

Looking back at Hartland Point from Hartland Quay with the CAA "golf ball" just visible in the far distance

The next aid station was at Harland Quay, 2km past Hartland Point, which I reached in 4 hours and 25 minutes, 30 minutes ahead of my schedule.  This was the start for Sarah’s race, and she had set off about 40 minutes before I arrived.  I would pass many of the runners in her 16 mile event over the following hours, although I would never catch Sarah as she ran the remainder of the route 20 minutes quicker than I did.

 

I was able to keep up a decent pace to the next milestone – a water station at Welcombe Mouth, a ridiculously pretty little shingle bay with a small car park reached via some stepping stones.  With it now feeling very hot in the strong sun and with little breeze, the runner in front of me decided to ignore the stepping stones and go for a full wade and cool off in the stream.  I erred on the side of caution wanting to protect my feet by keeping them dry.

The water station and stepping stones at Welcombe Mouth

Over the next 5kms to the aid station at Morwenstow, I started to really feel the heat of the day and my fast pace during the first 40kms.  My legs were cramping on the large steps up and the steep descents, and I was working my way rapidly through my ration of salt tablets.  My pace slowed from between 8 and 9 minutes per km to over 14 minutes, and for the first time other Ultra runners started to pass me.  I was nearly an hour ahead of schedule at Morwenstow, but from then onwards I was really just battling to lose as little time as possible.  Fortunately the truly spectacular views gave me plenty of excuses to stop for a breather whilst taking photos.

Morwenstow church

Just over the border from Devon into Cornwall, Morwenstow was a lovely surprise.  It is (another!) extraordinarily pretty little village with an impressive Norman church – St Morwenna and St John the Baptist – and an absolutely stunning old Vicarage.  Apparently it was once the home of the eccentric vicar and poet Robert Stephen Hawker, the writer of Cornwall's anthem "Trelawny".  Next door is the 13^th century Rectory Farm with its deliciously inviting tea rooms.  

Sadly the aid station in the tea rooms’ car park was not quite as inviting and not nearly as well stocked.  The marshals were exceptionally helpful, encouraging and welcome, but COVID restrictions meant that aid station supplies had to be limited with just pre-packaged snacks to eat, and water, squash or coke to drink.  It was not a major problem as I was carrying sufficient food, but at this stage some fresh fruit or strong cup of tea would have been most welcome.  As had happened to me in the past in “hot” races I was struggling to eat my usual foods and I failed to eat anything from this point until several hours after the finish.  I need to find something my body will accept in warm sweaty conditions.

 

GCHQ satellite dishes at Cleave

My pace over the final 12km remained painfully slow – over 10 minutes per km. I just about managed to run the flats but had to hike anything uphill and the steep downhill steps were particularly painful.  There were a couple of vertiginous descents into coves, including down to the last water stop at Sandymouth, which also appeared to be very popular with the Cornish surfer crowd.  We passed the impressive radio dishes of the GCHQ satellite ground station and eavesdropping centre at Cleave Camp.  Eventually a gradual grassy slope led down to the cutesy seaside tourist town of Bude and the finish at the Castle.  The wonderful thing about this being a “locals” race was that the route through the town and the Castle grounds was packed with family and friends cheering their runners home and there was a super atmosphere at the finish.

Duck Pool from Steeple Point

I was slower than planned over the last section but still managed to finish 40 minutes ahead of schedule at 8 hours and 49 minutes.  I was ranked 21^st out of 52 starters, and was first in the over 50’s category, just one minute ahead of fellow veteran Jon Meek. Jon and I had been playing cat and mouse over the past 25kms with never more than a few hundred metres between us, and the two of us regularly comparing notes on our various cramps on the steep descents.  I was quite chuffed that I managed to just stay ahead of him over the run in to the finish.

Sarah had a great day as well, finishing her 16 mile race in 4 hours and 5 minutes, 35 minutes ahead of her most optimistic schedule, and she looked fresh as a daisy when she met me at the finish.  She placed 44^th out of 82 starters and 4^th in the female over 50’s category.  She absolutely loved it.

 

In summary, this was a super race.  Relatively low key, with a smallish field, and basic aid station supplies, but super-friendly volunteers and participants.  The star of the show is the stunning north Devon and Cornwall coastal path with its spectacular views of the rugged cliffs, shingle coves, and pretty little villages.  As a “B Race” in my preparation for the Dragons Back it ticked all the boxes – a tough workout with lots of steep vertical.  Whilst I certainly couldn’t go out and repeat the exercise for another 5 days, I will not be racing as hard or fast in Wales.  I certainly set a pace over the first 40km that was too quick for a warm sweaty day, and I paid the price for the last 20km, but that was a good test of how much I had in my legs at this stage of my training. All in all, a great day out!

• Distance: 61km (including the nav-error detour)
• Vertical Ascent: 2,500m
• Time: 8:49:02
• Ranking: 21 out of 52 starters and 48 finishers (1^st in over 50’s category)
• Website: http://www.puretrail.uk
• Results: http://www.puretrail.uk/wp-content/uploads/2021/06/Tsunami-Ultra-2021-Results-with-DNFs.pdf
• Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/5496536571
• Photos: https://photos.app.goo.gl/KMTBxxFPKUvqW4NW6
• Relive Video: https://youtu.be/ZZcTkk75cs4

A Dream Fulfilled - UTMB 2019

Ultra Trail de Mont Blanc, 30 Aug – 1 Sep 2019

The result 

UTMB Finish Line in Chamonix

Let’s get the big question out of the way first. I finished the UTMB in an official time of 42 hours and 43 minutes (although my watch time was 3 minutes shorter as it took me that length of time to cross the line at the start). The official distance was 171.5km with just over 10,000m of vertical ascent and descent, although my watch recorded 178km and 10,200m of climbing. I was 979^th out of 2,543 starters and 120^th (out of 460) in my age category. 

Goals and targets 

Those are the hard numbers, but the important question is “how do I feel about it all?” Absolutely delighted! Just finishing this race was for me a long-held dream finally fulfilled after years of planning and preparation.

I have been in awe of the UTMB ever since we just happened to be in Chamonix during the third edition in 2005. It was a considerably smaller affair then, but I recall quite clearly my incomprehension that anyone could run for that long, or that far, and climb all those mountains, without stopping or sleeping. These people represented a different species from me. Of course that was long before I had any interest in endurance events, and if you told me then that one day I would take part in the UTMB, I would have asked for one of what you were taking.

The UTMB also holds special appeal for me because in many ways it is my “home town” event. Having spent considerable time in Chamonix over the past 15 years, I know well most of the trails and mountains, and once I started doing ultra marathons, it was only natural that it would nag away at my consciousness. 

Although at the time it was not a fully formed plan in my mind, “Project UTMB” probably started over three years ago. Having run a few ultras and accumulated sufficient qualification points in 2016, I put in a speculative entry for the 2017 edition of the CCC (Courmayeur-Champex-Chamonix – UTMB’s “little sister” at 100km). Surprised to win a place in the ballot, I trained for the race and had an amazing experience, absolutely loving it all. [Race Report]. After that there was little doubt that I would have to have a crack at the full UTMB. However, this is not a race that you can just enter. Once you have built up sufficient qualification points (from three authorised races of 100km to 100 miles within the past two years), you then have to enter a ballot with approximately a one-in-three chance of success. I was not successful in 2018, but that meant I had a double chance in 2019, and this time I was lucky.

I had set myself two goals for the race:

A.   To finish. The primary and most important goal.

B.   To have a “good race”; to feel that I have done myself justice; to do as well as I was able. A secondary goal to the first, but still an important one.

The first aim was of course achieved, but this should not be skipped over lightly. To even toe the line at the UTMB is itself a major achievement, requiring you to complete really tough qualification races, get lucky in the ballot, and train single-mindedly for 9 months or more, whilst at the same time avoiding injury and illness.

Once in the race, finishing is by no means certain, and this year only 1,555 (61%) of 2,543 starters finished the course. The number of finishers was considerably lower than previous years, probably as a result of the severe weather conditions on Saturday evening. I hope it does not sound arrogant, but there was no point during the race when I seriously doubted that I would finish. I had done the training, I was in good shape with no injuries, and I managed to keep decent headroom versus the cut-offs – as long as I could stay awake, and avoid an accident or a major breakdown, I was going to finish. Of course there were times when I was exhausted, or when my legs were screaming “enough”, but the key is to not let your mind find excuses for your body to give up – mental resilience is everything.

The fine weather meant stunning views: Monte Bianco from the Courmayeur ski area

Goals and targets – a “good race”?

What about my secondary objective – did I feel I had a good race?

I had set myself a somewhat arbitrary target time of 42 hours, based largely on the results from the previous year’s race, and my feeling of where within the overall field I would hope to be placed. I wanted to set a plan that was achievable, and thus would provide me the positive reinforcement of being “ahead of schedule” during the race. At the same time I wanted something sufficiently ambitious and, importantly, with sufficient headroom against cut-off times in case anything went wrong. I hoped 42 hours was the right balance, as it represented (based on 2018 results) the 40^th percentile of starters and 56^th percentile of finishers. This was not quite as highly ranked as my CCC performance in 2017, but much better than my result in the 90km du Mont Blanc in 2018.

As it turned out I made an error in my calculations. For the first third of the route, my actual timings were pretty close to the schedule (getting 15 minutes behind at Chapieux, but being back on schedule by Col de La Seigne). However, after Col de La Seigne as we passed into Italy, we had to climb a further col (Col des Pyramides Calcaires) which, due to bad weather, had been cut from the 2018 race, and which therefore was not properly accounted for in my timings. As a result I was over an hour behind at the next checkpoint at Lac Combal, and I was unable to make up much of that deficit through the remainder of the race. So the bottom line is that I missed the 42-hour target by nearly three quarters of an hour.

Leaving Lac Combal with the Col des Pyramides Calcaires in the background

Despite missing my target time, I do still feel that I had a “good race”.

1.    Whilst I missed my target time, my ranking in the field (38^th percentile of starters) was marginally better than my target.

2.    Throughout most of the race I was making progress through the field – from being 2,350^th at the first checkpoint in Les Houches, I rose to 1,207^th at the “nearly half-way” mark in Courmayeur the next morning. I reached a highpoint in ranking at 925^th just before Trient on the second night, before stabilising and fading slightly over the last morning to at finish at 979^th. Such steady progress through the field always gives me a positive feeling about my performance.

3.    Although a much more subjective measure, I felt that I finished “strongly” with a decent final climb, and running most of the final descent from Flegere all the way to a sprint across the finish line. Struggling over the line tends to leave me a little down about my effort, whereas finishing strongly typically gives me a much warmer and satisfied feeling.

4.    Given I finished strongly, maybe I could have gone a little faster if I had pushed harder. However I do not think I could have gone that much faster, and there was certainly a point in the race where I became risk adverse – making sure I got the finish by not taking risks on the descents.

5.    In a strange way, I quite enjoyed the race, and this is usually a sign that it went reasonably well. It seems that I am smiling in every photo that was taken of me. It was a long slog but I never really had to run through real pain. My lows were not as low as I feared, and the highs higher than I could have hoped. So, yes, I enjoyed it.

Always smile for the cameras!

Impressions of the race

The UTMB is a crowded race. It is a massive event with a large field on narrow trails, and the competitors do not really spread out until well over half way. There was only one point over the whole race where I could not see another runner directly in front or behind me. It is not a race for those looking to get away from the crowds. 

Emotional atmosphere at the start line

However, the crowds are also one of the UTMB’s greatest assets. At the start, supporters packed the church square, were hanging from every balcony and vantage point, and were several deep along the barriers all the way through the town. The atmosphere at the start was spine-tinglingly emotional, and I confess it brought a lump to my throat. The crowds at Les Houches and St Gervais were just as impressive, and even at small villages in the middle of the night there would be small groups of supporters cheering manically. How can you not enjoy a race with such support?

UTMB is also a truly international experience. It passes through three countries, and 80 different nationalities were represented at the start line. Unsurprisingly the French were by far the largest contingent (35%). There was a decent show from the Brits with 136 of us, including Tom Owens and Andy Symmonds who would come 4^th and 5^th respectively. It is a measure of the increased popularity of our sport in Asia that there was a massive number from China – if you include HK, China had 202 participants, second only to France, and over twice the number from the USA.

The weather conditions were generally good, and in retrospect amazingly good compared to the wintery snow that arrived in the Alps the following weekend. However, Saturday was hot with highs of around 27 degrees, with little by the way of a cooling breeze. It was too hot for my comfort, and I resorted to stopping at every stream from Bertone to Arnouvaz to dip my hat and buff into the cooling water. 

Thunderstorm clouds gathering at the Col de Ferret

As the forecast had warned, the thunderclouds gathered early on Saturday evening, and they erupted just as I passed the Col de Ferret, the highest point on the course. With lightning igniting directly above our heads, accompanied by simultaneous and deafening thunderclaps, there started a storm of biblical proportions. Hail stones the size of small marbles rained down with such force that I had to cover my head with my hands to stop the pain of them hitting my skull. The storm turned the mountain paths into a cappuccino torrent – dark muddy waters topped with a white flow of hailstones. The skies were black, the mountains turned white, and we all got absolutely drenched. Many people decided to take shelter and wait it out. My preference was to get low as soon as possible and I ran the descent to La Fouly as fast as my legs would allow. It was tricky going and I saw many runners slip and slide significant distances on their backs over the moving slopes of mud. There were rumours circulating that some competitors had to be helicoptered off the col in a serious condition, but I do not know whether that was true.

As I had expected, the aid stations were generally well organised and efficient with an impressive stock and range of foods and drink. The marshals and volunteers do a stupendous job. However, I found the aid stations much busier that at the CCC two years before, and was disappointed to have to scrum to get to some of the food tables. Maybe I was just in the busy part of the race? Sadly the marquee at La Fouly was simply not large enough to cope with the ever-expanding crowd of runners and supporters escaping the heavy rain. It resembled a field hospital with stricken runners lying shivering under emergency blankets, and sodden clothes hanging everywhere. I had hoped to do a full kit change here to get into something dry, but given I couldn’t even find anywhere to sit down I gave up and decided to carry on and wait until Champex.

View of Courmayeur valley from Bertone refuge

Race tactics - Pacing

Chatting to Neil, my coach, a few days before the race, his last minute advice was to start really slowly. He warned me that the emotion and atmosphere at the start tends to get the adrenaline flowing and too many competitors tear down to Les Houches and up the first major hill at PB pace, putting them into the red far too early in the race. 

Based on this advice I made sure I was near the back of the field at the start, and kept a really easy pace for the first hour, using the opportunity to stop and say hello to the many friends who had come to watch the start and cheer me on. In retrospect my start might have been a little too relaxed as there were less than 200 people behind my at the first checkpoint and I was getting on for 15 minutes behind schedule. Realising this I ran the first descent down into St Gervais a little quicker than I should have, and the impact on my quads would be felt the next day.

One of the real benefits of starting towards the back of the pack is that you spend much of the race overtaking people and moving up the rankings. I find that having “targets” ahead of you makes the climbs easier, and of course the positive progress through the field helps with the mental battle. I gained a massive psychological boost from this which lasted until the last third of the race, at which point I had probably reached my natural position, my ranking stabilised in the 900s, and I had to deal with the negativity of being consistently overtaken myself by other stronger athletes. My impression at the time was that hundreds of people were going past me and that I must be plummeting down the rankings, and it did become pretty depressing at this point. However, in retrospect, my ranking was not falling significantly and I was of course benefiting from the “unseen” overtaking of others who were resting or abandoning. Sarah was excellent at making this encouraging point to me whenever we met at aid stations.

Race tactics – Aid stations

The old village of Dolonne before Courmayeur aid station

Neil had also warned me to be very disciplined at aid stations, to prepare ahead of arrival a mental check list of things to be done, and to try to get in and out as quickly and efficiently as possible. I managed to be very efficient for most of the first night, running straight through Les Houches, and spending just a couple of minutes at St Gervais, Les Contamines and La Balme. However, after this I found I needed far more time at the aid stations than I had budgeted for. After the steep technical descent into Chapieux my legs badly needed a rest and it being 3:30am I also needed some food. I lingered there for over 15 minutes. Later that morning at Courmayeur I was probably in the worst state of my whole race, and needed a good rest and quite a bit of assistance from Sarah – it was my longest stop at around 50 minutes. Knowing that I had wasted a lot of time there, I started focusing again on quicker stops, and this worked well until Arnouvaz at 4pm on Saturday. After a long hot day in the sun I was badly overheated and desperately needed a cool-down, so I rewarded myself with a 25-minute unscheduled rest in the shade. I had always planned for Champex to be a longer stop because it is an important two-thirds point just before heading out into the second night, and thus I would needed food and rest. However, feeling exhausted and very sleepy, I took twice as long as scheduled. The story was the same at Trient. By Vallorcine I knew that the finish was there for the taking, but my target time was beyond reach, so I relaxed and enjoyed the stop chatting to friends and eating fruit. 

Leaving the Col Checruit aid station, one I managed to run straight through

My schedule had budgeted for 2 hours at aid stations – I knew from experience at the CCC that this was optimistic, but had hoped that I could be more efficient this time. In actual fact it was the opposite and I spent a slightly embarrassing 4 hours 25 minutes at the stops. Whilst at the time I really felt that I needed every one of those minutes, and looking around me I was aware that most competitors were taking just as long – if not longer – there is no doubt that if I was looking at how I could improve my time in future races this would be the number one place to start.

Race tactics – Sleep deprivation

Linked to the issue of time at aid stations is the question of whether or not to sleep during the race. I had previously completed a number of events that ran through one night, but never before had I gone through two nights. Advice from Neil and others was that it was better, if possible, to try to get around without sleeping at all. However, if I felt that I was so sleepy that my progress was grinding to a halt, or it was getting dangerous, then I should stop for a maximum of 10 minutes for a “power-nap”. To sleep for longer would risk going into a deep sleep from which it would take longer to recover. In the event, whilst I did feel pretty spaced-out on the second night, I was able to get through without a nap. Many competitors did decide to sleep – whether it be a deliberate tactic or an unplanned necessity – and I lost count of the number of people I saw lying down in aid stations, or just curled up under an emergency blanket by the side of the trail. In retrospect I think my tactics were probably right for me, but I do wonder whether I might have been stronger – and faster in the long run – if I had taken a 10 minutes power-nap.

Sunrise over Courmayeur from the Col de Ferret

I had read many wonderful stories about the various hallucinations that result from sleep deprivation, and in a strange way was looking forward to experiencing the weird and wonderful. I did not experience real hallucinations – I did not see anything that just was not there – but I did notice a real deterioration in my brain’s capacity to accurately and speedily process sensory inputs. Someone sat by the side of the trail turned out to be a rock with a branch over it. A phone charger lead in the path turned out to be a twig. An information sign turned out to be an interestingly patterned tree stump. The next checkpoint turned out to be the red rear head torch from another competitor. A big crowd of supporters ringing cowbells turned out to be, somewhat obviously, just a herd of cows. There were just too many instances to recall them all, but I did pass some hours amusing myself at the unlikely things my brain thought my eyes were seeing.

Race tactics – Ascending and descending

Contemplating the last big climb

Whilst recognising that I am always going to be a back-of-the-packer and never going to be competitive at the sharp end of a race, I have always prided myself on being a good climber. I have become used to at least holding my own on the ascents, and often being stronger than most. I am not quick, but I have a good engine and seem able to keep going for hours at a decent tempo without having to stop. This is an important attribute in a race with over 10,000m of ascent, and in which I would spend over 20 hours marching uphill. The longest single climb (from St Gervais to the Refuge Bonhomme) would take over 5 hours. My climbing ability was the reason that I was able to move up through the rankings, and I improved my position on every single climb with the exception of the last big one from Col des Montets to Tete aux Vents.

Conversely, I know that I am not a great downhiller, but I did not realise quite how deficient I was until this race. I lost places on most of the big descents, and I realised early on during the tricky and steep run down into Chapieux that this was going to be a significant problem. Not wanting to be pressured into going faster than I was comfortable with, I was frequently stepping aside off the narrow trail to allow faster runners pass. Why am I so slow going downhill? There is no doubt that I need to work harder on my technique. It is also true that I was suffering from sore quads from that first descent into St Gervais. However, I think the biggest factor was my mental approach to the descents. I was so desperate to finish this race that I was taking the descents very conservatively. My mind was telling me that it was not worth risking a big fall or a turned ankle that could end my race just to save a few minutes. However, those “few minutes” on each descent added up over the whole race. My mind was also telling me to protect my quads for later in the race, and indeed on the last descent – when there was nothing more to save them for – I flew down quite happily. Back on technique, I had been using my poles quite extensively during the descents to protect against trips and to take some of the weight off the quads. In retrospect I think the poles reduced my descending speed significantly. On the last two downhills I stowed the poles and tried to run them properly, and it actually felt more relaxing and less hard work. It might have benefited me – physically and psychologically – to have taken this approach earlier.

Running from Refuge Bertone up the Ferret valley with the Col at the far end

Race tactics – Nutrition

I am usually lucky in that I am able to eat well when running. This race was an exception. All started OK with me consuming chocolate at St Gervais, some biscuits at Les Contamines, some soup at La Balme, and then some more soup and Chapieux. I was aware that things were not quite right at Lac Combal where I was unable to convince my stomach to accept my usually trusty ginger Hard Bar, and then the wheels came off at Courmayeur where Sarah’s carefully prepared breakfast was reproduced in the middle of the aid station. Thankfully the runners who shared my table were very understanding – guess they have seen it all before.

A race powered by oranges and melons

Following this I really struggled to eat anything except fruit. Oranges tasted great, and melon – both the watermelon provided by the aid stations and the cantaloupe brought along by Sarah – were delightful. I also managed to mix in the odd gel with the fruit to boost my sugar levels. However, anything at all solid (including banana) felt just too dry in my mouth, and I was unable to swallow it without washing it down with water. Sadly this was not an option because too much water hitting my stomach was what caused the vomiting at Courmayeur. I did manage some noodle soup at Champex and some black coffee at La Giete and Trient, but basically mine was a race powered by oranges and melons.

It still amazes me that the body can generate so much output – my watch tells me I burned 14,000 calories – on so little input. Saturday felt incredibly hot and I think becoming massively overheated was part of the problem with me not being able to eat. I was pretty worried because I have seen firsthand how an inability to fuel can derail a race, but thanks to Sarah keeping me supplied with fruit, somehow I managed to keep it going. Looking back, I think it also helped that my body had been healthily fed in the two weeks leading up to the race with Sarah preparing lots of specially balanced meals from the Runners Cookbook.

Crew and support

There are 5 major aid stations where you are permitted to receive assistance from your “race crew”. I was exceptionally lucky to have Sarah crewing for me, and she met me at four of these stations – the first at Les Contamines was too early into the race to warrant her getting the bus there. Having crew at an aid station is a massive positive. A friendly face is an enormous boost to morale, so much so that I found myself counting down the time to my next meeting with Sarah. When your crew is as organised and sorted as Sarah, it also really increases efficiency at the stops. Whilst I spent much longer than I had planned at the major aid stations, I know it could have been twice as long had Sarah not been there to help. 

Ahead of the race we had sat down to discuss what spare kit I wanted her to bring and in which bag each item was packed. We also wrote a list of the things I would need at each aid station and the things she should check for me. I knew that by the second night my brain would not be working properly, and that she also would be pretty tired, so by having lists we could ensure nothing major was forgotten. This worked pretty well with one small but potentially disastrous exception. I had made the mistake of using a red dry bag for the kit I carried in my race vest, the same colour as the dry bag Sarah was using for her personal belongings. In my state of limited consciousness, a mix up was inevitable, and I grabbed the wrong bag off the table at Champex and Sarah was not able to get the right one back to me until Trient. It did mean that I carried totally a superfluous towel and a sewing kit on that leg, but was missing much of my mandatory kit. Fortunately Sarah also had a head torch in her bag otherwise I would have been, literally, left in the dark.

My race crew extraordinaire made it all possible

Quite simply, Sarah did an amazing job – efficient, organised, businesslike, supportive and encouraging but not patronising, and not bothered by my lack of “pleases” and “thank-yous”. She also had the added stress of driving around narrow mountain roads in the small hours of the morning, whilst worrying about my progress and being on time for the next rendezvous. She had little sleep on the first night and none on the second. It was an extraordinary performance by her and I cannot thank her enough. She has made many sacrifices over the past years in order for me to realise my dream, but she also played a very active part during this weekend to help me get the job done. It simply would not have been possible without her.

I was also exceptionally lucky to have many other friends come out and support me at various stages of the race. The Wilson family and the Andrews/Gaunt family cheered me on at both start and finish. Mike and Tessa saw me pass through Les Houches, met me again at Col des Montets and also at the finish. Rosie and Ric flew out specially to watch the race, meeting me at Vallorcine (thanks again for the peach!), Col des Montets and also were at the finish. Rob and Ali drove all the way around to La Fouly in Switzerland to meet me there, and got stuck in this dead-end valley due to a landslide blocking the road. Fortunately they had their campervan so were able to stay the night and the road was cleared the next morning in time for Ali to get back to see me finish. Neil was also there with support at Les Houches and at the finish line. Every one of these friendly faces was a incredible boost, and knowing that they were there supporting me redoubled my commitment that I just had to finish – letting them all down was just not an option. Thank you all.

One of the wonderful aspects of UTMB is that it is really well set up for friends and family to follow online with a live tracking website and little video clips of runners arriving at each major check point. I have lost count of the people who have told me they were checking my progress through day and nights. I had turned my phone notifications off to preserve battery, but Sarah passed on all the messages of encouragement. Again, this was an enormous help and a massive thank you to all my supporters from home.

Finally, I must also give thanks to Neil Bryant my coach. His training plan got me to the start line in great shape and free of injury. Back in February when we started working together, he promised me that he could get me to a UTMB finish, and he delivered on that promise.

Links

Race details: UTMB

Photos album on Google Photos

Video montage on YouTube

GPS track on Strava