Dare to Dream - Slaying the Dragon 2024
November 2023 and the confirmation email had just landed in my inbox. I had a place in the 2024 Dragons Back Race, the toughest mountain race in the world (although to be honest I think there are a few that claim this!).
My running was just getting back on track after 6 months of injuries over the summer, including an encounter with a big momma cow where I came off significantly worse (but that’s another story). It meant I had pulled out of the Summer Spine Challenger and a few other events in between and was in need of a renewed fire in my belly - and in my legs!
Managing to persuade my long suffering family that the race entry was the perfect gift for my 50th Birthday seemed like a good idea. In my mind it meant they were 100% behind me and invested in the process with me and I felt marginally less guilty for taking on a challenge that would require a pretty huge time commitment over the coming months.
This adventure had been on my bucket list for a long time. The idea of traversing a country from top to bottom on foot, over 6 days and some of the most remote and mountainous parts of Wales had always piqued my curiosity. And now I had the audacity to think I could be part of it.
I had the best part of a year to train and get my head around the enormity of this first venture into multi day events. The Dragons Back Race is one of those events that you don’t dare to think about too much from one training week to the next. It’s not until that last recce was done and I realised I was going to get to the startline fit, healthy and injury free that I actually allowed myself to get excited.
Training had gone well, I had recced most of the route, had spent many many hours in the Welsh hills and stayed in quite a few quirky local pubs. I had also picked the brains of many inspiring Dragon Slayers and felt well armed with their generous offerings of advice and uplifting stories.
As the calendar clicked into September and with the school uniforms ready and ironed it was just the small matter of packing my drop bag to weigh in under 15kg that stood between me and that startline. It will be no surprise to those that know me that this was actually not a small matter, and turned out to be a rather heartbreaking exercise that saw me kiss goodbye to many of the delicious food items that I had persuaded myself were essential to my nutrition plan - tangerines, apples, ginger beer, Coke, custard and packets of Peanut M&Ms were one by one removed until I hit the magic number, 14.5kg - just a little wriggle room.
I was ready. Or was I?
The day before: Imposter syndrome
I was lucky enough to travel up on the train and share an AirBnB in Conwy with a friend who was well versed in the way these things work. Pam has been a dedicated volunteer in previous years on both the Dragons Back and the Cape Wrath Ultra. It was lovely to see her in her element, enjoying being welcomed back by so many folk who were excited to see her on the other side of the fence this year - participating in the Hatchling. Pam was clearly extremely well liked and respected, she kindly introduced me to lots of people and helped me get to grips with registration and all the final admin. She even invited me along to join them all for dinner to load up on some carbs and try to dissipate the nerves. It worked, to an extent, but did also leave me fighting the usual imposter syndrome…do I really belong here? Should I not have earned my place by volunteering, would I be seen as an outsider, perhaps I don’t deserve to succeed this year, a first attempt failure is part of the rights of passage etc. etc.…you get the idea.
Time to quieten the mind, focus on the work I had put in and try to get some sleep.
Day 1: Belonging
Day 1 Crib Goch
Conwy Castle to Nant Gwynant 49km (30.5 miles) | 3800m (12,467ft)4.30 alarm, better get used to these. The rain that we had all expected was yet to arrive and we enjoyed a warm and still walk to the start and the much anticipated atmosphere inside Conwy Castle. It did not disappoint and will stay with me forever. Towering walls, twinkling lights and a flag for every nation taking part framed against a dark but clear sky. The mellifluous Welsh choir voices reverberated around the crowd and connected us all with a warm glow and sense of calmness. Families and friends exchanged final words of love and support and there was even a wedding proposal! I fought to keep the emotions from spilling over, determined to soak it all in with a smile on my face and a light hearted positivity that would serve me well.
A final countdown and a nervous shuffle over the startline and we were off. Slowly making our way around the narrow castle walls, taking it all in, no rush until we spilled out of the final tower, onto the freedom of the streets just as the light was lifting. Finally we could start moving. The first few steps on this epic journey to Cardiff.
As soon as I started running I felt more relaxed. The relief to be moving freely amongst the heather clad hills. Despite the rain that had started, I felt full of joy. The smile on my face was natural and instinctive, and would stay there for so much of the time.
I had walked through this day so many times in my head that I hardly needed to look at my watch or map. And with lots of people around me it was lovely to trot along exchanging a few words here and there but not too much - testing the waters and settling in. I spotted another Green Runners badge and enjoyed a few miles together. I was proud of myself for breaking from the pack in the rain and hitting the first little racing line tip bang on, a good sign and before long we were ticking off the Carneddau, imagining the beautiful view that we could see nothing of in the clag, and were soon making our way down the slippery technical descent off Pen Yr Ole Wen. The last two times I had done this were in the dark on Paddy Buckley support duties so it was a novelty to actually be able to see how to pick off the numerous stream crossings. My VJ IRock shoes were a winning formula on all this terrain, from damp rocks to wet grass I felt confident and sure footed. I hoped that would last.
I had also met Jo by this point. A level headed Scottish orienteer who lives in Sweden. Easy to talk to, quick to have a laugh and clearly at home in the mountains with many years of fell running and orienteering under her belt, we seemed to be quite evenly matched. After some all important banter with the amazing volunteer crew at the support point, Jo and I slotted into a good pace together for the march up Tryfan, tough but as expected. As we got to the top the cloud lifted to reveal the gnarly descent and immediate climb straight back up to the Glyders. Huge but awesome!
I think it was about this time we properly connected with Ben too. With a smile almost as broad as his shoulders and an easy relaxed manner the three of us fell into a natural pattern together that would become such a crucial part of this adventure. But for now we were happy to chat or just enjoy comfortable silence ticking off the miles, stomping up the hills and navigating with ease. Icecreams, cake and friendly faces at the water point set us in good stead for the daunting ridge of Crib Goch, the technical Carnedd Ugain and the highest point in Wales, Yr Wyddfa (Snowdon). I took a lot of strength from the recce I had done a few weeks earlier with Stu, holding on to the feeling of elation we had at conquering our fears together. I didn’t allow myself to think beyond the next step, the next hand hold. “Believe in your capabilities, keep moving forward, don’t look down, get on with it and it will pass” I kept saying to myself. And it did, relatively quickly and with no dramas. I felt strong and confident. My ambitions of flowing not fighting were so far working and it felt great.
“I do belong” I found myself saying to myself, and I was loving it.
Without wanting to dampen this high I have to admit the final descent into camp was an absolute pig! So steep, so much mud, so much cursing. I felt desperately for the people behind who might have to deal with this in the dark. But camp curiosity called us down, there were chips to enjoy, camp mates to meet and sleep to be had.
Jo, Ben and I all shared a mutual appreciation of one another's company at the bottom and after a slightly hesitant sussing out of the situation it was a resounding ‘yes’ all round for more of the same tomorrow. We would meet at 6.15am to do it all again. The tribe was forming!
11 hrs 35 mins. A good first day. I’ll try and shorten the accounts from here!
Day 2: Happy Place
Cnicht
Nant Gwynant to Dolgellau 59km (36.5 miles) | 3000m (9,842t)
I didn’t get much sleep, I regretted not packing a pillow, my knees had been painful all night and it all just felt a bit strange. I had met a few camp mates but some had unfortunately missed the cut off at Snowdon and were already tucked up, battling with their disappointment, and the others all crept in quite late, including my lovely pod mate, Seema, who that night was a complete stranger whose head was literally inches from mine as we tossed and turned and tried to move on our airbeds with minimal noise (impossible by the way!)
The 4am alarm was actually a welcome end to the night. A quick and quiet pack up, speedy breakfast and the comforting thought of meeting Jo and Ben for a day of tough but spectacular climbing. Day 2 is my favourite day and it didn’t disappoint.
The beautiful wooded path from the road was bouncy and forgiving, the weather was improving all the way and by the time we got up to Cnicht we had glorious views all the way out to the coast and across the technical ridges we had mastered the day before. Spirits were high and despite nearly being wiped out by over zealous bum slidders off the back of Cnicht, all was going according to plan.
I still felt in flow and Jo and Ben were the perfect companions. We had also met the forever upbeat John on this section and we pushed and pulled each other through any little low moments that morning. The lines that I had found so difficult to find in recces came easily and visibility was good. Seeing Russell in the vale of Ffestiniog was a real boost, as was the effervescent energy of the ‘waterboys’ at Maentwrog. We had come to really look forward to seeing them and it readied us for the slog up the road to the reservoir and the new section.
I remember Elsa Morgan whipping past us with her light, dancing gait not long after this point. Without really thinking I picked up the pace and enjoyed bouncing in her slip stream for a while until Jo called out “are we racing then Nina?”.
I purposely hadn’t wanted to look at the race standings but a friend had messaged to say Jo and I were 5th females and for a few seconds it crossed my mind, but no. I had not come to chase places. I had come to work hard and race myself but not at the expense of enjoying the experience as much as possible. I already knew that the journey I was on with Jo, Ben and John was how I would find that enjoyment. We were a team and this had already become a shared endeavour. The thought of racing was not a patch on the idea of seeing this through with these guys. And we all know that ‘comparison is the sucker of joy’ right.
So “no Jo, we are not racing for places!”
I enjoyed watching Elsa skip off (she went on to place second in the end and seemed to get quicker and more graceful as each day passed - I would have had no chance of keeping up and would have ruined myself in the process I’m sure of that).
Good visibility and some good lines across the top of the new section meant the beautiful lunch spot at Cwm Bychan was soon in our minds. As always the talk turned to food and thoughts of a break, a sit down and a recharge spurred us on.
After a nourishing lunch (warm noodles were a total winner by the way) we set off to enjoy the expansiveness of the Rhinogydd. I missed the reliable short cut at the top of the Roman steps, again! But didn’t dwell on it, we were moving well and by the time we hit the summit of Rhinog Fawr the sky was clear, the views were spectacular and the colours of the heather and rocks in the sunlight were beautiful.
We picked off climb after climb. This day is full of surprises, there is always another false summit, another ascent that you’ve forgotten, another knee crippling, humbling descent to test your resolve - but this is what this race is all about and I was in my happy place.
I still felt strong and if the heads went down the intuitive teamwork kicked in. We would lift each other up, listening to John's entertaining stories; to Jo’s rants at why her good friend, Shane Ohly, had made it so hard, only to laugh it off a few minutes later; to Ben’s lighthearted giggle that defied his unwavering determination. And with the usual ‘it goes on a bit’ final descent we hit the forest track, picked up the pace and committed to the long tarmac path into camp.
12 hrs 12 mins. Another good day.
The knees were sore and I was feeling the need for a good night's sleep. I focussed on camp admin - a soak of the legs in the river, a trip to the medics to get my name on the list for the morning, good food, an injection of love from all the Dragon Mail messages, some pain killers and early to bed.
Day 3: Chips, ice cream and tears - my tribe.
Cadir
Dolgellau to Ceredigion 65km (40.3 miles) | 2800m (9,186ft)
Grrrrr…another sleepless night spent waiting for the alarm so I could get up and moving. An organised start to the day, included a trip to the medic tent where my lovely friend and highly skilled physio, Laura, worked wonders with 4 bits of tape (I will never doubt the effectiveness of Kinesiology tape again!).
I was looking forward ro Day 3. It was the food shop day, and that meant a lot to me!
Jo, Ben, John and I all set off together A pretty overcast start to the day meant Cadir Idris was a bit of a damp squid but was chuffed to hit some decent racing lines off the top, made good progress and soon found ourselves arriving at the water point where word had spread that the local cafe were putting on extra refreshments - rude not to! I walked up through the woods happily munching and sharing my bag of chips, and dreaming up a list for the shop just before the lunch point. It was a bit of a slog to get there and of course there was an inevitable ‘longer than I remembered’ road section into Machynlleth, but it was worth it.
Pasta pesto salad, boiled eggs, spicy lentil crisps, an iced coffee and…ice cream! Joy. And it was about to get better. Only an hour earlier Ben had solemnly admitted that even though his folks lived quite near he was only expecting to see one friend on Day 5 out on the course. Again not to dwell, never mind, crack on. As we rounded the corner out of the town there was a shout of his name and there they were - mum and dad. Nothing like seeing a tough marine sobbing in his mom's arms. And of course that set me and Jo off. Yep another affirmation - I had definitely met my tribe.
We had a long lunch enjoying the high of Ben's surprise visit, the goodies from our shopping trip and the sun that had made an appearance.
The afternoon was long but enjoyable. Chatting easily, getting to know each other more and enjoying the thought of a dry camp for a change. And when it came into view it looked so inviting. Nestled on a sunny plateau, with a river flowing through, a cluster of trees glowing in the sun and the long evening shadows. There were even people sitting looking relaxed in chairs outside the tents. It almost resembled a holiday camp.
11 hrs 20 mins. Sadly the sun didn't last long and the camp was wet again but the pasty and peas were delicious and I had had some time to meet a few more of my awesome tent mates and get a sense of the camp camaraderie that I hadn’t really experienced yet. The tape seemed to work on the knees and there were more encouraging Dragon Mail messages. I felt content to get into bed feeling so loved by all my friends and family, it really does make the world of difference.
Day 4: Tarmac tantrums
Road!
Through the Elan Valley 69km (43 miles) | 2300m (7,546ft)
The less said about day 4 the better. I knew this would be the worst day for me. I had been dreading it ever since the recce and it wasn’t much different.
It started ok with a pretty impressively steep descent through a forest with broken branches and lethal head height spikes ready to take your eye out at every turn. I managed to whack my foot on a stump on the way down which I tried to shrug off but only added to my rising anxiety about the discomfort I had started to develop in my right ankle. Every impact would send a sharp pain up through my lower shin that was definitely taking its toll on my enjoyment. I realised the paracetamol party was about to begin and was worried about the impact on all the tarmac that I knew was coming.
And come it did. Out of the woods, we followed the wind turbine tracks and across some fairly nondescript, boggy moorland that sucked you in and was also pretty brutal on the ankle. Then we hit the road. A fairly somber lunch spot in Elan village (although the pasta salad was delicious) and I was briefly buoyed by the thought of the lovely little copse of trees and pretty views over the reservoir, but I was really having to work hard to stay positive. This was the day the smile faded to a grimace for much of the time.
Yet again ‘Caz and the waterboys’ (no they haven’t been on Top of the Pops!) were a massive and well needed boost but it was head down from there to the end. Grin and bear it. I was so grateful to have the power of the group. We worked well together and tapped it out but we were all struggling and were slow.
There were a lot of tantrums about the tarmac.
“This is not a mountain race”
“This is torture”
“They really need to let you have another pair of road shoes”
“Who trained for this much road” etc. etc.
Better out than in. We channeled the frustration to get us round, clung on to any off road section and used the poles to tap out any slight inclines.
The chimp management tactics also came into play on this day. A good friend had given me a bright red nail varnish for the event and I had decided to just paint the nail on my middle finger to signify ‘f*** off’ to the chimp when it threatened to derail me. It proved a pretty good tactic to remind me that my rational brain was in control and that although not necessarily the enemy, the chimp would sometimes want to take over and shut me down. I had practiced what I would say to my chimp to keep it on side. So we worked together, the chimp and I, and my 3 companions. We got it done.
11 hrs 20 mins. I went straight to the medics, more strapping, some stronger painkillers and a plan to leave bang on 6am to give us max time to make the cut off on the infamously brutal Day 5. The sting in the Dragon's tail that can so cruelly get the better of people 5 days in to a 6 day event. No let up.
Day 5: Not my shoes
Fan Y Big
Bannau Brycheiniog (Brecon Beacons) 71km (44.1 miles) | 3200m (10,499ft)
I had been looking forward to Day 5. An epic day that spans the whole of the Brecon Beacons, that felt like home ground and was the perfect terrain for me. I knew I would sense the finish when I was up there.
But the reality of waking up on the morning of Day 5 was very different.
I had taken a codeine the night before, desperate to get some sleep and although it did help I woke feeling out of sorts, my head was thick, everything felt stiff, puffy and tight. My ankle and foot were so swollen I could hardly get them into my camp Crocs, and my mind seemed to be on go slow as I hobbled around in the dark sorting out the prep for the day - eating, cleaning, charging tech, packing bags, filling water, deflating beds, mixing electrolytes, just the usual morning routine!
The last thing I did was swap from the comfy Crocs and squeeze my fat feet into wet, boggy trainers to set off for what felt like an insurmountable task.
This was definitely the lowest moment for me.
We had a long stint on tarmac before the reward of the Brecon Beacons, every step was so painful, the swelling restricted the movement and I had almost no plantar flexion in that foot. My head was not in the game and for the first time the doubt felt real.
How could I do 44 miles like this? I was just going to be too slow, we would miss cut offs, I was going to have to let the team go on, I could not bear the thought of holding them up and risking their day.
I tried numerous ways to insist they go on but the reply came back everytime “not an option, you will be fine” and the more they said it the more I repeated it, over and over in my head. Like a mantra, pushing the pain to the back of my mind. I realised that the rest of me felt fine, my legs were good, my energy levels were ok, and actually I could still move quicker on the slight inclines, when the rest of the team were happy to walk, and then they would catch-up on the downs, when I was forced to slow. It kind of worked and slowly my head started to see a solution. I knew I had to at least make it to the hills and see what that felt like. My resolve to not give up returned, the self talk helped “stopping is not an option, adjust, make friends with the chimp, find a new normal, this will pass”.
There was of course also the bakery at Llandovery! Fresh croissants and cold drinks were a treat worth chasing.
As my mood lifted, I also started to think clearer and dial into the reality of my body and how it felt. It was at this moment that I realised to my absolute horror and embarrassment that in my diminished state that morning I had actually managed to put on someone else's shoes. I remember thinking they felt tight but my foot was so swollen that I thought nothing more. But they were the wrong size, the wrong brand and even a different colour, and by this point we were 5 miles in! What an idiot!
I was so mortified to think that I had left one of my tent buddies without shoes, well with my shoes but who knows what she would do with them. It was actually another incentive to pick myself and stop making excuses. I was a fool but here was nothing I could do about it now. I would just be eating humble pie when I got back.
Once I stopped dwelling so much on my own suffering I also tuned into Jo, Ben and lots of people around who were also struggling with the enormity of this day, diminishing energy levels and various injuries. They were just as bad as me, we were all in the same boat, we needed each other and we would get through this together.
The croissant, quiche and cold drink in Llandovery went down a treat. I noticed some people didn’t stop, fearing the grim reaper in the form of cut off times, but we all knew that a good feed here would lift our spirits and energy for the hills, and it did.
It was a tough day for so many people, the descents were excruciating but you just keep moving. The volunteers did their thing and were always a welcome mood enhancer and there were a few surprise moments from friends on the hills for Ben and Jo that filled me with warmth and determination.
It was lovely to see my tent mate Laura looking so good and getting stronger each day. John had also pushed on once we hit the hills, he was feeling good and was a much quicker descender than us. He had conserved his energy so he could have some fun on the back half of the day, knowing that if it all went wrong he was probably still safe. Thinking of him skipping along the ridges up there, with glorious views all the way across was a lovely thought. I also hoped that Seema, small but mighty with her steely determination was still going strong and would crawl in beside me this evening with Day 5 under her belt. As we reached the last water point it was clear it was going to be our longest day out by far. The top of Pen Y Fan brought a warm embrace from mountain guru and Bat friend Tim Laney who was reassuringly on mountain safety duty. It served as a good reminder that there were plenty of people still battling to make the cut offs behind us - they are the true legends of events like this.
The final stretch was one I had recced with Finn, and just as memories with Stu had served me so well on Day 2, now I could visualise him running in front of me, his gentle smile and easy gait showing me the way down.
I remember my friend Sophie warning me about finishing Day 5 in the dark - the end is a horrible, awkward, muddy clamber along the river - and unfortunately we did end up doing it in the dark, and the rain, but by now we didn’t care. We would be finishing Day 5, that was all that mattered.
John was there to greet us, although he got short shrift from a less than happy Jo…we knew she would bounce back after a cry on Shane's shoulder, the fact that she wears her heart so openly is something we had all come to love and enjoy.A team embrace and then off for the usual camp admin, with the nice feeling that it was the last time!
Oh and of course the humble pie, I was really hoping my tent mate would go easy on me, my resilience was so low I think I would have cried like a little girl. Of course she couldn’t have been more decent about it, something I feel I didn’t really thank her enough for at the time but that's what happens when you are broken.
And I was even more heartbroken later when I saw Seema in the medic tent - she had timed out at the last water point. She is an absolute legend and I think given the extent of the injuries and eating challenges she was dealing with it is probably a good thing. She was incredibly dignified, but clearly gutted. I know she is not allowed to tell her family but I am sure she will be back to slay that Dragon one day.
14 hrs 55 mins.
Day 6: Just f***ing do it
To Cardiff Castle 65km (40.3 miles) | 1300m (4,265ft)
I am not going to go into detail on this day. Honestly it was a means to an end. It wasn’t pretty. Not the route or us. John was paying the price for his fun the day before, Jo had also developed tendonitis in her ankle and Ben was stoic as ever but the brightness in his smile had gone and he couldn’t hide his emptiness. We were all broken in our own ways and not quite close enough to the finish for the adrenaline rush to block out the pain. It was just a dogged determination to get the job done.
We often moved in silence, feeling supported without having to say anything. There was no way we weren’t getting each other through this, At times people would try and stick with us but couldn't keep up with our synchronised march. At other times people would come past us and we would happily stick together and let them go with a comforting sense of what each of us needed.
The power of the group. There it was again. We adopted the run walk train that had got us through Day 4. Well it felt like a run until we passed through Merthyr parkrun and people out for their Saturday morning runs. I looked at them, remembering when I used to be able to lift my feet up like that. I couldn’t ever imagine being able to do it again! The ultra shuffle was all I knew.
We were counting down the hours in between painkillers and would sometimes call upon Ben’s Marine PTI duties to keep us in line. That always made us laugh and kept us going for another few minutes. Slowly, slowly we ticked off the miles. We began to sense the end. I started to feel the waves of excitement about seeing Stu, imagining his embrace, how proud he would be, how invested he had been in all the dot watching and how I wanted to share all the details with him.
But there was also a slightly strange feeling too… a fear of it ending. The privilege of being with these three people, removed from the realities of life, no other worries, nothing else to think about, totally present through the highs and lows. It is a uniquely special thing to experience. I felt hugely grateful and although every step was the last one I ever wanted to take I also didn’t want our journey to end.
But after the inevitable Dragon's Back parkrun (5 km that feels like it goes on forever) it did end. 10 hrs 38 mins.I can recall fondly the little moment we all took to straighten out tops, put away our poles, wipe the sweat from our brows and gather our emotions for our finish line glory. We could hear the commentary and cheers, we could taste the victory. This was our moment. We ran four abreast across that finish line and embraced at the end. No words necessary. We had slain the Dragon together.
Chris and Adele, Kerry and my Stu - all there. The tears flowed. So much relief. So much love for them. I knew I had done something really tough. I had dug deep. I had experienced a new depth and risen above it. I had been stripped raw and built myself back up. This was an achievement I could feel really proud of.
The Dragon was slayed together.
I dared to dream and with the right team it became possible. Thank you to you all.
Reflections
Now the swelling has gone down and my body returns to normal, my mind starts to erase the pain and it is the memories of the people both on the hills and at the finish line that give me a lump in my throat whenever I think about it. I am still allowing myself to feel proud, and mostly proud about doing it in a way that may have emptied me physically but emotionally and spiritually has filled my heart and soul.
There were times when it felt just too hard to be enjoyable but never did I not want to be there because those are the times when change happens, when you learn things about yourself and create memories that you will carry with you forever. The deep lows and also the joyful highs when you feel the power of human connection and how much we can achieve when we work together. We all have the natural ability to heal, to support each other when times are tough or when there are insurmountable challenges to face.
I will be forever grateful to Jo, Ben and John. I will treasure the memories and the bonds we formed on those hills for the rest of my life. No one can take these away.
So that's it, in the spirit of the challenge itself, that write up ‘went on a bit’, and if you are still reading here I am sorry!
Some less self indulgent useful stuff
Here is a summary of what worked well for me and what didn’t. Please feel free to reach out if there is anything you want to know. I would be more than happy to share my thoughts and insights if they can help.
What went well:
Training and recceing - I had put in the hours and worked hard for this event. I really enjoyed Russell Bentley's coaching style. I trusted his advice and steadily and consistently prioritised the time and ticked off the sessions. I had also recced 80% of the route and that made a huge difference for me. It built my confidence, helped me feel calmer but it had also forced me to put myself in some hard situations in the training. Out on the route, on my own, navigating in foul weather, waiting on the sides of roads in the pouring rain for buses, carrying a heavier pack with overnight kit etc. Doing all this hard stuff in training meant that the event itself really did feel like the reward. Certainly until the ankle started to give me trouble the event felt easier and more enjoyable than the training.
Food - I am a real food and lots of it kind of girl. My stomach is normally pretty solid but I have had problems in previous races so this was always in the back of mind. Warm spicy noodles that I made each morning in my insulated coffee cup and put into my drop bag were a winner. So too the rice pudding, the peanut butter wraps and the mixed bag of lucky dip trail mix. I had panicked at the last minute, seeing everyones nutrition strategies on Instagram and brought some back up gels. I know I can tolerate the more natural Veloforte Gels, especially diluted in water, but to be honest I didn’t really enjoy them or need them and forgot about them after the first couple of days.
Shoes - I had brought various shoes from Vinted in the year leading up to this event and fretted about finding the perfect shoes. Spoiler alert, the perfect shoe does not exist for a race like this as there is so much varied terrain. But I got pretty close and was very happy with the awesome grip of the VJ iRock over the technical terrain of days 1 and 2. The trade off is little padding and less comfort so I then had the VJ Max for the later half. Again very happy with grip and comfort. In an ideal world I would have had a road shoe for the last day and some of day 4 but this is event is about making choices and knowing that you will have to deal with some discomfort i spart of it.
Feet - Not one blister. Not one. I don’t want to brag but I was pretty chuffed about this! I planned early and made a couple of trips to the podiatrist to remove hard skin build up and I did moisturise often in the last few months. But again, I also thank my training. I spent a lot of time on my feet, in the hills, on the terrain, in all sorts of weather and in the words of Russell “nothing prepares your feet better than time on your feet”.
Kit - I took enough kit to change my tee shirt every day and I am glad I did. I also decided to borrow slightly bigger tees from Stu and Finn that would cover my arms and shoulders if it was sunny. The unexpected bonus of this is that I felt like I had a little bit of them with me each day!
Not chasing places - this was the right decision and one I knew I would need to remind myself of at some point. The ‘flow not fight’ mantra worked well for me here in the brief moment when I might have tried to chase. I would definitely have been fighting and things would have unraveled pretty quickly! There is a big difference between racing, for yourself or the team, versus chasing places. The former is in your control, pushing yourself to be the best you can be, the latter depends on how others perform and often out of your control.
Mantras and positive self-talk - it is not only your physical fitness you need to train for an event like this. It is also your mental fitness. I spent a lot of time getting to know how my self-talk works, getting to know my chimps, taking time to think about how I might adapt to things that could happen, testing self-talk strategies. Don’t leave this huge part of the training out.
Time at support points and volunteers - the are absolutely crucial to an event like this and they were awesome - they brought joy every single day. The same people were in the same roles each day and this really worked for me. It meant we would look forward to seeing the familiar faces, would spend time to engage and enjoy their banter and support. To be honest Ben, Jo and I would often find we would get taken over at the lunch stop as we always made sure we sat down for what usually became about 15 minutes. It was also a lovely time to connect with other runners that you weren't on the hills with. Most of the time we would catch those people back up in the afternoon, feeling fresh and energised after a good rest. The volunteers on this event are world class and I am eternally grateful to everyone of them.
Team work - I am not sure I need to dwell on this. I found my tribe on those hills. And it came in the form of Ben, Jo and John. I know I am the sort of person that thrives in small intimate groups rather than big crowds so in hindsight it is no surprise that I stuck with this team. This supposedly solo sport quickly became a team endeavour.
What didn’t work so well:
Sleep - I would take a pillow next time and get used to sleeping with an eyemask and earplugs. I didn’t use either because it just felt like a hassle but probably a mistake
Camp admin - despite all the tips and advice I still found myself faffing too much. Reducing the weight of my drop bag meant I had only taken one bowl, and a coffee flask that doubled as a cup, but this meant I was up and down like a yoyo, back and forth to the tent and spent way more time on my feet in the evening than I would have liked. The preconception of lying on my bed, chilling and listening to music was not the reality!
Pain relief - I would have taken a bigger stash of paracetamol and codeine
Strength & conditioning - I mentioned the training above but one aspect I sometimes scrimped on was the Strength & Conditioning, I was doing a couple of short sessions a week and would build things like Pistol Squats into my runs but more plyometric work and specific ankle strength and mobility is something I would commit to more next time (look at me already talking about next time!)
Tent time - I was sad that I didn’t get much time to bond with my tent mates. The nature of the hatchling timings meant we were usually on differ times tables so it was just down to the logistics really but this was something I had heard lots about and was looking forward to. They were a lovely bunch of awesome women and I felt I missed out on getting to know them better. But you can't have it all and what I missed in camp I gained in spades on the hills and that was the true winner here.
Please get in touch to ask me anything else you might want to know.
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