UTMB 2023

I ran into La Contamines and knew it was over. I'd limped to the start line and after 3 miles I knew deep down I couldn't finish. I pushed and pushed to mile 20 to the point my foot couldn't take any more pain and I still tried to persuade the medic to tell me it would all be ok. Maybe I could walk it, yea walk another 85 mile on a mangled foot. It wasn't to be. I saw my pal Ercole in the aidstation and he took me back to Chamonix. My 2022 UTMB was over. It actually took me several weeks to build back up to even an easy jog. To be honest It took me week just to be able to walk to the end of my street. Plantar Fasciitis had dogged me all year and would do for months to come.

I had a couple of UTMB stones to use so put my name in the hat again for 2023. I wasn't even fussed about the race but leaving it on a DNF doesn't sit well with me. I got in and decided this needed to be done. I needed to prove to myself I was better than this. I could go, finish and put UTMB to bed once and for all. 

My return from injury was going well. I got through the Thames path 100 slowly but surely in horrendous conditions then had a really good run at the North Downs Way 100 but that only left me 4 weeks to UTMB. I wasn't going to let that phase me, I was sure I could recover enough to enable me to get round. I'm also trying to raise some cash for charity this year so that was extra incentive to get on with it. 

The sun was absolutely baking, I was packed on the start line along with several thousand other runners and there was still over an hour to go. Someone snapped the tape holding us back from the elites and everyone surged forward. We had an hour standing nose to tail waiting for the clock to tick away. I had a rather annoying lady in front of me who thought jumping up and down, dancing and continuously grabbing her friend two rows back for selfies was fun. I felt stressed, hot, stressed and dehydrated. Mind you I had slightly too many local ales the night before which in hind sight wasn't my greatest move. The clock finally reached zero and we were off. 

The red hot start line

The start was manic, people pushing and shoving and me desperately trying to create a bit of space. If someone catches your heal and you lose a shoe it would be a nightmare. I mean a literal living nightmare. We ran out of town and immediately I backed off from the sub 7.30 min mile pace being laid down. The run to Les Houches is fairly flat and a good chance to settle in. I was sweating buckets and struggling to get my heart rate down. I saw Tony Trundley and some other Brits on the first climb, their cheers were a great thing. After the buzz of the start and seeing friends there was no taking away from the fact I wasn't feeling great. My heart rate was through the roof, sweating to saturation and my legs felt dead. The climb up the first hill seemed longer than I had remembered. It's roughly 4 miles of constant up with maybe 5000ft of climb from Les Houches. Upon reaching the the top we turned off to descend steep grassy banks. I felt I was holding back too much and putting too much strain on my quads so I let go a little and virtually sprinted down towards St. Gervais. I would pay for this later. It was getting pretty dark under the cover of the trees and headtorches were going on, I didn't want to fall so I put mine on too. St Gervais was buzzing with crowds. I would have usually bowled straight through but I needed to rest a bit and made sure I had plenty of fluid. Also the Voom bars I had brought as part of my nutrition weren't going to work. They were leaving my mouth dry after each square, far from ideal and they had to go. The organisation offered Naak products so I grabbed a bit of each and walked out of St. Gervais eating. Mind you it's hard to walk when a whole town is screaming for you to Go!

I was already having negative thoughts, I felt knackered, had nothing in my legs and was seriously considering dropping. All I could think was if I dropped at La Contamines its an easy out from there. Just a bus quick bus journey back to Cham. First of all I had to get there. St. Gervais is the lowest point on the course so it's just up from here. Luckily the run to the next checkpoint hasn't got much climb so time to settle in a bit. We were soon back on the trail and I was moving along ok. Slow but ok. Then in one swift action I went from running to being flat on my face. My foot had caught a root and I landed on solid rocky ground. My knees bore the brunt of this. I was helped to my feet and was telling everyone how fine I was but man that had hurt! I was winded and my right knee had taken a massive knock. I felt shook up but jogged on immediately. In the confusion I'd also managed to rip my number off. I was having a massive low point and we wasn't even 20 miles in. As I entered La Contamines I'd already decided I was carrying on. If nothing else I just wanted that feeling of leaving the CP I hadn't managed to leave 1 year previous. The checkpoint was heaving, people were pushing and shoving, the tables were three deep with runners. It was mental. I restocked with water and then started on the coke. UTMB have started using soda stream style coke that they make themselves and it is truly awful. I love normal coke on a run, cheap coke will do but this stuff wasn't pleasant at all! My nutrition had taken a hit with the Voom bars not working, the Naak bars weren't very palatable either but Naak do a apple and maple syrup puree which had a weird twang but this stuff would work. I was also having the soup that they offer which is really just a stock cube in water. It is incredibly salty which is good and they had plain pasta that you can put in it so it was a mini meal. My nutrition plan now was 1 Gu every hour which I was carrying, a puree every hour and bulk up with soup, pasta and coke. The amount of people was doing my head in, I went out the back of the Checkpoint to sort myself out. It was now getting cold so I put on my arm sleeves and wind gillet, I pinned my number back on and had a look at my knee. It was bleeding but it just looked like skin missing plus the knock it had taken. I decided against getting it cleaned up as I had wasted enough time. I walked out before I had chance to change my mind. 

Mont Blanc

I knew a massive climb lay ahead, I ran for the first few miles and there were supporters everywhere. They were screaming too, not just ringing a cowbell these people were loud! Then the trail suddenly rises this is the start of the climb to Col du Bonhomme. It was a clear night and I could see a snake of headlights far away and up to the sky. This is something I really don't like about the UTMB experience. You never feel alone, not just that but for the most part you are in a line of runners. The climb is relentless but luckily it is broken up by an aidstation at La Balme. It was now pretty cold and the higher we climbed the colder it got. By the time we reached the misty cloud it was freezing and windy. I put another layer on as the wind chill easily dropped below freezing. As we neared the top there was a guy just laying down. Everyone just passed him by. I had to stop and check on him and try and persuade him to move. He didn't understand me and looked like he had little intention of moving but he seemed ok. I left him, rejoined the conga and moved forward toward the summit. It was a massive relief to pass the Col and for a while the ground levelled but still climbed slightly through the mist to the highest point of Croix Bonhomme. Now I could descend and felt pretty strong finally reaching the 50k point at Les Chapieux. 

I was feeling pretty strong after the extremely sketchy start and was running well through the night. My plan was to arrive in Courmayeur in around 15 hours. However as the night progressed my desire to quit came to the fore again and by day break all I could think about was getting to half way so I could pack it in. It was a nice over cast morning so the temps were cool which was a real bonus but my mind was playing games. As I started the descent into Courmayer I was battling with my self once more, searching for reasons to continue. Ultimately I needed to get this done. (a) It would leave me 2-1 with UTMB and there is no way I could leave it on a DNF so I'd have to go through everything again. (b)The disappointment would be crippling and ruin the rest of my holiday. (c)I'm trying to raise money for a charity and a dnf isn't worthy of donations. (d)I'd bought a t-shirt and a mug for €50 ffs! The reasons to quit just didn't stack up except I was tired and bruised. I'd already come half way (nearly), it wasn't going to be pretty but if I left the Courmayer aid station I knew I'd just plod on and get it done. I ran into town and into the aid station. I'd arrived in 15 hours 15mins so bang on target really.  It was rammed and hot inside, I found a space on an already over subscribed picnic table and emptied my drop bag. I opened my giant can of monster and downed it. Shoes and socks off, clean feet and fresh socks. Clean t-shirt, hat and buff. Restock gels and repack bag. It was obvious to me the next 100k was going to be slow so there was little point wasting time in here so I dumped my bag and set about re-fuelling, I still wasn't up to eating much but some soup and coke would be enough to get me on my way. I stood around just looking at the food but it wasn't going to happen, I needed to move on, commit to finishing and get out of here. 

It was really quite hot and I knew this next climb up to Refuge Bertone was a tough one.  I got my head down and cracked on. Funnily enough the Spanish lady from the start line had been on my table in the checkpoint and a guy who was obviously her crew had been helping her out. Well that man was now her pacer, I'm not sure how that works. As the climb wore on I happened to bump into John Knapp who was out hiking before his Tot Dret start in a few days. It was a real lift to see him although I was in a bad way. I was unable to hike up without having a break every other switch back. We chatted briefly before I pushed on. I reached Bertone and sighed a relief as from here there is a beautiful undulating section to Refuge Bonatti. You run along the hillside with the beautiful mountains off to one side. It is lovely. My running wasn't a thing of beauty and I was really slowing. I felt like I had no power in my legs and my quads were shot. I jogged along as it was fairly flat but the trail was super busy with hikers. I passed Bonatti and had it in my head that it was the big climb up Grand col Ferret now but no you have to drop down to Arnouvaz first. As I set off I knew this was a biggy and prepared myself mentally for the massive climb. It was relentless and took me ages. It does slightly flatten at the top and you can see the orange tent at the top from a fair distance away. I was exhausted though, my legs were wobbly and weak at the top. I think the altitude has a bad effect on your legs, the reduced oxygen just weakens you so much. 

I wandered through the Col and the prospect of a 6 mile descent hit me. First off was La Fouly which is about 4 mile downhill. I really struggled all the way down and my legs were so weak and time was ebbing away. A quick pit stop and off I went again. I couldn't really remember the next bit but its a long steady descent before a climb to Champex lac. The descent is lovely and at the bottom there is a pretty village where luckily I had the fore sight to fill my bottles in the village because there is no checkpoint down there before another big climb. The climb to Champex lac is about 3 miles and by the top I was very tired. The light was fading now and although I wasn't really suffering with sleep demons I was starting to have problems with my thought process. At points I didn't really know what was going on and the course had confused me. I only remembered 3 big climbs to finish but that didn't include the climb I'd just done. 

Checking the damage at half way

It must have been about 8pm as I left and this was fast becoming a hike to the end. I was jogging super slow on the flat bits, walking the ups and my quads were in a state now so I was kind of half walking half shuffling the downs. One of the things I was shocked about was the amount of litter on the trail. This section was particularly bad, I understand that a few bits get dropped but there must have been a wrapper every 10 metres. I was soon through the next checkpoint which was at the foot of the next climb. I didn't relish this one as there is no Checkpoint until the bottom of the mountain the other side. I hiked up the side of the mountain and this seemed like the hardest climb yet. I was simply exhausted and the trail was strewn with sleeping runners. I was chatting to myself  and trying to talk French to myself for some reason. I had slowed so much that I was forever pulling over to let people past. It was a weird atmosphere, very quiet but with loads of people in a line but silent . There was no escaping the conga just yet. The descent down the other side was no faster for me I was just doing enough to shuffle down and was relieved to reach Trient. 

I left Trient very quickly, it was the only way to make any decent time although I was fairly sure I could get round under 40 hours still. Again I saw a crew member getting ready to pace a couple of runners. Bold as brass. I was slightly annoyed but really not my problem my concern was to get to Vallorcine. After a short flatish section the trail becomes very steep and for the first time I thought I might have a nap. I sat on a log and put my face in my hands, I closed my eyes for about 30 seconds and just jumped back up and carried on hiking. I actually wasn't as sleepy tired as I thought, probably just as well to crack on and get this climb done. The last one had taken about 4 hours to get up and over and this one was probably about the same if a little more. I was unable to run down at all now so the route down to Vallorcine was so slow. I was having this weird sensation of mild hallucinations and talking French to myself although I can't really speak French. I also felt someone was with me not in person but kind of in spirit. It was so strange even to the point I'm struggling to explain it. It was as though someone was there and we were chatting but I knew no one was physically there. Weird! Vallorcine was relatively quiet when I arrived and the conga had dispersed a bit. 

With just one climb to go it was best I hurried on. Vallorcine was not how I remembered it at all. I was having real concentration issues now but I seemed to remember just going straight up from the checkpoint but this wasn't the case. We went along the foot of the hills for what seemed miles and because the field had spread a bit I was having a real issue with where I was, where I was going and what I was doing. For a long period I thought it was a party I was holding and all the other runners were here for my party but I just couldn't work out why we weren't together. Every so often I would snap out of it and say aloud that I was in a race, I was going in the right direction and everything was fine. After what seemed an age of going along the foot of the hills we started going up. It was now daylight after two nights out and I pushed the hiking as hard as I could but after a while we started to descend again. It was a horrible descent to all roots and rocks. My legs were so blown it took me absolutely ages to negotiate this section. I was proper pissed off, I just couldn't move at any pace at all. As we rejoined another made trail we started climbing again. We finally left the trees and I could see Flegere at the top of the slope. A final push up the rocky path and we were at the summit and final aid station. It was about 39 hours now and had I been able to run I may have broke 40 hours but instead I shuffled and walked for the next hour and a half just to reach the bottom. Finally I reached the town but my legs were screaming, my feet were so sore I could barely walk and I was fatigued badly. It took everything I had to jog slowly into town and past all the crowds. Tony was there to cheer me on which was great and I rounded the last corner before jogging up the final straight and over the line. It was done in 40:47:22. 

The end. 

I sat in the hot sun and had a cold beer. I was relieved it was over and couldn't wait to have a nap which I did soon after my beer. I lay on the grass outside bag drop and grabbed 20 minutes. Heaven. 

I'm very hard on myself when it comes to races, if everything goes well and I perform to the best of my ability I'm happy but when everything goes tits up regardless of the result I can't help but be disappointed. Both times I've finished UTMB I've had a rough time. I think the altitude has a lot to do with that. The lack of oxygen just weakens me and my muscles. I specifically work my quads out every week and they usually hold up but both times at UTMB they have blown. I'm writing this 10 days post race and my right quad still feels dead if I try and run. Also I was really lucky to get away with the fall I had. My knee took the full force of it. That was so close to being a race ender, again 10 days later and it still feels pretty weird when I run.  There is no taking away it is a bloody hard race and I did do the NDW 4 weeks previous so you kind of reap what you sow. On the plus side my Plantar behaved, it was like a tightened bow string by the end but it behaved. Considering after UTMB last year one physio told me my running days were over I'm happy to prove that theory wrong. Although I'm not happy with my time and how the rest of my body held up I am happy it's done because I'm not going back. 2-1 and done!

As for the whole UTMB juggernaut I think I'm done with that too. I love Chamonix week and will definitely return but not to run. I don't like the idea of commercial running organisations taking over. Its becoming less about the runners and running and more about how much money can be made from runners and running. There are a few organisations that I avoid and the UTMB grand finals has just joined that list. Plus I think I just like slightly more low key stuff. The crowds for the whole race completely done my head in. The start, the busy aid stations and the conga on the trail are all things I dislike. I've run races where I haven't seen another person for over 50 miles and finished races where the only two people at the finish are you and the Race director. I like that sort stuff.  

The 3 Peaks Ultra

I ran the national three peaks on my 40th birthday a few years back. It was a truly magical day, I had clear summits and just about got around them in daylight hours. The worst thing about it was the driving. My wife and I shared it but it was a massive ballache. Roll forward a few years and I saw an advert for a race in 2022, The 3 Peaks Ultra. Run the 3 peaks but run between them. This just totally appealed to me and I said there and then, "I'm going to do that". Sure enough two years later I was on the start line. 

So the format was a bit a weird one. Its a race but not a race. There is one main CP each day where you have to rest but you could set off at any point before 6am the next day. The race had been laid out to give us 10 days to complete and as long as you finished within 9 days you would beat the existing record for covering the 3 peaks on foot. The only grey area is how the record would be decided. Who would hold the record and how would they get it? I'd spoke to one competitor pre race who'd told me he was going to race off, ignore the checkpoints and go for the record. My thought was to just treat it as a holiday, forget the record, stick to the checkpoint times and have fun. Let's face it this was a multi stage race but just not called it for some reason. Another reason for taking it easy was the horrendous plantar fasciitis I had been suffering since the Arc. Just two weeks prior to this I had considered pulling out after a particularly painful 20 miler. I had been holding back tears of frustration and finally folded, conceding the 3 peaks wasn't going to happen. After a bit of coaxing I decided to toe the line and just see how far I could get.  

Day 1 Fort William to Tyndrum 52 miles including Ben Nevis

We met at the visitors centre at the base of Ben Nevis, 4.30am. A short brief from Mark the RD and we were ready for the 5am start. No bells, no whistles just a "go!" and we walked across the bridge which marks the start of the climb. Everyone resisted the urge to run we walked toward the first slope. I pushed on to the front and was walking with purpose with Mike Stevenson who I'd met the day before in my hotel. We chatted about literally everything and was in buoyant mood as the 5 mile climb quickly got eat away at. The climb up Ben Nevis is pretty easy and just a steady plod, the clear skies made the views spectacular. We soon reached the summit, the temperature had dropped and we were in the clouds. Across some snow patches and we summited, a quick photo before turning and starting the decent. After a few hundred yards Adrian Martin(another soon to be friend) came flying past followed by Chin Yong. I pushed a steady run all the way to the bottom. Nothing too much as I was super aware that I didn't want to get doms and have to try and recover from that. At the bottom Karen Webber was waiting with water and cheese pasties. A nice break after the exactly 10 mile mountain section was behind us. We walked on and joined the West Highland Way. 

It was getting hot now. The weather had turned out lovely, hot sun and not a cloud in the sky. The climb back out from the visitors centre was quite hard and went on for a while but was through some glorious forest trail. We hiked up and over the hill and ran some of the most gorgeous trail I've been on. Stony paths running between mountains with streams and clear blue skies. Mike and I were still together and was running with Tim Wiggins and Trish Patterson. We were just about ready for a drink and some food when we started the descent into Kinlochleven. 

We headed straight for the local co-op and filled up with water and food then doubled back through town and rejoined the trail. It was quite a climb back out of town and by this time I was really getting hot. The temperature was soaring, luckily I had my hat and arm sleeves. What I had noticed, Mike was a much stronger walker than me and could easily pull away on the ups whereas we were very even on the running although we were holding back and taking it as easy as possible. After a few miles we dropped off the hill and down the Devils Staircase toward Glencoe. In front of us stood Buachaille Etive Mor an absolutely jaw droppingly beautiful mountain. It literally blew my mind. I could not take my eyes off it. The sun was reflecting off the wet slopes, wow what a view. We ran along side the main road taking it all in and stopped again at the Kingshouse hotel, reloaded with drinks before hiking on up a very steady climb for an hour or more. The route dropped down to the Bridge of Orchy before the final 7 mile push to Tyndrum our destination for the day. 

I arrived at around 7pm. I was feeling slightly like I'd had too much sun. 52miles and 11000ft of climb and I was actually very tired. Time for a shower and some food which consisted of a baked potato with cheese or beans. Mark really felt like he was spoiling us. The room was small and full of furniture, we all squeezed in making makeshift beds where we could. I slept under a table but it was a rough night as there was a lot of noise but I felt quite content as we'd beaten a very hard day . Mike and I had agreed to get up around 2am for a 3am start.

13 hrs running for the day. 

Day 2 Tyndrum to Milngavie 52 miles

Trish who we'd run with on and off for the first day had asked us to wake her too so we could all set off together. I woke around 1.30 and even with loading my pack the previous evening I still managed to faff for the full 90 minutes to 3am. Eat four bits of jam on toast, drink two mugs of tea, pack and get out. I woke Trish about 2.30 and she was ready to go in no time. We left at 3. 

I must admit I was feeling rough this morning. I'd had a horrible nights sleep with the endless hours of snoring and random pack sorting at all hours. I'd also been caught out with a bit of heat exhaustion. My quads were sore too from the previous days 11000ft of ascent. 

A few other runners had gone already knowing what lay ahead. We walked out the door into the cool morning but my legs were not playing ball. Trish and Mike were able to walk so much faster than me. We were run walking but everytime we walked I had to push too hard to keep up. I decided pretty quickly I need to walk for a while to let them go so I could go back to running my own race. Back to basics, Walk the hills, run the flats and downs. As daylight arrived I was really suffering, my stomach twisted and my mouth filled with fluid. I started heaving over and over. I was fully going through the vomit motions with no actual vomit. It was very frustrating and equally tiresome. 

This went on for a while but started easing after time, passing the early starters and having a brief chat with them was also quite nice and took my mind off the other issues. After 10k or so I reached a camp site and found a tap. A small reset to rest for a minute and fill my bottles. I unknowingly passed Trish and Mike at this point and pressed on. I was still feeling the slump as I reached Loch Lomond, nausea, my core temperature off the scale and my sore legs were the main problems. The terrain along the Loch was much more technical now and was very reminiscent of the South West Coast Path. It was time to slow down and pick my way through. Trish and Mike passed me again as we reached the Inversnaid hotel but no sooner had they passed Trish took a big fall. She had turned her ankle and it had cracked. She was lying on the floor holding her face half in pain and half in despair knowing this could be a bad one. We got her up and hobbled to the hotel for a re group. There was no food available but we were able to fill our bottles. Trish was just like yea it hurts but lets crack on. 

The trail beyond the hotel remained pretty knarly and was really demanding. Climbing fallen trees, sharp ups, steep downs and roots a plenty. I was still lumbering along and it was annoying me now, I made a decision that as soon as some decent trail came I was going to run, properly. I had been lucky so far as I had been shielded from the sun by the hills. The cool weather had helped me recover a bit from the previous days heat. The nice trail appeared just before Rowardeman and I stepped on the gas. I was 26 miles in for the day and I ran a few good miles. This spurred me on and made me feel a lot more positive. The halfway aidstation van was perfectly timed. No pasties but plenty of water and crisps. I followed the WHW all the way to Balmaha. I'd put in some solid miles but on arrival there I found Trish and Mike were already there. They had followed the road which had been much easier going. I'd just followed the gpx and not thought to follow the map. I carried on following the road until it split off up another hill and on to some nice runnable trail. Again I could have taken the road but just hadn't looked. This way was nice enough though. The trail into Millgavie was straight and flat and about 10k, I ran the whole way to the end. I couldn't find the route to the end of the WHW but eventually worked it out. Through the town and on to the check point. I sat down with a cold can of coke and was mighty relieved the day was over. It had been a big day and I was glad to get my head down. My plantar was behaving too which was a massive bonus. 

12 hrs 25 min running for the day. 

Day 3 Milngavie to Beattock  63 miles

After sorting my kit it had gone 9pm by the time I had laid down the previous night. Mike had come in just after me and we'd had a chat about leaving early for the 100k day that lay ahead. I woke just after 12 so I'd at least got 3 hours of broken sleep. I got my kit together, had my tea and toast and we set off at 1.30am. 

There was no doubt I was walking to start today, we walked for a good hour stopping at a couple of garages for coffee and food. We weren't covering enough ground though and only just moving at 3 mph. I pretty much averaged 4mph the previous two days and that was my target. James Parsons and Cedric Touny passed us and we decided we ought to start running. We were just on the outskirts of Glasgow and due to hit the centre around 3.30am. I thought we may have encountered a few drunken groups and we did but we kept ourselves to ourselves and the only grief we got was someone shouting abuse from a window. I kept my head down and ran on. There was also a guy we passed, he had blood all down the front of him and had his fists firmly clenched. I made no eye contact and nor did Mike. Fifty metres later I said "Did you see that?" "Yea" was the reply. We started running again. 

We had a good run through the centre and caught James back up. No Cedric though, he had dropped with a leg injury as quick as that. Of the 32 starters about a dozen had dropped but most knew if they got through today they would probably be ok. James stuck with us and we ran walked our way right through Glasgow and its suburbs. It was probably about 20 miles or so to Hamilton and the built up areas became less and less. We were soon running down the side of a dual carriageway with a cycle path to one side. The route was undulating with quite substantial climbs but over a long distance. There were parts we were together and parts we were apart, it was as much as we could do to keep moving forward. If you had a good spell you ran, I put my foot down for a few miles but I soon felt crap again and the others caught me up. The heat of the day was really kicking in and there was no shade, the heat just radiated off the tarmac draining us more and more. At one point all three of us bonked at the same time. We were weaving all over, not speaking and moving very slowly. Endless miles of this torment passed by with the occasional wind turbine, pile of fly tipped rubbish or sun baked road kill to break the monotony. 

Around 50 miles in Karen and Carl made an appearance and I raided the van for water, melted Jaffa Cakes and crisps but it was enough to keep me going. We walked for about 6 miles up the side of the road. There was no path and it was all uphill. After reaching the top, James had decided he was running and took off down the other side. Mike and I ran walked but Mike was flagging and had no running left in him. He looked like shit and hadn't been wearing a hat. I think the sun had took its toll. I decided to run on, I just need this day to be over. It hurt to run but I ran all the way to Beattock. I walked in the checkpoint a bit broken, there were no shops just a village hall. I ate a cheese sandwich but I felt sick. It had taken us nearly 16hrs. Time to rest. 

15 hrs 20 min running for the day. 

Day 4 Beattock to Rosley 50 miles

We were all hurting now. Blisters, swollen feet, shin splints and the like. I'd never seen so much K tape being used! Luckily for me my feet were fine. No blisters and my plantar was behaving and dare I say it, improving. My doms from day 1 was feeling ok too. My main issue was a swollen knee, it was completely full of fluid and impossible to bend. Strangely it didn't hurt though, just a bit unnerving. I think the previous days road running had caused it, I stuck a tube bandage on it and hoped for the best. 

Today was another long hard day but I figured if I got today done my chances of finishing were pretty good. It was another 3 hour sleep night and I was up at 12.30 for a 1.30 start. For a while now I haven't run races with other people and I tend not to buddy up. I find a sure fire way of messing up your race is running someone else's race. So if it happens it happens but I always have it firmly in my mind to stick to my plan. Mike and I had run on and off for the three previous days and would start this day together. I had no idea whether we would stay together or split up but Mike is good company so I was happy to roll with it for now. 

It was dark as we left the village and no sooner had we started than we found ourselves walking up a main road again. We walked for about half hour and I was keen to get the legs moving and start running. Mike wasn't feeling it today, his blister hurt and he had a tendon issue in his ankle. After an hour of trying to get us running I decided I needed to trot on and get in my own head space to tick off some miles. A few short minutes later and I had lost Mike. 

The next town was Lockerbie and it had really motivated me that I would find a garage and get some coffee. As I got closer I realised the town was off route. I either had to go into town or just push on. I had planned to be self sufficient every day so apart from water and had enough food for the day. I decided to bypass Lockerbie and hope I could find some water pretty soon. The main road dragged on and on. I checked the tracker and James was ahead and Trish behind. Both too far to catch up or be caught for some company. I was running out of water fast and there was nothing on this section, in fact I had to run all the way to the half way point at Ecclefechan. Just the name Ecclefechan had tickled me and its all I could think about as I ran into town laughing. Karen was at the far end of the village so I dived in the shop for a Red Bull then pushed on to meet the checkpoint van. I suddenly realised whilst eating my squashed Chia Bar that I hadn't seen Mike on the tracker. Karen confirmed he had dropped. I felt sad wondering that if I had stayed with him, would he have dropped? I came to the conclusion that he may not have, but it was a decision he made and probably would have made it if I had been there or not. 

The road showed no signs of improvement as I headed toward Gretna, it was a dull carriageway, if pretty sketchy in parts. I turned a corner and all I could see in the distance was straight road. I was battling sleepiness at this point so decided to call home. I put my ear buds in and chatted to my wife for over an hour. It really perked me up, and certainly sorted the tiredness.  I ran into Gretna Green and crossed the border into England, another milestone. Such small things can really change your day. I started running pretty well again and my next target was Carlisle. This next section of road was pretty dangerous, 60mph, busy, no path and lots of bends in the road. There was 10 miles to cover on this road and I was really cautious, constantly crossing sides or jumping on the verge. I had my hi-vis braces on and really felt I needed them. Carlisle came soon enough and I kind of mentally switched off  thinking I was close to the CP. I actually had no clue where the CP was as the GPX often didn't go to them so I got Jacque to text me the address. I found a Greggs and bought a cheese pasty, it was actually worse than one of Karen's van temperature budget pasties. The cold Coke was nice though. 

A quick Google check showed me the CP was another 7 miles. 7 bloody miles! The route left Carlisle and I was back on country lanes. It felt wrong though, I took a right then another right which meant I was heading back the way I had been coming from. The road signs backed this up and on closer inspection the GPX had taken me the long way. As I navigated the lanes my Etrex switched off and on before resetting my location to somewhere in Africa. I tried a reset and but it wasn't having it. I got a bit of signal on my phone, got google maps up and took a mental image of the route. It was enough to get me back to the finish and the end for the day. I sat and rested a while, surely we'd be in for some easier days now? 

Rosley was a good base. Plenty of room and plenty of toast. We hadn't worked out what was happening the next day, all we knew was there would be two walking groups for Scafell. One going over at 12 noon and one at 3pm. I really wanted to get in that first group to maximise my rest on the other side. Then it was announced it would be first come first served. The first 10 runners to reach Borrowdale would go over at midday. 

11 hrs 49 min running for the day. 

Day 5 part 1 Rosley to Borrowdale 25.5 miles

I was up at 12.30, mine being the first alarm to go off. I got straight in the kitchen and had my food before everyone got up. The kitchen was a picture, mess everywhere, spilt drinks, dirty cutlery and bin bag over spilling on to the floor. Our cleanliness skills had certainly gone out the window. 

I was out the door and into the darkness at 1.15am. I felt pretty refreshed even after just 4 hours kip. Knowing the hardest running was behind me was enough to give me a lift today. I was running straight away but also trying to reacquaint myself with the nav on my watch, I'd ditched my Etrex after the malfunction but I just couldn't seem to understand what I was looking at. I was obviously very tired because this basic task was baffling me. I followed a distance headtorch for a while until I had sussed the watch out. The headtorch had been James'. I soon caught him as he was carrying a bit of an ankle issue but him being super competitive he was having none of it and just started running. I really liked James he was funny and good conversation, the miles started ticking by. We were running well when Adrian Martin caught us. I hadn't really known how to take Adrian. We hadn't got to know each other as he'd been running off so fast every day and was miles ahead of everyone. This time though he slowed up and ran with us. Turns out he is a cracking bloke too and we all hit it off. Plenty of banter made for a really enjoyable run. 

The sun was was rising on another beautiful day, as we ran down the lanes the mountains of the Lake District were getting ever closer. Even with the undulating road we were running well, even managing to run a few hills. Coming into Keswick from the north is not a way I know and it was kind of fun trying to pick out the peaks from that angle. It was still very early as we got into Keswick and I knew nothing would be open so we just pushed through. We just had to follow the road down the side of Derwent water and the checkpoint was in Borrowdale at the other end. The views down the waters edge were spectacular. The early morning light made for some amazing pictures. We ran all the way to the institute and arrived around 7am. We had managed to run the marathon distance in just over 5 hours and no one was even there. Within 20 minutes Mark arrived and our names went to the top of the list to go over the mountain. We had till midday to chill out and get some food. 

5 hours 23 minutes for this section

Day 5 part 2 Borrowdale to Langdale 14 miles

At midday we were chaperoned down the lane, it was quite comical as I felt a bit like a school kid being told when to cross the road and when to wait. We were led to the end of the lane to meet our guide, Joe Faulkner. I must admit this was a strange part of the race for me as someone who is pretty experienced in the mountains to be led up and over Scafell Pike. Nothing we could do and we just had to roll with it. It had been a nervy time pre mountain as we had been warned if we looked tired or injured we wouldn't be allowed over. Well here's the shocker, we were all tired and a bit injured. We were literally hiding our ailments just in case. The only positive to that is we knew if we got over this no one could stop us climbing Snowdon. 

The walk up the corridor route is lovely and it was actually a great chance to catch up with Joe. We soon summited and another peak done. As we got over the other side it was hard to keep us all together with everyone itching to push on. A couple of the group were slower over the terrain and eventually we got to the point where the front group could push on and Joe held back to make sure the back runners were ok. 

We headed down Rossett Gyll towards Langdale, time to open the legs a bit. Adrian shot off, I followed and James brought up the rear. We regrouped at the bottom before James shot ahead. I tried to keep with him but I was knackered, time to just jog it in and straight into the pub. 

The hall tonight was roomy and I'd had a decent meal in the pub. With rain forecast and a short day ahead we could even plan a lie in but I knew that wouldn't happen. Once I'm up, I'm up. All in all I felt content and sleep came pretty easy. 

4 hours 41 minutes for the mountain section. 

Day 6 Langdale to Carnforth 34 mile

I woke around 2.30 am with the intention of leaving around 4 in the daylight. I could hear water and quickly realised it was pissing down outside, not only that but the roof of the hall was leaking, flooding the hall. 

James left really early as did a few others. I left with Trish around 3.30. Her ankle was still busted up and it had changed her gait causing her more pain. She was powering on though, absolutely no quit in her! Even being injured I knew she was a dead cert finisher. We went to step outside but the rain stepped it up a gear and was lashing down. I slipped on my £1 poncho and stepped out into it. I find the cheap ponchos are fantastic at keeping you bone dry including all my kit. We walked up the lane and I was just trying to keep my feet dry in the flooded lane. After a mile or so of chatting I was feeling good so decided to act upon it and start running. I said farewell to Trish and jogged on. I was feeling good this morning and was soon banging out a decent pace. I stopped and chatted with everyone I passed. Although I wasn't going to let this good spell pass unused so I was quick to keep on running. 

I arrived in Ambleside around 5 and was devastated to find there was no where to get a coffee. A car pulled up and out jumped John Knapp, a good friend of mine who I'd first met whilst running the Northern Traverse. We walked up the road and had a good chat for 10 minutes until he was well and truly soaked through. This simple act actually made my day, the fact someone got out of bed to see me at 5am kept me smiling and motivated for the next few hours. Next up was Windemere, again no chance for a coffee but it is a lovely place. Beautiful houses and even more beautiful scenery. I was trying to choose which house I'd buy if I was mega rich, each one trumped by the next. As I started leaving the Lakes the sky started to break. 

Adrian caught me and slowed to run with me. We pretty much ran the rest of the day together, all the way to Carnforth and beyond to a pub just short of the checkpoint. It was midday and we were done, we had a meal and slowly the others joined us. Cameron Humpries was there but had sadly been brought by car. His race was over due to some horrendous blisters. He would actually be the last person to drop. 

Mark arrived in the pub and informed us the CP wasn't great. Well for him to say that it must be bad! We headed up there and he wasn't wrong, it was awful. It was actually just a changing room used by the local football teams. We claimed what space we could and mine was a bench just outside the showers. Others were in the corridor but James actually ended up on the toilet floor. I'd been having problems sleeping, luckily the tiredness of each day had been enough to knock me out each night but the hard floors were killing my back and I was regularly waking in a lot of pain. 

It had been a funny day and we could sense Mark being unsettled as we were smashing the days out so quick. Before we started no one thought this race would have more than a couple of finishers, some even said there would be no finishers. So Mark had definitely been expecting us to be down to a handful, not to still have 17 of us! 

8hrs 22minutes running today

Day 7 Carnforth to Preston 29 miles

Today was to be our easy day for sure. Mark made it clear we didn't need to go too early as the CP definitely would not be open until 2pm. It just so happens I had the worst nights sleep yet. Half the night on the bench and half on the floor, my back was in real pain. 

In the build up to this event I'd done a 10 marathons in 10 days event to give me a feel for what the 3 peaks might be like. During it I had bad days on 2, 3 and 7. Well this morning I had woken and just felt terrible. Tired, hurting and moody. I just couldn't get mentally motivated. James had gone early again so Adrian and I swanned around letting time slip by. Around 5.30am we left, but half a mile up the road Adrian realised he had forgotten something and had to go back. I just ran on, I needed to get my head down today I was pretty tired and very grumpy. 

I was mainly following the A6 today, long, straight, busy roads. Most of it was pretty safe although I had to have my wits about me. However just after Lancaster the road split and the path disappeared, this was a really fast bit of dual carriageway. I picked up the pace down the road and ahead was a bridge where the two lanes went to one before going to two again. This was really sketchy and as a gap in the traffic appeared I legged it as fast as I could to get under the bridge and out the other side. I made it before the next wave of traffic came hammering through. This was definitely the most dangerous part of the whole event, worse than any mountain!

Adrian caught me and we soon caught James who was struggling with his foot. We didn't have an aidstation today so dipped into Garstang for some food. We stopped at a sandwich bar and no veggie option. I ended up with a coffee and a can of Coke. The coffee was awful and the Coke was warm. As the others tucked into to their food a little red mist descended over me and I stormed back in the shop, pushed to the front of the queue and demanded a cold can. It was at that moment I realised I was being a grumpy asshole. Those poor girls must have thought who is this dickhead. I'm not good when I'm tired. 

We carried on along the A6 with me just wanting the day to end and before I knew it we were at the pub marking the end of the day. I had a massive all day breakfast and felt a lot happier. The checkpoint was loads better today and almost comfortable with cushioned seats to lay on. 

There was a little uncertainty on how the event would end. The original plan had been a guided walk up and down Snowdon but that wasn't going to work because at some point someone would sprint off to claim the record. Then it was proposed that there would be a race from the foot of Snowdon on the final day at 4am. So the basic idea was to carry on in stages but make sure you were at the foot of Snowdon at 4am on the last day for a 10 mile shoot out. Well I must admit this didn't impress me. I'm ok in the hills but I'm not the fastest and although the record wasn't on my radar it would be nice to have a shot at it. 

I was almost comfy on the cushioned seat and lay back pondering how this would end before dropping off pretty quickly

6 hours 23 minutes running today. 

Day 8 Preston to Runcorn 35 mile  

I felt a bit better this morning, I woke at 3am and even the band that had kicked off about 9pm the previous night hadn't disturbed me too much. I left at 4am and was running straight away. I was running through a lot more built up areas today which provided a bit of a change. It was still main roads but the sun was shining, I'd slept ok and my back felt ok. I was able to run for a good 10 miles before I started to flag. Luckily I was running bits with Adrian and it was good to chat and put the world to rights. The miles were ticking by and we passed through the Rugby towns of St Helens and Widness. I decided to have a walk as I was having a energy dip. I used this time to ring my wife, my brother and my buddy Scott. We had a long chat about nothing in particular  but it really perked me up. Scott thought it was hilarious that I kept taking wrong turns. I was trying to run, navigate and talk. No sooner I hung up on Scott my son rang me. Today was a good day. 

When I finally managed to get off the phone I was back running with Adrian as we crossed the rather magnificent Runcorn bridge and on to our next stop for the night Frodsham. We found a pub and sat in the sun having dinner and drinks. We moved on to our hall for the night, it was small but ok. There had been a lot of chatter between Mark and Lindley and it was obvious they were hatching a plan for the final push. Sure enough when the last runner was in Mark got us together to let us in on it. 

The original plan had been a 35 mile day 9 and a 45 mile final day followed by the guided walk over Snowdon. The checkpoint at the end of day was to be in someone's garden and the sleeping area was to be a couple of tents. Nobody had factored in the chance that there would still be 19 runners left and we would all need to fit into the tents. So the new plan was that the last two days would now become one. A 3am start, an 80 mile day with a single aidstation at the house in Denbeigh. The race was finally on, this was more to my liking as I now stood a chance. 

7 hours running today

Day 9 Frodsham to the Finish in LLanberis 80 miles and 10000ft of climb

Today was different, we were actually going to race and I was up and about at 1.30am. We lined up at the door of the hall at 5 to 3, Karen done a head count to make sure no one had snuck off and at 3am swung the doors open. Considering we'd done so much mileage the front pack shot off pretty fast. Me, James, Adrian, Chin and Andy were that pack. We headed out on some flat uninspiring trails around Ellesmere port. After a few miles I realized I couldn't carry on like this or I'd blow up for sure. Andy and Chin carried on while James, Adrian and I eased back slightly and as soon as we hit the main road I stopped at the first garage I saw to grab a Red Bull and that split us up. I could see Chin in the distance running down the middle white line of the 60mph road, there were cars on the road and I was unsure on his thought process but it looked pretty dangerous. 

We were treated to some beautiful views off the bridge at Shotten just as the sun was rising but beyond that it all got very samey again. Just long straight undulating back lanes. I checked the tracker and saw the other three were quite a way ahead. Adrian and I passed the marathon distance in around 4 hrs 30 but he really wasn't feeling it today so I started to push on. I soon pulled away but for the first time a couple of niggles reared their ugly heads. A blister by the ball of my foot and some mad ankle pain right at the front. I had to take some some pain relief, energy wise I was good, good enough to run anyway. After a few more miles I eventually caught Andy 5 miles short of Denbeigh. We chatted briefly before I moved on, hoping to catch the other two. I ran solid all the way to the aidstaion. 

The aidstation was actually Vic Owens house and as I arrived Chin was just leaving and James was gone. I didn't hang around. There was an amazing spread she had laid on but I just had Coke and a donut, I loaded my mountain kit, filled with water and left. As I left Andy arrived. I could now make out the mountains of Snowdonia and they seemed so close, I kind of forgot it was still 35 miles to Llanberis and kept kidding myself I was nearly there. The lanes had now become really hilly, big ascents followed by big descents. This was killing my ankle and the pain was absolutely searing, the downs were so painful. I checked the tracker and James had made about 6 miles on me. This would be unsurmountable unless he had a disaster. Chin was about 4 miles and Adrian 2 miles back. I was still going to run hard in case the two ahead blew up but I was running out of water fast and I hadn't seen anything since Denbeigh. Eventually I came across a tiny village shop and even they had no water, I had to make do with Coke and energy drink. That didn't help my thirst for long and I soon had to message Karen to find out where I could get some water. A message came back that Byron would be at the next village with water. I was 50 mile in now and roughly 9hrs 15 for the day. Llanwst was more of a town but I disregarded all the shops hoping I could pick up some time, I raided Byrons motor of food and water and carried on. 

I had finally reached the foothills around Snowdonia and took the chance to walk for a while up through the beautiful Gwydyr forest. The climb actually went on for ages before reaching a small pass and a long descent which I ran hard for well over a mile. It made my ankle scream with pain, how could some much pain come on in such a short space of time! To quote a MMA phrase it was time to bite down on my mouth piece and just run. I got on the A5 and I knew where I was, bloody miles from Llanberis! Moel Siabod was towering high up to my left shrouded in cloud and as I made the turn toward Llanberis the wind just hit me. It was hammering along the valley floor. It's almost straight along to Pen y Pass and straight from there to Llanberis so there would be no escaping the wind. I couldn't see anyone ahead or anyone behind which was a good job because running was near impossible in the wind. Snowdon summit looked very angry and I could only imagine the wind up there. After what seemed like ages I reached Pen y Pass. Again as soon as I was over the pass I was flat out down the other side. My memory told me I wasn't far but I can tell you it's a long hill. In the end the pain in my ankle was so severe I had to walk the last mile into town. I had totally run out of water again so had to pass the start of the tourist path and run to the finish to fill up. 

I was definitely going to be third now as the other two were so far ahead. I jogged to the start of the climb and started the hike up. About half a mile up I saw James coming down, I congratulated him on a race well run.  I saw Chin about half way up and again congratulated him. I could see the summit was raging so stopped to put my coat on and my buff round my head. It really was blowing a hooley at the top so I quickly summited, grabbed a pic and headed back down. I jogged back down and bumped into Adrian. We greeted each other but I couldn't believe how close he was so from that point I sprinted down the mountain like it was a fell race. I saw Andy, Ricardo and Robert on the way down and we all congratulated each other. Finally I was at the bottom and touched the station wall. It was over, my 3 peaks had taken 8 days 14 hours 35 minutes and unofficially the 3rd fastest time ever. Also 16 hours for the 80 mile day. I just sat down with my medal and a stupid grin, what a cool adventure and a life goal ticked off. 

I loved the adventure and this is what it was for me. Just a fun adventure with some great individuals. It was tough in parts but not overly hard. James did fantastic but he would be the first to admit its a pretty soft record and easy pickings for the right person. We did have a lot of rest after all! I also think if Mark put it on again it would be a whole lot harder. 

Massive congrats to all the other finishers and everyone who toed the line especially James and Trish the male and female FKT holders. Also thanks to Karen, Byron, Pete and Carl who gave up their spare time to help us achieve this. Biggest hats off goes to Mark, without him putting on this sort stuff ultra running would definitely be worse off.  

Ultra Trail Snowdonia 165

 As UTMB drew closer the uncertainty was doing my head in. Would we be able to travel? Will the race be able to enter other countries? Will it even go ahead? Will it get cancelled and I lose my hard earnt place for ever. A pandemic makes racing tricky, it makes travelling to a race even trickier. As soon as UTMB stepped up and offered deferrals to 2022 I was on it. Deferred. That left a gaping hole in my race calendar. Ultra Trail Snowdonia sat just 2 weeks after UTMB, It is an Ultra Trail World Tour Event and in one of my favourite places. Since my Bob I've been considering a Paddy round but was still yet to recce as my three previous attempts to recce had been scuppered by the weather. So what better opportunity, enter the UTS165, get to experience some of the Paddy terrain and take part in a badass race. I was in. 

As we crossed the A5 from the campsite towards the start my mind wandered, thinking about how I'd been told by a couple of friends how hard the 50 mile race had been a few years previous. Both had expressed to me what a complete hellish experience it had been. I mean how hard could it be? I've done hard races, what would make this different? I was about to find out. It had rained solid for 5 or so hours prior to the 11am start, luckily it had stopped for now and with little fuss or excitement we were given the GO and sent on our way. 


The start is right at the base of Moel Siabod and after a couple of hundred metres of jogging we were hiking. It was a steady up and I chatted briefly with Drew Sheffield (a previous winner of the race) and Mark Collinson who I bump into at all the major UK events. Both previous finishers and both gave me glimpses of what lay ahead. After an hour of steady climbing we summited but instead of following the natural path we veered off and started a long and knarly descent. We skipped over rocks, slid on our arses and tried desperately not to fall over. The pace was hard, hard for a first descent, the views were stunning. I stopped to take a couple of pics. This was fun. After the first steep section things levelled out slightly and we entered some forest and followed an undulating path at last feeling like I could run a bit. I looked at my watch and we were just 5 miles in which had taken about 2 hours. I won't lie I was feeling it. We rolled into cp1 for a well earned drink. I needed my coke fix. 

Leaving the Cp I joined the road which led into a forest track it was steady up hill and I hiked the next mile or so until the track went straight up into the thick woods. The area beyond had been heavily forested and there was mud a plenty. It climbed steeply to the top before the steady run down through the amazing derelict quarries. The humidity was very high so far, I was really sweating one out. My water was running out fast and I was feeling uncomfortable. We soon reached Ffestiniog and civilisation. Dan Milton was there and it was good to chat and rest for a bit. I had been on the go for about 3 and half hours and a half marathon in. Dan said "see you at 100k", it actually felt a million miles away. 

I was still so hot, my internal thermostat was stuck on full and I couldn't get cool. I walked
with my coke and half a cheese sandwich just to try and regulate myself. I was carrying a lot of calories for this race. I'd figured I'd potentially be out for 40 hours max so I carried 20 items of 100 calories for the first 50 miles then I'd pick up another 20 at half way to get me through. I had a main stay of gels but also had a few bars, my plan was to have 100 cals every hour then top up with a further 200 or so every checkpoint. 

I spent much of the next section leap frogging with other runners, a long steady climb over grassy non descript terrain, lots of bog, tussocks and disused quarrying sites. We reached a point and the guy I was alongside said we had about a mile descent that was really runnable. I just opened up and sprinted down just to keep my legs turning over properly.  I grabbed some coke at the next cp and moved on up the very tough climb of Cnicht. It went on for ages and was incredibly misty at the top. We were now about 19 miles in and I was pretty tired. 5 hours had passed. Now Cnicht was done I thought that I'd actually be able to do some running. How wrong could I have been. I soon found myself alone for the first time. I followed the gps track closely. The group I had walked behind up the mountain had surged ahead. I desperately tried to get my heart rate down before trotting on. The next few miles were ridiculous. Every step was into a potential bog. Massive holes in the bog were scattered everywhere where previous runners had pulled themselves out. I was so careful knowing I could get swallowed up by the muddy mess at anytime. I reached a sharp left turn on the grassy trail. Easily missed as the markings were a bit far apart. I took the turn but the group from earlier had not and soon came running up behind me again. As we started to descend runners were appearing from all sides. All had obviously missed the turn in the mist. It was a slog even on the down basically just bog hopping. After about 2 hours of hard bog running and just 10k covered I reached a road. I was in shock, that section had blown my mind. I passed a guy on the road as I trotted along he had obviously gone into the bog upto his chest and looked really pissed off. I reached CP4 and started to refill my long depleted bottles. I needed water badly. The bog guy from the road promptly stripped his pack off and declared he was out. I couldn't blame him. A marathon covered in 7 hours. The aidstation was in the middle of nowhere like most of the others. Being that there was no death bus or phone signal for that matter it was just best to carry on because there was no way out. The race guide had given a phone number for a random taxi firm if you dropped. Not sure how that would have worked out? 

I worked through the race in my head. 7 hours for the first quarter then maybe 8, 9 and 10 for the subsequent 3 quarters would have me back under 40 hours, eating pot noodles and drinking tea. Easy. I was having a second wind as I marched up the stepping stones towards Pen-y-pass. A left turn and a nice jog along the sedate miners track. The miners track turns right but of course we turned left up the massive rocky climb. The light was fading when started on the ridge of  Y Lliwedd. It's high, rocky and exposed. The mist had dropped, the rock was wet and it was maximum concentration. There were other runners up there and for the first time I was feeling a chill. I had seen Mike and Alice Sheldon earlier in the race, they were looking incredibly strong and had shot off early, I caught up with them on the ridge and we crossed the ridge together. Eventually I had to stop, layer up and dig out my head torch. As I scrambled across to the end of the ridge I was supposed to pick up the Watkin path and to my left Mike and Alice were climbing down what seemed the wrong route. I carried on forward following the random markers in the thick mist, drizzle and darkness. Eventually I found the path but none of the previous 50 mtrs of rock climbing had felt right or easy. The others that had climbed down were long gone but I was now on a definite path which after a mile or so got very runnable and by the bottom I was running full pelt and relieved to be able to open up a bit again. I ran all the way in the darkness to CP5. 

Walking along the road with my now standard plain cheese sandwich and third cup of coke I contemplated what might be ahead. I felt like I had run a hard race already yet we were only 35 miles in. What more could this race throw at us. I had a really bad back ache at this point which was coming from a long standing work injury that I've hoped and prayed I can keep away from my running. Only time will tell on this. The next 10k was fairly easy, maybe only a 1000ft of climb but some quite runnable bits and a nice trail along a river. This took us to Cp 6 at Beddgelert. From memory Beddgelert cp was inside. I wandered about filled with water, drunk coke and just headed off. Not a proper stop at all. As I left an aidstation member said "quick stop, impressive" as I wandered off I couldn't fathom what they had meant. 

It was a steady incline out of the CP and before long there was a sign for Moel Hebog.
The climb up Hebog killed me. It was steep and went on forever. As I reached the top the weather was shocking. Steady rain, mist and a cold breeze. I was tired too. Visability was shit and it was about 2am. Chin up though. The route went up and down two further peaks. The wet rock was really pissing me off now. This had really got hard. I dropped down again to find a couple of marshals in the middle of nowhere. I think they had been placed to provide emergency water although I didn't recall any water being there. I climbed back up a slope again only to join a really dodgy rocky ridge line. I was tired and and a tad confused. I followed the markings but the route was so unclear I couldn't believe this was the way. A couple of guys had joined me but we were having communication issues due to all of us having different first languages. We reached a point and could actually see no way through. We climbed across massive wet rocks all of us falling several times. This was getting silly. I was aware in the mist we were very high, very exposed and there was large drops either side. A massive boulder blocked our way and to the side of it was a flat slab maybe a metre by a metre. Tadeusz got on it first and slid off the other side, then Chean did the same. Before I knew it and against my better judgment I was on the slab. It then occurred to me it was a sheer drop directly to my side, I was on a slippy slab with a drop off one side. What the hell was I doing? Why wasn't this bit marked? Where were the guides to get us beyond this point? The guys sensed we had put ourselves at risk and help me forward. I must say I was pretty pissed off at this point. 3am in the rain and mist, not a clue where we are going and in potential danger. I couldn't help thinking about the poor guy who had lost his life at the TDS not three weeks before. We threaded our way through the rest of the rocks before reaching some solid ground. Just before the summit of Y Garn we turned off and descended on a normal ish path. We eventually reached the halfway point around 5am. I was determined to pull out, I'd had enough. On reaching the Cp I grabbed my drop bag and went and sat inside. I needed a rest and to get my head together. 

I sat and emptied my drop bag across the floor. I'd had my waterproof socks on for 50 miles and 16 hours by now so they needed to come off. My feet were wet but having waterproof socks on seems to help keep my chronic foot maceration at bay. I immediately wrapped my feet in a towel, ate my pasty and drank a massive can of Monster. Was I actually going to drop I asked myself?. No. Middle of nowhere, no cabs, already been out for 16 hours and although still bitching in my head about the Nantlle ridge I needed to finish this. I sat there and something clicked in my head. If I continued from this aidstation I would finish because there was no way I was ever coming back. I powdered my feet,  got changed, restocked my pack, packed my dropbag, grabbed a sarnie and wandered off up the trail. 

From Rhyd ddu I got straight on the Rhyd ddu path which leads to the summit of Snowdon. Its a long hike that I managed to power up passing a few people but mainly I was alone. By the summit I was in the mist again but daylight had broken and I had a new found determination. The summit was busy already to my disbelief. Yes it was Saturday but please. Dark, misty and queuing for the summit. I descended on the Ranger path for a while before veering off to the next CP. From what we had experienced so far this climb and descent of Snowdon had been rather sedate. The checkpoint staff informed us that some signage had been messed with so to be careful. 55 miles in and I'd had enough of hills, I looked ahead and saw a massive hill but thought surely we must skirt around this one. I managed to get my self a little lost in the small forest, for some reason I just ignored the signage and did my own thing. I popped out the other side of the woodland not too far off track but I did have to climb a barbed wire fence, not great when your legs are like jelly. As I re-joined the path I could see ahead the orange markers disappearing up the mountain I had just seen and into the mist. It was a hard, grassy climb. At the summit I could just see another mountain. Up again! The descents now were killing my big toes. The nail was pushing hard into the end of the shoe, the steeper the descent the more it hurt. I had a quick system check and my back hurt, knees were sore, calves sore, toes killing me, maceration pain coming on and shoulder pain from using the poles. Ok I was a wreck but my quads were holding up and my energy levels were not too bad. CP 9 was 100k where I saw Dan again. We had a good chat as I ate another cheese sandwich and lots of coke. It was quite a lift to see a friend and I left happy enough. Just 40mile to go now and probably near or around the 24 hr mark. I knew the next 40 would take a while but the first night was behind me and there was no way I was stopping now. 

I hiked up through the village of Waunfawr, it was nice to see some human life. Much of this race is in the middle of nowhere so it felt comforting to be around people. The hike up the road lead to a track before a turn right and another slog up. This time Moel Eillio, Foel Gron and Foel Goch. You get the picture. Leave checkpoint, climb massive mountain, descend to Checkpoint and repeat. On this descent I could recognise we were heading back down towards LLanberis. This chirped me up a bit knowing the climb back up Snowdon wouldn't be too bad. Around this time I met Richard Thompson for the first time, we passed each other a few times, exchanged a few words but were both pretty focused on our own race. 

I left the LLanberis Checkpoint very quickly leaving Richard behind. I soon joined the LLanberis path aka Snowdon High St. It was busy! I have honestly never seen so many people walking off a mountain. At points the path is about 3 metres wide and I couldn't pick a route through. I had my sticks out for the long slow walk up. It was nicely broken up chatting with the walkers coming back down. I was extremely tired and occasionally getting flicking eyelids but in the grand scheme of things this was easy going. Richard passed me a marched ahead. I was going well and didn't feel the need to chase him. After what seemed like an age I was near the top and back in the mist. The mist and masses of people were disorientating me. I couldn't work out in my head where the start of the Pyg track back down was. I have been up there at least 50 times but I felt completely lost. I found a marshal and just stood staring at his face. He looked and said "you ok mate". I'm not sure I even answered such was my mental state. This race was taking everything from me. It was obvious this was the turn and I started heading down. The amount of people was doing my head in, I couldn't get past. Luckily a few 100k runners came behind a were waiting for no-one. They literally barged through. I jumped in behind them and followed through until the hoards dispersed a bit. The Pyg track is a fairly simple descent but my legs were like stilts and the wet rock was still quite hazardous. Not only was this race physically demanding but the mental demands are massive. The concentration it takes coming down rocky terrain is high. I was catching Richard slowly. We reached the carpark after an age. Straight into the Cp. 77 miles done and roughly 3 quarters done. It must have been about 3pm so I'd been on the go for 28hrs. A few rough calculations and I was fairly sure I was going to spend another full night out. What could I do? Just crack on. Only a marathon to go. 

This next section was going to be tough. Lots of hard rocky terrain. Straight up to the summit of Glydr Fawr. I left the cp and soon started losing the markers. They were sporadic and didn't match the GPX file at all. I could see high up on the hill side a few runners so just picked a line through and steadily worked my way up. Tadeusz who I'd crossed the Nantlle ridge with joined me again. He was really struggling with the markers and couldn't see anyone on the hillside. I told him to follow me, he wasn't sure but did. It was fairly hard going but we joined the really steep bit where I'd seen people earlier and the markers re appeared. I climbed the steep hill side pressing on into the mist toward the summit. I met with Mike and Alice Sheldon again and Richard had joined us too. Alice was struggling on the climbs and I was slow on the descents. So we were all roughly the same speed. The rocky landscape was doing my head in and I was hallucinating, seeing lots of faces on rocks. We were scrambling, climbing, shuffling and stumbling all the way to Y Garn. Richard and I crept ahead again. Light was fading and the descent was steep and super technical. It just went on forever. Maximum concentration and maximum pain in my feet. Maceration was taking hold, as were blisters, pain in my big toes and just soreness from being on my feet. Mike and Alice overtook us and got quite a way ahead. We were heading down to the Ogwen valley, great I thought just run across the lakeside to the checkpoint. No chance! We had to climb back up the side of Tryfan round the back and back down to the checkpoint. This was some knarly shit. Actual rock climbs, dodgy marking and the fact I had zero idea what was even going on. Night time had come and torches were on. We had caught Mike and Alice once again. There are times in distance running when you just need to tuck in behind someone and shadow them and concentrate on moving forward. This was mine. I didn't know where we were, what we were doing or why. Every so often I kept twigging we were in a race but most of the time I believed we were on a recce or my usual odd thoughts of walking to work. This with heavy hallucinations was hard work. The four of us were in the same boat though and between we had all the attributes to stay on course and keep moving forward. Reaching CP12 was a massive relief. I was in shock. Everything was hurting. Mike said look why don't we stick together now, we are all tired and it will be safer and quicker to work as a foursome. We all agreed. I completely lost my bearings at this point and argued we were heading in the wrong direction but it is always hard getting your bearings leaving an aidstation. I can look back at the map now and its all so obvious. 

There were no markings leading up Pen-Yr-Ole Wen and we relied on my Etrex. Nothing seemed right but my head was a little straighter so I was able to pick a path through. It was a hard climb and it was clear I was moving very well on the ups but no point steaming off as we had agreed to work together so every so often I'd wait for the others. From the top we were to spend the next few miles very high up in the Carnedds. Scrambling over rocks with a few real rock climbing sections. It seemed surreal, like it was happening and not all at the same time. Mike started rambling about not knowing what was going on. I chuckled, I knew that feeling. We went on and on through the abyss of rock and mist. We changed direction off of Carnedd Llewelyn and the rocks started to disperse slightly. Mind you the lichen covered rocks made for some mental hallucinations. I was seeing people, animals, vans, cars as vivid as real life. We reached Pen yr Helgi Du and It was an actual climb. It was a little tricky especially with 90 miles in your legs. We climbed straight up the rock face which I must admit I kind of enjoyed. By this time we had amassed a few of us as some of the 100k runners had tagged on. We must have looked like we knew where we were going! Over the climb it changed to grass and was the beginning of a massive descent. I was trashed now but Mike insisted we should run. It was either that or a death march so we trotted down the grassy descent. We were actually in the middle of no where. Every so often I would switch my light off. No light not even light pollution, no sound. So quiet it makes your ears hurt as they strain to pick up any sound. A very strange feeling. I could see a little light in the distance that never got closer but eventually after a very long time I worked out this was the final aid station we jogged down the hill and into the Checkpoint. My feet were now shot, the pain was unbearable. So much so I took some paracetamol just to take the edge off. No use removing my shoes as there was nothing I could do. It was about 3 am with about 6 miles to go. My internal thermostat was now completely knackered, I was still sweating although there was a chill. It was a horrible feeling. I just wanted it to end now. 


The last leg was under way and no major climbs on this one. Immediately after leaving the checkpoint I started coughing. I had a tickly throat and it made me gag to cough. The urge to cough was too strong and I started again promptly followed by the contents of my stomach. All of it!. Running was near impossible now. I was tired and hurting. Alice was in pain too. Richard could walk at the same speed as my run and Mike was pushing us all forward. We joined a lakeside path but it was hard going as it was so rough. Power hiking was the best option. Daylight hit us at this point and I was able to remove my headtorch. My main concern now turned to the sleep demons. I could not keep my eyes open and was having micro sleeps every few seconds. I kept wandering into bushes and stumbling off the path. I really hate that as I had no control. We left the lake and entered the forest. This was heavy mud and one point Alice lost her whole leg into a bog. I tried to help her but was just making things worse so let her scramble out herself. As we left the forest I thought we were done and said that's it we must be here. I was soon put in my place by the others who knew we still had a 3 mile walk over more hills until we eventually reached the A5 again. We agreed to cross the line together and it was a great feeling running along the road at a walking pace knowing it was over. As we approached the line they held a finish line tape up. Alice was going to win the ladies race so we pushed her forward to take the tape a few seconds before we flopped over the line. 

I was in shock. The race had brutalised me. Everything hurt and my brain was not working. The relief was massive. I'm so glad I done it as I never want to attempt it again. It was 45 hours 9 minutes and 57 seconds of hard slog. That is easily the hardest 100 mile race I have taken part in. Time is irrelevant, its simply did you finish or not. I think if it had been dry before and during the race it would certainly be a lot easier but as it was it was as described. Savage beyond reason. 

Go on put an entry in I dare you!  

This was going to be my unofficial Paddy taster. I'd guess this is much harder than a Paddy and I won't be attempting any Paddy attempt or recce in anything but dry, sunny conditions. So I won't say I won't have a go but I'm a little less inclined. 

Just one final thing. When I researched this race I was constantly trying to gain a comparison to UTMB. Which is harder? Without a doubt UTS is harder than UTMB.