Learning that anything is within your grasp on Day 4 of Dragon’s Back Race with RAW Adventures
A week before I ran in the Elan Valley with a bunch of fellow Dragons in Training, I’d managed to convince myself that perhaps this was all a bit above my station. I’m not a professional fell runner, in fact the joke about me coming from the Somerset Levels now seemed deadly serious. How the hell would I match up to these people who spend their days in the mountains, whose back garden is the Welsh hills, who actually RACE these things?
As a back-of-packer, with a backpack the size of a small country, it was easy to get in my own head and start to wonder what I was doing here. Casing out the competition in Ty Morgan’s cafe in the centre of Rhayader on the Saturday, I was reassured by the swift onslaught of friendly banter, a free buff courtesy of the incredible Kate of RAW Adventures (more on her later), and the advice to buy a coffee and relax while we figured out transport to the start the day’s adventure.
The purpose of my three-and-a-bit hour drive to a small Welsh town? To test out a section of Day 4 of the Montane Dragon’s Back Race. Already this seemed overly optimistic. What if I don’t even make it to Day 4?
We began our huddle about six miles south of the start of of the day’s route. Taking out our previous year’s maps from the race, I looked around at the five other participants. A few clearly knew their stuff when it came to map-reading and navigation skills, but I was comforted to see a few confused looks, upside down maps and waving of agitated compasses. We were all here to learn.
The description from the map reads; “remote and rarely visited hills and forests are the hallmark of this day, as are the famous grass tussocks of the Elan Valley hills. The route goes to one of the highest summits in Mid Wales – Drygarn Fawr – on the remote moorland plateau of the Cambrian Mountains. Keep each other in good company on this day, as you are unlikely to see anyone else!”
This section of the DBR is a kind of squishy, mossy, spongey, marshland, without the spiky sharp bits that you expect from days 1 and 2 of the race. One of my comrades described it nicely as “The Bermuda Triangle of the race”.
He wasn’t far off. As we set off over tussocks and divots, aiming for the first checkpoint known as ‘Fence Corner’ (yes, the clue is in the name), the landscape became nondescript, the mist fell, it felt bleak. I imagined being lost out here, frantic, alone. But bit by bit, guided by Kate and thanks to the generous knowledge-sharing of my teammates, things began to make sense.
Look for that triangle, that might be a trig point. Check out the next physical landmark, don’t rely on the permissible path markings. Check the ground for trods.
I knew that I wouldn’t be the strongest runner. Some of the others were like mountain goats, striding with purpose and generally ahead of the pack. But we regrouped often, and we rotated. Some points I wasn’t even at the back! I was trialling new poles, and new shoes, so there was a lot for me to take on board. I fell once, due to a pole user malfunction, and as my banana went flying ahead of me, a teammate stopped to check on my wellbeing. Thankful for the wet bog I’d landed on (fondly renamed the Bog of Eternal Stench), I arose victorious and unscathed.
Over 14 miles we laughed, listened, learnt, and got to grips with both the enormity of what lies ahead of us, but also of the ultimate possibility.
We’re all so good at doubting ourselves. I was doing it before I even set out, but hearing these other fabulous athletes voicing their own anxieties about the race I realised that we all just pick different bits to agonise over. One told me she’s never done a multi-day event like this one, but had still managed to knock out a 50-hour race; another was concerned on the downhills because of dodgy knees; we all worried we’d get lost, miss a cut-off time, lose a checkpoint.
All these worries are human nature. I had the absolute luxury of running a stretch of road with Kate, our esteemed leader for the event. We talked about strategies and goals, and that by knowing now I need to work on my hill-running legs, then I already have a measurable goal. She said she doesn’t go out and do more than 13 miles at a time just yet; that everyone comes from a different place and that we all have to work on different elements. Some are physical, some are mental. We’re still seven months out and there’s time.
One thing Kate said really stuck. When we finished, beaming from ear to ear because it had genuinely been the most fun and enjoyable day, she said: “not one of you seemed out of your depth.”
It’s what I needed to hear. I was part of this too.
Aren’t we brilliant at limiting ourselves. I think everyday life pushes us back into those boxes that tell us that’s as much as we can do, that a mountain is too high, a run too long, that our bodies can’t take it. Unlearning that takes time and practice.
The next day, I got up early, grabbed the map and continued the journey by myself. Twelve more glorious miles, in the crisp mountain air.
- Inspired to run the Dragon’s Back Race? Enter here
- Want to meet Kate and know you can do anything? Check out RAW Adventures
Vegan Fitness Runner 