Tag: dragon's back race

A Hatchling is born

briggsy1981

Trying to encapsulate last week’s experience on the Dragon’s Back Race is like trying to bottle lighting, but then I like trying hard things so I’ll give it a go!

Ascending Llanidloes. Photo by No Limits Photography

I’ve been waking up at strange hours – around 4am – which would have been when my alarm went off on camp; ready to grease my feet, check for blisters, deflate my sleeping mat and repack my camp bag, have my breakfast of hash browns, beans and vegan sausages, grab a banana, get my kit checked and make my way to the day’s start line.

Of course I don’t have to do that now, yet it feels like I’m grieving its absence. Not just the strange routine, but the people too.

The day before we got the bus up to Conwy and the start of the race, the weather had been pretty standard for the UK – end of summer, schools due to go back. It was turning autumnal, nights drawing in and the prospect of a perfect, temperate climate upon the mountain tops of Wales.

But much like what happened to me in 2022 for my Macmillan Way run, on the Monday a heatwave struck.

This impacted me, the other runners, and the event organisers, in ways that we hadn’t anticipated.

It meant that on day one, despite running well out of Conwy Castle and up to Tal Y Fan, as the sun came up and started beating down relentlessly by the time I reached Pen yr Ole Wen I was moving much slower. I could see the half way check point below me at Ogwen Support Point, but the time was slipping away.

I had options. I could bust a gut and still reach the cut off if I really ran like the wind. But if I did that I’d still have to face the climb of Tryfan and the Snowdon Horseshoe, most likely not make the next cut off, and inevitably ruin myself and scupper my chances of hanging in for the full six days. The other option was to take on the half route, which this year for the first time has been renamed “The Hatchling Course”.

To put it in context, the full Montane Dragon’s Back Race covers 380km (236 miles), and 17,400 metres of height gain (57,087ft). As a Hatchling, you can choose to either run the first or second half of the day – so still getting in some serious mileage and vert by the time you finish in Cardiff.

For many runners, day one saw them off. The heat was brutal and stripped them of all reserves. To drop down to the Hatchling was, for some, never an option. They were here to become fully fledged dragons. That was their only goal.

But plenty, like me, took stock and reassessed. We still had another five days to get to Cardiff, maybe even in a more enjoyable way now that we were running half the distance.

In fact what happened next was unprecedented – where in previous years those who’d attempted the dragon and failed early on would go straight home, this year saw 134 Hatchlings complete the event, and 87 complete the full Dragon’s Back.

Although 45% of the 298 didn’t make it to Cardiff this year, thanks to the option of the Hatchling, 195 of the 298 starters did make it.

As I sat at the day one halfway checkpoint at Ogwen, I recruited my first fellow Hatchling Alison. She was ready to quit. She told me she wanted to just sit on the mountain and not move until someone had come and got her. I asked her if she’d keep me company for the rest of the week, no pressure, and we’d try and make it to Cardiff together.

That promise proved to be the best move I’d make.

Later that day I learnt that two of my other friends (people become friends very quickly in situations like this) had also come back to the halfway checkpoint having been beaten by the steep climb on Tryfan. Clarice and Ben became the next two in our team of five.

Graham came next, on day two. He’d timed out on day one, but was going hell for leather again and we met him on a steep ascent early on in the day. He didn’t look his usual self and the five of us sat and took a moment together on Cnicht.

Revived, we continued on together as, what one described as “a strange version of the Fellowship of the Ring”, the photographer even capturing what would then go on to be our “poster shot”.

Throughout the next few days we’d continue to wake ridiculously early, check in and meet as a group ready for the start line, and if not run together, know that we’d be looking out for each other. There were times when we cried with laughter – bum sliding down hills, or making jokes that are only funny when you’re totally sleep deprived and exhausted. There were times when we gritted our teeth, finding something, somewhere that would pull us through the tough bits. Alison had a knee injury, so did Ben – which later transpired to be a torn meniscus; my shoulder kept cramping from the weight of the pack and constant use of poles, and Graham and Clarice, like all of us were just downright knackered.

At the end of our running shift we’d have to make sure our camp admin was bang on. Eat, wash in a cold river, get kit ready for the following day, charge devices, check our Dragon Mail from keen supporters, sleep. I had a wonderful bunch of tent mates too – I was in a tent of international super talents. The runners I shared with were absolutely phenomenal; the likes of Sanna Duthie, Silvia Trigueros Garrote, Caru Coetzee, Margarida Bagão, and Catharina Rennie. Feeling comfortable in your tent makes for a smoother experience, I can tell you.

We battled through the searingly hot days, carrying more water than we’d anticipated to (training runs were not geared to hot weather), and we continued, one foot in front of the other over mountain ranges including Cadair Idris and Bannau Brycheiniog (The Brecon Beacons), where shade evaded us and our only relief from the heat was to dip our clothing in the rivers.

A special mention has to go to the crew on this epic race. From the water stops and half way checkpoints to the catering staff, friendly faces at the finish line, those who put up the tents and ferried runners from place to place, and everyone in between. This race is a logistical puzzle and race director Shane Ohly (he’s over on my podcast!) worked through insane conditions to make everything come together. A display of epic teamwork both behind the scenes and in the foreground.

Crossing the finish line at Cardiff Castle (all five of us made it) was a surreal and emotional experience. To become a Hatchling had become something more than I’d anticipated. No longer did I see myself as a failed dragon; instead I’d worked through a whole host of emotions and doubts to come through to the end as something better.

The Dragon’s Back Race is not just a run. For me, certainly it was a life experience that I’ll never forget, and from which I now have friends who, sadly for them, may never see the back of me.

  • I can’t write this blog post without special mention AGAIN to RAW Adventures and their recces throughout the year, without whom, I can hand on heart say I would not have managed to complete the race to Cardiff. Their support has been invaluable and I would recommend anyone with an interest in mountains, running and adventure to get in touch with them
  • Next I have to tell you that entries are now open for Ourea Events Dragon’s Back race 2024. Whether you choose to take on the full dragon or the Hatchling I can tell you with certainty that you will not regret it.

Pre-race panic sets in

briggsy1981

It’s normal to be nervous before any race, but the sleeplessness and constant churning in my stomach these past few days is a direct correlation to the looming Dragon’s Back Race, for which I now have my official number.

Recce in the hills

It’s a good number. 36. It sounds rounded and wholesome, and I’m happy about that.

I’m also happy about how I feel generally. I’ve made it this far – I’m fit and healthy and I’ve almost nailed the packing.

But however much training and preparing you do, physically and mentally, the pre-race nerves can be a shocker.

Everything I know, I suddenly think I don’t know. My mind is telling me that during this tapering period I may actually forget how to run entirely.

I’ve looked down the list of entrants. There are strong runners in the field. There are people travelling from across the world, there are those who’ve competed in this race before. And there’s me.

I can’t control the nerves, so I’m focusing on what I can control.

There’s method here somewhere

I’m being methodical about packing, revisiting the GPX files and the digital map to feel more confident about following it over the week. Organising my camp bag for minimal time wastage, and most importantly ensuring that I have suitable food for the week (yes, that includes peanut butter and jam).

What is both wonderful and terrifying is that I have people rooting for me. If nobody knew, I could sneak up to the mountains without any pressure, but they do, and they are.

One thing I’ll promise you. I will leave absolute everything out there on those Welsh hills. I will give it my all. I will bust my metaphorical gut. I will do this for everyone that has put their faith in me.

I can’t promise anything beyond that.

So, number 36. Let’s make it a good one. And thank you for everyone for believing that I should even be on the start line. It’s humbling and overwhelming all at once.

So until then, friends, this is it. September 4th. Let’s go get that dragon.

Crib Goch conquered

briggsy1981

It started with a nightmare. The evening before Operation Crib Goch (OCG), my tired quads were already twitching, but the nightmare was intense. Apparently I was mumbling and screaming in my sleep. Perhaps I’d built this up in my head far more than I realised.

For someone who will take on most things, Crib Goch had manifested into some kind of death-monster in my brain.

Naturally, on the morning of OCG – it was hard not to be excited. The sun was shining fiercely; I’d tackled Tryfan and the Glyders on the previous day to bolster my confidence, and it felt like that monster I’d conjured up might be quietening.

Friendly faces gathered at the Nant Paris Park and Ride, the Place To Be for mountain junkies, Duke of Edinburgh participants, Scouts, people carrying poles, ropes, and wearing grippy shoes.

Four Mountain Leaders for this RAW Adventures expedition – these people are like superheroes – human form, but with mountain goat/ballet dancer/fell runner qualities. You can feel safe with them.

And so, we began. From Pen Y Pass, toward the looming beast. We were taught the mantra “Crest is Best”, and our guides pointed out the line we needed to take.

There’s a school of thought that suggests if you don’t overthink it, don’t look down, don’t hang around too long, that it’ll be over before you know it. Well anyway, that was my school of thought. I like big rocks. There are hand holds, and I feel safe holding on. I have the strength to haul myself up, and I’d rather face big rocks than the dusty scree you can easily slip on – there was plenty of that later.

Up we went. Helen, one of the superheroes, reminded us to keep our nose, hips and feet in line. “Make sure you can see your feet” – that way we’d be more stable. The urge to hug the rock was great – but this was not the suggested approach.

Approaching the infamous ridge to Crib Goch, the Red Ridge, John, another of the superheroes looked at me, “Laura, try and remember to breathe.” Oh, what sage advice! Things are much easier if you continue to breathe, and I’d genuinely forgotten to do so.

Now I was breathing again, watching my feet, finding my hand holds and getting my groove. The ridge suddenly felt very do-able. Remember we had glorious sunshine. There was little wind, and if I did it again in higher winds, then yes – I’d be more nervous.

Ten minutes to traverse the ridge.

That was all.

Ten minutes. Ten intense, brain aching, gripping on for dear life minutes, but still – only ten minutes.

Next, more technical terrain. On to Snowdon, to complete the horseshoe. We got the poles out. Turns out I need to get a damn sight quicker going downhill (and there was I thinking I liked down!)

It’s fear, trepidation. It holds you back, tells you you’ll turn an ankle, fall, die. But when you can breathe, and gain some balance, tell yourself to just go with the mountain, you can move quicker. This is what I need to work on.

OCG wasn’t to be taken lightly. I’d never take it lightly. You need to plan, check the weather, have a good level of fitness and know what you’re doing, but it’s achievable and the rewards are massive. What a feeling. Kind of like you’re superhuman…..

And as for that monster – right now, he’s having a sleep.

Other things to note about the day:

  • Kate, super hero number 1 bagged up a human poo and removed it from the rocks of Crib Goch. Normal humans, please don’t poo on mountains. And if you do, take it away.
  • We picked off two empty Stella cans from the ridge. John peeled off a sticker. There was garish bright pink graffiti on one of the trig points. Again – not ok.
  • There was a queue of people waiting to have their photos taken on Snowdon summit. They could have just gone straight up to it from a different angle. The Brits do love a queue, don’t they.
  • It was hot. At mile 9.5 – unknown to me we were nearly back at the bus, but I was withering. That’s down to a lack of water. Always take more water.
  • I also need to give a special mention to superhero Jade, whose hat with its wide brim became a focal point for me in times when I felt myself falling back. That hat – was epic.

Failing as part of the process

briggsy1981

Learning when to stop has been an important lesson for me as I strive to slay the Dragon

You know the person that always says hi, is permanently perky, doesn’t shut up giving positive affirmations and constantly tries to cheer other people up? Well that’s me. Mostly.

Being an eternal optimist has always stood me in good stead. I don’t stress about much, I “grab life by the balls”, and all that stuff. But recently, a swathe of pessimism and bad luck started to chip away at that perky exterior.

Training has certainly suffered as a result of a lack of time, but more worryingly, due to a lack of enthusiasm. It’s been totally out of character. The cherry on top of the Cake of Gloom was a proper belter of a head cold/virus, that struck before the weekend recce that would see me attempt 17 miles from Conwy Castle (start of the Dragon’s Back Race), to the Ogwen Valley support point.

As a merry band of Dragons gathered at the meeting point, I knew that although I wasn’t feeling my best – a lack of sleep, a total shocker of a journey up the night before, and a trepidation that I think everyone experiences before these events, I would nonetheless give it my best.

Early on, as the other Dragons skipped their way up the hills – I knew I was far from skipping – more trudging. Reluctantly, begrudgingly. My legs didn’t want to cooperate and my head – well it felt like it might just explode.

I didn’t want to talk. When the lovely team members asked questions and started chattering, I was one-line answers at best. What the hell was going on? One guy even ran back to check in on me. “I’ve been there”, he said. “It chips away at you mentally.” Boy, was he right. Being back of the pack when you’re working at capacity can feel like a grenade to the brain.

RAW Adventures Event leader Kate knew something was up. She’d seen me running in February and knew that things were amiss. Where was the perky Laura she’d met two months ago? She asked gently, maybe we should think about splitting the group?

I didn’t need much convincing. The pace I was running meant at least another seven hours on the mountain. I didn’t want to hold the others back, and I certainly didn’t want to feel like this for another seven hours.

Save your legs, Kate said, Make the next day count.

We turned back at seven miles – after summitting Tal y Fan, and took a gentler slope back down into Conwy. I’d managed 12 slow miles.

I’d cried. I doubted if this was even achievable. This race is not for the feint hearted. Here I was failing on a recce – what the hell chance did I have on race week?

But here’s the thing. We don’t win all the time. In fact every step of the journey is beset by stumbling blocks – mentally and physically. Sure, I could have run the 17 miles but in doing so, what would the rest of that week’s training look like?

At least my legs were fresh enough to summit Pen Yr Ole Wen the following day – just shy of 1,000 metres. By myself, in the mist.

This is a lesson. A powerful one. That no, sometimes Laura you can’t just steamroller through something and hope you’ll wing it with a smile. That a cold, a virus, a blow to your immune system, really will take it out of you, and you can’t just brush that off.

That it’s OKAY to take a few days to eat, drink, rest, recuperate, and come back to a stronger mindset and feel like you can see a way through.

I couldn’t write this blog post for a while. What was the point, I thought? It’s not even like I can run well at the moment. Who even wants to read this? But I think it’s important that I document the low parts, because everyone deserves to know that failure is crucial. It’s the getting back up that makes us stronger…… and see, even the positive mantras are starting to come back to me again!

By the way. Kate, you’re amazing. I think everyone needs a Kate in their lives.

Solo mumming and a pinch of demotivation

briggsy1981

Some weeks it just doesn’t go to plan, even with the best will in the world.

Many of you will be able to relate to the struggle of balancing busy lives with some form of training programme (in my case, training is very fluid!)

These past few weeks I’ve been on child taxi duty for most of it, while my husband works away. The cold nights have left me completely disinterested in even heading out to the shed for a dreadmill session, and it’s a mix of the post-January-February-hangover, and simply just not having the time to get out for a meaningful session.

The run4emily turnout was strong

Day to day I’m trying to fit in my work hours, get the children where they need to be, and keep them and the dogs alive and happy.

It’s made me feel RUBBISH. As much as I say it doesn’t matter if I miss a couple of days, missing a week of any decent training runs has an impact on me and my internal monologue.

Whereby I’m usually very much of the “you can do it” mindset, I’ve been starting to tell myself “you’re losing it”.

Who am I comparing myself to? The other Dragon’s in Training on Strava, super quick 5km runners, mostly men. You can see why I’ve been getting inside my own head.

Yesterday I literally had to drag each leg out of bed to run a route I usually relish. Three miles in and I was hating every step. I changed tactic for the second half, I put some music on – something I rarely do as I like to be present in the moment. God did it help! I was bouncing up the hills, motivation was slowly creeping back. Then, home for a shower, a quick turn around to drive to Warminster and Run4Emily

We get there in the end!

A great turn out, but my heavy legs only had chance for one three mile loop before I had to get home.

Yesterday was a slow run day, but necessary day for getting my head back to where it needs to be. It’ll be more short sessions – intervals, treadmills, hill reps mixed in now. The long runs are great, but my goodness they take time and we are all short on that!

This Dragon in Training is still very much in the game!

When training becomes part of life

briggsy1981

It’s not just a hobby anymore – training has to be a lifestyle choice

Looking out over the Elan Valley, part of the Montane Dragon's Back Race
Remind yourself why you’re doing the training

As the dial on the treadmill sped up to 8 miles an hour and the sweat dripped from my brow, I wondered what exactly it was that drove me to get on the damn thing at 9.30pm in the first place.

Parents and anyone who works, and certainly parents who work, will know that fitting in any kind of exercise class, running session, bike ride, or light stretch, need to choose times that can be utterly inconvenient.

Where a 5K Saturday Parkrun generally fits in with most family’s “free” time – training for a 237-mile multi-day event becomes more of a challenge.

So how can it be done?

For me, changing my mindset of doing exercise as a hobby was key. Exercise couldn’t be just that anymore, it had to be part of my lifestyle. I’d never choose a hobby that involved a 5.30am alarm, or intervals on a treadmill (when is this ever fun?)

Training now is something I need to make happen to ensure events I want to take part in are infinitely more do-able and therefore enjoyable.

I have an idea each week of what I need to achieve. That might be hitting a certain number of miles run, or metres of elevation, or hours of strength training; and then I must plot it in around life. 

I’m supremely lucky in that I can go out for my weekend long run and have a support network that allows that. But when it’s me at the helm, or work commitments have to be met, then the dreaded treadmill, aka DREADMILL, at 9.30pm has to be the way the training gets done. 

No, it’s not always a barrel of laughs, but it’s aiming for an end goal; seeing the bigger picture in the depths of winter when crawling from a comfy bed is literally the last thing you want to do. 

If I want to have the best time traversing the Welsh mountains, or running 50-mile ultra-marathons, or even making it past day 1 of The Dragon’s Back Race, then the leg work has to be done. And therefore, I have to do whatever it takes – after the kids are asleep, or before they’re awake; a snatched lunchbreak; whatever.

As for hobbies – there’s little time left for them!

Sunset over the Dorset Hills
It might mean a sunrise or a sunset run

There are a few tricks I use to drag myself out of bed or run late when I want to go to sleep. Certain mind games I use include:

  • If I haven’t run by the time it’s dark, I tell myself I can either do it then, or it’s a really early start. That way my brain generally convinces myself to get out there.
  • It’s an old classic, but I just get my sports kit on. Just the fact I’m ready to train makes it easier for me to do it. I’ll do the school run looking like a right gym prat, but it tends to work!
  • Use a reward system to convince yourself to work out. On a Sunday, I can tell myself if I run early then they’ll be a roast dinner as a big reward.
  • Take the time to do things with your children and family before or after you train. That way – if you suffer from guilt, then you can reconcile with yourself as you’ve given them your time and attention.
  • Have a visual reminder as to why you’re doing the training. My Dragon’s Back Race map is never far away, so I can remind myself of the work I need to put in.
  • Don’t beat yourself up when life really does get in the way. Rest days are important too, and actually might give you more motivation for getting out there the next day.

Tips from the top: Dragon’s Back Race hacks from former finishers

briggsy1981

I’ve got into the groove this week with a more positive mindset and efforts to do some meaningful training. I’m telling myself over again that this is my race, and my race only. Mild panic set in previously from reading other comments from incredible fell runners who make mountain running look easy, and I wondered if I was in way over my head even attempting the Montane Dragon’s Back Race this year.

Dragon's Back Race webinar with Shane Ohly, Kirsten Isak and Ben Morris

I’ve sat down with a Mountain Leader/navigation guru, and we’ve made plans for a Brecon Beacons recce. I’ve got two weekends in the diary for recce events with Raw Adventures that cover sections of the Dragon’s Back. I’ve starting hill training, strength training, and understanding that I need to run most days again.

One positive move I made was sitting in on a webinar with Shane Ohly (race director), and former participants Kirsten Isak, and Ben Morris. Since watching, I’m breathing a few sighs of relief.

I had this overriding concern that in order to complete DBR I’d need to be a navigation ninja. I’m now reassured that it’s not necessarily the case. A GPX file is given to participants, and there is an event map; but I don’t rest on my laurels – my Brecons training will hopefully hone my skills with a compass and a map, because let’s face it, I don’t want to be reliant on a breadcrumb trail when I’m facing the elements and the Welsh mountains.

Dutch former-DBR participant Kirsten agrees that running with a map and compass is a great idea. Picking a line saves you time and effort.

The second piece of information to really put my mind at ease a little is learning that the marketing images of DBR (the ones where runners are picking along a stretch of spine-like mountain with a seemingly deathly drop) along the technical bit known as Crib Goch, is actually only 300 metres long. Race Director Shane reassured that tens of thousands of tourists go there, you can’t get lost along that bit, and most people don’t die!

Dragon's Back Race route

The really exciting piece of news for me is the details on the food. Breakfast and dinner is provided! Cooked as well – unless you’re after the likes of muesli and cereal. For the record, I’m all about the food. My philosophy is eat like you don’t know where your next meal is coming from!

My sticking point currently is which footwear I need. My diehard barefoot friends say that my Vibram Fivefingers should be allowed, and would recommend I stick with those, however Eleanor Clarinbold of Dragon’s Back Race recommends something more robust, given the extreme terrain. I’m going to have to do lots of testing and getting out there to find out what I feel most confident in. Both Ben Morris and Kirsten Footwear say footwear is massively important – the biggest thing to get right. They suggest three or four pairs – a camp pair to use for running on road, that’s comfy and roomy, and something tight and grippy for rocky days. A trail shoe, for obvious reasons. But I want to throw barefoot in there too, for times when the terrain isn’t so brutal. After all, it’s what my feet know.

It’s great to hear from a former female participant. Kirsten herself even says it’s a shame more women don’t enter. Part of the reason I’m documenting my journey – to encourage more women to take the plunge and take on the Dragon.

Extra handy Dragon hacks from Shane, Ben and Kirsten:

  • Give some serious consideration to your sleeping mat (don’t save weight on this!) Get a good one.
  • Test your kit rigorously beforehand.
  • Pack two head torches – one for camp that you don’t have to worry about packing for the run
  • Less kit in camp is better.
  • Sort your food rations and label them for each day.
  • Keep it simple. Don’t give yourself to worry about.
  • Pack the night before so you’re not rushing in the morning.

You can watch the Dragon’s Back webinar with Shane, Kirsten, and Ben, here

Dragon’s Back Race

briggsy1981

The One Where I’m Given a Place and I’m Still in Shock

There are a few films which document a certain race – The Dragon’s Back. It spans from Conwy to Cardiff in Wales, and it takes in all the spiky, spiny, mountainy bits. It’s 236 miles, and if you like nicely rounded numbers, 380km; oh and it ascends 17,400metres.

The aim is for participants to run it in six days, and about two year’s ago I watched a film about it, saw its brutality, and turned to my husband vowing I’d never even consider doing a run like that – it looked to be certain death.

Fast forward to right now, and I find myself in a strange predicament where I’m preparing to run this beast, and I’m feeling nervous mostly, but also strangely excited about doing something that’s so extraordinarily far out of my comfort zone.

How on earth did this happen, you may ask. Well, I chanced my arm and wrote to my editor at Women’s Running Magazine if I could ask for a press pass to run the Ourea Events race, the Cape Wrath Ultra. She’s lovely, so she said to go for it, but what happened was that the media passes had already gone for that particular run. Instead, they asked, would I be interested in running Dragon’s Back Race?

Where I realise I better start running a lot more

I said yes. I flipping said yes. It just happened. I couldn’t stop myself, I turned the negatives around and figured it would be an immensely fun challenge, one that wouldn’t be without a hell of a lot of ups and downs (yeah, bad pun I know).

They say do one thing every day that scares you, so I suppose this ticks the boxes for six days in September.

I’ve got to do some serious prep now. I need to get acquainted far more with mountains. I need to up my navigation game and I have to find myself some shoes that will keep me upright – not allowed to run the Dragon’s Back barefoot!

I need all the help I can get here. I’ve booked onto two recce events on the mountains with RAW Adventures and I’ve tapped up a local Mountain Leader for some navigation training.

Next thing to do is run. A lot. A hell of a lot.

Watch out peeps – Dragon in Training!

More mountains please!