Tag: ultra running

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.

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.

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

Vegan ultra running

briggsy1981

Running 300 miles fuelled by plants

I used to get told fairly frequently that I wouldn’t have the energy to sustain a long run if I just ate a vegan diet. That was when the notion of running a really, really long way for charity was just the seed of an idea.

The likes of Eddie Izzard had run multiple marathons to raise money, and countless celebrities had scaled mountains and traversed anaconda-infested waters for worthy causes, so why on earth couldn’t I do something equally as ridiculous?

In July I became the first person to run The Macmillan Way – which runs from Boston in Lincolnshire, to Abbotsbury in Dorset. The route itself is just shy of 300 miles, but I sure as hell ran at least that. And guess what? I’m a vegan, and I did it without any injuries. A couple of blisters were the most I had to complain about – and a lack of sleep, and of course a lack of anyone to talk to for miles, and miles, and miles.

So how does anyone run that far on a diet that consists of plants? Pretty well, it turns out. Look at the likes of Fiona Oakes and Scott Jurek (all hail and praise be – these are two of some the most phenomenal vegan ultra-runners), and it’s enough to realise that meat and animal produce does not equate to energy or strength.

Mindset was the biggest hurdle for me. Running that far on my own, for the first time in my life, and over terrain that I hadn’t recce’d before, meant that my brain gave me more agro than my body.

I had to force myself out of bed – for all but one night that was in a VW camper van called Arthur II. The one night Arthur didn’t provide my shelter was only because we parked up in the space outside a mate’s workshop, so I had a mattress on the floor. I was up at 4am, and out the door within an hour. And I had to force down food. Pasta with tomato sauce, new potatoes covered in salt and olive oil, luke-warm cauliflower bites, chips, bananas, bananas, bananas, oh, and nectarines. My crew, consisting of my husband, more often than not wouldn’t have time to boil the kettle in time for my next check point and I craved a cup of tea, ALL THE TIME. So instead, it was cans of coke and cold stuff and vegan Magnums.

I was running in the height of the summer. The heatwave had been turning the grass to tinder just the week before, but it hung in the air, so it was like running under a pinned-down duvet. I felt like a boil in the bag meal, slowly cooking in my skin. The nectarines were my little taste of heaven when I needed hydration but couldn’t take on any more drink.

The overdosing on fruit then had its own repercussions. Needing to hide behind every available bush each time I took on any food or drink became a hideous necessity, and it was incredibly wearying. It sapped me of even more energy, but I had enough in the bank.

The hills of the Cotswolds and Somerset, and the latter hills through the Dorset countryside and right up to the finish line had it in for me. I’d trained for the distance, but not for the elevation, and on day two I wondered what the bejeezus I’d let myself in for.

I was doing this for a reason. I was running for Macmillan Cancer Support – check out the Just Giving lowdown on that, and so I knew I wasn’t going to give up.

I ran it in six days, 13 hours, nine minutes and 42 seconds. Go on, check it out on http://www.fastestknowntime.com – it’s there, in black and white!

So, in a nutshell (nuts were consumed wildly, too), I did it on sheer grit and determination, a very sensible eating plan, which consisted of all the food – rice, pasta, Active Root sports drink, a bit of luck, and a lot of support!

Following that run, I am here to share the great news that as a vegan you are not at a disadvantage physically (in case anyone was still under that impression), and to talk about all things vegan, fitness and running. HURRAH.