vegan runner – Vegan Fitness Runner

A Hatchling is born

15th Sep 202315th Sep 2023 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.

What does 50 miles feels like?

17th May 202317th May 2023 briggsy1981

When you push your body and mind to its limits, it can feel euphoric when you cross the finish line. You can also just feel exhausted!

I’m always humbled when it’s Marathon time of year – you know, all those inspiring people who’ve won a place at the start of London Marathon to raise money for charity and spread awareness for good causes, those who earned themself a holy grail ticket to run Boston Marathon because they’re just phenomenal runners, and all the others in between. With the rise of the ultra, it’s easy to forget just how far and tough a “normal” marathon really is.

I first ran one in 2009. It was then the Flora London Marathon. I was in my early 20s, before I was married with kids. I’d done the absolute minimal training, I certainly wasn’t a regular runner, and I hate road running. No surprise really that it took me 5 hours 35 minutes, and I felt very underwhelmed at the finish line.

That was well before I got any kind of real love for running. My trail adventure running came much, much later. As for road marathons – that was it for me. I’ve not done one since.

Now though, I understand the need for training. That you can’t just throw a pair of shoes on and hope to get a good time, or even to feel good at the finish. While a marathon is tough, really tough. How exactly does someone then go and run 50 miles?

I’ll try and explain. I’m a back of packer, but I know that all I need to do is throw one foot in front of the other. I can be quicker, that comes with very specific training, but at the point in my training for the Dragon’s Back right now, I know I just need to up the miles and the elevation. Really, the elevation is the killer here.

Training has been consistent but not quite where I’ve wanted it to be, given time constraints of family life and juggling work, dogs (not literally juggling them – they’re far too heavy), and children. I was ill in April too which threw me totally and messed up my plans for any quality running.

Talking to Dragon’s Back Race Director Shane Ohly over on the podcast – he had already told me, you mustn’t go into this event underprepared!

So when the Albion Hilly 50-mile ultra marathon popped its head up, I figured, I need to do this.

I know what you’re thinking. Not much training again. Why would you do that?

Here’s why. Because I’m going to have to do something tougher come September and putting myself outside of the comfort zone was necessary. For my confidence; to get the miles in my legs; and to just get some serious elevation – away from the flats I’m used to. This route would take us from Minehead up all the hilliest hills Somerset could throw at us – Bossington Hill, over to Porlock Weir, Webber’s Post, to Dunkery Beacon and back again.

This was a bit of a make or break moment. Could I actually cover the distance over 8,300ft?

I hooked up with a fellow runner, who was trepidatious about it too. We made a vow that we’d get each other round. Having that kind of pact makes it harder to quit.

For the first three miles we went off too fast. Ten minute miling maybe. That’s because there were runners up ahead who would break the course record – it’s easy to get swept along in that kind of frenzy. My runner partner and I however, are not those people! I pulled right back. I know my body and it takes me about five miles before I’ve got into any kind of stride. The uphills were walked, the downs and the flats run. We took photos in the sunshine. For 25 or 30 miles it was glorious.

Eating frequently and taking on fluids is vital. The weather was hot, and you can easily forget to fuel if you don’t feel like it. It’s a matter of forcing it down. With such wonderful checkpoint volunteers, they advised that one stretch would be an 11-mile uphill slog before the next aid station, and that we should eat as many Marmite sandwiches and pickles as we could before attempting it. I took their advice. I frequently ate.

Although this was a partly way marked course, you had to have your wits about you and navigation was key. We took a couple of wrong turns. Trying to ascend to the summit of Dunkery Beacon (highest point in Somerset), while having chosen the incorrect path, saw my mood dip and I snapped at my compadre – I was getting tired and we were going the wrong way.

After we righted ourselves and hit the top of the Beacon in dazzling sunlight, we sailed through the next few miles. The sun dipped and our next challenge was getting through the woods before nightfall. We made it, but with darkness comes new challenges.

It was hard to see underfoot. Bumps look flat, and hills look hillier, sheer drops you can’t see at all! I fell once, but luckily it was a soft landing. A good head torch gives you confidence in the dark.

I’d anticipated some niggles in my legs, and especially my feet, because I was trying out the shoes I’ll wear on the Dragon’s Back Race. The niggles never came. This told me that although I didn’t feel I had trained enough, what I was doing was paying off. If anything, it was my back and shoulders that were starting to stiffen. Wearing a pack and leaning into hills will do that.

The final eight miles were both a mental uplift and a total physical slog. By this point I felt nauseous at every sip of drink – Active Root sports drink – or every nibble of food. The pace was slow. My partner’s knee was starting to hurt. Nevertheless, by this stage, you know you’ve done it.

We powered on. We fast hiked the final mile, and finished feeling – erm, quite good actually. Euphoric? Maybe not. Knackered? Most certainly – it was 2.30am, after all!

Huge thanks to Albion Running for such a gorgeous event. The volunteers were fabulous and the food selection was dreamy for a vegan!

Albion also offers a Flat 50, and the 100 (if you fancy doing both hilly and flat!), as well as other fab races, which you can find on their website.

Failing as part of the process

6th Apr 20236th Apr 2023 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.

When training becomes part of life

19th Feb 202318th Feb 2023 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.

Dragon’s Back Race

1st Jan 202314th Jan 2023 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!