Saturday 22nd June 2024

📍 Coed-y-Brenin, South Snowdonia

📏 53 Miles // 86km

📈 11,468ft // 3,500m

North Wales is home to some of the most dramatic landscapes the UK has to offer; the beautiful combination of rolling hills, vast mountains and sweeping glacial valleys.

In the shadow of Cadair Idris, one of the area’s highest peaks, lies the sleepy town of Dogellau - where I found myself cosied up in a lush B&B the night before Game Day.

After one of the most horrific car journeys up from the south, I was welcomed into Snowdonia with some outrageous views of the fun to be endured the following day: the intimidating shadows of the beastly climbs on offer.

The scenic end to the journey only got better as I approached race registration at the Coed Y Brenin Vistor Centre.

Nestled deep within an ancient pine forest, the Centre played host to the start and finish of the race to come.

After picking up my race number and catching up with some old friends from the GB Ultras family, I made a swift escape 15 mins back down the road to Dogellau to get some much needed rest…

The Pre

Proper night-before-Christmas vibe on the sleep front: next to fuck all! Being well versed in the shit-sleep department, I didn’t feel to bad on it following a successful couple of days’ carb loading - more specific than ever.

Even though it was 05:15am, there was still an exciting buzz around Race HQ - both metaphorically and literally, as an army of mosquitoes descended upon runners and supporters alike.

After meeting some of my fellow Runners in the hustle, alongside the inevitable questions about how crazy my choice of footwear was etc etc, it was time for the usual pre-race routine.

I found a quiet corner, sat down and went through the motions in settling the mind before the plunge…

Coed-y-Brenin > Dol Idris - 16 Miles

The first 22 miles took us through the enchanting Coed Y Brenin - breaking us in nice and easy with some gentle rolling trails, made slightly more tricky by the sticky humidity hanging in the air.

I got a bit overexcited and stuck with the lead group till mile 5, before remembering what the race plan was and dropping off. Less than a mile later, it was up the first climb of the day.

A couple of kegs plodding gently up a steep woodland trail led us to Precipice Walk - a 3 mile stretch (ish) that rewarded the early work with the first vistas of the day.

Twas an early indicator of the sheer size of the landscape - a humbling reminder of just how vast some of these hea climbs were going to be for the rest of the day.

Around 6 miles later, we made the descent into Dolgellau to CP1 - where, as planned, I didn’t hang about for long.

A quick fill up of flasks and a slice of watermelon, straight up into the second climb of the day.

A boggy paddle through some semblance of a footpath-turned-stream; and we were back in the middle of nowhere.

The 6 miles to Dol Idris were sketchy at best - as I stuck with 2 other guys in an attempt to navigate the quagmires on descent.

A couple of falls and a bush poo later, and we were there. CP2, home and hosed, at the foot of the Beast…

Man v Mountain | Cadair Idris > Barmouth - 31 Miles

Standing at a scary 890m, Cadair Idris is the biggest climb of the day - with 750m across 2.5 miles ahead.

With some pretzels, tailwind and a healthy handful of haribo in the tank, we set off at a decent pace - with the aim being to maintain a strong hike up to the summit.

Helped along the way by the ever-positive smiling faces of the Mountain Marshal Team, I made good progress up the climb - marching up the stone steps at a solid pace.

The final half mile required a little scramble here and there, and before long I was above the clouds staring into the abyss - an undoubtedly breathtaking view marred by low-lying cloud.

The descent was a little more tricky - with a few miles of boulder fields to negotiate, before hitting an actual footpath and some much needed refuge for the feet after getting a pounding on the slate scrambles up.

I caught up with an awesome dude, Mr Gary Pawson (who ended out finishing 6th overall) - who I joined at CP3 for the long, flat slog along the Estuary to the seaside town of Barmouth for CP4.

The flat cycle path provided a good platform to knock out some solid running for a good 6/7 miles - made all the more easier with good company.

Gary was well versed in the ultra scene - and spoke of his recent escapades with GB Ultras, only a couple of weeks before finishing 3rd at the Scotland 50 miler in another notch towards the Grand Slam for this calendar year.

Having spent the majority of Cadair riding solo, it was nice to have someone to run with on a stretch that would have otherwise been rather boring - and together we smashed through and over the Barmouth Bridge to CP4.

A quick jig of the GPS Tracker that had not been working, a load up of watermelon (elite mid-run snack), and we were off on to the next stretch.

Barmouth > Pont Scethin - 40 Miles

The first 35 miles had come without any issues on my end - and I felt stronger than ever as we ascended a steep section of road before we were back on the trails towards the infamous Rhinogs.

It was here when things started getting a wee bit spicy.

At the top of a 4 mile climb up and over, my legs started seizing up big time - and it seemed that no amount of salt tabs, squashies or water would shift it.

I let Gary and Mark plough on down, while I started to enter a Hurt Locker trudging along a flat-ish stretch of moorland to CP5.

The legs were cramping no end, with ever-growing intensity, which made every step a challenge. In an attempt to keep pace, I stuck to a clump-to-clump run walk strategy that kept me going to the checkpoint.

With the sun high in the sky, bearing down strong on the ginger skin, it felt much longer than it was - but we trudged on to the mark for a longer rest, albeit psychologically wavering.

The marshals immediately helped fill the flasks and feed me with salty potatoes, pretzels and tailwind in further attempts to shift the cramps. Having dropped from 7th to 9th position, I knew that things were going a bit south - and I was going to have to carefully manage the final 12 miles in order to not fuck myself up too much.

I left the checkpoint slightly rejuvenated, fully loaded with water and ready salted crisps, plodding steadily on to what would be the hardest couple of hours of my life to date…

Rhinog Fach - Into The Cave @ 42 Miles

I’d spent much of my preparation studying Cadair as the biggest climb of the race, and let Rhinog Fach go under the radar - which ended out biting me on the ass.

Following the first climb up onto the Rhinogs, the impending challenge dawned as the cramps started to come back with a vengeance.

Great timing as we approached the most technical part of the route…

Having chatted to a bloke called Mark en route, I knew this was going to be a bit of a tricky one - made ten times harder by the state of the pins.

It was at this point where I started faltering mentally. The pain was like nothing I have ever experienced on a run before, and confronted with near-vertical scrambles as the wind picked up only made things worse.

Couple that with the fact a Mountain Rescue Helicopter was circling well and truly plunged me into a dark hole of self doubt.

Every agonising step was compounded by fear, with sheer 400m drops either side of the narrow route up to the summit. At points, it felt like my quads were on the verge of snapping - and my calf kept locking my foot into dodgy angles that made climbing overwhelmingly tricky.

The two smiling faces of the Mountain Team at the summit of Rhinog Fach had to deal with a major Bitch Fit after being well and truly bullied by the Welsh Mountains - something I since had to apologise for!

Things only go worse on the descent as technicality increased, and the stark reality of making a wrong step to a grave end became a genuine possibility in my head.

A couple of falls and a very dogged stretch of descent led us back to safety - but the Rhinog had taken its toll.

The flat stretch to CP6 through heather and moorland had to go on at a slow pace as my quads and hamstrings began to lose function - but again, we trudged on through to the checkpoint.

10 miles of sheer agony, 12 places dropped and psychologically broken.

CP6 > Finish - 53 Miles

The final checkpoint brought yet another fleet of unwavering support from the GB Family - who could see the state of me, and gave me some much-appreciated words of positivity before hitting the final 5 miles.

At this point, I was just overwhelmed with relief to be off the mountain in one piece having gotten into the worst Cave of my running career to date. 5 miles along some decent trails, and we were home and hosed.

Fully salted, sugared and hydrated, we left the checkpoint to finally get the battle won. At this point, I knew that 12 hours was going to be out of reach - a grim reality given how strong I was at the 35 mile mark - but we needed to double down and get the job done.

A run-walk was all I could muster until we hit the final mile on the A470, with another wave of relief that I was actually going to finish!

Greeted with a wee crowd, I got the final burst of adrenaline to send it on the last 500m over the line. Despite the initial disappointment of losing so much time in the last stretch, the sense of achievement still hit as I passed the line in a time of 12:23:46” ; 25th out of 277 Warriors.

Emotions were running high, and I was unbelievably grateful to be welcomed home by Wayne and the GB Crew who delivered the usual words of congratulations before handing us a much-needed beer.

Medal, photo, debrief with some of the other incredible guys and girls who had crossed the line, and we were done.

A tale of two halves!

The Final Word

The GB Ultra Wales 50 was an absolute Beast of a race.

Set amidst the most breathtaking scenery I have ever seen, the route was as brutal as it was beautiful - and I am so grateful to have had the opportunity to run in such a stunning area.

Not for the faint-hearted, this is a race that should definitely not be underestimated - but, that said, the horrific ascents and quad-destroying descents are rewarded with some of the greatest views the UK has to offer.

For me, there are many positives to take from my race - but very definitely a valuable learning curve as I approach my biggest challenge yet of the Race Across Scotland 215 in August.

I highly recommend this for anyone looking for one hell of a fucking challenge - one that will bully you no end, but with an incredible sense of achievement once over the line.

Pure insanity. Wales, you took a piece of my soul - and I will forever be grateful for the experiences you gave me on another epic journey out in the sticks.

Thanks to Wayne and the whole GB Team for putting on this superb event - I will definitely be back in years to come!