Richard Lander Stow

The Cape Wrath Ultra is a 400km foot race from Fort William to Cape Wrath following the unsigned Cape Wrath Trail. A large percentage of the race is on rough boggy ground and in 2021 the race was held in August so the midges were out in full force adding an extra challenge for anyone travelling slowly and adding some extra drama to the overnight camps. The race in 2021 had been postponed from May 2020 due to the Covid-19 pandemic and then postponed from May to August in 2021.

I have completed Cape Wrath Ultra before, so I knew what to expect and I had taken on Marcus Scotney, current race record holder, as my coach. I had an aggressive time goal but an extra 18 months of training, in which I had perfectly hit nearly all of my training sessions, meant that I was very confident coming into the final few months. Not only could I hit my time goal, but maybe I could podium or even win the race out right!

All of this excellent preparation took a big hit in June 2021 when I came down with a respiratory virus. It had all the symptoms of Covid-19 but multiple lateral flow tests and two PCR tests all came back negative. My chest was congested and I felt terrible, unable to run for about 2.5 weeks. By the time the main virus symptoms had abated it was time to taper for the race. I had post viral fatigue to deal with and my confidence took a hit because I had missed some of the biggest training weeks. I would be turning up to the race as an unknown quantity, not just to others, but also unknown to myself. What did my body have left to give?

Just looking at my pre-race photo tells quite the story. I look exhausted and pale before the race had even begun. I decided to be optimistic though. I would give it my best and see what happened.

During the race in 2021 the accommodation was in tiny two man tents. This was to satisfy the social distancing laws in Scotland. Normally in this type of race you share an 8-man tent which has the benefit of a large covered area in which to do admin and get changed. The tiny two man tents were much more cramped. I couldn’t even sit up, and when lying down my head and feet were both touching opposite ends of the tent. At 6’ tall I wasn’t even the tallest person in the race.

As part of the event entrants are provided with a waterproof route map which is truly excellent. It is very well designed and can easily be cut into 3 different pieces. It is mandatory equipment on the hill and must be carried at all times. I had the section with the current route on in an easy to access pocket at all times. It is much easier to plan ahead with a map in hand than it is to follow a line on a GPS watch.

At the end of each day we were given a printout showing our time and splits for the day and a recommended start window for the following day. This was important because you could start any time between 7am and 9am. If you decided to start too late and got disqualified at a checkpoint with a mandatory time cut-off it would be entirely your fault!

I was extremely privileged that many friends and colleagues were inspired by the race and my efforts. This resulted in an unprecedented amount of Ultra Mail™ which could be submitted via the race tracking website. Each evening I would get my messages printed out by the race organiser and by the end I had several meters of messages printed. They really helped to keep me going on the tough days.

If you look carefully you will see Ultrabunny’s white ears in one picture. My daughter gave me Ultrabunny as a lucky running mascot several years ago and we have completed (and sometimes failed) many races together.

Day 1 – Just a quick jaunt!

Day 1 at Cape Wrath is misleading. It is short at 23 miles and it is fast with only 500m of elevation gain, and lots of runnable trails. It is easy to go out too fast and for such a short day, it can have an immeasurably negative impact on the rest of your race if you go too fast. It sounds short to a multi-day ultra runner, but is still nearly a trail marathon!

Two key points to this kind of race.

• Walk the hills. This is a 50 to 90 hour race and if you wont be running the hills at the end you shouldn’t be running them at the beginning.

• Losing a small amount of time on day one is nothing, but going too fast by even a few minutes can lose you hours later in the race

In 2021 it was a hot day and I was aiming to take it easy and finish in around 3 hrs 20 minutes. Something wasn’t right though. My pace was right but my heart rate just kept climbing. 

It was a hot day and at one point I almost stepped on an Adder. I have never seen one before and my brain didn’t register it as dangerous. I didn’t realise I had stepped next to a snake until it recoiled and hissed. I was lucky not to get bitten. I saw another one a couple of miles later, but I was much more alert to it.

After the first few miles I was running along a wide trail up a glorious glen for quite some time. It climbed very gradually and a couple of other runners caught up to me just before we were due to turn off to climb the main hill of the day. We power hiked together up the hill and as the terrain became rougher on the descent I left them behind again. I’m generally very confident on downhills and prefer them as rough as possible. It allows me to make up a lot of time over my competitors with little effort. My heart rate was still 20 beats higher per minute than I expected though.

At the bottom of the decent the path became a wide trail again and there were just a few rolling miles to the finish. I caught up with Sabrine Verjee, who had recently set a new Wainwrights record and still had tired legs, and came over the finish line in 3 hrs and 26 minutes. There was a bridge closure so we had a short mini bus ride to the finish.

I was about 9th overall of the 89 starters, but something definitely wasn’t right. My heart rate had been too high throughout the day, and I was much more tired than I should have been. In the overnight camp, in the shadow of the beautiful Glenfinnan Viaduct, I took care of myself. I rested, ate and drank and was in bed and asleep by 9pm.

Day 2 – The wheels come off!

I had a lot of sleep last night. In fact, much more sleep than I’ve had in a single night for a long time. The camp emptied fast after 7am though, and I was left alone with one or two others. I had plenty of time. I figured I was in great shape and there was no rush because I would still be in plenty of time for the first cut-off.

I had a decent breakfast. All vegan as that is how the event runs and I know from training that I have no issue eating and running. 

Once ready I set off and didn’t see anyone until I was about 10km and over the first major hill of the day. My quads felt a bit sore on the first descent which seemed like a warning sign and at about 12km I noticed that instead of getting hungry I was feeling nauseous. Something definitely was not right! I kept pushing, keeping my tempo and eating when I knew I should eat rather than going on hunger. It was really hard to get food and drink in while my stomach felt so rough. The sun was also beating down and I was drinking a lot, having to stop frequently to top up my bottles in streams.

I progressed through the field, but got to the point that I was slowing and I found myself moving along with Terry and Glen. After a very rough technical section, and one of the steepest climbs of the race. I was still moving but feeling very bad. I was unable to get enough food in, I felt sick and my energy levels were dropping rapidly. After a few miles I could no longer keep up and other folk started to catch up with me as I made my way through the final few miles. It didn’t help that the last miles felt like an endless sequence of rough rocky trail and short sharp hills in the baking sun. I was in tears at several points, feeling so bad and just wanting to quit. I wanted it to be over. Would this be the end of my race?

Just in the last mile Geoff caught me up. Geoff was moving well and I managed to pick up my pace to keep with him, so at least I looked like a runner again when I crossed the line! The marshal at the finish asked me how the day had gone, and it was all I could do not to break down. I told her how hard it had been and how many times I had wanted to quit. I wish I could remember what she said, because whatever it was it was perfect. She said the right thing and struck a balance between sympathy, optimism and determination. It gave me just enough energy to confront my expectations for the race which had been utterly crushed. It appeared that the virus had taken quite a large amount of my ability to perform in the way I had managed during so many long training sessions just two months before. I had to ask myself whether I would be happy enough just finishing the race rather than fighting for the win like I had expected.

The answer didn’t take long. Of course I was going to finish! No matter where I placed I was going to hang in, and fight until I arrived at the Cape Wrath lighthouse. Just 6 days and 190 miles to go……. that’s more than the entirety of most normal multi-day races! The Ultra Mail™ messages from all my friends and colleagues were a massive part in helping me find the courage to make that decision. I owe many of those folk more beers than they could ever know. 

That evening I drank well. It had been a hot long day and I was very dehydrated and extremely tired. I made sure that I refueled, rehydrated and took care of myself as well as I possibly could. Day 3 would be the hardest terrain of the race, and I would have to find a way to look after myself, get through the day and somehow find a way to recover my strength and my wits on a day that would be pushing most people to their limits.

Day 3 – Just keep running!

Day 3 starts with a climb. Not just any climb, but a climb that becomes pathless and rough, starts at sea level and climbs to the highest point on the race. It was also quite sheltered for the most part, so the midges were out. I found myself moving along and breathing midges. They were biting and buzzing in my ears and nose so I had to put my midge net on. It was the only time in the race when I was racing while wearing a midge net. It definitely was not a nice way to start my “recovery” day, but it didn’t phase me. I was prepared and kept moving. Not only that but I was moving well. I was steadily moving past other people in the field. The weather was slightly cooler which helped massively.

About one third of the way through I caught up with Geoff on a forest trail and we joked about our “sprint” finish the day before. I chatted with him for a while and then moved on. I bumped into another runner a few minutes later who had come from the same part of England as me. Again I chatted for a bit and then moved on. As I descended to the falls of Glomach I caught up with a couple of familiar faces: Matt and Taz. We had started talking on day 1 and I always enjoyed seeing them out on the course. I left them behind as I dropped down the technical descent, really enjoying myself down the side of the mountain.

A lot of the rest of the day is largely a blank but I remember feeling ok. At one point, about 10km from the finish, I was on a wide trail and the light was great when the sun lit up a small orange object in the center of the trail in front of me. It was a satsuma. A perfect little satsuma. After a brief inspection I peeled and ate it. It was very nice. I’m not sure who dropped it, but I made sure it wasn’t wasted!

After a pathless section and a big climb I crested the final hill of the day and found myself atop a large set of cliffs. I spotted the path through and put myself into downhill mode. I shot down the technical single track through the cliffs and out into a steep heathery hillside. I picked my route at quite a speed and picked off several pairs of runners in the 3 miles descent to camp. I finished with a big grin on my face, and as soon as I checked in I turned, walked back a couple of hundred meters and jumped straight into the river. 

It may have been the hardest terrain on paper, but I came through it unscathed and felt better than I did at the end of day 2. At this point I stopped looking at the results, my new outlook made them secondary to finishing the race. I wouldn’t look at my overall position with any care for another few days.

The biggest downside of the day? Midges in camp by their thousands. Thick swarms that would ambush the unprepared and would follow you back into your tent, no matter how hard you tried to avoid them. Any unprotected skin felt like it was brushed with nettles as the midges swarmed and bit.

Day 4 – The bog of oblivion

Day 4 is one heck of a day. It’s short at 22 miles but it is deceptively hard. There is a lot of rocky single track climbing and technical descending before getting to one of the most spectacular sights of the race: Loch Coire Mhie Fhearchair behind Benn Eighe. The route then does everything it can to crush your spirits with possibly the longest roughest section of the race. It’s 5-6km of never ending bog, rock and heather with no path and no single step the same as the one before. It’s hard to convey just how daunting this section is. Fortunately I was prepared. I had been doing specific training sessions for exactly this across some of the roughest sections of south dartmoor. 

I was overtaking small groups of people with relative ease as I picked my way rapidly through the terrain. Often people would call over “are you on a path?” My response was “there is no path, don’t bother looking. Just keep moving through.”

For a while Ernest joined me, making the most of my confidence and route finding. He was a pleasure to talk to and one of the race heroes. He had an insole issue on day 2 and the soles of both of his feet were both heavily blistered. I have no idea how he carried on, but he did and he went on to finish the race!

As I came out of the rough terrain and crested the final hill I hit the extremely loose rocky descent with quite a lot of enthusiasm. One of the media team was up there and spotted me. He showed his own awesome running skills by keeping pace with me while filming me for a couple of hundred meters. A small clip of that footage made it into the official film for the day.

I was exhausted by the time I finally made it in to camp, but it was still only mid-afternoon. There was a wonderful swimming spot nearby in a deep river so I spent some time floating about in there chatting with other runners.

My appetite was becoming quite formidable. Day 4 was a day when I simply could not stop eating. I had chips and bread as a snack when I got in. I had two main meals, an extra chip roll and two puddings for dinner. All were large portions and I polished it off with no problem.

Day 5 – A most beautiful wilderness

Day 5 is little more than a marathon, but it is a very remote and hard day. It would be the day that I met two fascinating characters. First there was Mark who twisted his knee on about day 2 and was still in the race. He couldn’t walk or run quite properly with his twisted knee but he was still moving forward and moving well. He had previously completed all of the Scottish Munros and was a brilliant tour guide, pointing out the surrounding mountains and telling me what their names meant. The views we had of An Teallach were particularly grand.

In one of the remotest sections of the day I met Mike. It turned out that Mike was a retired doctor and previous race medic on Cape Wrath Ultra and the Dragon’s Back Race. When I discovered this I also mentioned my own attempt at the Dragon’s Back Race in 2017. I then recognised him as the race doctor that had sent me to hospital with a suspected fractured kneecap which was the end of my Dragon’s Back attempt. He was absolutely right to send me to hospital as I was properly battered, covered in blood and with an extremely swollen knee. It was great to see him and catch-up with him. How amazing for him to now be in such a race after many years of seeing the worst of what people do themselves on such events. Of course he went on to finish!

As the day went on my good humour evaporated when it became apparent that I had an issue in a left quad muscle. It was very sore in a very small point and I could no longer go downhill very well. It was also hurting on the flat. This did not bode well. I kept moving forward and had a horrendous time on the final descent which was extremely steep and rocky. You could also see the camp below you from a long way up. Finally I got into camp and could stop running. This time quitting did not cross my mind. I had already formed my management plan.

I made my way to the river and cleaned myself up. I then put on some clean clothes and made my way to the medic tent. I looked a bit odd as none of my clothing matched, but the physio appreciated the effort to be fresh and clean. She examined my leg, taped it up and gave me some tips to manage it through the race.

Day 5 was the last of the short days for a while, but it was also the day that saw many people quit. Fatigue and injury from the first 4-5 days catchup with people and they have the specter of two long and very hard days ahead. Day 6 is the longest day of the race with the hardest terrain of the day book ending the race. It simply becomes too much for either body or mind for many racers.

Day 6 – A run and a chat, some giggling

Day 6 was all about managing my sore leg. I met the most excellent running partner in Al quite early in the day and we ended up spending the whole day together. We kept each other moving and we helped each other through the tough times. It was a perfect match for the day. It was also a day when thunder and lightning was predicted, but I’m quite glad that we never saw any, particularly on the high sections towards the end of the day. There was a bit of rain though which was lovely and cooling.

Something weird happened about 5 or 6 miles into the day on some extremely rough terrain. I slipped and started to fall. Without thinking I dug my left foot into the ground to save myself and all my body weight and momentum went through my injured quad. It hurt a lot for a second and then I felt a crunch in the muscle. I can’t think of any way to describe it. The muscle literally crunched. There was no noise, just a sensation. I continued to be wary of the muscle for the rest of the day, but the pain was gone. The muscle felt fine and would not trouble me again for the rest of the race.

How bizarre!

The middle section of day 6 is pretty much a marathon of wide low trail, passing plenty of farmland so drinking water is scarce. Part way along this trail I met Mark again with the twisted knee. He was moving well and was overtaking me, but he was covered in mud. We were all thirsty and just then a stream appeared bursting out of the hillside and cascading over a rock, so we all stopped, drank and filled our bottles. I asked Mark about the mud all over his shirt and it turned out he had fallen earlier in the day and dislocated his shoulder. Another runner helped him and after a few minutes he got it popped back in. Now here he was running along with a smile on his face and observing that his shoulder was still quite painful. Mark was another race hero. He finished the whole race and placed extremely high in the rankings despite his injuries.

Day 6 finishes with a long climb up a wet pathless section and over a pass next to Conival. It’s brutal when you’ve already covered 40 miles, but finally you come over the top of the pass and camp becomes visible. It’s still a way to go but you’ve done it and the longest day of the race is finally over. Just after Al and I finished the heavens opened with massive dense big rain and absolutely punished anyone left out on the course!

Day 7 – Flying through the roughest terrain

When I got up I had no idea how I was going to perform today. That seemed to be a theme for the event. Each morning I would get up and simply would not know how the day would pan out. I had no consistency, but it kept things interesting. As it turned out it seemed I was finally beginning to get into some sort of form, although I still felt like a shadow of the runner I was prior to the virus.

The elevation for day 7 all comes in the first half which means it feels hillier than the stats would suggest. It starts with a big climb upto a lovely pass at 623m, but today there would be no view thanks to low cloud. The descent off the pass was on a path but generally rough and descended all the way back to sea level again. The further you got down the hill the rougher it got until a sharp turn off the path and down a heathery hillside to a river crossing. For the next two miles there was no path, but there was some entertainment in the form of a metal wire fence which had rusted and decayed so the metal posts were rusty spikes hidden in the bog and heather. The wire that linked the posts was also running in rusty loops that were all too easy to trip over. While negotiating this, some of the roughest of the terrain, I ran past the waterfall with the highest drop in the UK (200m!). Thankfully I remembered to look up.

I was motoring well at this point and just kept moving all the way around Lochs Glencoul and Glendhu before starting up the wide track to the only summit of the race, Ben Dreavie. There is a spectacular view from the top before a rough boggy descent that gets better as you go down until a short road stretch. This is where the character of the day changes. The rest of the route on day 7 is almost flat in comparison, but it has several miles of endless rough ground past a couple of lochs. It really is an extremely tough section that I had been dreading. My legs felt great though and I was comfortably making time up on a lot of other runners.

The last few miles into camp are all on a rolling road that you can see winding away ahead of you. I put my head down and just kept moving. My legs were starting to think about cramping in places and I was really worried about picking up an injury before the last day, so I eased off and just kept moving through the last few miles. I had a shock at the top of the final descent though when another runner, George, appeared at my elbow. He was flying along and had made the most of his road running speed. I couldn’t be pipped at the post so we had a rather crazy sprint to the finish. In a pointless display of effort I won the sprint but ultimately lost a few minutes to George because he had started ten minutes after me. It was a bit of fun though! George finished as third gent in the rankings!

At the end I was very tired, but I couldn’t believe how well the day had gone. I was one of the fastest for the day, and really enjoyed myself which is utterly bonkers considering I had now run about 230 miles in 7 days! I was also rewarded by being the first into the showers. The only hot shower during the entire epic adventure!

Day 8 – Fighting through to the finish

Day 8 was a short one, but it is far from easy. All the hills are in the second half and that section is also pathless and rough until you are about a mile from the finish.

I was feeling competitive again, so had a cheeky look at the standings I had two guys within 7 minutes in front of me. I decided to do my utmost to claim those two places and get up to 14th overall. It was going to be a short but intense day!

I started fairly relaxed and took a couple of miles to warm up. At one point I saw a runner in front petting a Donkey and he was one of the guys I was trying to beat. A small child and his Mum asked if I would like some chocolate and to also pet the donkey. I politely declined. I would not be distracted from my race, no matter the temptation on hand! I would say I thundered on, but it was more like a medium speed zombie shuffle.

I was putting more and more effort in as I cruised down the hill to the beautiful Sandwood Bay. I then put a lot of effort into taking short fast steps across the very long soft sandy beach. After the beach the rough hills began and I just kept pushing, overtaking runner after runner until one particularly steep hill. I saw someone behind me approaching fast. It was an Alasdair (there were several Als in the race!) and he was flying up this steep hill as if he was on an escalator. It was an epic bit of hill climbing. I could just see him as I crested the 230m summit, so I picked up my pace and started to chase him down over the rough heathery, but less steep, ground. I had almost caught him when we popped out onto the road with just over a mile to go. I have no idea how he did it, but he picked up the pace and vanished into the fog. I simply kept moving and before I knew it I was crossing the final finish line after 8 days of racing. I did the only sensible thing, went into the lighthouse and bought a beer!

That evening the camp was a beautiful site nestled in a glen next to a beautiful loch with mountains all around. I took a dip in the loch, and just chilled out around camp before we all congregated to watch the excellent race movies (available on Youtube!) and finally pickup my medal. What an amazing 8 days, particularly once I got my head around my physical state. It was initially very hard to accept that after 18 months of focused training my fitness had been undermined by a virus at the 11th hour, but the decision to continue proved to be absolutely worth it.

Oh, I got those two places by quite a significant margin. It felt great to be attacking again.