Simon Bray
I don’t normally (ever) write about any events I’ve done, but given the epic nature of the Cape Wrath Ultra challenge, and inspired by the reports so far from the front runners I thought I’d give it a go to give some balance from the back-of-the-pack.
“My journey into the Heart of Darkness” OR “Feet, Eat, Sleep, Repeat”
In the week preceding the event I jokingly commented that the “Heart of Darkness” book/film randomly came to mind whilst contemplating what an idiot I was for even entering Cape Wrath Ultra those seemingly countless months previously, but never has a truer word been spoken in jest.
Training had been hit and miss, like many others, with lack of motivation and the same boring flat running local to where I live near Derby during lock-down, and frustratingly picking up a hamstring injury in Feb 2021 whilst on a gentle jog back from my local village fishmonger (crab and cod if I remember rightly). My coach had increased intensity, volume and strength work in the lead-up and I think my body had just given up. So a good 4 weeks off before I was confident to start again, taking a couch to 5K approach over 3-4 weeks before being back at full volume, but now sticking to only low effort runs, and thankfully for me the May start was postponed; not wanting another 6 months of solo training over winter I opted for August if you hadn’t already guessed that.
Was I ready? Everyone will always say no, me included, but I’d stuck to the plan from my coach I’d hired specifically to get me to the finish line after the first date was postponed, so I was as ready as I could ever be. I’d driven up a few days before to allow for a more relaxing drive and to stretch my legs, staying in Moffat for one night followed by a couple of nights in Fort William (although the decision was also partly (or even mainly) because I wanted to take my ’74 Scimitar for a long road trip after finishing the restoration last year and to be honest I wasn’t fully confident it would make it without assistance from the AA; I was as equally worried about the event too, but the car made it faultlessly; looking back it was maybe an omen of my event too – initial nervous trepidation, steady cruising, bursts of speed, the occasional stop to refuel but no major breakdowns and a sigh of relief when I arrived. By the way, the trip back wasn’t so faultless, (though I hasten to add I’ve since discovered it was nothing to do with my car building skills). Anyway, this isn’t a classic car forum, so back to the running.
My coaching plan gave only top level guidance giving weekly mileage and elevation, I was happy to work the rest out myself; it was fairly low volume too as I’m old now and prone to niggles. The biggest weeks (2 of them overall) were ~70 miles, which I took as camping trips in the Lake District as 3 big back-to-back days to get some good mountain training which I can’t find in the Peak District. But I have to say, the bogs and moors of Kinder and Bleaklow served as an excellent training ground for the pathless sections on Cape Wrath Ultra. I noticed on those sections I was ‘relatively’ faster than others around me, perhaps a combination of strength and observational skills to efficiently navigate around bog trenches, but I must say thankfully the Cape Wrath Ultra moorland was exceptionally dry compared to the Dark Peak and the trenches were mere lumps compared to the 6 footers I’ve trained around.
As everyone had said, my coach included, “start slow”, no fear in that, I slotted into the back of the field at the start as part of a group getting to know each other as we trotted down the road under uncharacteristically sunny skies. Some of those from Day 1 would become good running companions and week-long nemesis for the rest of the tour (you know who you all are… I seriously don’t think I’d have finished without you, you were all an inspiration to push myself on, particularly in the later stages of where I found myself alone for hours on end and often in a chasm-like pit of misery and despair). At the end of Day 1 I felt worryingly bad, if I felt like this after a short day I was going to seriously struggle for the rest of the week, but I put it down to the high temperature and extended 4 week taper I’d given myself with very little running or elevation in that period, and hoped my body would adapt, thankfully it did.
The next few days had their usual ultra mood elevator swings, nothing I wasn’t used to. My pace was very closely matched with runner #2, Bee, except on the descents where she’d effortlessly float off into the distance until I’d gradually slog away to catch up over the next flattish section, so we wiled away the hours and first few days together, mostly in silence apart from me telling of the best joke in the world, which didn’t go down well.
I think it was day 2 (or 3) when I brought up cannibalism with my mountain climbing nemesis, Kirstine, the conversation didn’t last long, maybe it was too early in the week to bring it up, I wasn’t even that hungry.
Other’s blogs have described the terrain in more detail so I won’t repeat, but what I did find most tough to keep in check were the mood swings, these gradually became more compressed and more extreme from mid-day 5 through 7, like nothing I’d ever experienced before. I don’t know if it was the physical exertion, the achingly slow progress over relentless technical terrain, the loneliness (Bee had dropped out by now, through no fault of her own), or the sleep deprivation. I think it was on the second night, and the others to follow, where I really struggled to get any decent sleep through a combination of aching feet and muscles, one (thankfully) does of cramps on night 2, but most severely from horrendous night sweats, I was literally waking up at 1-2 am drenched in sweat and unable to get a comfortable temperature for another hour or 2. I’ve never had anything like that before, but speaking to people in camp I wasn’t alone and the main theories were either dehydration during the day so the body was sweating out toxins, or that it was part of the bodies healing process from the day’s exertions. Whatever it was, I didn’t like it and the fatigue each morning was becoming a drain, and my appetite at breakfast was waning so it was becoming an effort each morning to force down more boston beans washed down with at least 3 mugs of tea.
I honestly never thought I’d make it past day 3, I’m usually in the bottom 25% of finishers on ultras I’ve completed before, so with an expected drop-out rate of 40% I was fairly sure day 3 would see me DNF and become a non-competitive runner. But with great teamwork and stoic determination we finished with half an hour to spare, I was pretty happy with that, until it slowly dawned that I was actually going to have to try and finish this beast!
I think it was around day 6, after a few hours when I’d become detached from any other runners again that I noticed I was coming in and out of a dream-like state; I was aware of the feeling so it wasn’t worrying, but at times it was like moving without conscious thought, not effortless, but in the flow, like my body knew what to do, there was nothing else in the world but forward motion. I’ve read of peoples experiences like this but never experienced, it was quite a revelation, is this the runners high that people talk of but has always eluded me? I felt almost elated on sections of the day 6 track, it was runnable, good gradient, not too uneven and I found myself skipping along almost dancing around my poles, this was great, for now…, but wow, a real journey of exploration, what a roller coaster ride it was!!!
In case no one noticed, it rained at the end of day 6. A Lot! It was a bit scary descending the final gorge surrounded by torrents of water, character building apparently, or some other nonsense they’ll tell you!
Day 7 I’d rather forget, broke a pole on the first descent, quads were done from then onwards, the horrific underfoot conditions along the final loch was mentally and physically sapping, I’ve never felt more like stopping to lay down to sleep ever before!
Day 8 was never going to be easy, but I woke in an exuberant mood, and felt hungry for breakfast for the first time in days, this was it, I might just finish!! Today was just about getting the job done, grind out the last few miles, ‘pretend’ to try and beat Kirstine one last time (it didn’t happen, too many tough climbs for me), take in the views and look forward to the café beer. I loved the kids and family that set up the aid station on the road section, such a nice thing for them to do. On the final track (which I managed to jog most of) a minibus full was heading back down, I moved over but it stopped and it was sooo nice to get a big cheer from those that had finished, I took a quick swig of beer from one of their cans and set off again with the drivers bugling seemingly pushing me onward; never before or again has McEwans ever tasted like so much sweet nectar. And then it was over, the finish line approached, but no sign of the lighthouse in the dense mist. What. A. Relief.
I don’t think it’s fully sunk in yet what I achieved, it’s hard to comprehend looking back to where it all started with the hours of training and preparation. Shane described it as a privilege to be there, and it absolutely was, and an honour to run with you all and see first-hand how the fast kids do it during the inevitable over-taking early each day; oh how I wished I’d had their extra 30 hours in camp too to do my feet, eat, sleep and recover.
I keep randomly remembering little things, I’m sure that will continue for a while whilst I process and tease apart 8 of the most tortuous, adventurous, epic, amazing days of my life which at the moment have seemingly blended into one, sometimes feeling like aeons ago, other times like it was yesterday. I think that’s one of the best parts, and I’ll continue to regale (bore) my friends over a few pints for the weeks to come, milking them for adulation until it’s a distant memory… They keep telling me I’m amazing, maybe in time I’ll think that too and get rid of this imposter syndrome.
I owe a lot of thanks to so many, I couldn’t have done it without the support and camaraderie on course and in the camp from competitors and crew, always happy to help and support even when I was properly miserable, I felt a real sense of belonging; shout out to tent neighbour #64 who threw my kit into the tent after I’d laid it all to dry whilst I went to wash before the inevitable pissing rain started; the messages from all my followers, friends and family, what a fantastic invention Ultra Mail™ is, they really meant so much at the end of a tough day, more than on any other event I’ve done; and finally I need to make a particular shout out to #2 for being omnipresent with your never ending positivity the first few days, you were my navigator (even though you did make us wade across a river when there was a perfectly good bridge 100 yards away), guide, and translator, but thankfully I can now go back to calling a lake and lake; you showed all the qualities to be able to complete Cape Wrath Ultra and I’m massively proud to have been there to celebrate not just your first ultra but your first multi day ultra too, now get yourself entered for 2022!!
…and I never did manage to wrestle the ball away to throw for the checkpoint dog…
…and to the big beardy chap who stands around all day drinking tea, not doing any work (the words of a previous crew member, not mine, but the description was spot on), I had no intention of spiking your tea, that would have been sacrilege… you should make a complaint to Jackie for even suggesting it to me!
My advice:
Enter, just do it, worry about the training after
Be efficient in camp, know what you’re going to do, and do it before you eat
Take more waterproof bags than you think you need
Take more socks than you think you need
Best bit of kit – a shoehorn!
Second best bit of kit – laminated day cards showing distances, elevations, route profile and target pacing
Take a variety of hill food to avoid getting bored (mine consisted of a variety of different flavoured nuts, biltong, Veloforte bars, Awesome bars, mini malt loaf, flapjack, salt tabs (I only drank plain water), and lemon sherbets)
Simon reaches the finish line at Cape Wrath! ©All photos: Bib Number photography