My journey to the Cape Wrath Ultra (CWU) started 2 years before I toed the start line on the shores of Loch Linnhe.  Scottish, but living in Ireland since 2004, I had never experienced a longing for my motherland as I did during the Covid-19 pandemic.  When I first viewed the CWU website I was mesmerised by the scope of the event.  A little part of my brain lit up at the possibility of racing across the remotest Scottish Highlands. I nudged my husband and said, "Saddle up hombre, Scotland is calling".

It was an easy sell – my other half, Dave Barry, is an adventure-loving enthusiast so there was no hesitation.  He sorted out the technology (watches, GPS maps, head-torches) and I went into full expedition planning with my head in the spreadsheet organising travel logistics, kit and food.  This was my first multi-day event and I really enjoyed practising navigation skills, learning techniques for taping feet, and researching methods for safe river crossings - little did I know how important the latter would be.

My training didn't go as well as I would have hoped (does it ever?) but I knew I had done enough. I'm strong willed and would only call on my duo of superpowers, "Grit & Tenacity", if absolutely necessary. Little did I know how early I would need to make that call or that I would need to keep the line open for so much of the journey. The weather conditions were biblical at times. All we were missing was the swarm of locusts....but I guess we had the midges. My hat goes off to Shane and the event team who provided evening weather briefings, "more rain forecast", and performed rigorous mandatory kit checks each morning.

On the surface, Ultra Running is a solo sport but in events of this magnitude it's not possible to succeed without others in your corner. The sense of camaraderie between competitors and event team alike is what made CWU so special. There was so much shared laughter as we climbed the hills and traversed the bogs and heathery tussocks. We worked together to successfully ford the many rivers. Heads were scratched in unison to find a solution when a piece of kit failed and we cried tears of joy, or was that exhaustion, when we made it through another day. I also cried tears for those who didn't get to wear a finishers medal. There were 270 starters and each one has a story to tell. I would love to get 10 minutes with each person and hear their story. Memories were created which will last a lifetime and I'll always fondly remember.... Johnny & Jules serving Boston Baked Beans with their endearing charisma, Steven's caring approach when we returned to camp, Tammy's generous serving of chips after a long arduous day, Tania & Andy's unwavering resilience, Gary imparting his knowledge gained over many successful events and helping me along the way and last but not least Charles, Matthijs and Menno's sense of humour - I can't wait for the publication of "50 Shades of Bog"!

I always appreciated the formidable landscapes I was travelling through, even when the weather was hitting me sideways in the face with freezing hailstones. I also enjoyed listening to the birds and I have one question in that regard, was it just me or was that Cuckoo bird following us from Fort William to Cape Wrath? I tip my hat to the unsung heroes who made this 8-day journey even possible. The camp I left each morning was recreated, as if by magic, at each day’s end.

I've never felt such a joy of achievement as I did coming across Sandwood Bay and then finally up the path to the Lighthouse. I was bursting with pride when I found out that Dave finished in 3rd place. What a result! Later that afternoon, as I travelled onwards across the water to Durness, I glowed with a happiness and a deep sense of fulfilment. The Cape Wrath Ultra almost broke me...but it didn't know I had superpowers.