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[peterwrightblog]

Western States 100-Mile Endurance Run 2017

Competing in the Western States had been an ambition since I took up long distance running in 2012. It had first appeared on my radar when a few friends were running specific events in the UK, purely because they were Western States qualifiers.

One particular day In 2016 I was debating over what races I would like to enter in 2017. I decided to check out the Western States website and specifically the qualifying races. I quickly found out that the Lakeland 100, which I had completed in 2015 and 2016, was a qualifying race and I decided to enter the lottery and begin the process. I realized, with one ticket, I would have little or no chance of qualifying, and very much viewed this as the start of a long term plan to secure entry. For the Western States you ultimately acquire more tickets in the lottery over the years, so long as you keep completing a qualifying event. This, in theory, improves your odds of securing a place through the lottery.

The rest is history and to my disbelief I found out in early December 2016 that I had secured a place in the 44th 2017 Western States 100-mile endurance run. I couldn’t believe my luck. Training was effectively already underway since I was shortly due to compete in the Montane Spine Challenger. It would just be a case of maintaining the momentum from that point.

The Western States is the world’s oldest 100-mile trail race, starting at Squaw Valley, California, and ending 100.2 miles later in Auburn, California. Following the historic Western States trail runners will need to ascend 18,000 feet and descend nearly 23,000 feet before they reach the finish line at Placer High School in Auburn.

This was going to be a tough tough race, and my ultimate goal was simply to achieve a sub-30 hour finish. I am not great in the heat, and knew there were going to be many variables in securing the finish within 30 hours. I studied the profile, to include specific ascent and descent, and drafted a pacing plan which estimated a 27 hour finish. I felt, if all went well, this could be realistic, and could even be exceeded. Then again, if there were problems, it could go the other way. Time would tell...

After arriving in the USA on the Tuesday and spending the day chilling in San Francisco on the Wednesday, Mike (My crew and pacer) and I began our drive to Squaw Valley on the Thursday.

I had only met Mike in person for the first time on my arrival at the airport, and we had plenty of running stories to exchange.

On route to Squaw, we had time to stop in Auburn and check out the finish at Placer High School as will as Robie Point and Foresthill. It was useful familiarizing myself with some of the landmarks I would be running through on race day.

The following day was also spent at Squaw Valley, and involved the usual race registration, deposit of drop bags and pre-race briefing.

I have plenty of ultra race experience, but I was very nervous about this one and could not shake that in the days leading up to the race. It was, however, a good thing in my mind since it helped me focus on just how badly I wanted that buckle.

The main reason I was nervous was the heat, which was forecast to be in the 90’s and 100’s. Sure, I had experience of the Sahara desert and Amazon Jungle, but they were multi-day events and it had taken me a couple of days to acclimatize for each one.

 In addition, I had never really adapted to USA time, and was waking up at 3am each morning since arrival. I figured this would be perfect for race morning, but the reality was that I wasn’t getting enough quality sleep pre-race. Also, the nights sleep before the race did not go to plan and I developed an intense headache (probably nerves). After succumbing to a strong painkiller, I managed to get 3.5 hours sleep, and awoke just after 3am.

All my kit was prepped, so it was just a case of showering, having breakfast and getting to the start line to collect my race number. I managed a video call with Rachel just before leaving, and was very stressed and nervous. I could see my panic stricken face just before the WhatsApp call connected and it was quite amusing, although didn’t really feel it at the time.

Collecting the race number put me at ease, so I decided to dash back to the hotel room and have a more relaxing call with Rachel. This helped me shake a few nerves and I headed back to the start line.

 Mike was there to meet me and provide me with some motivational words. He then took up position to record the race start, and that left me eagerly awaiting the countdown, whilst having a good catch-up with fellow UK competitor, Tremayne Cowdry.

 In Western States tradition, the shotgun signaled the start of the race and we were off. I knew there was a good solid 2,400 feet of ascent, but this was over good trail. I relaxed my body, and pushed forward with a steady power walk on the ups, whilst running the flats. It was interesting observing the different sized packs, and general attire of the competitors. Some were shirtless carrying a couple of handhelds, whilst others were fully kitted with 10L packs.

The initial 1,800 feet climb on trail was comfortable and I was pleased with the start. However, and as I expected, we hit the snow at 1,800 feet and needed to completed the rest of the ascent on this terrain. It was tricky, and required much physical effort early on, but the best tactic was to use others footprints and conserve what energy I could. This was going to be a long day after all.

I moved forward enjoying the scenes and tranquility around me and before long reached Watsons Monument, which is where we would begin our descent. This was also to be on snow and was proving to be very technical. The trainers I had chosen (New Balance Leadville) were decent enough on trails, but I was still slipping very often. I was mindful of an early injury and was leaning forward and basically trying to foot ski the slope, but occasionally it was easier to control the descent by simple using my nice padded backside. This worked for me, and was also good fun.

 After a careful and slow technical run, the snow gave way to trail and mud, which introduced a new dilemma. I noticed many competitors making great efforts to dance around the puddles. However, I knew there was no avoiding a foot soaking at this stage, or any other in fact, so decided to just run through the middle. I knew my Leadville’s would flush out easy enough, and also knew it was likely the feet would suffer later on. However, the feet are always going to hurt one way or another on this distance, so I figured I’d deal with that later on.

 After the CP at Red star there was significantly less mud and snow, and there was now a good trail to follow. It was a long steady run, full of switchbacks, and was made much more challenging by the rapidly increasing temperatures. It was now 9am and I had been taking salt tablets without fail on the hour and keeping a steady fluid intake. However, I was sweating a great deal, which is generally the case, and I was already feeling hamstring stiffness and cramping. Also, my fluid intake since the previous checkpoint had been exceptionally high and I knew I was going to run out of water before Duncan Canyon so I had to ration myself for the final hour before reaching the checkpoint.

I had given Mike a target time for Duncan Canyon of 10:20am, and early in the race had actually felt I was running well and was going to exceed this target. However, the snow and mud had taken its toll and I ended up coming into Duncan Canyon, and the 23-mile mark over an hour after my planned time at around 11:30am and concerningly close to the cut offs. I was dismayed, and couldn’t reconcile it in my head, since I knew there were many competitors behind me. Already, this did not feel like a race that a high percentage would finish.

On entering Duncan Canyon, I must have looked a bit of a mess. The game plan was certainly not to feel like shit at mile 23, with 77 to go. Mike was first class and managed the transition as planned. It felt like a F1 pit stop, but he shoved an ice packed buff around my neck, filled my cooling sleeves with ice and refilled my soft flasks. He also gave me a sandwich bag of frozen fruit, which looked perfect, before kicking my sorry ass out of the CP. In truth, I left very deflated, purely because of how close I was to the cut off, and could not immediately muster any energy to run. However, the ice was going to work quickly and I found my self picking up a very good power walking pace and steadily overtaking others on route.

Unfortunately, I then started cramping on both hamstrings, so I decided to stop in the shade, and continue to make efforts to get my core temperature down, whilst having a quick look at the profile and my target times. This actually was an inspired move, and I noticed that after the next CP at Robinson’s flat the race profile looked easier and could present myself with an opportunity to settle things down. I knew the terrain would be dry, and my game plan was to get into Robinson’s Flat with my body in check, and then focus on making up time.

I utilized the miles to Robinsons Flat taking in increased electrolytes and salt tablets, whilst taking an energy gel on board. I was also able to take a good toilet break, and this gave me the assurance I was managing my hydration well.

Mike’s neck buff packed with ice (aka the secret weapon) was still going strong, so I quickly topped up my sleeves with ice and ran out of Robinsons. I had lost the stiffness and the cramps, and was adopting a well-used tactic of running in the sun, and occasionally walking in the shade. I entered Robinsons Flat and Miller’s Defeat feeling good and exchanging banter with the crew, whilst being buoyed by the fact I was moving ahead of cutoffs.

Also, the the crew were telling me that the course was as good as it got for the next few miles ahead, so I knew this was a golden opportunity to make these miles count.

I find, with 100-milers, that it is all about banking time ahead of cut-offs whilst you can since there is always an unexpected issue later on that can bite you in the backside.

After what felt like some respectable efficient miles, I reached Dusty Corners feeling in very good shape. This was mile 38, and would be the second time I would see Mike. I think he could see the difference and it was encouraging that I had put myself in a much better place in respect of cut offs. I met Ed Liu and Ken Reicher for the first time that day. Really nice guys and they were both giving words of encouragement, which helped maintain my good spirits a great deal. I felt proud of myself for the comeback, and for not letting the predicament get in my head too much at Duncan Canyon. Since everything felt good, I didn’t want to hang around too long at the checkpoint, but was also mindful that it was important not to get carried away and to take adequate time to reapply the cooling system ((neck and sleeves), get some food down, and also head out with the right mix of water and electrolytes. Mike had the checkpoint system nailed. He’s an experienced runner and very methodical and organized, and knew exactly what I needed. I ran out of there feeling upbeat and knowing I had kind terrain ahead to Last Chance and the opportunity to make up some more time.

 Last Chance checkpoint was good fun. I once again entered in good spirits, and got chatting to one of the volunteers, who told me she used to live in Northampton in the UK. She filled me with confidence, telling me how great I was doing and that I could be on for a 24. In my heart of hearts, I knew there was a very difficult section approaching and this would be highly unlikely, but it was great for the mojo. The crew at the cooling station, who I’d like to add were brilliant at all checkpoints, seemed to quite like giving the Brit a good soaking, and I was playing up to the attention quite a lot. Again, I ran out of the Checkpoint on route to Devil’s Thumb. All that stood between me and mile 48 was a 2,000-foot descent into the canyon and a rather steep 2,000 feet climb back out again.

The descent was very energy sapping, with constant switchbacks and it just went on and on. We were also under a canopy of trees, which basically added humidity to the already ‘bloody hot’ equation. This, I found, was very similar to the conditions I had dealt with in the Amazon, Brazil, in the 2015 Jungle Marathon. Anticipating this section, I had taken a little treat from Last chance (a whole banana) and what really kept me going was the thought of a nice dip in the creek, followed by an injection of banana energy, before attempting the climb back up. This I did, and took the necessary time in the creek along with a couple of fellow competitors. I left the creek, legs refreshed and energized. I was very well trained on the climbs so kept a steady striding rhythm, but it was very tough. I passed many people doubled over, some being sick. I could understand this, since I was starting to feel light headed myself.  I offered support along the way, but was always given the thumbs up. I guess everyone has their way of dealing with the climbs, and hurling is as good as any.

After what felt like 45 minutes being slowly roasted alive I reached Devil’s Thumb, and just had to take 10 minutes to cool down, and try to eat. I actually felt very dizzy on reaching the top, which was unsurprising given the conditions. We were also provided with an ice popsicle, which I promptly dropped in the dirt. However, a dirt flavored cold popsicle was not something to passed up, so I polished that off without fuss. Hopefully the bugs within would contain some slow release energy for the next section.

I sat at Devil’s Thumb mentally preparing myself for the next part. This involved a long descent into El Dorado Creek, again dealing with the heat and humidity. This time the descent was more gradual, but seemed even more endless than the previous one. It ultimately took us 2,600 feet down to the creek. At this stage, I felt fresh enough in my legs and good on my feet, but I was very mindful of keeping my core body temperature in check, as well as regularly taking my salts and electrolytes. As mentioned, the descent was endless and the creek did not appear to be getting any closer. I tried to switch off, and just tried to visualize laying in the creek and this thought kept my limbs moving ever closer to the goal. Upon reaching the checkpoint at El Dorado Creek, I headed straight for the cool water and submerged. I just laid on my back in the creek, staring up at the sky, and took a moment to listen to the sounds around me. It was a beautiful moment of the race for me and was providing me the positive energy and state of mind to tackle the forthcoming ascent.

Upon leaving, one of the checkpoint crew told me this climb, even though 1,800 feet, was not as steep and there would actually be runnable parts. Again, I can’t stress how brilliant all the volunteers were, and this bulletin was really positive news to me, so I left with my customary bag of fruit and began my power walk with purpose onwards to Michigan Buff.

This was to be mile 56, and would provide my third opportunity for me to catch up with Mike.

Running into Michigan Buff was just electric. There was a large crowd, loud cheers and the general atmosphere was a huge lift. There was still 44 miles to go, but in my mind I’d dealt with the heat, I was well hydrated and time was on my side. The legs were feeling significantly more worked than at Last Chance, and it was an early sign that the back creeks had taken their toll.

As usual, Mike got to work and provided everything I would need. I knew it was around 6 miles to Foresthill, and I thought I would be able to hammer that out before it got dark. I told Mike I’d grab my head torch at Foresthill and would see him there shortly.

I left Michigan Buff running and did so for the next mile or so. However, it was getting dark very quickly, I was entering a forest, and it was very evident it would be dark long before I could get to the next checkpoint. One fellow runner and his pacer allowed me to run between them and share their light, and I was hugely grateful. I had sat with this guy in two of the creeks, and was ultimately very pleased to see he completed this race. Unfortunately, I can’t recall his name. This tactic worked until a pacer friend of Mike’s, Kirsten, lent me a hand torch, which enabled me to move forward independently.

Strangely, the darkness and working with torchlight was an unexpected turning point for me. The physical exertions of the last 15 hours or so had clearly taken their toll as well as the general lack of sleep in the run up to the event. As soon as darkness descended, I became very tired, both physically and mentally. I slowed down to an ungainly shuffling pace coming into Foresthill and in the space of 4 miles I had transformed from a man with a spring in his step to a lumbering, very old, wilder beast.

I debated in my head on the approach over what to change, if anything, at Foresthill.

My feet were now very sore, on account of the fact they were constantly getting wet. However, I saw little value in foot care at this point, and just figured I would need to suffer these experienced trotters and resort to painkillers as and when required. Mentally, I’d dealt with these scenarios at Ultra Trail Du Mont Blanc and Lakeland 100, so I knew I could deal with it and get through it.

All I decided to to was to put a clean top on. In hindsight, I should have kept the other top on since the smell of me was actually keeping myself awake.

Mike said he would run me out of Foresthill onto the trail, but when we reached the trail and started to run I was basically stumbling and tripping at any given opportunity. I was so very tired and was really struggling with communications from my brain to my feet. Mike could see I was in trouble and just encouraged me slow right down and to follow his lead with a steady hike. Mike was also busy talking on his mobile, making arrangements, and to be honest I was dreading the point where he would turn around and head back to Foresthill to get the car. Our pre race plan was for him to pace me from mile 80, so I knew he would need to head back very soon.

To my surprise, he stayed with me all the way to CAL1, and then surprised me even more by saying he’d sorted logistics and would now see me in to the finish. I was absolutely ecstatic, even Though I probably didn’t show it through my baggy, tired face. It was a typical selfless gesture of a guy who had already pulled out all the stops to ensure I would finish this race, and have a good time whilst doing so. Furthermore, he had been awake as long as me and it was an incredible gesture to run the final 40 miles with me.

We slowly power hiked trough the night onwards to Rucky Chucky. CAL2 and CAL3 came and went and it was slow, dark blur for me to be honest. I was deeply frustrated that I could not pick up the pace, since the terrain and profile was actually very decent.  Even though it was dark, it still felt very hot and muggy and I just could not shake the tiredness. The best tactic, and I knew it, was to try and maintain 15-minute miles. To attempt anything else at this stage would have no doubt resulted in a fall or an ankle twist, and would have made the race more difficult than it was proving to be.

I had read many blogs about this race, and each one contained a chapter where the wheels well and truly fell off. Well, I was now living out my own version, and it would last the evening.

 The night was slow, but we eventually reached Rucky Chucky. By now, I was trying to run, but each step felt like running on broken glass. However, sore feet and tiredness were not going to be a reason for a DNF. No chance of that.

Strangely, I thought back to a motivational line my good mate, Steve Hayes, had spoken to me in a race called ‘Escape from Meriden’ the previous year. His exact words were ‘Stop being a pussy’, so I decided not to be.

Also, and this is something I reflected on often, my odds on getting into this race were long. One ticket in the lottery for 2017, and I’m in. From mile 62, there were many occasions where I was simply telling myself just how lucky I was, to deal with it, and get it done.

Rucky Chucky was a quick checkpoint, and within 5 minutes we were being rowed across the river. Getting in and out with lead legs was a comedy affair, but it was nice to take the load off for in the boat for a minute or so. Upon reaching the other side we were faced with a 25-30-minute climb to Green Gate. It was a steady climb, over good terrain, and I was about to reach mile 80. I was still very much in control of this race, and was very much looking forward to sunrise, and what I hoped would bring a new lease of life.

At Green Gate, I once again started thinking tactically. The next 10-11 miles looked like a good opportunity to try and pick up the pace, and would be divided into two 5 mile sections. The feet were in a bad way, and that would not change now, but I needed to get them used to running again. Mike took the lead and we would continue on a steady fast hike and run where possible.

The first section to Auburn Lake trails was more difficult with a few climbs, and the following section to Quarry Road was much kinder. Small climbs were starting to feel mountainous on tired limbs and sore feet. However, around 5:30am and shortly before Auburn Lake trails daylight came and did indeed allow me to turn the head torch off. I found that the fog of tiredness that had been clinging to me for the last 6 hours was quickly disappearing, and now running was becoming more frequent.

I dread to think what my running actually looked like, but it felt good to me moving relatively quickly again.

The run to Quarry road was the fastest I had moved since mile 60, and the tide was turning at just the right time.

Mike was expertly dictating the pace, and keeping the pressure on me to run as much as possible. He knew I was in pain, but then again you’re always going to be 91 miles into a 100-mile race.

However, he recognized when to get me running and when to encourage slowdown.

This guy was truly my Guardian angel for this Western States.

It was at this point I took my first and only painkiller, since the feet were starting to hit a new level in the pain locker.

Reaching Quarry Road was a monumental moment for me, and I knew I had done it. It was 7:20am and I had 3 hours 40 minutes to carve out just over 9 miles. So, at Quarry road, I had a celebratory toilet stop, a private wobbly lip moment, and saddled up or the next stint.

 The next 3.5 miles to Pointed Rocks was expectedly tough, given that it was mostly ascending and the California heat was rising fast. The pace was not quick, but quick enough to keep me on target for a sub 30 finish. At this stage I was reflecting that I had managed the race well, and had also given everything I possibly could. I’d put myself in a position where I could finish this at walking pace if I wanted to. However, it was a running race and I was still determined to get as much running action in where I possibly could. However, this section was not to see that particular action, and I felt like I was going to combust as I entered Pointed Rocks.

I had a quick chat with Mike about the route, and he told me it was all downhill to No Hands Bridge. Therefore, I took the time necessary to cool down and get ready for a good penultimate section. Sure enough, Mike and I moved swiftly through to No Hands Bridge. On entering No Hands, a fellow competitor looked like he was in trouble and he was struggling to stay on his feet. He had to wave away support, because you are effectively disqualified if you are physically aided or supported. I am pleased to say this guy was able to finish the race, and I am full of admiration for him, as I am for all who competed in this race.

Fortunately, I had no such dramas at No Hands, and we moved quickly on to Robie Point.

On the drive up to Squaw on the Thursday, Mike had taken me to the finish and to mile 99 so I could visualize everything. This was indeed a good tactic and I could just imagine that sign at mile 99, and I was looking forward to reaching it knowing it was a mile downhill from there.

The climb to Robie point was fine by me, since I knew it was the last climb of a day that consisted of many. That always makes matters easier, and you can find those hidden energy reserves from somewhere.

The cheers at Robie Point were something else, and resulted in a secondary wobbly lip moment for me.

I reflect on many things before the end of races, and this had truly been an epic. I had literally given everything both physically and mentally.  What had made this event more special was the support and encouragement I had received throughout, and from Mike in particular. I truly hope I can repay the favour one day.

To elaborate, Mike had been posting Facebook updates and videos throughout the day, and had allowed my family and close friends to be part of the race with me. I knew throughout that he was doing this and it really did help.

Sure enough, I had my picture taken at the mile 99 sign and then began my descent to Placer High School.

Mike recorded the final mile, and it was a rollercoaster of cheers, high fives and general goodwill. I was offered a beer, with Mike collected on my behalf and ultimately looked after till the finish.

I truly wanted to run all of the final mile, but had to walk occasionally to compose myself more than anything. About 500 metres from the Placer High School Craig Thornley, the Race Director with an amazing eight and soon to be nine finishes, ran past me. This seemed like a good point for me to slow down, walk and get in the myself in the zone to finish strong.

After a minute I began the run to the athletics track at Placer High School. Entering the stadium was spine tingling. Mike was continuing to record my every move screaming encouragement at me. I felt in dreamland, and the energy from the stadium literally carried me around the track.

Mike encouraged me to move to the middle land (for the cameras) and I crossed the line with arms held aloft on 29:13.

First thought was to seek out the guy who had put so much into my race, and had acted as the best support and friend for the entire journey. We’d done it and I was ecstatic.

Post race, I reflect on the Western States as the ultimate race and one of the best endurance experiences of my life. It receives many plaudits, and rightly so. The event is magical, made more so by the never ending support, kindness and friendship offered throughout by all involved in the race.

Thank you for an experience of a lifetime.

[peterwrightblog]

Cape Wrath Ultra 2016

Background

I’d heard about the Cape Wrath Ultra event a couple of years before, and had decided early on that I would register for the first edition. The thought of running this trail, in one of the most beautiful places in the world was simply an opportunity that I was not going to let pass by.

The event itself is a 400km, 8 day run from Fort William to Cape Wrath. Throughout the route there would be 11,200m of ascent to contend with. In terms of terrain, it is 12% road and 88% track. These tracks are double, single or trackless.

Also, I was familiar with the way Shane Ohly organises his races, since I had experience of completing day 1 of Dragon’s Back in 2015. I DNF’d that one, but I had at least experienced life on camp for one day and knew that personal organization, navigational awareness, sufficient training and sensible kit choices would be crucial. This is something I would take into Cape Wrath, and not take lightly.

The Build-Up

Friday-Saturday

After a final week of deliberating over kit decisions, I finally escaped work for a Friday afternoon flight from Jersey to Glasgow via Southampton. I had a few hours spare in Southampton and chilled out with my good mate and fellow competitor, Jon Gittins. Jon and I had met a couple of years before when we completed the Polar Circle Marathon. Jon was keen to experience a multi day event and we were both buzzing in anticipation. After some time chilling with Jon’s family and a decent meal in the airport bar we boarded our Glasgow bound flight and spent the evening at the Holiday Express at Glasgow Airport.

The following morning was largely spent sat on a very slow train as we faced a lengthy journey to Fort William. We had the pleasure of meeting Kirsten, from Denmark, and spent the hours chatting about our various running challenges and future aspirations.

After arriving at Fort William, we quickly checked into the hotel, and then headed off to register at HQ. Given that it was now mid afternoon, we were among the final competitors to register and this meant for a very desirable ‘non queuing’ experience. The team were extremely organised and it took us no time at all to pass through all the checks and briefings. The final stage in the process, was to have our pictures taken, from various angles, by the highly talented Ian Corless. Mine resulted in me looking slightly evil, which my mates back home were keen to remind me of in my final dose of social media before the event.

Early evening, we attended the formal briefing and it was there that I a saw a familiar face, being Gwyn Stokes. Last time I had seen Gwyn was in the back of a van looking slightly less healthy after we had both withdrawn from the Spine race. I was optimistic that the Cape Wrath experience would be slightly different, being that my fitness levels were much better and the weather would hopefully not be as apocalyptic. The briefing concluded, and the main takeaway for me was that I seemed to know all the likely side effects of tick bites. It was now time to head back to the hotel, eat and relax.

Sleep came fairly easily that night.

The Race Begins

Sunday – Day 1, Fort William to Genfinnan, Distance 37km, Height Gain 500m

Well rested, Jon and I headed to HQ to pick up our trackers and deposit our drop bags for camp at Glenfinnan. The bags were weighed, and a few of the competitors got caught out when their bags came in over the allowance. In this case, food had to be unloaded and fairly quickly.

Everyone then took a leisurely walk through town towards the ferry, and subsequently enjoyed a calm crossing across Loch Linnhe. Once over the other side we were greeted by a bagpiper, which really created a feel good atmosphere. The walk to the start line from there was a short one, and we then had 30 minutes at the start line to chill out, drink tea/coffee, eat biscuits and get the team photos sorted out. The start was now very imminent.

The race began with a 10km road stretch along the shores of Loch Linnhe. I wanted to ease into the event so decided a steady jog would be sufficient here. The objective today was to finish feeling as fresh as possible, and avoid the temptation of going crazy. There was a good vibe amongst all of the competitors, and this early stage knew I was amongst a very sound bunch of people. Its always fun early on in events people watching and I remember coming across a guy who I thought had entered the wrong event on account of his rucksack size (approx. 15kg+). This guy was called Frank Tschope, and as it turned out he was carrying all of his heavy photography equipment and would do so for the entire event. Dedicated to his profession, this guy proved to be an absolute legend for getting some amazing shots for his portfolio, whilst ultimately completing the event in a very respectable time.

After the 10km road introduction came some equally runnable double track which ran westbound towards Conor Glen. It was the first experience of some absolutely stunning scenery and its safe to say I was loving it. The weather was slightly hit and miss with dark clouds forming and occasional showers, but the temperatures felt warm enough. On this basis, I decided to leave the rain jacket packed away and this proved to be a good decision.

The double tracks eventually gave way to more challenging terrain in the form of wet and muddy paths by Sgor Craobb. Today I had decided to test the waters with my New Balance Leadville’s, which are a comfy ride on trails. However, these were proving to be difficult in the wet conditions and I had several stumbles, slippages and eventual falls on my backside. I knew I would be switching to the Salomon’s for the subsequent days.

The day finished with a very nice run descending into Glenfinnan and camp for the day. The camp was located near the ‘Harry Potter’ viaduct, so I made sure a few pictures were taken to share with my little boy, Josh, who is mad on the films.

I spent the remainder of the day chatting to various people around camp, and eating as many chips as I could. It was good to meet my tent mates for the week, who were a great bunch of guys. Even more of a bonus as it turns out was that no one snored.

I remember one of the final moments, before I slept, was looking at the map and analyzing how far we’d gone in relation to the whole route. It then really hit home in relation to what I had let myself in for. This was going to be a challenge and adventure of a lifetime.

Monday – Day 2,  Glenfinnan to Kinloch Hourn, Distance 57km, Height Gain 1,800m

Today would be the same as the next seven mornings, and it would start of with a breakfast for champions. That is baked beans, egg and bread. I’ve always been a baked bean addict, but this event has severely tested that addiction. I really hope it hasn’t made me kick the habit.

That morning, before setting off, I noticed that my tent mate, Lee Walker, was looking underprepared. He told me that he had Plantar Fasciitis and that that his race was over. I was desperately disappointed for him and suspected that I would not be seeing him after today.

I made the decision to get started around 7am and joined the queue. After the mandatory and random daily kit check, just before we deposited our drop bags, we collected our trackers and received a short briefing from Shane about the route ahead. This would be fairly standard procedure for each day of the race.

I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I felt quite heavy legged from the start but soon managed to get into a steady running pattern upon leaving Glenfinnan. Today was ultimately to prove very tough, and to be honest it was a great deal harder than I thought it would be given we were so early in the event. Of all the days, this is the one I remember the least in terms of detail and how the day played out.

What I can recall was that it was more remote and less trodden on many parts of the route. It was very strength sapping in terms of the terrain, and there were plenty of short and sharp climbs throughout and the temperatures were higher than the previous day. Back in October, when in the Amazon Jungle, I’d badly damaged a tendon and all the sinking and twisting was playing havoc. That twisting and turning was pretty standard during this event, so I guess it was just a case of the body getting used to it.

A couple of hours is I did receive pleasant surprise. Lee Walker, mentioned above, came running past with a massive grin on his face. As it turned out he’d had a chat with Marcus Scotney before the race and Marcus had applied kinesio tape to relieve the pressure and pain. Lee was running well and I was delighted for him. This also epitomised the sort of guy that Marcus, the eventual event winner, is. Whenever I saw him run past me, which was early on each day, he would always be smiling and given encouragement. When in camp, he’d be the same and always at hand to give others advice and help.

My memory of this day becomes even more clearer as we approached CP2 as Jon and I trudged across the Carnach Estuary. I was sinking all over the place, and no doubt giving Stu Smith a right old laugh as I approached the checkpoint. Stu made a comment that I looked like I was struggling, which was not an understatement.

Beyond checkpoint 2 everything began to get slightly easier and we had a period of respite as we travelled alongside the river Carnach. I was keeping a good eye on the map, and knew that we needed to look out for, what can only be described as a bastard of a climb, at a turning point on the river. Finding our way up there, to ultimately meet another path, proved more difficult than I imagined and I was absolutely blowing out of my backside as I lumbered up. The legs were really not working today. There were some dark thoughts entering my head during this point about whether I really had it in me to complete this event given how I was feeling on this particular day. However, the other voice just told me not to overthink it and just look around and take comfort in the surroundings. I decided to pay more attention to that voice.

Jon and I finished this day in around 12 hours, and to be honest it had taken me longer than I had wanted. I also felt more beaten up than I though I would, which was not the plan with an even longer day to follow the next day. However, it was good to get back in the tent and chat with the other guys about the days events and how they had unfolded. Mick Cooper, was a complete Gentleman and really looked after me when I got in that day and was on hand to bring me a heavenly cup of tea or two, when I was feeling quite low. Such gestures mean a lot, and there were plenty of people like Mick amongst the Cape Wrath family.

Tuesday – Day 3, Kinloch Hourn to Achnashelloch, Distance 68km, Height Gain 2,400m

I hadn’t slept at all well the previous night, and I didn’t know why. It had taken a while to settle down and the legs felt like they had been in the wars.

Jon and I started off at a decent pace though, and made a steady climb over Bealach Coire Malagain by the Saddle. It was during this climb that we met one of our companions for the day, Scott Clarke. Scott led the charge on the descent to Kintail Morvichthe and it was full of ankle twisting tussocks and boggy ground. Despite this, the legs were reacting pretty well and I was feeling a lot better about life today. Scott also mentioned that there was potentially a place to grab a coke before or after CP1, so that gave me a monumental lift.

Sure enough, and just beyond CP1, we found a small restaurant and Scott treated us all to a coke. Absolute heaven in a can, and it lifted everyone’s spirits immediately. We then carried on along a road for a short time, before once again hitting some mixed terrain.

We were now part of a group of six or seven, and were heading inland to pass the falls of Ghlomaich. As we made our way to the descent we arrived at the edge of a gorge and cleverly worked out the subsequent plummet was not the route. That resulted in a short stop to admire the beauty of the falls, and do get some much needed food in. What better place than to do it than here. Soon enough we were on our way in convoy and began our correct descent to Loch Leitreach and ultimately onto much kinder terrain and CP2 at Carnach. Tiredness was really creeping in for me now, but I was in good spirits and absolutely loving this event. I was absolutely gutted to come across one of my tent mates, Lee, at CP2 who hadn’t been able to keep food down and therefore had to withdraw on this day. However, he did carry on after this day and I never saw him without a smile on his face. There were many people like him on this event, and I admired each of them for their spirit and attitude.

Beyond CP2 we continued in a small group and came across Simon Hodson, who as it turned out was having a tough old day. He’d started off well enough, but it seemed an old injury was coming back to haunt him. Scott, at this point was also in a lot of pain also with his feet, and did his best at some DIY repairs as we trudged along. The magnitude of today, in addition to the previous day, was starting to sink in as we once again hit rougher ground after Loch Cruoshie. This part was quite fun and involved jumping over bogs and puddles, combined with the randomness of not knowing if you were going to sink to your waste or not.

After what seemed like an eternity, and the longest 2km ever, we were at the wire bridge, but I’d really been looking forward to. Beyond this bridge was a nice runnable trail alongside a stunning and picturesque loch. The last few miles, for me, summarized what was so brilliant about this event. The terrain was unpredictable and therefore not boring, and you were never far away from natural beauty. It was on this trail that Scott and I power walked ahead and eventually broke into a good run. This was really getting the legs back to life again. Jon and Simon were slightly behind, but Jon would soon catch up at the end of this particular track.

At the end of this track, there was a small amount of rougher ground to get across, which didn’t take too long. The map didn’t lie and all that lay between us and the Day 3 finish now was one beast of a climb, a cold windswept summit, and a rather painful and at times technical descent into camp.

I enjoyed the climb and was in a nice marching pattern with Scott and Stevie Clare. I was watching Scott’s feet, and Stevie mine. At the top, and for the only time in the event, I was very cold due to the wind chill so it was a case of getting through the next few hundred meters and then descending to lower ground asap. Before the descent we could see camp, but it was deceiving and took an age to get there. Our legs were tired, but we were all focused on getting down there as quickly as we could and power walked and ran where possible. Eventually, the rugged terrain gave way to forest trail and it was brilliant bounding through the forest knowing that camp was imminent. All that was now required was a short river crossing and a run into camp.

It was very late and the day had taken me 15 hours, but psychologically I knew tomorrow was a great deal shorter on mileage and it would be an excellent opportunity to get into camp with plenty of daylight left and have more time to relax.

Jon came in a short while after me, and he had given everything that day. It was tough on both of us, given that it was late and we were the last in our tent back. However, we both made sure we got a good plate of food in us before hitting the sack.

Unfortunately, I didn’t see Scott beyond this day. I’d heard later that he’d had to pull out on account of his blister issues, which was a real shame. It really hammered home just how unpredictable these events are, and how you should take nothing for granted and enjoy it while you can.

 Wednesday – Day 4, Achnashelloch to Kinlochewe, Distance 35km, Height Gain 1,400m

Distance wise, I had it in my head that this would be the easy day. However, it didn’t really turn out this way.

I started off with Jon, and soon enough we began a long steady climb. The terrain itself was pretty good and I was able to get a good pace going. I was moving at a different speed to Jon, and waited at the top for a couple of minutes. However, with no sign, I pushed on hoping he would keep me in his sights and catch up.

I maintained decent progress on my own, and made CP1 with ease feeling really positive about the day. Progress continued, and after being on my own for some time I joined up with Stuart Secker and Louise Watson. We ascended to Loch Coire Mhic Fhearchair and were greeted with absolutely stunning scenery. The place was breathtaking and we all took some time to admire the beauty.

After leaving the Loch, it was trickier navigationally, and we began moving East. I was now in the company of Angus McArthur and Phil Humphries. I enjoyed meeting up with different people along the route, and both guys were very laid back and good company. Unfortunately, although we found ourselves on the right bearing, we were a lot higher than we should be and the longer we continued the harder it would be to drop down. As it was we were already 250m too high. This descent was precarious to say the least and it was achieved any way we could, with plenty of time on the backside. All the way down there were hidden rocks, pot holes, tussocks and mud. By now, the risk of ticks warning had well and truly gone out of the window and it was a case of ‘how many’ rat ‘if’. As the three of us descended we spotted other runners moving east below us on the correct path, so we got down as quickly as we could and all moved forwards together in a group of 6. By now, the midday sun was beating down upon us and there was barely a cloud in the sky. It was slightly stop and start as we gradually followed our respective GPS devices to find the correct path that would eventually descend into camp. Once on the path, I was unable to maintain the pace of the others and figured that with plenty of time on my side, I would take a slow plod to the finish and save some energy for day 5. The descent was over quite painful on account of the stone based terrain, with a short stretch of road before camp.

Camp was a welcome sight and it was early. I retrieved my drop bag and got myself sorted out. This involved sitting in the blazing sunshine on a deckchair with my feet in a washing up bowl of cold, clean water. Heavenly!!

An hour later, when I was probably on my 3rd portion of chips when I saw Jon come through. Initial thoughts were positive, but then I heard him tell Shane he’d been disqualified. It had turned out he’d headed North 6 miles instead of East shortly after the waterfall and had been picked up on the main road, which was well off the map. I think there had been an option to continue along a very busy road, with a time penalty, but Jon had decided against this. However, soon enough, he was his usual positive self, and after a morale boosting call to his wife back home, we were off together to grab a coke from the pub and get a few supplies in at the local store. It was at the local store that we were able to cheer a few other fellow runners through, to include Andrew ‘Basil’ Heaney and Ally Wren whilst also letting them have a bite of our ice creams. I think its safe to say that the gesture was appreciated.

The evening was spent with a nice meal in the pub, and I was feeling well and truly recharged for day 5. I avoided a beer though, and was determined that there would be no beer until I had completed this event.

Thursday – Day 5, Kinlochewe to Inverlael, Distance 44km, Height Gain 1,400m

Feeling fully recharged, I was ready to go today. Jon’s feet were very swollen, so it was beneficial he was skipping todays stage. Off the back of never having run an ultra, he’d carved out around 125 miles in four days, so a bloody good achievement. I had no doubt he’d be raring to go for day 6.

It was also a familiar start to the morning in the tent. It was quite easy to pick up on some conversations from other tents, and I could frequently hear Gilliam Boogerd’s infectious higher pitched laugh over and above everything else. Usually he’d be ripping the piss out of one of his tent mates, and it was amusing overhearing his tactics for reeling them in and dealing the hammer blow. Gilliam was a funny and positive guy to be around, and I enjoyed his company.

This stage started following a nice easy track with Louise Watson and Kevin Stuart , generally chatting about the event so far. Soon enough we began climbing, whilst still on good terrain. I was moving well and truly in the zone. And maintained a good steady pace, running in convoy to PP1. From here we headed inland through Bealoch nan Croise and were now off track. The ground was rough and dull of tussocks, whilst being very boggy in places. However, the scenery was once again mind blowing and at one stage we saw around 12 wild deer run past us. Absolutely spectacular.

After navigating across this terrain, we found another good path and headed north alongside Loch an Nid. Its safe to say I was loving today, since the sights had been out of this world and the body seemed to be adjusting very positively to the daily mileage. I appeared to be particularly strong on the climbs, and was maintaining a good pace otherwise.

For a while I jogged along without a care in the world, with the Loch to my left. Towards the end of the Loch I filled my water bottles and began a steady ascent towards CP1. It was during the ascent that I came across Darren Grigas who was in some degree of pain with a shin injury. Nevertheless, he was very positive and maintained a smile. It was not going to stop him. From memory, when I came across him on this day he was filming tadpoles with his go-pro.

Slightly further on a fellow competitor, Jonathan Douglass, had noticed that Darren was in some pain and and lent him one of his walking poles for support. It was a great gesture, and typified the growing camaraderie between all competitors.

In Darren’s company I continued to and passed through CP1 and we both knew there was a steady climb coming up. It started off fairly steep through woodland, and then eased off and became more steady. We took time at the top to get some great scenic pictures and fill up with water. CP1 had been positioned later in the route today, so psychologically we knew most of the hard work was done for the day and we were once again looking at an early finish.

Eventually, I moved on alone to descend on mostly runnable trail. Today had been hot, and the weather was showing no signs of cooling. I found the descent very painful, since by now the knees and quads were feeling overworked. However, with a face that probably looked rather constipated I was down quickly enough. The last half mile was spent on a flat road running into camp, at an enjoyable pace.

Best thing about camp today, was that I was given a choc ice at the end by the team. Officially, the best choc ice ever!

After today, my hamstring was tight but there were plenty of opportunities to cool this in the river, and I had plenty of time to do so. It was also good to have a second opportunity, after the previous day, to wash and to get the feet sufficiently clean.

The last two days had been very uplifting in terms of scenery and having plenty of time at camp to chill out post race. I personally think that these two days were a masterstroke by Shane and the team, and really afforded everyone the chance to fully recharge. The next two days at 45 and 38 miles respectively were going to be a huge test, given there were a fair few miles in our legs already, but my mind was positive and raring to go.

Friday - Day 6, Inverlael to Inchnadamph, Distance 72km, Height Gain 1,400m

I was well rested after a good nights sleep and the hamstring was no longer tight, which was a relief. However, I had an intense pain on my lower left shin, and had started to notice swelling, but no bruising. Slightly worrying, with 100 miles to go but I was not alone and there were plenty of others in the same boat. This event was never exactly going to be a walk in the park after all.

Jon was also well rested, and was on the start line to get day 6 done. It was good to have his company again. The day started with a steady winding trail up through a forest with good underfoot terrain. One again, I was really enjoying the climbing, and was maintaining a strong pace. Already, at around 7:30 it was very close, and it was clear that today was going to be a very hot day.

With the first mountain section complete we continued onwards to Glen Douchary, and the terrain here was not so enjoyable. The tussocks, bog and rough unpredictable ground was fast becoming my nemesis with ankles twisting and knees jarring at frequent intervals. To maintain a degree of sanity I started keeping score between the two, which in a way too my mind off it a little. At this time, the shin pain was also becoming really intense and the swelling greater. My calf guard was also causing me discomfort by compressing it so I rolled that down to alleviate some pressure. The descents were particularly harsh, and it felt like a chisel knocking against the shin. After what seemed like an eternity we saw off this terrain and began a more enjoyable ascent on track and ultimately bound to CP1.

We’d noticed from the map that there was a pub near CP1 so it was decision time with regards to getting some refreshments on board. After momentary deliberation, and a temptation to get out of the heat, we decided to push on and begin the next ascent which was mostly track. It was now becoming intensely hot, and I could feel a few quite a few hot spots underfoot.

We maintained steady progress along the path, and at Allt Rugaidh Moor I had been keeping an eye out for a right hand path since there was a risk we could overshoot this. Ultimately we did anyway by 50m, but after taking a grid reference realized the error and tracked back and find the path. This was easier said than done, but we eventually found some tracks which ultimately ascended to another main track which we needed to follow.

There was now a nice runnable path to Loch Ailsh, but my shin was in such pain I could only manage a fast walk at best. This was greatly frustrating since there were so many runnable parts at this point.

We reached the Loch and began a northerly bearing, which was ultimately leading to the finish although there was some distance still to cover and it would be slow going. The ground was to become tougher underfoot and by now my legs felt like they had nothing left. It had been a long day, with constant high temperatures, and I was the most tired and low I had been during the event.

After what felt like a very long death march we found ourselves in a group of six and tackled the tricky last part of the course. This involved climbing to higher ground by the gorge and finding the path for the final descent into camp. Mark Rawlinson and David Rennie were kind enough to let me tag along and I kept them firmly in sight as we descended. For me, the end could not come quick enough on account of the shin pain. That said, I was delighted with the time today and was giving myself a big pat on the back for carving today out.

On arrival into camp I had a quick chat with the medic, and the first thing I did was get my feet and shin into a huge bucket of Loch water. What followed was one of the most relaxing experiences of the event. My feet were cooling off, I was given a cold can of coke, I was reading messages from my wife and kids whilst looking ahead at a beautiful Loch. Can life really get any better?

Jon was buzzing when he came in 30 minutes later, and rightly so. He’d exorcised the demons of two days previous and had done an amazing job. His feet were badly swollen, and he’d really had to dig deep today.

We spent a couple of hours down the pub, where the landlord gave me a bag of ice for my shin, whilst serving me up a heavenly pint of milk. Darren, who later joined us, was easily corrupted to the milk gang.

Saturday - Day 7, Inchnadamph to Kinlochbervie, Distance 61km, Height Gain 1,600m

This morning I decided a shoe switch was in order. With the prolonged heatwave the ground was drying out, and with some road factored into todays route I decided to switch back to my comfier option of NB Leadville’s. It would subsequently involve being more unsteady on the boggier ground throughout various stages today, but on balance I figured it would be worth it.

Psychologically, if I completed today I knew it was the event was in the bag given the relatively shorter distance on day 8. Therefore, left camp on my own at 7am, very motivated, and with the simple mantra of ‘one foot in front of the other and repeat’. I started off very well and took the first long and steady ascent strongly.

After this, I hit some more challenging terrain and I passed Eas a Chual Aluinn Waterfalls, which were spectacular. What followed after this was a horrible stretch for me as I headed to Loch Beag and headed east along the shore. It was absolutely horrendous and slow going, whilst my ankles and knees were going every direction possible. I was in some pain, and was solely focused on the bridge at the end of the Loch and sincerely hoping heading back west along the opposite side would be easier.

Thankfully, the other side was a great deal better and very runnable indeed. It had been sometime since I had run, so it was initially difficult to forge a rhythm. Eventually, I got a good run going towards the waterfall ar Maide Burn, so much so that I overshot my planned turning and had to backtrack 100m.

I then found myself on another steep and steady climb and once again surrounded by spectacular views of the waterfalls followed by Loch a Leathaid Bhuain. After my previous error, I was very mindful that I needed to keep a sharp eye out for the NW path to Ben Dreavie.

After taking the path, I found myself on my own amongst lots of small lochs and in complete tranquility and silence. It was quite a special moment for me, so I decided it was time for lunch and for the first time de-bagged, sat on a rock and just took some time whilst I at a trusty pepperoni wrap. I’d just about finished this when Angus, Alex Reilly and Mark Keddie came by so I gladly joined their company for the next stretch. This started with a trek across rougher ground and required careful navigation. Thus ultimately led to a path which descended into CP1. I was proving to be very slow on the more technical descents and found the others were moving faster than me. However, today was going very well in my mind and I was positive, so I ran and walked into CP1.

Hitting CP1 was important since it meant only 10-12km of the rough stuff before joining the road which would lead to the finish. Beyond CP1 there was a good path to follow and I was able to keep Mark in my sights. There was a slightly tricky navigational part to reach the path along Loch a Garbh-bhaid Moir, but I used my GPS to stay on the right track.

I found the path, and got all excited that this would be a nice coast to the road and could get a good pace going. However, it was anything but and I found it really hard to stay on my feet, and once again I was in a lot of pain. I came across Alex, who looked like he was as fatigued as me. However, no complaints from either of us since we were surrounded by natural beauty and loving it.

I pushed onto the CP2 with a sole mission to get a coke in for Alex and I, since I knew there was a pub. After receiving quite a few weird looks in the bar I managed to get back outside outside and give Alex his ice cold coke before we headed off on the final road section.

This stretch was mostly runnable, with the potential of power walking the ascents. Even though runnable, the legs felt like anything but running but doing this meant the finish line would be arriving quicker. Alex eventually passed me as the coke took effect, and just before the end of the stage and a crazy sprint finish I passed John Minta. I had seen John at the end of day 6, and he looked in a really bad way carrying what looked to be a serious injury. I’d also observed him nailing some really technical terrain in previous stages. This guy was hard as nails, and he’d done amazingly well to get today done in the time he had. I also spent some time with John post event finish, and as it turned out John had gifted his finishers medal to an equally deserving fellow competitor who had unfortunately missed one of the days. I was very humbled by his gesture, and it spoke volumes about him as a person.

At the finish, Jon and Mick were there to see me over the line.

I finished off the day giving the feet a well earned cooling in the Loch and several servings of chips.

Sunday - Day 8,  Kinclochbervie to Cape Wrath, Distance 26km, Height Gain 700m

The route itself was shorter today, but after studying the map it was clear that the second half, after Sandwood Bay, would be tougher going in terms of ascents, descents and terrain. I switched back to the Salomon’s and was ready to go.

I started the day with Jon at walking pace whilst the shin warmed up, and soon enough we were in a steady running pattern. We were also in the company of Mark Keddie and Con Bonner. As we progressed along the first half of the route towards the beach Mark and I found ourselves moving fairly swiftly, with Jon and Con not too far behind.

Up until Sandwood Bay it was fairly easy going, and the actual views of the Bay were an uplifting sight. There seemed little point running on the energy sapping sand so we power walked across and began to ascend. With the terrain now becoming more challenging, along with numerous ascents and descents my shin was once again on fire. I was now becoming extremely slow on the more technical descents, and remembered a group of around 10 runners all easing past me as I struggled on down.

However, today was all about absorbing the final experience and just after Sithean holotaireich we noticed 4-5 runners following a NE bearing, which the map referenced as a military danger area. It didn’t look correct to Mark and I, when verifying against our GPS route, so after trying to call them back we took a more westerly bearing and connected with our route.

All that was left now was to stay on this bearing and find the path that led to the lighthouse at Cape Wrath. Soon enough we did, and settled into a steady run.

It was amazing seeing the lighthouse. The feeling was one of elation, tinged with a bit of sadness that this adventure was nearly over. I managed to run in just as the first minibus was leaving with the lead runners. I was able to high five the windows of the van before crossing the line, and having my picture taken by the iconic lighthouse.

[peterwrightblog]

Jungle Marathon 2015

Background

Back in 2007, around the time of the birth of my first child Joshua, I completed my first ever road marathon. It had been one hell of a journey to get there, littered with constant aborts (not even getting to start line) due to injury. Fortunately, and with the aid of an amazing physio called Lisa Mann,  I was able to get it done.

Fast forward to 2011, around the time of the birth of my second child Leila, and I had piled on the baby weight. It came to a head one day at work when I was forced to carve a new notch in my belt. In reaction, I needed a target, so I entered the London marathon again. I completed it, and had a shocker of a day, but was able to draw on sufficient mental strength and doggedness to get it done.

What came next was interesting, when I was persuaded to enter the 2013 Marathon des Sables.

Initially, I had plenty of doubt as to whether I was capable of doing it, but set about the task with dedication to training and smashing out PBs for various distances during the build up. I also entered the land of the Ultra, completing events such as Druids, Pilgrims and Country to Capital. By this time I was hooked on such events, due to the sheer challenge and the amazing people I  met during them.

During the beginning of MDS I probably didn’t believe in myself enough, and held back a little too much, being very much risk adverse to the heat. However, this changed as the event progressed, and I was very happy with an eventual top half finish and a great performance on the long day. It was an epic experience, shared with amazing people, and one I would wholly recommend.

Towards the end of 2013 I reflected on what had been a life-changing year, and decided I definitely needed more of the same. More targets were needed, and they had to be tougher, capable of testing the mind to its limits. 100-mile events were somewhat iconic and appealed to me, so from late 2013 to August 2014, I completed the Winter 100, Lakeland 100 and Ultra trail du Mont Blanc. I should probably add that I wouldn’t recommend doing the latter two so close together!  

Picking the Jungle Marathon

In 2014, a good friend planted the idea of the 2015 Jungle marathon, a six-stage multi-day event taking place in the Amazon rainforest - think MDS, only in the jungle. I had a lifelong ambition to visit the Amazon, so figured why not combine it with running. So, that was 2015′s target well and truly fixed.

In terms of events, the end of 2014 became a bit of a write-off when I suffered tendonitis, which kept me out of action until March 2015. I had probably overdone it in 2014, so the rest was much-needed. It also meant I had to withdraw from the Spine race 2015, which was annoying. However, I was persuaded by Steve on New Years Day to enter the Dragons Back, which was in June 2015. This was perfect timing for me, as it would give me time to recover from injury and get ready for the event. It would also, in theory, put me in great shape for the Jungle event.

Unfortunately, in May I went through a very difficult time and found myself out of work for the first time since leaving school. I decided Dragons Back was still a good idea, and would be the solution in rebuilding my self-esteem. What better that a glorious multi-day ( and bloody tough, at that) ultra event.

How wrong I was, when I decided to DNF at the end of day 1.

Outwardly, I blamed the recurrence of the injury for the DNF, which was causing some discomfort. In truth, it was a convenient excuse. The real issue was that my head simply wasn’t in the game, and in my experience such events are probably more about mental strength than physical. The one day I did complete was very tough, and I am looking to going back one day.

Time always heals though, and with the support of my amazing wife we refocused on the Jungle marathon. I say ‘we’ at this point because she knows what makes me tick, and she helped me get back in the game for this event.

The next few months were dedicated to getting as ready as I could, and with a month to go I had a good confidence-building run with Steve at the Snowdonia 50 event, which again I would wholly recommend.

I was now ready for the Jungle.

 The Build-Up

Thursday

After a long journey from Jersey - which involved six different flights - we finally arrived in Santarem, Brazil. From there, we took a taxi to the small town of Alter de Chao, which was where we would be boarding the boat to the Jungle. We spent the day chilling in the town, enjoying a few beers, eating, swimming and anticipating the forthcoming event. We also met fellow competitors Simon and Joel, who were from the UK and Spain respectively.

At around 9pm we were allowed to board the boat (on a very unsteady plank) and join the hustle and bustle in finding a suitable spot to hang our hammocks. We would be on this boat for the next 11-12 hours, so a few hours sleep in the  would be necessary. Sensibly, we positioned ourselves right near the noisy engine, so that evening’s sleep was not the best!

The boat eventually left at around midnight, so there was a bit of time for a couple more beers. Also, we made our way back into the town centre of Alter de Chao, where we indulged in a bit of people-watching in what looked like a very tight-knit community.

Friday

We woke up at around 6am, and we had a small planned stop at a sand split in the middle of the Tapajos river, where we were told that there was an opportunity to see pink dolphins. Unfortunately, we didn’t see any, but we took the opportunity to stretch our legs and have a swim.

At around 8am we boarded the boat and continued on with the journey, and by 10am we arrived in our base camp destination, which would be our home for today and Saturday.

Upon arriving we were warmly greeted by the local villagers, including many school children who sang songs and held ‘Welcome’ banners.

We were then shown to a wooded enclosure near the village, and found a suitable location to tie our hammocks. Steve and I initially targeted a very dead-looking tree, before deciding that it would probably be a good idea to switch location, lest we plummet to the ground in the early hours!

Despite our considered preparation, I had a minor bed-related disaster when one rope pretty much snapped at one end of my hammock. Luckily, and with the help of Steve, gaffer tape (borrowed from Mark) and spare rope (provided by Shirley), we were able to come up with a solution which would prove strong enough for the rest of event.

The rest of the day was spent hanging out and getting to know our fellow competitors. It was easy to strike up conversation, and I found everyone very relaxed and sociable. Steve and I were camping close to Mark, Will and Sarah, and we also got to know fellow UK competitors Brook and Andy. Once the hammocks were up, we had the mandatory kit checks, medical checks, and went down to the beach to collect our race numbers.

As would prove normal throughout the event, bedtime was at sunset, which was around 7pm. There was little point staying up beyond this point, since you would invariably get bitten by something. The Hennessy hammocks were very comfortable, the trick being to lie diagonally across the hammock. I found that I was waking up frequently during the night, but easily drifted off again. As thought, a silk liner was more than sufficient in terms of warmth, and most of the time I didn’t even need that!

Saturday

The following morning started with the race briefing, which included a detailed presentation, safety information and practical demonstrations by the Bombeiros (Army).

The practical demos mainly consisted of survival techniques, but I also had the opportunity to hold a boa constrictor, which had been captured by the Bombeiros a couple of days before. I’d never held a snake before, but the correct technique was demonstrated, and it proved to be easy enough.

Earlier that day, Mike (from Canada) had enraged this same boa when he was invited to pick it up during the initial presentation. Having not been informed about the correct way to pick it up, he did so a tad too aggressively, resulting in the boa going absolutely nuts. Mike did very well to control that situation, and fortunately by now the boa was slightly more docile.

After lunch, Steve and I explored the local area surrounding the village, and located the beginning of the race course. We decided to do a 30-minute out-and-back exploration, which included a nice 10-minute lung-buster of a hill at the beginning. That would be fun the next day with a 14kg pack in tow!

Also, we had our first exposure to the dangers of this new environment. While we were enjoying cooling off in the river, one competitor was stung by a sting-ray. It looked bad initially, but he was fine after good treatment from both the medics and the locals. The same guy went on to win the race, so there must be something in these stings!

Later that day, we had the final medical briefing, were given the opportunity for Q&A, and then dropped our luggage bags on the boat. From this point onwards it would be all about self sufficiency, and we would need to survive with what we had decided to pack in our race packs.

The rest of the day was spent chilling, socialising and anticipating. I couldn’t wait for tomorrow to start - this adventure had been two years in the making!

The Race Begins

Sunday – Stage 1, Distance 23km

The race notes described this as ‘A short, sharp shock to the system. This stage gives you a taste of everything the jungle can throw at you’.

Shirley mentioned at the previous night’s briefing that this would be a very difficult stage, and the day did not disappoint in this respect.

As planned, I started the race with Steve. We’re good pals, and generally run at a similar pace, so we figured that it would be good to try and do this event together. That said, we were both here to run our own races, and since we were facing so many unknowns we knew this may not be the case.

To CP1 we were looking at 5km, and it started with a steep jungle climb over trail, followed by some very runner-friendly jungle trails. Steve and I were soon turning our ankles inside and out, Steve probably more than me, so we cut out the excitable chatter and focused on getting to CP1 ankles intact. It was unforgiving terrain, with vines, roots and pot holes everywhere. In addition, there were sharp branches and razor sharp plants. You needed your wits about you, and concentration was key.

At CP1 there was a creek which we were encouraged to get in and cool off. For the first two days, a mandatory 15-minute rest had been enforced at all checkpoints, with the aim of helping competitors and ensuring they looked after themselves. So at this CP I just jumped in the creek and cooled down with many others.

Then it was on to CP2, where we encountered our first swamp and I quickly lost my left leg thigh-high in swamp. Steve then targeted a good route through, so I just followed his lead. After careful negotiation we passed through it. So far, so good.

CP2 to CP4 was mostly jungle trails with a few brutal climbs thrown in. Upon leaving CP2 we soon encountered a particularly brutal steep climb. As we reached the summit Steve asked where my water bottles were. Shit. I had one of those flashback moments, and realised I had left them at CP3. What a prize tit.

My first thought would be that I would have to descend back to CP2 and repeat the ascent. Race rules state you need 2.5 litres of capacity on you, but as luck would have it I had my bladder in my pack, along with side soft flasks, so I had more than enough water and capacity to get to CP3, which was the village of Takura. All I would need to do here is switch to a different water strategy for today. The race organisers were concerned on my arrival at CP3, but I was able to assure them I was suitably hydrated and okay for the rest of the day. Fortunately, at the end of the day’s stage I was able to retrieve my bottles.

Having front bottles was key for me so that the race pack weight would be more evenly distributed. In addition, I found the benefit of front bottles was that you always knew how much capacity you had left, so it made water management a whole lot easier.

Upon reaching CP4 I was certainly feeling the effects of the combined heat and humidity. I was very appreciative of the 15-minute mandatory stop, and inside I knew it was time to calm things down slightly until the finish. I knew I had not been getting enough water in, so this was something I would need to pay more attention to moving forward. Salt-wise, the trusty S caps were going in every 30 minutes, and given that I sweat a lot this was entirely necessary. At around CP4 I had a chat with Steve, and we decided to do our own things. I was struggling to keep up with him, and he certainly looked like he was acclimatising better than me.

I found the final push to the end of this day’s stage difficult. I was starting to struggle, and even when trying to hold back I was going slower than I wanted. It was like hitting the 18-20 mile wall of a road marathon. To me, it felt like a tight blanket of pure heat, and quite claustrophobic. On the plus side, my feet felt good, and everything physically was in working order. It was going to be a simple case of allowing my body to acclimatise to this new and very alien environment. In addition, this was only stage 1 and for multi-day events I knew from previous experience that consistency would be key.

Local children greeted me before the end of the stage, and I was able to run over the line with them, which was uplifting and a great way to finish.

Upon arriving at the end of the stage it was the usual drill, assuming you finished in daylight and actually had time to tick all the boxes, which were as follows:

·      Get complementary juice from Shirley

·      Find camp and hang up hammock

·      Take off race kit and switch to shorts/t-shirt

·      Locate river and cool off while washing clothes

·      Dry clothes by hanging on hammock

·      Eat, socialise and send e-mails

·      Get bag and kit ready for the following day

·      Attend race briefing for following day

What was evident at this camp in particular was the amount of bullet ants that inhabited it. Nasty-looking things, I’d heard all about the effect of their stings, which rather aptly is meant to feel like being shot. Great care was definitely needed when walking around, and my trusty crocs were very necessary.

Hopefully, the sheer ugliness of them would scare the bullet ants away, but I feared not.

I managed to find Steve once I’d sorted myself out, and we explored camp and the local village. Back at the finish, we witnessed Will having a ‘hot shot’ on one of his blisters (more about hot shots later). Steve and I were hoping for man screams and good GoPro footage, but Will turned out to be hard as nails. I also managed to get my water bottles back - I would not be repeating that mistake again in a hurry!

At the end of the day, and during the race brief, Shirley assured us that the following day would be easier, but that it would start with a river crossing. I’d been looking forward to the river crossings, so went to bed eagerly anticipating this.

 Monday – Stage 2, Distance 24km

Today was billed as ‘Starting with a deep river crossing, and then entering the jungle for a mainly flat course. Care would be needed, since there were plenty of plants that stings and leaves that tear, and a huge amount of snakes’.

Fortunately, by the end of today I had seen none of the latter. However, the plants and leaves comment was bang on, relevant to all parts of the jungle.

Before the river swim, I decided to get my pack within a strong bin liner and attempt to swim across that way. Within my pack I had everything stored away in dry bags, so was confident that all contents would remain dry should the bin liner leak.

The race started, and It was all hustle and bustle getting in the water. I hadn’t done much in the way of swim training before the event, but figured it would be quicker to swim than use the rope. I was hopelessly wrong, and by two thirds of the way across I felt the energy I was expending on swimming wasn’t quite reaping the rewards in distance covered.

I then switched to using the rope provided. I was catching my breath big time the other side, and the crossing was tougher on the lungs than I thought it would be. I was with Steve, so we de-bagged and headed off into the jungle. However, I felt quite sick and fatigued from the start, and wanted to play today safe, so I encouraged Steve to push on ahead and run his own race.

With this particular event and terrain, you’ve got enough to concentrate on without any added pressure of playing catch-up or feeling bad about holding someone back. It was the right call, and we both knew it.

The day itself ended up being one of the easier days of the event. To the final checkpoint it was mostly jungle trail, but there were not many ascents, so it was relatively straightforward in keeping a consistent pace. That said, I did start to feel very tired again when the heat rose at around 10:30, so was once again feeling heavy-legged for the final hour of the stage.

Along the long and winding road to the finish I got chatting to a nice Belgian chap called Eric, and we were talking tactically about how we were both easing into the event. In truth, I didn’t feel like I was coping at all well, but the conversation put a positive spin on how I was feeling.

I made the finish round at 12-ish, which was a psychological boost and left plenty of time for the usual post-race routine and plenty of R&R. My feet were still in good shape, and once my body temperature cooled down I felt very good physically as well. Today, on recommendation from Jon in Guernsey (a previous competitor of the Jungle Marathon), I dug out a tomato cup a soup as a pre-dinner snack. It was absolute heaven in a cup.

I also found a trusty bag of biltong in my food sack, which I’d forgotten about, so I would be gnawing on that for the remainder of the race. Biltong proved a good alternative to some of the other snacks I had, so that was also a welcome boost.

I spent quite a bit of time with Steve and other competitors chilling in the river, and we also checked out the start of day 3, which would begin with another, slightly longer river crossing.

At sunset I retired to my hammock, knowing from Shirley’s briefing that we would be facing a tough day tomorrow with the toughest of the climbs during that stage. I felt positive in my mind and physically good as well. The only issue was getting used to the combined heat and humidity, and I really hoped I would feel more consistent tomorrow.

 Tuesday – Stage 3, Distance 38km

The briefing notes stated that ‘You will have some killer climbs and descents, and you will be crossing a community with the highest population of jaguars, so be vigilant. Be ready for stream crossings, relentless hills and a nighttime to remember in our deep jungle campsite, where armed guards will try to keep the jaguars away. In this stage you will find the highest hills of the race.’

I liked the statement about being vigilant, and assumed my small penknife and newly acquired jungle sticks would be sufficient for this purpose. I also hoped the armed guards would try their hardest in terms of keeping things out of camp.

Today was the longest day so far, and for those who were recording distances some had it down as longer. The day turned out to be brutal, and very eventful.

The stage started with a river crossing, which for some reason I attempted in similar style to the previous day. This time the bin bag leaked, so I had the added weight of a soggy bag to contend with. Also, I couldn’t seem to swim in a straight line, and eventually one fellow competitor just shouted over “Why don’t you grab the bloody rope?” That was a good idea, and from that point on I would be using the ropes since it was far quicker and easier.

The contents of my bag on the other side were fine since they were in good dry bags. I threw away my split bin bag, and moved onto CP1 feeling decent enough. Today was the first day of non-enforced checkpoint stops, but I decided to take 10 minutes at CP1 for good order. I was glad, I did because the slog to CP2 was absolutely horrendous. It was up and down through the jungle all the way, and there really were some killer ascents and descents. The descents were equally tough because you really did have to grab hold of something to steady you, and that left you open to grabbing something you shouldn’t.

I felt stronger today and made it into CP2, certainly feeling the effort of the previous leg but coping very well. I left CP2 with a spring in my step, running and marching purposely in equal measure. Then, I encountered a slight problem.

Throughout the jungle trails there were often fallen trees to step over, climb under and climb over. Some were too high to climb over while being too low to effectively crouch under. In such situations it was hands and knees quickly again increasing the risk of bites of cuts. The particular tree approaching was a simple step over, but I decided to step on it and jump off. On landing my right ankle went straight into a pothole and my full body weight twisted right.

The agony was instant and extreme, and I had to grab a nearby branch to prevent myself toppling over. Luis, my Argentinian friend, was just behind me and was very concerned with what he had seen. Our communication methods were basic, but I assured him I needed to carry on and walk it off.

Inside I felt sick, since I could feel the fattening around the whole ankle. Thoughts of ‘DNF’ flashed through my mind, but I tried to cut out the negative thoughts and just focus on getting to the next checkpoint and speaking with the medics. That said, I didn’t want a decision to be taken out of my own hands, so would need to put a positive spin on that conversation when it happened.

The journey to CP3 was depressing since in my head I knew this wasn’t a routine twist. At this moment in time, I realised just how much this event meant to me, and how badly I wanted - and needed - to finish it. The eventual arrival into CP3 was through a village called Braganca, and it couldn’t come soon enough. Medics advice (after a tiny lie about the pain being a bit less than it was) was to keep my trainer on, take painkillers, push on and elevate at finish. Ice would not be an option at the jungle camp, so the plan was to get in and assess it from there. However, there was still a good 20km to go today so needed to get my head in the game for that.

At the CP, I was gutted to see Sarah there with her ankle elevated. She had turned it very badly early on Day 1, and she had shown amazing grit to push herself this far, but the pain had become too much, forcing her to withdraw.

I left CP3 faking positivity with an equally fake spring in my step, and then went back to limping when I was out of sight. CP3 to CP4 was very tough, and proved to be one of my toughest experiences in the entire event. The heat was rising, and there were gaps in the canopy, which resulted in a searing heat and oppressive humidity. It was also all jungle trail, with climb after climb and descent after descent, each slightly more challenging than the previous.

I’d taken plenty of water from CP3, and was feeling the need to stop regularly and soak my buff. Often I would stop where there was any hint of shade and just try and regulate my body temp. My ankle was very weak, and I was turning it outwards every time I lost concentration, which was becoming more and more frequent.

For what seemed like an age I continued, and eventually came into CP4. Jack, one of the medics, saw me into CP4 and looked concerned. I think he’d heard a few stories of a few of us looking pretty fucked!

I took a good 20 minutes at CP4, and the medics were on hand to pour water over us in an effort to get our body temperatures down slightly. I ate and drank plenty, and then pushed on to the end of this stage.

There was still another 7km to go, but I was assured there was only one beast of a climb remaining. The heat and humidity was very intense, and it was the trusty game of ‘one foot in front of the other, then repeat’. Weirdly I started singing to myself at this stage also - even more weirdly it was a Lionel Ritchie song that came into my head. I still don’t understand that one - best put it down to jungle madness.

Eventually, I came across a stream, so carefully negotiated myself across a very slippery log (fun with the ankle), and then took a steep jungle climb and began the final 1km push into camp. Before camp, I had the rather quirky Japanese cameraman asking me questions, filming me and following me. Its safe to say I wasn’t really in the mood, but consoled myself with visions of him getting devoured by a huge jaguar or a giant snake.

Reaching camp was a total relief, and a victory in itself given the events 20km back. It was a huge lift to see familiar faces at camp, and from memory Steve was in his pants oiling himself up. This would be a familiar sight throughout the event. I decided to try and get my hammock up and admin sorted before taking a look at my ankle.

It was tricky finding a spot given that I was at the back end of the pack today, but Mike was fortunately at hand, and put my hammock up for me while I sorted my ankle. Sure enough it was very swollen all round, so elevation and anti-inflammatory was all I could do today. Cody offered me some tablets, which I gratefully accepted. It was extremely painful, but as far as I was concerned if it was no worse in the morning I would be good to go.

The main thing is that I could put weight on it, even if it did hurt a lot when doing so. The medics took a look, but once again I told a little white lie with regard to where it hurt specifically and how much. All I needed was a short-term solution, which equated to a combination of strapping and painkillers. I figured I’d worry about everything else once the event was done.

Sleep actually came very easy, but what was great about tonight was that we were in the deep jungle, and the sounds of the jungle were simply amazing. Once I was in my hammock I was frequently disturbed by commotion around me as giant spiders were seen or jaguars and even pumas sighted. It was all very exciting, and certainly a different way to spend an evening!

It was one of the highlights for me, drifting in and out of sleep listening to the sounds of the deep jungle. At around 3am I needed the toilet, so took myself to the ‘hole’, which seemed to be in the middle of nowhere, looking very nervously over my shoulder as routine business was performed. On the plus side, and during the short walk to ‘the hole’ I discovered that my ankle was not any worse, so I knew I would be good to go for stage 4.  

 Wednesday – Stage 4, Marathon Day (Distance 42km)

The briefing notes today had this down as the toughest marathon on the planet.

The tactic today was to get some light strapping on, which Vicky (one of the medics) helpfully sorted for me. Second was to find some sticks from the jungle floor from the start for added support, which were easily sourced.

By now, the morning drill was easier and the bag was getting slightly lighter. Generally, I was sorting everything before bed, so it was just a case of getting up, eating breakfast, getting dressed and sorting out water. Everything else was where I needed it to be.

Before the start I saw Sarah, who had withdrawn injured the previous day. She had this determined look on her face, and said she was here to do a marathon and that’s exactly what she would do. Her ankle was in a very bad way, and I had nothing but admiration for her. This particularly inspired me at the time, and as it turned out I would spend a large part of this day with her.

The day started with a very long jungle trail, so my newly acquired walking poles were helping me with much-needed support. What struck me today was that the field quickly spread out, and before long I was on my own, moving at a decent enough pace. I quite liked the moments of being solo and just listening to the sounds of the jungle.

Yesterday was particularly hot and humid, but today there seemed to be a good blanket of cloud cover. This was particularly welcoming, allowing a good, strong pace early on.

The jungle floor was the usual minefield of hazards, so focus and concentration were definitely needed for this initial part.  

After a couple of hours I arrived at a water station, where I quickly topped up and moved on. Others were cooling off in the stream, but I found it cooler today so there was no need for that. Just after this point I met Sarah and we moved along together well, chatting and approaching the long combined 2km river and swamp crossings. Now this was great fun.

The 1km river stretch came first, and by now I had given up on the bin liner approach. The river was lovely and cooling, the only issue being the constant battering of my shins on hidden logs and twisted roots below. Sometimes you could make them out, and sometimes you couldn’t. Along the river we would have to climb over fallen trees or swim under them.

Apart from my bag momentarily getting stuck as I tried to swim under, it all went fairly well, and Sarah and I were actually overtaking a few other competitors. I particularly loved this part, and it was just what I had imagined the jungle event to be like.

After the 1km river came the swamp. At the end of the river there was a slight respite from the water, and I noticed some people de-bagging from the dry sacks. I don’t think they realised that the swamp was coming up. Getting through it was slower and took a lot longer. It was relentless and smelly, and also a lot tougher on the shins and ankles, because you could not see what you were about to walk on. This was not good for my ankle, but the pain on my shins and knees as they took a relentless battering kind of took my mind off that.

After a while I just accepted the unpredictable battering that would await each ankle, shin or knee as I waded through. Upon (eventually) exiting the swamp, we disturbed a wild pig, who fortunately seemed more scared of us and just glared at us from the jungle. We’d heard that these things can charge at you, and that escape is best sourced by climbing a tree. I was in no mood for tree climbing, and didn’t feel at my most agile, so was happy to leave the pig in peace and move on.

We soon arrived at the checkpoint, so I took the usual time to fuel up and get ready for the next part. The next section was one of beauty, along stunning beaches and views of the river. It was still relatively cool, so I just absorbed the sights, felt happy in the moment and kept moving on.

I was with Sue for a small part after leaving the checkpoint, and before long we ran through a village, where loads of school children were there to greet and high-five us. That was great fun, and one little lad even gave Sue and I a flower each, which was very touching.

After the village I was moving at a good pace, and soon caught up with Sarah. I spend most of the day with her from this point, and it was good just chatting. The rest of the day was to be a mixture of track and jungle trail. Given the time of day, the heat was now rising, and during the latter parts of the day I got in the habit of carrying extra water so that I could at times cool off by soaking my buff.

At one point during this stage I came across fellow UK competitor Will, who looked like he needed cooling down, so I was able to baptise him at the side of the road. Will had a good tactic of covering distance early on before the heat rose, and he would then slow it down and manage his body temperature accordingly.

From this point it was a case of following a dusty track with a few modest climbs. I saw the day out with Sarah, and we were both very happy to make it to the finish at around 4pm.

We would be staying on a stunning beach, so I found a suitably scenic place to hang my hammock, and then had a much-needed wash. I hadn’t had a wash the previous day, so this was extremely welcoming. Steve was already in the water, and was at hand to take the piss out of my builder’s tan. Love that guy!

After the day before, when I finished close to darkness, it was nice to have the time to catch up with everyone and have a good wash. It was funny to see Takashi Okada, a crazy professional Japanese wrestler, come in. He was carrying a massive backpack (must have been 20kg+). He was very popular with the bombeiros, and shortly after getting in he had his Spider-Man mask on, striking a pose and getting involved in pictures with them all.

Geoff, Sue’s husband, also came in late on, and this was the last day for him since he had entered the 4-day event. The guy was an absolute athlete since he had been out there for an awful long time during those 4 days, and had limited time for rest between the stages. He’d carved it out, and I was chuffed to bits for him. I made an effort to stay up for a bit so I could help him put up his hammock. Geoff and Sue would more than repay that favour at the end of the long stage.

Tomorrow was the long day at 108km, and we had to get started at 04:30, so it would mean rise and shine at around 3am. Andrew (one of the medics) had heavily strapped my ankle, and it now felt very supported. I certainly needed this for the huge distance that was coming up. I felt pretty confident of getting a good pace going, doing my own thing and trying to make the afternoon cut-off. It would be a big ask, but certainly worth a go.

 Thursday – Stage 5, Distance 108km (58km covered to CP5)

As per the briefing notes, this was ‘The long one’.

The day started with the mandatory force-feeding of porridge. I made the mistake of porridge everyday at MDS in 2013, and I’d done it again. At least I’d left the macadamia nuts behind this time.

We were off at 4:30, and the head torch had been dusted down for this first part. The first section through CP1 and CP2 were straightforward by all accounts, and the terrain was quite manageable, being mostly dust track. During the darkness I saw plenty of creatures, mostly in the form of spiders and snakes. You could see eyes of spiders everywhere. Since I felt good, and it was cooler by jungle standards, I was not taking too long at the early checkpoints and pretty much sailed through both of those.

The fun for me started after leaving CP2. After passing through a very picturesque beach, I entered the jungle, where I started following the yellow tape. This was proving hard since following pale yellow tape in a jungle of many shades of green can be quite tricky. Also, the marking seemed slightly more casual than previous days, and I kept missing turnings and having to backtrack and pick up the trail. I figured the fault was probably with myself on account of being very tired, plus I do have previous form for getting lost in really obvious situations.

Anyhow, I pushed on through what was an endless maze of jungle. Eventually, I took a 5-minute sit down to get some food and high-5 powder on board, and that was when Luis arrived on the scene. It was good to have some company since I had been on my own most of the day so far, so I carried on with him.

Before long, there was an almighty smell of cat’s piss, and a very clear long growling sound close to my left-hand side. A jaguar. Although I wanted to see one, I was not about to part the branches and peer in. I looked behind slightly nervously, and Luis said “Jaguar”, and indicated that we should move on swiftly. Sounded like a pretty good idea. About half an hour later I had the same thing happen again, but this time on my right hand side. Weird!

After another 30 minutes, that part started to make sense when we bumped into Henrique and Marlon walking towards us. There was significant confusion between all of us, and after much debate Luis and I realised we must have somehow turned back on ourselves during one of our many corrections on missing tape markings. I was gutted, and figured this was probably going to cost me at least 2 hours and that pretty much ruined any chance of making the cut off. Also, it was getting very hot and humid, and I was using up my water very quickly.

We needed to crack on and get to the next stage, but because of these errors there was now a long way to go. Luis was slower than me on the descents, which were very steep and treacherous, but I waited for him. I felt a strong sense of camaraderie towards him, and could see he was pleased to see I would be sticking with him until we got out of this jungle maze. Eventually, we made the checkpoint and Luis and I hugged it out. That part had been an adventure.

The heat was very extreme today, and this was becoming a greater concern to me. At this checkpoint the medics told us that many people were getting lost and were having heat-related problems. This was becoming an issue for everyone involved.

Also, the distance to the next stage was an incredible 19km, which was a huge distance given the heat, not to mention half of it being very difficult jungle terrain. I was assured that there would be a mid-way water stop, but I still took 4-5 litres out with me. What followed was a very steep ascent along a track, and then more ascent and descent through the jungle for two hours.

Upon leaving the jungle, Luis and I turned left onto a road for the final 10km to CP4. I saw Will sat at the side of the road in the shade and decided to join him. I was not feeling good at all. Luis pushed on, and I wished him well. Will told me there was a truck moving up and down the road delivering water, but unfortunately it never showed up. I was not out of water, but I was consuming it quickly and becoming concerned.

Temperatures were up to 45c, and my body temperature was rising. I was sticking with Will, who was encouraging me to stop regularly. I was elevating my feet and lifting my top up, and basically trying anything to release body heat. It was ridiculous, and I was having to stop every 15 minutes. Eventually, after another enforced stop I tried to get up, and saw black spots and felt very dizzy. Will took one look at me, and told me to stay down. He could hear some music not far down the road, and went to investigate, seeking water to cool me down.

Shortly after he returned, and I was relieved to hear that he had found a stream further up to the left. This, bizarrely, was near CP4, but the race route dictated that we had to a right-hand turn and a 5km loop before we could check into CP4. Regardless, we decided to cool off in the stream before the loop, and Will pretty much ordered to get in the stream. I remained there with Will for a good hour, and allowed my body to cool those vital degrees.

Before entering the stream, I was basically talking bollocks, and in strong denial of just how bad things had got. Will was an absolute legend, and made sure I stayed put for long enough to get my body temperature down and re-hydrate. After this, we pushed on together and completed the 5km loop to CP4. By this time, I could talk sensibly again, and I kind of sensed that Will was keeping a careful eye on me in that respect!

During this loop, I was gutted to see a truck go past with Sue and Richard sat in the back. This meant they had withdrawn from the race, and I really felt for them. They’d both put so much into the event, and I know it was not a decision that either would have taken lightly. Today had been brutal, and I had just had a very lucky escape myself.

By now, making the cut off was an impossibility, so when we finished the stage really did not matter. I now made sense to make sure we finished the stage in good shape and high spirits. We both decided to have our dinner at CP4, and as luck would have it I had two cup-a-soups left, which I was happy to share with Will. This CP was located at a lovely Brazilian lady’s house, and she was at hand to provide us with boiling water for our food.

After this, Will and I pushed on in the dark for the final 9km to CP5. Along this route there were plenty of spiders and snakes to step over. We made it to camp at around 9pm, and it was a case of getting the hammock up asap and to get some rest. Today, I been a 60km day, which had tested me to my limits and put me in a situation I had never been before.

However, I’d made it, and psychologically tomorrow was only 50km, so this was a massive positive. Surely it couldn’t be as bad as today...

 Friday – Stage 5, Distance 108km (50km covered to finish)

Sleep came very easy the previous night, which was not at all surprising given that the limits had been well and truly pushed. I had packed my bag the previous night, so got up at 5:30am in anticipation of a 6:30 start.

It was slightly strange-looking around camp, since it was only partially full. Those not there had either withdrawn or made the cut off and pushed on. I was glad not to see Steve, since that meant he had made the cut off. I knew he had a good chance of that, because I asked after him at CP4, and it certainly sounded like he had a good chance of making CP5.

Since the previous day had taken me so long, any thoughts of a highly placed finish had firmly left my head, and it was all about getting this 50km done and hopefully making it to camp as soon as possible. In my mind, once we reached the end of stage 5, the finishers medal was in the bag and the chances of me not completing the event non-existent. This was because the final stage was a 24km flat course along a beach, so the ‘easiest’ stage of all.

That said, there was a massive task ahead, and I was taking nothing for granted, based on the worsening state of the ankle and the previous day’s issues with the heat.

I started the stage with Luis, Joel and Steve, and tried to match their pace through the jungle trail. Again, it seemed very hot , even at this early hour, so my initial focus was to get some good mileage cleared early on. The jungle trail was the usual affair of hostile terrain and some vicious climbs and ascents just when you need them least.

By the end of the trail and 2 hours in, I decided to take 5 minutes rest so as to get some fuel in, as well as some High 5 powder. I then continued on my own, and subsequently joined a road which took me to a beach, where I found CP6. Just before this CP, I passed a coach and there I saw Enrique and Andy, who must have withdrawn the previous day. They were pleased for me, and I could see no hint of self pity in their eyes. Top guys, but that was the mark of every single competitor who had made it out to this event. Everyone knew it wouldn’t be a walk in the park, and accepted many of the risks and potential DNF reasons were out of their hands.

I took 10 minutes at CP6, and pushed on. At Alto Chao a Brazilian lady came running down and with a sign and showered me with confetti. That was such a nice gesture, and it really filled me with positive energy. I was well on the way to CP7, and feeling very good. Soon enough, I came across the first of many river crossings. It was all slightly strange, and it all seemed to be a merry-go-round of competitors going one way or another.

At one stage I saw Brook (who must have been a good hour ahead of me) going the other way, so assumed I had to follow some kind of loop before doubling back on myself. Onwards, I pushed and caught up with Christoph and Aussie Steve as I crossed another river. I left the shore with both of them, and before long we came across Mike. He knew he should have been significantly ahead of us, and helpfully pointed out that we may have missed CP7. We certainly had, but all looked baffled as to how.

We had to double back for half an hour until we located CP7 and then reverse and continue to CP8. These types of things absolutely destroy you when you are tired and you have to factor in extra mileage. That said, it could have been worse, and soon enough we were back on track, and being very careful following the route.

After some time, we reached what looked like another huge river crossing, but this time there was no rope. A boat was midway across, and the guys on board were waving their arms. The crossing was huge and deep, and there was no way I was swimming across that with no rope. We then remembered that this was the part where a boat was supposed to take us across. That was the boat, but in true comedy fashion it had broken down. Fortunately, the small media boat offered to take us across the river to CP8.

At CP8 we came across Dan, one of the medics and a great bloke. The poor guy had been stranded at this CP for well over a day, and looked like he needed some company. My feet needed drying out as well as sorting the odd blister, so Dan offered to sort this, and administered a hot shot to my blister. I had some dry clean socks in my bag, so put them on in an effort to keep as dry as possible.

I then left the CP with Christoph and pushed onto CP9. There was now only 20km to go, and the end of this stage was in sight. The march onto CP9 and CP10 were comfortable and mostly flat. CP9 to CP10 had its challenges when we had to clamber across quite a few boulders along the beach. However, after all the monotony of the flat beach before, this it was a good bit of fun to do some climbing. On route to CP10 it was clear that we were going to make that at sunset, but would probably have to do CP10 to the finish in darkness.

The head torch came out, and Jack, another medic, said the distance was 4km and a case of following the coast. Sounded simple enough!

We left, but everything became very tricky in the dark. It was hard to follow the tape and/or footprints, and there were no glow sticks out highlighting the route. During this stage, a huge blister that had formed on my right sole burst, leaving me in absolute agony. I needed the use of Christoph’s poles to move forward for a short while.

After 2 hours of this nonsense - and remember it was only 4k - we were lost in the dark. Christoph and I were bickering a little by this point, and had different theories on which direction we should head in. The only thing we really agreed on was that we should stick together. Eventually, we were able to pick up the trail, and knew we were on our way to the end of this stage. I arrived at the finish, and saw Sarah, Sue and Geoff - a a sight for sore eyes. The previous 48 hours had been so very hard physically and mentally, but I had made it.

Geoff and Sue were absolute legends, and sorted out my hammock for me while I had my feet seen to by Amy. The poor girl had the unfortunate task of washing my feet and smelling my toxic odor. Next, I wanted to get an e-mail to Rachel just to let her know I was OK, so I took care of that.

I then had my dinner, and just sat up chilling around camp. I was absolutely buzzing and full of adrenaline. There was no way I was ready for sleep, and I spent a few hours seeing in other competitors and just reflecting on everything.

There was an element of sadness since I knew this was the last night, and I was getting very used to this way of life. I stayed up with Sarah until just after midnight hoping to see Carl come over the line, but admitted defeat at 12:30 and retired to my hammock.

I lay back, content, and looking forward to the final day - and a beer!

 Saturday – Stage 6, Distance 25km

I was up and about quite early, still wired from the previous day, so decided to get my feet sorted by the medic, Amy, early on. I then had a look for Steve, and we sat for 30 minutes exchanging harrowing tales of the previous 48 hours. It was good to see him, and the fact he’d made the long stage in around 24 hours meant he should be assured of a very deserved top 10 finish.

We found out that the race start was pushed back to around 10-ish, so there was plenty of time to chill out and get ready for the final push. I viewed today as a bit of a fun run. I decided to run as much as I could, since prolonged injury post-race didn’t really matter to me, and I had a plan to eat and drink solid throughout October and into November if necessary. By now, the pack was as light as it was going to get, and after taking a teary farewell picture of my crocs (the wife would be pleased), I was ready to get started. It was a great atmosphere at the start, and after the usual countdown we began.

I got off to a hobble-like start, but before long was in a good running routine. Today was all beach, it was flat, and we had a few water crossings thrown in. I spent most of the run doing my own thing and thinking over the whole event. I had numerous conversations along the way with fellow competitors I was either passing or being overtaken by.

Given that we were on the beach we were exposed to the heat, which again seemed to be in the 40s. That part was tough going, but today the finish was the finish, and a cool beer awaited me. The finish into Santarem came sooner than I thought, and after clambering over a beach wall I suddenly saw the finish line. After a very unexpected wobbly-lip moment, I composed myself and ran for the finishing line.

It was truly amazing to cross the line, and Shirley was on hand to place my clay medal around my neck. Sue and Geoff were there also, and to my right was a packed bar with some very ecstatic competitors who had finished before me. Steve was quickly on hand to congratulate me, and remove my pack for me. It was then time to have a beer with the rest of the jungle family, with who I had shared the most amazing, tough and uplifting experience.

 Post-Mortem - what I would have done more/less of

In my opinion, the way to train for this event is to do plenty of off-road, uneven terrain, and the majority of my training was done this way. I also ventured out into the local woods and found plenty of steep climbs to get stuck into.

I found such climbing to best replicate the type of climbs we would be facing in the jungle. Building in circuits and repeats of these climbing sessions came in very useful.

Getting loads of road-based mileage in does not really do anything to replicate the type of surface you will be running on, so it’s best to get your ankles used to unpredictable terrain.

In the last couple of months, I introduced either longer back to back runs, or running morning and night. Given that I work full time, I didn’t really get to do as much as I wanted, but it was the most efficient use of time to do it this way.

With regards to the pack, I only really started ramping up the pack weight with a month or so to go. Its obviously very important to train with full pack weight, so you can get used to the feel of your pack, test your hydration strategy and be confident you can access everything you need to whilst on the move.

Finally, factoring in building up your core strength is vital since the terrain, ascent and descent will test the limits. I had a very good PT, Ryan Hodgson, leading up to this, and I put a lot of effort into core stability work in the months leading up to it. When I suffered my ankle injury, this core strength definitely saved the day.

With regards to heat I live in Jersey, and we have no heat or humidity chambers of anything like that, So I simply hoped for the best and planned to adopt the tactic of easing myself in.

So, in summary I wouldn’t do less of anything.

With regards to more, I would have started trained with the heavier pack at an earlier stage of the training, and at least 2 months before.

Of course, I would have trained more, but I have work and family commitments, and given that this running gig is a hobby I was pretty happy with how I prepared.

 Kit choices – What worked for me

Below is a summary of my kit list:

Clothes

I used a tried and tested combination of a SS top (X-Bionic), compression shorts (2XU), pants (X-Bionic)m x-socks, calf guards (Compressport), buff, cycling gloves and Inov8 Mudclaws.

The kit was great, and the only relatively unused kit I had were my debris gaiters and sunglasses.

Pack/Hydration/Medical

The OMM32 pack and front pack were tried and tested, and worked for me. I went with front bottles so I could distribute the weight. I also found having front water bottles useful, and more beneficial in managing my fluid intake. I also used soft flasks, and stashed these in the OMM side pockets.

There is a lot of mandatory medical kit. Foot care is essential, so talc and vaseline is necessary in my opinion. Hand sanitiser gel and a strong suncream is also a must.

Camp Kit

You cannot go wrong with the Hennessy Hammock. A great piece of kit. A silk liner is all that is required to keep you warm at night.

You also need something for your feet, so lift flop flops are fine.

Not much is really needed in the way of spare clothes, but a light pair of shorts and a short sleeved top are useful to have.

Food choices

I had a variety of Expedition meals for breakfast and dinner, bringing one of each per day.

The dinners worked, and I went for a variety of curry-based or pasta-based ones.

Porridge didn’t really work for me, although I forced it down. In hindsight I’d probably have taken a couple of porridge options, and added a few more dinners (to have as breakfast) instead.

With regards to in-race nutrition, the best policy for me is variety whilst being comfortable that the snacks you have selected work for you and have been tested.

For me, this is why training with full pack weight and performing long back to back runs is very important. This way you really get to know roughly how many snacks you need to consume, say per hour, and roughly how much distance you cover per hour.

By keeping a training log of these simple stats, you can do a much better job in planning your race nutrition strategy.

 Would I recommend the event?

Absolutely.

I wanted a challenge and I certainly got one. The event is very tough.

However, the whole experience was second to none, the jungle environment fascinating and the camaraderie among the competitors and medics amazing.

 Would I do it again?

I think so, yes!