2024 Dragon's Back Race Report - Part 1/3

Day 0

It started as a normal Sunday for me.  I was up early to prepare for leading the church service at St Peter’s Morley, which included presiding at communion, playing keyboard in worship, and reflecting the story of Daniel in the Lion’s Den.  In that episode, God didn’t keep Daniel away from danger.  God allowed him to come face to face with some scary beats, to feel their breath on his face and the warmth of their bodies close to his skin.  It would not have been a comfortable experience.  Nevertheless, there in the den, God kept the mouths of the lions shut, ensuring Daniel’s safety and the continuation of his great adventure.  The irony was not lost on me.  I was about to be brought face to face with a ferocious beast.  Not a lion, but a dragon.  240 miles down the spine of Wales from Conwy to Cardiff, with 53,800 feet of elevation over 6 days.  This is the Dragon’s Back Race, which is billed as the toughest mountain race in the world.  As I headed home from church I wondered if I was going to be up to the task.  Did I have what it takes?  Overcoming this Dragon would mean staring into the eyes of the beast without flinching.  Failure was certainly an option, but as race director, Shan Ohly, says, true adventure comes when the outcome is uncertain.  Nevertheless, if I was going to have a week away from my family, I was determined to return with a dragon trophy and a story to tell.

After a quick lunch with Abby and our three boys I said my goodbyes and jumped in the car for the 2.5 hour drive from West Yorkshire to North Wales.  After checking in at the budget hotel I headed to Conwy Castle for registration; handed over my drop bags (which passed the weigh-in on the second attempt after the forced removal of a tin of beans and a few cans of coke); then race briefing and an evening meal.  Already the organisation of the whole event was top notch.  After a short drive back to my hotel, I settled down for what was a decent enough night’s sleep.

Not usually a moustache wearer (for visually evident reasons), I attempted to release my inner Zach Miller

Day 1 - Conwy to Nant Gwynant (30 miles, 12,267 ft)

I woke to my 4am alarm at the first time of asking.  Water, porridge, coffee, banana, shower, race kit on, Vaseline*, suncream, check race pack too many times.  I was good to go.

Parking next to the castle while it was still dark, I made my way on foot towards the start line with the sense of anticipation thick in the air as 400 runners converged on this iconic monument.

I entered the starting enclosure about 12 minutes before the 6am start.   And what an enclosure it was!  Runners filled the belly of the castle while spectators lined the ramparts.  Competitor and supporter alike soaked in the sights and sounds as the Welsh male voice choir serenade us with a combination of rousing and reflective pieces.  Shane softly addressed the runners before leaving us “a few moments to quietly prepare”. This was a nice touch.  No hype.  It wasn’t necessary.  Everyone was motivated.  Everyone was focussed.  Everyone knew the enormity of the task at hand.

A few minutes to pray and be thankful to God. 

Then.

3…2…1….

The crowd erupted with cheers and clapping as 400 runners bottlenecked through the starting gantry and snaked their way slowly through the castle.  It was difficult not to get excited, but the adrenalin was thankfully moderated by the steady single file procession up and down stairs, through the decorated underpass and eventually up the road towards the first climb of the day.  I was glad for the steady start as my strategy was to ease myself into the week. 

Training had been less than optimal in the months leading up to the race due to some small injuries including an achillies strain and some ongoing back troubles.  I had successfully completed three 240+ mile events in the preceding 15 months but they had taken their toll mentally and physically.  I had resolved in July and August that I would rather arrive at DBR fresh and excited than overtrained and unmotivated.  The result was that I had done very little running, and no significant hill work in preparation for this event.  Instead, I was trusting in years of cumulative training and hoping that my legs would remember how to run as I eased into the week.

I kept the pace steady for the first 18 miles of the day in which you ascend from sea level to over 1000m at Carnedd Dafydd, before dropping down sharply to the support point at Llyn Ogwen.  Day 1 was the only day I had recced back in June with my friend Joel, which allowed me to pay less attention to navigation and focus more on regular hydration, fuelling, and finding the checkpoints markers. I was settling into the rhythm of the race.

After a short break at the support point to take on rice pudding and restock my supplies from my drop bag, I turned to begin one of the tougher and steeper ascents of the week, Tryfan.  On our recce we had skipped the summit of Tryfan due to time, but I still managed to find a decent line to the top.  As expected, I wasn’t the quickest climber, but I was beginning to find my mountain legs as I slowly but purposefully put one foot above the other.  To my great relief, my lower back wasn’t giving me any issues – I had been quietly worried that spasms might put an early end to this adventure.   All was well.   Finding the path down from Tryfan was less obvious with a myriad of possible routes accross the large boulder field.  I enjoyed plotting my own course through the chaotic landscape.  The scree slopes up Glyder Fach, however, were not so enjoyable. The gradient is sharp and the stoney debris is loose, making this, in my view, one of the toughest climbs of the whole race.  Dropping down into the water point at Pen-Y-Pass I managed to find the correct lines (which had eluded us on the recce day) over slippery grassland bespattered with energy sapping bogs.  Wet feet would be an unavoidable constant throughout the week.

The water point team at Pen-Y-Pass were a welcome sigh. Music blaring, outfits entertaining, energy infectious. I made use of the YHA facilities and bought a Pepsi and a bag of salt and vinegar crisps before heading up to the Snowdon horseshoe with fizzy drink in hand.   

The mandatory route here forces runners to take on the infamous Crib Goch, a perilous knife-edge ridge that leads you to the summit of Wales’ highest peak.  I was really looking forward to this part!  Inevitably I was caught in a bit of a train on the ascent and it made for steady going along the ridge itself.  There were also a couple of teenage lads, rightly, taking their time, and there aren’t many places to pass.  Sadly the clag obscured the spectacular views.

The heavens opened for a short time as I summited Snowdon and found myself traversing the horseshoe just behind Brooke Cox and Katherine Hargreaves.  We also picked up Ritchie Williamson along the way and it was good to spend some time chatting to him and we headed for camp.  I was beginning to feel the effects of limited mountain training with my quads beginning to cramp on the downhills.  That, combined with the slick grass made for a very slow final section.  Brooke and Katherine accelerated off into the distance while Richie and I took it steadily.  I did not enjoy these miles, except for the company.  The final descent to camp is a spectacularly steep slippery slope littered with rocks.  With my quads giving up, I resorted sitting on my bum and letting gravity do the worl.  Just my luck to be met by Gary House - off of Instagram - who posted a lovely video of my ass slide technique. The bum slide would be a regular feature of the week, sometimes intentional, often not.

I crossed the line with Richie feeling thanksfulfor a sucessful day in the mountains and positive about the week ahead. Strangely, I didn't cross paths with Richie again.

Day 1 12:29:19 60th place

There wasn’t time to switch off in camp.  I knew that if I was to get the sleep I wanted each night, I would have to be methodical and disciplined with my “camp admin”.  As I crossed the finish line I was handed my drop bags and shown to tent 46.  Competitors are allocated a tent for the week to share with 7 others.  I was first into camp so got the pick of the sleeping compartments (twin occupancy).  After setting up my sleep gear I slid my sliders on and headed straight to the catering tent to get a big bowl of chips with loads of salt, vinegar and ketchup, and begin the process of rehydrating.  From there I went immediately down to the river to wash.  It was cold, obviously, but I was determined to soak my legs to aid recovery.  It’s not easy to clean muddy legs in ice cold water.  Vital to me at this point was keeping my feet clean for the rest of the evening, so I donned waterproof socks.  I wasn’t bothered about keeping them dry at this stage, simply not letting dirt in and avoiding issues that might bite me later in the week.

I got my camp clothes on and put my day kit in the drying tent before consuming my main meal which I think was chilli con veggies. I was excited to read my Dragon Mail (messages sent from home via the tracking website which comes to you printed on a till receipt), especially from the boys.

"Daddy I really miss you! When will you come home?" "Keep running Mr Moustache"

I was sad that there was no phone signal to call or message them. I didn't yet realise there was wifi! I chatted to a few people around me including Ben Clough, a great guy who I would see lots more of over the coming days.

By the time I got back to my tent it was dark.  By torchlight I met John Lynch, who had come all the way from the East Coast USA, but had unfortunately been timed out on day one.  He was very philosophical about it and planned to continue on the Hatchling**, but it brought home to me how quickly our dragon dreams can be shattered. I also met Darren Allen - top bloke.  I prepped my kit for the next day, packing my food and laying out the things I would need in the morning. The tent gradually filled as I tried to get off to sleep.  I heard my pod buddy Steve Lui arrived late having, unfortunately, been timed out.  I wouldn’t see any of these guys faces in daylight for three days.

Reflecting on the day I was pleased to have come through without obvious pain or injury. My quad cramps were no suprise given my lack of running, but I was confident that my legs would adjust to the expectation over the next few days. For now, my priority was sleep.

Alarm set for 4.30am. Earplugs in.  Feet outside of the sleeping bag to help them dry. Slept like a baby.

...a baby who had to get up twice in the night for a wee.

This is what Crib Goch looked like on my recce day with Joel. Stunning!

*for those interested in the gory details, this was for my Runderwear regions.  I prefer not to put any product on my feet but I do spend some time in the weeks leading up to the race filing my feet to remove dead skin and applying heal crack repair cream to the soles of my feet at night to ensure they are well softened. As you will see, this worked well.

**The Hatchling offers runners who have been timed out an opportunity to continue on the adventure by doing half of the course each day throughout the week. It's a great idea to ensure that a bad day one doesn't ruin a whole week.