The straw that broke the Dragons Back

“If you could take one source of pain away what would it be? And you can’t just say your feet it needs to be a specific part of a foot”

Danny thinks for a while before responding.

“The inside of my right foot where I have a bunion and its pressing against my shoe – what about you?”

There’s lots to choose from. First thing in the day it would have been the outside of my left foot (I thought I might have broken it at one point) but this has now been superseded by pain on the balls of my feet mainly caused by swelling. If I was forced to choose it would be the right.

Other candidates were the blisters on my heels and insides of my feet, shoulder pain and chaffing caused by my bag, chaffing around my groin, chaffing on my wrists and pain in my right calf.

Its early in day 6 of the infamous Dragons Back Race and were hobbling along very slowly being passed by lots of other people.

We gaze enviously at their ability to run whilst pondering whether we are going to be able to sustain these pain levels (which we’ve put at between a 9 and 10 out of 10) for another 12ish hours and 40 odd miles.

If we aren’t then all of the suffering we’ve endured over the course of the previous 5 days will have been for nothing and for me personally a third failure in this race would be crushing.

Rewind 6 days and were driving to Wales full of excitement and optimism about the race, also with Graham who had seemingly overcame a recent knee injury.

This was to be my third attempt at the race (you can read about my previous journeys here (2019) and here (2021) ), Danny’s and Graham’s first (and first multi day race).

Our excitement was slightly tempered by the impending heatwave forecast – I hoped there wouldn’t be a repeat of the 2021 race. I felt more prepared this time, I had a shedload of electrolyte tablets, more water carrying capacity and was also fitter than in 2021, having survived a late scare 3 weeks previous when I took a rolly poly on a load of rocks descending Snowdon.

After registration we had a quick walk around the city walls before retiring to Graham’s van to hopefully get a good night’s sleep (which I didn’t).

Day 1 Conwy Castle to Nant Gwyant

32 miles ; 12,812ft ; 13h 24m

The start inside Conwy Castle was as atmospheric as ever, complemented by the soaring voices of the Maelgwn Male Voice Choir. Then were off for the ceremonial procession along the castle walls before dropping down onto the road and the race start proper.

We all started running together but after summitting Conwy Mountain it wasn’t long before Danny started pulling away, followed by Graham a few miles later.

I had anticipated this would happen and I resisted the urge to stay with them – I needed to run at a pace that felt comfortable and sustainable. I don’t cope well with heat and suffer particularly badly with cramp so given the forecast of temperatures in the mid 20’s I had adjusted my race plan to be less competitive and focus on a hopefully comfortable race and successful outcome.

The Carneddau were particularly stunning in the early morning sunshine with far reaching views over the coastline and back towards Conwy. A herd of wild horses carelessly grazing complimented the view which was then made more exciting by the sight of an air ambulance soaring majestically above.

The descent from Pen-Ol-Wen is quite steep and a girl in front of me had an interesting strategy of getting her poles down choosing to launch them down the steep rocks instead of stashing them, much to the annoyance of another runner in front who bore the brunt of them in his back.

A quick pit stop at Ogwen and then I set off up Tryfan. By now the sun was out in full force and there was no wind whatsoever, it felt like climbing into a furnace.

Sweat dripped from my elbows while all around me other runners dived for cover behind rocks, vegetation and basically anything which provided a brief respite from the brutal heat.

I maintained a steady pace to the top before the rocky descent to the bwlch and another stifling climb up to Glyder Fach.

Although the terrain is rough underfoot love this area of Wales, its very dramatic with an abundance of sharp rocks, huge boulders and dramatic features. After cresting the summit of Glyder Fawr I took a shorter line down to Pen-Y-Pass than the official route and overtook a number of other runners as a result.

I was greeted by Graham who had sadly retired due to his knee issues flaring up again. He was waiting for a lift back too camp and was hoping to complete the hatchling course.

This is a new introduction this year, it’s basically doing half days and gives people who drop out of the main race for whatever reason a chance to still continue and get something out of the race. I was gutted for him; he’d invested a lot in the race and had been running well.

I filled my bottles (I was carrying 2L of water), grabbed a bottle of lemonade and set off up the next climb to Crib Goch.

For me this is one of the highlights of the race, I love Crib Goch. A steep rocky climb followed by a world class exposed scramble over a knife edge ridge with breath taking views over the Snowdon massif and beyond.

Once on the ridge it was quite busy and progress was slow as a result. I didn’t mind and took the opportunity to soak up the scenery as the visibility was fantastic.

Once off the ridge the previous route used to climb to Carned Ugain on which there used to be a control, but this has now been moved to the head of the Pyg track. When I’d been over 3 weeks previously, we’d reccied a more direct line which traverses around the left hand side bypassing the summit.

I decided to take this again and although I didn’t get the line quite right I still reckon it helped shave off a good few minutes.

The café on the summit of Snowdon was shut but I didn’t need anything and I enjoyed the last section of the horseshoe in the fading sunshine. The last section of the final descent wasn’t quite as enjoyable down a steep muddy and rocky track. I caught up with Peter O’Kane here (who I’d met when we had been over earlier in the year) who’s shoes weren’t coping well on the sloppy ground.

I jogged back into camp over 2 hours slower than in 2019 but to be expected given the conditions. I felt generally ok and I was happy with how the day had panned out.

Danny had a storming day finishing in just over 12 hours.

Over a third of the field sadly didn’t make it to the end of the day highlighting how tough the conditions had been.

Although I’d mainly managed to stave of cramp during the day I had a late attack back in the tent, the worst being in my hands when trying to squeeze out some cheese into my wraps for the next day, I just couldn’t do it.

Out of the 8 people in the tent there were 5 of us left in the full race. Ieuan Belshaw (who I’d also met 3 weeks previously) had a storming day finishing in 10 and a half hours.

Day 2 Nant Gwynant to Dolgellau

38.5 miles ; 11,110ft ; 13h 39m

We all decided to get going as close to 6am as we could to maximise the cooler temperatures before we were melted by the searing heat again. Danny and Graham got away a little earlier as I got stuck in the drop bag queue for about 15 minutes.

In a mandatory pre-race day briefing we were informed that temperatures were due to hit 30 degrees in the valleys and so we’d been given 30 minutes at the support point where the clock would stop and we’d have a chance to rehydrate properly before the 2nd half of the day through the Rhinogs. The end of day cut-off was also extended by 30 minutes to 10:30pm.

A few miles in along the road I spotted Graham coming back in the opposite direction. His knee had flared up again as soon as he started climbing so sadly it was the end of the hatchling and the end of his race. I was gutted for him. He planned to try and get transport back to Conwy and head home from there. I learned later that he’d kindly left his van there for me and Danny and got the train back, what a star.

I ran the next bit of the road and the first climb of the day to Cnicht (the Welsh Matterhorn) with Gary Thwaites, fresh off his V50 win at Lakeland 100 and having a good race so far.

Despite the heat there was quite a strong breeze on the tops which was very welcome in the next section over the Molewyns, but descending down into the valley it disappeared so the water point was very welcome.

It was again very wet underfoot as it had been yesterday, so I had no chance of keeping my feet dry. Although I didn’t have any blisters my feet felt quite sore after yesterdays effort so I’d decided to swap out my Terra Ultras to my more cushioned Altra’s.

They were super comfortable, however my toes were pushing down to the end of the shoes on the steep descents which made them somewhat uncomfortable (I have a bone spur on the top of my right foot and trying my laces too tightly aggravates it).

I had a good rest at the half way support point taking the full 30 minutes, trying to eat and drink as much as I could whilst airing my feet which had been throbbing for a while. Then it was time to set off up the Roman Steps and towards the crux of the day, the Rhinogs.

I really struggled on this section, the terrain is very rugged and steep and the heat was overpowering. It felt like going up Tryfan again but multiple times. I stopped a few times in the shade of some rocks for some brief respite but I felt like I was haemorrhaging time.

Finally through the worse I picked a good line to Diffys to the right of the main ridge which I reckon saved a good 15-20 minutes. I stopped briefly at the top to take in the scene and reflected that this would make a great wild camping spot and the sunset tonight would be epic.

It was then just the case of one more descent, an easy forest track and around 4 miles of road back to camp. Now that the sun was starting to go down and the temperatures had cooled I felt invigorated and set a good pace on this last section finishing strongly (the surprise coke stop just before the road section also helped)

Back at the tent I caught up with Danny and Ieuen. They had spent a good section of the day running together before Ieuen had fallen ill close to the end and dropped back.

Day 3 Dolgellau to Ceredigion

44.5 miles ; 11,493ft ; 14h 53m

Another early start to dodge the sun, Danny and I were both ready at the same time so we set off together just after 6. It wasn’t pre-arranged, but we didn’t leave each other’s side for the rest of the race.

Today marked the end of the rocky stuff and also the longest day at 45 miles. We’d been given an extra hour today because of the ongoing heatwave – 30 minutes at the water point, another 30 minutes at the support point and 11pm cut-off.

Sadly yesterday’s breeze on the tops had dissipated and the sun was once again out in full force by the time we were on the long climb to Cadair Idris. Gary caught us on this section and we briefly chatted before he powered off.

The terrain was now more conducive for running and we took a more direct line to traverse around Craig Las rather than over it, although in retrospect we’d have been better dropping down earlier onto a more defined path rather than straight lining it.

Trish Patterson caught us up on the descent down towards the water point and we exchanged some banter. She’d been having a storming race but was suffering today with nausea.

We briefly stopped at a stream to cool down before moving onto the water point to replenish our bottles.

The heat was overpowering leaving the water point as we in a valley and there was no air at all. This made the next section a real slog, but there was welcome relief from a conveniently placed stream on the next climb up to the Tarrens.

It was at this point that we caught up with Danny’s twin Jody who we chatted and ran with for a bit.

Tarren y Gesail is an out and back, and we saw Trish again descending as we were going up. She was breathing heavily and was visibly suffering - I wondered what demons she was fighting with she was obviously pushing through some severe discomfort.

The next few miles through forest provided a welcome respite from the sun and finally we were running into Macelneith and the first shops since leaving Conwy where we stocked up with cold drinks and ice lollies.

At the support point we took the opportunity of the extra 30 minutes to perform some footcare. My feet were soaking and sore so I peeled off all the soggy tape, talced them and whacked some gurney goo on which I’d hoped would stave off any maceration and blisters.

We were leaving just as the cut-off for entry into the checkpoint was approaching and there were a few dramatic sprints to the line to make it in time including Ieuen who immediately collapsed.

I felt lethargic on leaving Mac, but there was a definite softening of the terrain now with the landscape taking on a gentler nature.

That was until the last climb of the day up to Pumlumon Fawr, the start of which involved some energy sapping heather and bog bashing which seemed to go on forever followed by a stiff climb.

The sun was setting as we crested the summit so it was headtorch time for the last 4 miles downhill to overnight camp and a surprise Ice cream (of which Danny dropped).

Danny had some angry blisters for which he went off the medical tent to get dressed when we were back to camp.

I also had a number of blisters, the worst of on the insides of my heels and the balls of my feet were really swollen and sore.

Ieuen had made it out of the support point in time but sadly had been pulled out of the race at the reservoir before Pumlumon Fawr. After finishing day 1 he’d been unable to eat and never really recovered – I was impressed on how hard he’d pushed himself and was gutted for him.

This meant that there were only now 3 of us left in the full race. Me, Danny and a Japanese lad called Fumi. Fumi didn’t have much patter but he was a top snorer, in fact I would go as far to say it was his superpower. He managed to sleep and snore through anything no matter how much noise was going on in the tent (much to my annoyance when I was trying to sleep).

Day 4 Through the Elan Valley

43.3 miles ; 7,415ft ; 13h 32m

Instead of performing our foot care routines in the darkness of the tent potentially disturbing everyone else Danny had a good idea to utilise the bean bags in the marquee. This was to become a regular routine for the rest of the race with fellow foot sufferers Peter, and Jess Richardson. We’d set an alarm for 3:45 although I was already awake before then, over the course of the race I only managed a few hours sleep each night.

Today’s forecast was again for temperatures in the 30’s but thankfully overcast skies which were very welcome. It was also an easier day with more forgiving terrain and no big climbs to negotiate. It was still however 43 miles so there was no room for complacency.

We set out at around 6:15 straight into a climb and then a load of boggy ground, dashing our faint hopes of keeping our feet dry.

This was followed by an “interesting” steep descent through a forest with lots of windblown trees and bog to negotiate. I got lashed in the face by a load of brambles which nearly took my nose off. Well maybe a slight exaggeration there but it certainly gave me a nasty scratch.

My feet were becoming increasingly painful, mainly due to swelling but I was still able to run albeit at a much-reduced pace which was good as the next miles involved some runnable terrain, a combination oof road, forest track and rolling hills.

The overcast skies definitely helped and I felt quite good running down into the support point in the Elan Valley. It was nice to see Kirsten Beard there, I’d met her whilst volunteering on the summer spine earlier in the year and she’d came out to offer encouragement.

We took the full 30 minutes at the support point; I took the opportunity to air my feet but wasn’t brave enough to take my socks off for the fear of what may be lurking underneath.

The good feeling I’d had running into the checkpoint didn’t last and on departing I felt lethargic again for the next few hours. Maybe we stopped for too long and a shorter stop would have been better to try and maintain some momentum.

Danny was obviously jealous from the attention I was getting from my bleeding nose so he developed a nose bleed himself in a bid to out bleed me.

We pushed on to the highest point of the day at Dragon Fawr and then down to the water point on the road which was frustratingly good running that we were unable to take advantage of due to the pain in our feet.

We briefly left the road for one more stretch of bog trotting and tussocky grass in which Danny did his best to perform a disappearing act in some deep mud which It took quite an effort to pull him out of.

Then there was the small matter of 10k of tarmac to negotiate to the end of the day. We decided that it was just as painful to walk as it was to run so we tried to run as much of it as we could.

By the way, when I say run, I don’t really mean run. Not proper running when you feel like you’re actually moving well and making progress. I mean awkward shuffling barely faster than a walk.

We did however manage to make it back to camp in daylight this time having been out for over 13 hours.

Once in camp you would like to think that we would be able to relax and contemplate on a successful days running. I would love it to be like that, but in reality there’s no relaxation to be had. Once escorted to your tent you must decant your overnight bag which by this time in the race smells like decanting a chemical weapon.

Food must be eaten, sleeping area prepared, blisters drained but not dressed (that is a pleasure to be savoured the following morning). Running bag must be repacked and then optionally a wash in the nearest stream.

I visualised the conversation I might have with someone describing my day.

“Wow you ran 44 miles through a heatwave with knackered feet after running 3 days previously and getting little sleep, what did you do when you finished? Have a nice shower followed by a slap up 3 course meal in a flashy restaurant?”

“Well no, actually I hobbled down a steep bank covered in nettles to a midge infested stream in the dark where I attempted to wash the days sweat and grime off myself whilst trying not to fall over on the rocky stream bed.”

“I then hobbled back to a stinking tent which I was sharing with 7 other people where I popped load of blisters before setting an alarm for 3:45 so I could get up and do it all again.”

Welcome to camp life.

Danny’s feet were a real mess. They were massively macerated which is highly painful in its own right, but some of the folds had ripped open leading to open wounds, worst ones under his little toe and between his big and second toes.

Day 5 Into Bannau Brycheiniog National Park

45.7miles ; 10,958ft ; 15h 37m

Another 3:45 alarm, another mammoth feet taping session and a 6:05am start.

Today was the crux of the race – 45 miles and some whacking hills to get over with another boiling hot day forecast.

The day started off with a significant amount of road on which we’d have to try and make progress to make the cut-off of 2:45 at the support point a few hills into the Brecon Beacons. We set a target of 5 miles an hour which was about as fast as our aching feet would allow.

Many other runners had decided to set off and for the first time since leaving Conwy it felt like a race again. Spirits were high and there was some good banter on this section, especially as the sun had yet to rise.

Upon arriving in the small town of Llandovery we made an obligatory stop at the bakery where I picked up a steak bake, sausage roll and 2 bottles of pop one of which I downed immediately.

Danny was setting a good pace and it wasn’t long before we arrived at Usk Reservoir. It was at this point that my right calf started to niggle, probably because of my gait to try and avoid putting pressure on the blisters on my heels.

Peter Hutchinson was waiting at the end of the dam and shouted some encouragement as I passed. I’d shared a tent with Peter during the 2021 race and we’d kept in touch since.

We then left the shade of the forest and began the first climb of the day up to Fan Brycheinog.

The sun was now out in full force and the absence of a breeze. made the climb slow and laboured. Everyone else around us was also in the same boat and suffering. In fact it would have been nice to be in a boat as that would have meant water of which there was none.

This was also the start of the end for me in the 2019 race – the point at which I started to feel really bad. I tried to put all thoughts of that out of my mind.

We finally crested the summit and after a steep descent on the other side I spotted the most wonderful thing in the world – a lake. Danny was straight in and I quickly followed.

One more climb and we were at the support point, thankfully in plenty time. We had a relatively quick turnaround and set off up the next lung busting climb, and it was another big one, again made more difficult by the stifling conditions.

Peter was again on the top of the next hill with a cowbell, it was good to see him again and we briefly chatted before I ran down the other side.

After a few more hills and dips in streams we arrived at the water point at the Storey Arms where we took the opportunity of some fizzy pop and a brief rest.

We bumped into Peter O’Kane again and set off up the climb to Pen-Y-Fan together, the last big climb of the day and indeed the race.

It wasn’t a pleasant climb and went on forever, my feet were in agony having deteriorated throughout the day and I felt exhausted in the heat - it was a war of attrition. The only saving grace was that visibility was great and I was able to take in the breath-taking scenery which eluded me when I was here during the 2021 race.

A few more climbs and the sun began to set as we reached the end of the ridge. It was truly spectacular and despite how bad I felt I stopped on a few occasions to glance back and appreciate the view, one of which most people will never experience.

It was headtorch time again as we descended from the ridge onto some initially nice grassy terrain which soon turned into a mud/root fest through a forest. It was a truly awful way to end the day but we finally limped into camp at around 9-45pm utterly exhausted.

It should have been a moment of elation. The hardest day of the race complete with the formality of a relaxed run into the castle to look forward to the following day.

In reality II was totally beat up, I was struggling to eat and II was concerned with how much pain my feet were in and whether I’d even be able to walk tomorrow.

There was no energy for any pre last day prep so we both collapsed into our sleeping bags utterly spent.

Day 6 To Cardiff Castle

41.2 miles ; 4,390ft ; 12h 43m

Another 3:45 alarm and off we went to the bean bags for our taping ritual. I had developed some hefty blisters on my heels and forefoot which needed taping but the main problem was swelling, especially on the balls of my feet, every step was agony.

Danny’s feet looked truly awful. Some of the blister on his feet were now open wounds and were showing early signs of infection. I didn’t vocalise this to him as I didn’t see any point. It would just potentially demoralise/worry him and there is no way he wasn’t getting to that castle. I think that just goes to show what a true friend I am to him – instead of giving him an easy way out of the pain and end to the suffering I kept him in the pain cave for another 13 hours.

We departed camp at 6:40 initially along a flat road followed by a steady climb. Normally I get some brief respite at the beginning of a new day from the pain in my feet but an hour in and nothing had improved since the previous night, if anything it had gotten worse.

Every step was agony, I just couldn’t find any type of gait that provided anyrespite and the paracetamols we had been popping like sweets for the last few days were failing to take the edge off.

In addition to this my calf was still hurting, as were my shoulders as my race vest didn’t have any padding and I was carrying at least 2 litres of water plus all my kit and food.

This was the lowest point of the race for me, I was on the limit of my pain capacity. If it had notched up one more level then I don’t think I’d have been physically capable of movement. We still had nearly 40 miles left and it was going to be a death march.

If I gave up now all this pain and suffering would have been for nothing. All the many bad times I’d pushed though. I’d have to face the prospect of coming back next year for another go or give it up as a bad job and forever live with the failure.

That was simply not an option, as long as I could physically move then I would and only stop if someone physically removed me from the course no matter how long it took. Well, as long as it didn’t take any longer than 11pm.

I think this is where experience really comes into it. I’ve been n similar situations many times both in races and training runs where I’ve had to push through pain and exhaustion for seemingly endless periods of time. It’s far from pleasant but I know I can do it.

Being with Danny helped, especially as he was in the same dark place I was (although I could have done with a real dark place to provide some respite from the sun).

Of all the years I’ve known Danny I’ve never seen him broken and I’ve shared many miles with him in races, rounds and other challenges. He’s always incessantly happy and chatty, but there were long periods in the race where there was no chat going on and he certainly wasn’t happy. There were times I looked into his eyes and there was nothing there just an empty gaze. I probably looked the same.

As we ran Danny reflected about our position in the race which neither of us expected to be in. “were not bad runners really you know”

That is though the nature of multi day events. They strip you bare and reveal your inner soul. Sometimes everything clicks and falls into place, you have a good race and realise your potential but that’s rarely the case. There is always a problem to solve its not just about how fast you can run. It’s how well can you cope with sleep deprivation and exhaustion. How well can you cope with camp life and being cooped up with a bunch of strangers for a week. How well can you cope with debilitating pain for hours and hours on end.

Reaching the Taff trail provided a welcome change in terrain, and we were able to make a little faster progress. My limping power walking combined with Danny’s awkward shuffling must have looked comical to any bystanders.

Upon reaching Merthyr Tydfil we were diverted through a number of roads culminating in a Co-Op where we gorged on ice-cream, coke and other snacks and I did my best to nearly leave my poles there.

Then it was on to the 2nd climb of the day – nothing in comparison to what we had previously in the race but still hard going and stifling in the heat. This was followed by another frustratingly runnable section on which we were unable to run down to the support point.

Then there was another long drag which led onto a picturesque fell with wide reaching views back towards the Beacons. Picturesque that is apart from the disgraceful amount of litter by the side of the trail, it went on for miles.

One last small climb and then we had an easy run down to the water point which also happened to be at a pub! Ieuen was here to wish us well for the final push to the end, it was good to see him and nice of him to come out.

Then it was back onto the Taff trail for the final miles which traverse through a series of parks and scenic forest trails. It wasn’t long before we were in Bute Park just outside the Castle.

“Should we be running now” asked Danny

“Damn right we should be”

And we did

We “ran” those final yards through the park and into the Castle to be met by a cacophony of noise, cheering spectators and high five seeking kids.

I felt really emotional to run into the castle and to hear my name being announced on the tanoy accompanied by the fact that it was third time lucky. I hadn’t let myself believe that I was going to finish it until the very last minute and now it was a reality. We were greeted and hugged by lots of people at the end – Steve Chamberlain, Nikki Sommers, Barry Hirons and Ieuen who were all in the crowd to cheer us in.

Out of the 298 starters 97 completed the full race (29%) and 147 the hatchling. That figure would have been significantly less if it wasn’t for the extended cut-off times and I drew some comfort that we had always been inside the original times.

These feet aren’t made for walking

I’ve done a fair few multi-day races and challenges now and this is by far the worst I’ve ever suffered with my feet. Why?

I’d done all the pre-work – regularly moisturising them and filing down the hard skin and they’d held up well at Lakeland 100, 5 weeks earlier.

Upon reflection I have a few thoughts.

1. Heat causes swelling and there was certainly plenty of it over the course of the week. No matter how much I drank it was a constant battle to stay hydrated.
2. Longer time on feet = less recovery time, I was out each day for a lot longer than I’d anticipated
3. Wet conditions underfoot, especially the first 4 days made keeping my feet dry impossible. Taping worked to an extent but it doesn’t stick to your feet forever

Ultimately there is more than one foot care strategy and its a constant learning process no matter how experienced you are

Revisiting the why

Out of all the challenges I’ve taken on my motivation to finish this one was by far the strongest. Whenever a challenge isn’t realised people will offer kind words of consolation :

“it’s only a race” “the mountains will always be there” “there’s always next year”

Yes the mountains will always be there but I won’t be. There will come a time in the future (hopefully far into the future) where I’m no longer able to do these things. When that time comes will I look back and reflect on my (perceived) failures and be happy with the decisions I’ve made? Could I have finished something I’d decided to quit?

If I’ve given something my all, pushed myself to my absolute limits and failed (like the first Dragons Back) then yes I’d be not bee happy but I‘d feel comfortable with my decision, although in that case it wasn’t really a decision I basically collapsed on the hill.

But if I’ve made a decision to quit when I could have still carried on, no matter in how much pain or discomfort, then no I just couldn’t live with that, especially if it was something I’d tried a multiple of times.

For me the Dragons Back is much more than a race. It’s taking on an epic adventure of which there is a high chance of failure.

It’s about testing yourself against a massive challenge, coming excruciatingly close to the end, trying and failing again, coming back for a third shot and pushing through mind numbing pain and exhaustion and finally succeeding.

I love this race and I will likely run it again in the future, but for now I can close this chapter and move on to other challenges, hopefully Tor Des Geants next year if I can get through the ballot.

• Running