My Dragons Back Race Adventure

Ever got that feeling of jumping into the unknown and being completely unsure how you will land?
That’s the feeling I got entering the Dragons Back Race. 6 days of adventuring down the mountainous spine of Wales, 240 miles, around 57,000ft.

This was a big swing with an unknown hit or miss for me. I have been running 6 ish years and only ever DNF’d at an event where I came second overall. This took courage to enter, courage to train for and courage to attempt with the outcome so unknown. You need a good proper why to put yourself through this one and mine had been brewing for a while.

Not many people have a Dad like mine. The thought of 6 days adventuring together down Wales really is a blessing, one I know I won’t get in a hurry again. My Dad has completed the 5 day version of this race and he knew what it took of him back then – the fact that he was coming back for more to do it with me – well, this shows the proper top guy he is.

With our bags packed (over and over again!) we headed to the start with some bouncing bunny enthusiasm! Dad was in fully dragons back bubble swing and I was soaking it in. I did feel a little nervous but much less so than I thought I would – for this was not a race, it was an adventure of a lifetime. But was the training going to be enough? Who knew.

Day 1 – Conwy to Nant Gwynant

Weather was set to biblical. Great. I love the technicality of Snowdonia mountains but I’m not quick on the wet rock and have a bit of a history of ankle rolling. We got to the start line in Conwy castle with family cheering from the castle walls. This was it!! I had dreamt of this day over and over and finally it was here. Red flares sent us on our way out of the castle, the sky was a beautiful red near Conwy mountain and was ok until we started hitting higher ground, then the wind certainly picked up!

Dad and I stayed together and were hiking/running to keep us both in check. Someone had told us that out of the first 40 that get into camp from day 1 – only 10 of those finish the race. This had to be a conservative start.

The Carneddau’s were horrendously cold – Dad was hypothermic but stopping to put on an extra layer was going to cost us getting colder. Keep moving, keep moving.

The descent from Pen y Olwen was one I’ll remember; I’ve never seen it so wet but it was where I met Seems – “Oh you’re Seema!” I said as I saw her name on her bag and remembered a friend Mart talk about her. She had attempted it last year and was back to tame the big dragon. We instantly made friends and her love of the mountains shone through.

We hit the road and saw Rhyds, Rach and the kiddos cheering us on; a quick hug hello and goodbye to the support point. No faffing, admin on point and we started climbing Tryfan – one foot in front of the other, keeping each other going, that was our motto. I took a little tumble off the Bwlch but nothing too severe thank goodness, we kept eating and chatting over the Glyders and down to Pen y Pass. The weather was so bad that the route had been diverted up the Pyg track instead of Crib Goch – bottles refilled we started the climb up to Snowdon. We got chatting to a guy called Greg who I’d met last year marshalling, the time passes fast when you’re with like minded people and certainly sped up climbing the Pyg.

Snowdon ticked – weather was biblical – was now just a case of traversing Y Lliwedd, ticking off Gallt Y Wenallt and a long ol descent down – Dad and I had reccied this several times and it was the least fave bit. Day 1 finish line felt like day 6 finish line for me as Dad and I held hands crossing the finish line with beaming smiles! I couldn’t believe we had got through day 1 cut offs with the weather the way it had been!! Some good food, more admin, alarms set for 4:20am and into our sleeping bags. Reality of the brutal terrain we had run through was heightened when overhead in the darkness was the whirring of a helicopter for people left on the mountains.

Day 2 – Nant Gwynant to Dolgellau

An early alarm and not much sleep – the reality of camping life yet we still had smiles beaming on our faces.

Legs were grateful for a bit of downhill road before starting the long climb up to Cnicht. I felt slow and began to feel the pressure of cut offs – I had no idea what time it was but knew we hadn’t been hanging around so should be ok. We hit the water point in good time and in good spirits, refilled the bottles and off we went!

Some long road before hitting the Rhinog ridge aka hours of desolated rock wilderness. I love it as I have great memories recce-ing with Dad but the remoteness is sometimes a little daunting to me as a mother of 2.

We had recced some pretty epic “shortcuts” which meant we still hit the checkpoints we needed to get to but would often be greeted by “where the hell did you two come from?!” and “I thought you both were about 20mins behind!” I could sense the little smile on Dad’s face!!

Thank goodness for his lines really as I had been maybe talking too much and eating less making the last two hours really very tough. I couldn’t claw this back and had gone too long without food – a 3 mile flat road section to finish was not in the bank and I was finding it hard to run so power walking it was. Was super grateful to Seems who had stayed with us the whole way and we crossed the finish line all together. I remember being pretty sure I looked quite ghastly when James looked at me as if he’d seen a ghost! But there was no energy to care, no energy to refuel and barely enough energy to walk to the tent – I got to bed and dreamed of waking up with a bucket of energy to run again.

Day 3 – Dolgellau to Machynlleth

I was ravenous at breakfast and consumed scrambled egg, hash brown, veggie sausages and a good proportion of beans – I felt starving. Dad was a happier bunny to see me eating and I felt a new lease of life. Hurrah! Cold weather kit implemented – a bigger pack to carry – thank goodness for a big breakfast!! We started the run out of camp and the weather seemed ok – “have they got it wrong?” thought Dad and I.

We climbed up towards the Cadair and coats on, wow, the weather was horrendous! This was a case of keep moving and keep eating for survival, not for the race. Dad got in the shelter to put an extra layer on and his oh so warm gloves – with holes in them!!! Down to Aberglynolwyn water point and greeted by friends Ed, Lenny and Kev, an hour or so under cut off. Some much needed coke in the café and a bacon roll for Dad, we set off with Seema by our side.

Half an hour later and Seems was in a world of pain, I was channelling my strength through her as she battled to overcome some deep hip pain. She continued on with a friend behind as Dad and I carried on up to the windy Tarren G with the smell of Mach getting closer.

A very good kind friend greeted us when I was leaving part of my soul on the trail – Tim you kept me distracted from the start of the aches and I’ll forever be grateful for the company into Mach. A little cry on Sue’s shoulder as we passed her coming into Mach and I knew I needed to eat – Dad and I hit Greggs for some warm food then off to the support point.

A huge highlight of these days was seeing Trish P at every support point each day – I was proper fan girling and she soaked it allllll up! Trish is like a female Dad, boundless energy and turns you in and out of a checkpoint like a snap of the fingers. In and out we went!!

The mental battle was overcome and we were heading on the never ending path towards Pumlumon. It was super blowy on the top but running down the other side we were actually passing people! We ran into camp, hand in hand, just about in daylight and with more energy than yesterday. It was all downhill from here right?

Day 4 – Pumlumon to Rhandirmwyn

The alarm was earlier as camp admin was taking longer on more tired, aching bodies, the medic tent needed a Bernard’s watch to piece us back together. I held back the tears as Dad’s overflowed, we stared at each other’s swollen tired feet perched up on boxes in the medic tent. This is what we came for.

This was the easier day, so everyone kept telling us. A 3 mile route diversion was added but actually the path was rolling and pretty runnable. One problem though; now I couldn’t run. The pain throughout this day was so unbearable I felt sick. I couldn’t pick my right foot up properly without the tongue of my shoe grating into the front arch of my foot.

I promised myself to keep shuffling, that pain is temporary and I’d kick myself if I let Dad down. We made the decision to get to the support point of Day 4 to give ourselves a fighting chance to recover somewhat and make it to Cardiff together. A couple of miles from the support point and I was in absolute agony, barely shuffling and getting nowhere fast.

What was happening? The tears flowed at the support point; I had let Dad down. Dad embraced me with open arms and said to see how we feel by the morning. We got on the hatchling bus (like having salt in a wound) and got back to camp earlier which allowed us some extra time to sort admin.

A visit from Rhyds, the boys and some friends had more tears flowing. Not the ending to day 4 we wanted but we were still in the game.

Day 5 – No Start (Beacons)

The alarms alarmed and on waking so did the pain in my foot. I couldn’t bend it or really weight bear but you know, who needs a foot to get up the mountains anyway?

I had come here for an adventure with my dad and the party was only just beginning. Breakfast in the medic tent and medic Mourag welcomed me in “it’s not looking good” she said as I tried to mask the throbbing pain when she lightly touched my shin bone.

Yeah yeah I thought, I know, the pain has got worse but it’s day 5 which means only two more running days until Cardiff castle. I had come for the pain, I knew it was going to hurt. No journey like this was ever going to be easy. I had read countless blogs about pain management and the pain cave. It was just a mental battle.

She touched my ankle again and the harsh reality pierced through my fairytale vision of Dad and I finishing at Cardiff castle together. “I’ll go and get your Dad” she said. This was all just a bad nightmare.

My legs felt fine and I had built myself to be a bloody tough brick house over the months of training. This could not be happening. I couldn’t let Dad down, not at all. He was breaking himself.

Mourag had told Dad that I couldn’t continue and the moment I then saw him, so many words were spoken through so many tears. My heart poured out, I was so sorry for letting him down. I was sorry that he was the one who had to continue. I was sorry that he had to endure more pain.

We shared tears together on the realisation that our paths had to split before they would be reunited again. Dad took my teddy bear and strapped it to his bag to carry on day 5 – to carry Tash and I over the Beacons.

My body was tended to in A&E but my mind was still very much in the Beacons with Dad. The feeling of the breeze, the sound of his footsteps, him calling out as he reached the summits. I could feel the pain in his stride but his spirit ignited.

To be struck hard by injury and a hospital corridor was like a bat to the face after having no perception of time, the day or anything else for almost 5 days. The time between here and Cardiff castle felt like eternity.

The Finish Line

Every time I imagined Dad crossing that finish line I would cry. What I didn’t expect to gain from this race was a whole new perspective of my Dad ❤️.

Although this man loves running, continuing to fight when you are so knocked down, tired, broken and emotional is bloody tough. He could have stopped at any point but he chose to continue to the finish; for me, for Tasha, for friends that fell along the way.

I love my Dad and I had the best time adventuring with him and seeing him cross that line made me so grateful to have him in my life. Seeing what he went through for us, the man is literally my hero.

Last Reflections

Dragons Back isn’t a race. For most there, it’s an adventure of mental grit, determination and some luck that breaks you down and redefines you.

For me, reflection has been much less about the running itself; it has been about taking on a challenge that was far greater than I could ever perceive and having the mental toolbox to overcome obstacles when I thought I was done. And I’m proud of that.

The DNF? I’m trying not to see it as such, I gave the race everything I had and more. Yes, I “did not finish” but coming back in a brace boot and crutches does not mean I did not try – it’s a jigsaw piece to a bigger puzzle and it’s not where the story ends.

Thank You’s

Wow, so many people to thank! This effort took a team!

From immediate family support to messages from all of you’s! From borrowing kit (thanks Martin and Nikki) to the endless DBR tips for anyone that would talk to me (Nina, Martin etc). For running buddy company (thanks Tracey for our walks) to tech support (Tim).

To the epic Ourea event team for seamless behind the scenes operations. To friends I gained along the way to Cardiff – especially Seems and Greg.

Lastly to just all of you – for the messages of love and support to all of you who believed in me – thank you.