RACE REPORT
BENNACHIE
ULTRA 2026
SO MUCH FOR AN EASY TRAINING RUN
.
RACE REPORT
BENNACHIE ULTRA 2026
SO MUCH FOR AN EASY TRAINING RUN
.
5th overall. 3rd in my category. 05:08:22.
A new PB, a pair of shoes that surprised me, and legs that spent the second half threatening to go on strike.
I almost didn’t turn up for this year’s Bennachie Ultra.
With no real training plan in the build-up, I was lacking a bit of confidence and, if I’m honest, the grit to really commit to another race. After the shambles of May, I wasn’t sure how much I had left in the tank.
Bennachie has always been different, though. It’s my favourite event of the year, on some of my favourite trails, and I wasn’t about to miss out on the soup at the end.
The plan was simple: use it as a training run for my November project, stick to my heart-rate zones, come out the other end relatively fresh and enjoy the day.
For the fourth year running, that plan went out the window before I’d even hit the Turnpike Trail.
5th overall. 3rd in my category. 05:08:22.
A new PB, a pair of shoes that surprised me, and legs that spent the second half threatening to go on strike.
I almost didn’t turn up for this year’s Bennachie Ultra.
With no real training plan in the build-up, I was lacking a bit of confidence and, if I’m honest, the grit to really commit to another race. After the shambles of May, I wasn’t sure how much I had left in the tank.
Bennachie has always been different, though. It’s my favourite event of the year, on some of my favourite trails, and I wasn’t about to miss out on the soup at the end.
The plan was simple: use it as a training run for my November project, stick to my heart-rate zones, come out the other end relatively fresh and enjoy the day.
For the fourth year running, that plan went out the window before I’d even hit the Turnpike Trail.
Race morning: the usual routine
Race morning started with the usual challenge of arriving early enough to find a parking space. It never ceases to amaze me where people manage to squeeze their cars at 7:30 am. Spaces appear where I swear there aren’t any, and people get remarkably creative when a race start is approaching.
Registration was straightforward, as always. Name, bib, and away you go.
I prefer to get ready in the car rather than rushing around at home. It gives me time to sort my kit, get some fluids down my neck and take everything at my own pace.
The only slightly odd part of the morning is the briefing. It starts at 7:45 am, lasts about five minutes, and then everyone stands around getting cold while waiting for the start. I’ve often wondered whether moving the briefing to 7:55 and going straight into the race would make more sense. On the other hand, it gives everyone a chance to chat.
Personally, I’d rather just get moving.
Conditions were pretty good. It was mostly dry, with the occasional bit of drizzle, decent visibility and temperatures that felt ideal for running. The exposed tops were windy, as always. I don’t think I’ve ever been up Oxen Craig without a bit of wind trying to push me about.
There was also someone playing a fiddle or violin near the back of the Bennachie car park. It was an unexpected touch, but a good one. There seemed to be more support around the course this year, with people getting involved and making a day of it. It all added to the atmosphere.
Race morning: the usual routine
Race morning started with the usual challenge of arriving early enough to find a parking space. It never ceases to amaze me where people manage to squeeze their cars at 7:30 am. Spaces appear where I swear there aren’t any, and people get remarkably creative when a race start is approaching.
Registration was straightforward, as always. Name, bib, and away you go.
I prefer to get ready in the car rather than rushing around at home. It gives me time to sort my kit, get some fluids down my neck and take everything at my own pace.
The only slightly odd part of the morning is the briefing. It starts at 7:45 am, lasts about five minutes, and then everyone stands around getting cold while waiting for the start. I’ve often wondered whether moving the briefing to 7:55 and going straight into the race would make more sense. On the other hand, it gives everyone a chance to chat.
Personally, I’d rather just get moving.
Conditions were pretty good. It was mostly dry, with the occasional bit of drizzle, decent visibility and temperatures that felt ideal for running. The exposed tops were windy, as always. I don’t think I’ve ever been up Oxen Craig without a bit of wind trying to push me about.
There was also someone playing a fiddle or violin near the back of the Bennachie car park. It was an unexpected touch, but a good one. There seemed to be more support around the course this year, with people getting involved and making a day of it. It all added to the atmosphere.
The plan lasted 30 seconds
The race starts with a lovely, relatively easy run along the Turnpike Trail. I settled in, and things felt good. The Mount to Coast M1s felt responsive underfoot, and I was enjoying the early kilometres.
The back of Bennachie is relatively flat, with some uphill fire roads and a short trail section linking them together. It’s generally easy running, and I cruised through, feeling like I’d found my rhythm.
There was just one problem: my heart rate wasn’t coming down.
My pace felt manageable, but the numbers on my watch suggested I was already working harder than planned. I tried to keep things under control, but I could feel myself dipping in and out of Zone 3. I threw a few extra Jelly Babies down my neck and cracked on.
Regardless, I was still feeling pretty fresh by the time we hit the descent onto the Lord’s Throat.
The Lord’s Throat is the only road section of the race and a good opportunity to open the legs. The M1s cruised along nicely, and my gamble to wear them was already paying off. Up to the bag drop at Millstone, they were doing exactly what I’d hoped: making the miles feel easier than they might have in the Prodigio Pros.
The sensible option would probably have been to ease off and get my heart rate under control. Instead, I decided to see how far I could push it and deal with the consequences later.
By the time I reached the Millstone drop, the race was flying by. I stopped briefly to sort a few things out, losing some time and a few places in the process, but that little pause confirmed something I’d already suspected: I was racing.
The plan to keep my ego in check had disappeared. The fun ego had taken over, and I was quite happy to let it happen.
The plan lasted 30 seconds
The race starts with a lovely, relatively easy run along the Turnpike Trail. I settled in, and things felt good. The Mount to Coast M1s felt responsive underfoot, and I was enjoying the early kilometres.
The back of Bennachie is relatively flat, with some uphill fire roads and a short trail section linking them together. It’s generally easy running, and I cruised through, feeling like I’d found my rhythm.
There was just one problem: my heart rate wasn’t coming down.
My pace felt manageable, but the numbers on my watch suggested I was already working harder than planned. I tried to keep things under control, but I could feel myself dipping in and out of Zone 3. I threw a few extra Jelly Babies down my neck and cracked on.
Regardless, I was still feeling pretty fresh by the time we hit the descent onto the Lord’s Throat.
The Lord’s Throat is the only road section of the race and a good opportunity to open the legs. The M1s cruised along nicely, and my gamble to wear them was already paying off. Up to the bag drop at Millstone, they were doing exactly what I’d hoped: making the miles feel easier than they might have in the Prodigio Pros.
The sensible option would probably have been to ease off and get my heart rate under control. Instead, I decided to see how far I could push it and deal with the consequences later.
By the time I reached the Millstone drop, the race was flying by. I stopped briefly to sort a few things out, losing some time and a few places in the process, but that little pause confirmed something I’d already suspected: I was racing.
The plan to keep my ego in check had disappeared. The fun ego had taken over, and I was quite happy to let it happen..
A different route and an unexpected pacer
The climb up Millstone was manageable, and then came the first surprise of the day.
This year, the route had changed. Rather than taking the bike trail down from Millstone, we descended all the way along the path before climbing back up a different route.
I hadn’t even realised that path existed. I really should look at the GPX before race day.
It turned out to be a lovely change: a gradual, runnable climb that I genuinely enjoyed. It broke up the familiar route and made things feel fresh, even after four years of running the event.
Somewhere along this section, I found myself following a runner who was carrying me along the trails. I didn’t know it at the time, but she was the second-place woman.
She had a great rhythm, and I tucked in behind her, happy to let her set the pace. I wasn’t about to overtake someone who was doing such a good job of pulling me along.
When we reached the fire road, I decided to return the favour and push the pace. I ended up pulling away, and we headed towards the zigzags.
That was where the day would really be decided.
A different route and an unexpected pacer
The climb up Millstone was manageable, and then came the first surprise of the day.
This year, the route had changed. Rather than taking the bike trail down from Millstone, we descended all the way along the path before climbing back up a different route.
I hadn’t even realised that path existed. I really should look at the GPX before race day.
It turned out to be a lovely change: a gradual, runnable climb that I genuinely enjoyed. It broke up the familiar route and made things feel fresh, even after four years of running the event.
Somewhere along this section, I found myself following a runner who was carrying me along the trails. I didn’t know it at the time, but she was the second-place woman.
She had a great rhythm, and I tucked in behind her, happy to let her set the pace. I wasn’t about to overtake someone who was doing such a good job of pulling me along.
When we reached the fire road, I decided to return the favour and push the pace. I ended up pulling away, and we headed towards the zigzags.
That was where the day would really be decided.
The zigzags: time to find out if I’d messed up
I’d passed a couple of runners on the approach, and I knew the zigzags were going to be a test. If I could run them, there was a chance I’d got away with the aggressive start. If I couldn’t, I might have spent the first half of the race digging a hole I couldn’t get out of.
I hit the bottom of the climb, checked my heart rate and saw low Zone 3.
Right. Let go.
I could see another runner ahead, another woman, and I started chasing her down. These women were absolute beasts on the trails. I caught her towards the top of the zigzags and reached the aid station just before she did.
To my surprise, there was more than water waiting for us. I knew Highland Fuel Nutrition’s Bare Fuel would be available, but there was also cola and a few other options.
I didn’t hang about to inspect the menu. I grabbed some Bare Fuel and Coke, crammed my flasks back into the vest and got moving.
As I was leaving, I heard a marshal tell the woman behind me, “You’re first female, by the way.”
I was genuinely delighted for her. I’d never run alongside the leading woman in a race before, and she seemed just as surprised to hear it.
She set off up the trail, and I followed a few minutes later.
It didn’t take long to catch her again. The trail gets steep enough that power hiking is the sensible option, and we had a brief chat as we worked our way up.
When we reached the Gordon Way, the terrain flattened out. I told her to leave me behind and not let me slow her down.
She promptly destroyed the trail again, and I struggled to keep up.
The zigzags: time to find out if I’d messed up
I’d passed a couple of runners on the approach, and I knew the zigzags were going to be a test. If I could run them, there was a chance I’d got away with the aggressive start. If I couldn’t, I might have spent the first half of the race digging a hole I couldn’t get out of.
I hit the bottom of the climb, checked my heart rate and saw low Zone 3.
Right. Let go.
I could see another runner ahead, another woman, and I started chasing her down. These women were absolute beasts on the trails. I caught her towards the top of the zigzags and reached the aid station just before she did.
To my surprise, there was more than water waiting for us. I knew Highland Fuel Nutrition’s Bare Fuel would be available, but there was also cola and a few other options.
I didn’t hang about to inspect the menu. I grabbed some Bare Fuel and Coke, crammed my flasks back into the vest and got moving.
As I was leaving, I heard a marshal tell the woman behind me, “You’re first female, by the way.”
I was genuinely delighted for her. I’d never run alongside the leading woman in a race before, and she seemed just as surprised to hear it.
She set off up the trail, and I followed a few minutes later.
It didn’t take long to catch her again. The trail gets steep enough that power hiking is the sensible option, and we had a brief chat as we worked our way up.
When we reached the Gordon Way, the terrain flattened out. I told her to leave me behind and not let me slow her down.
She promptly destroyed the trail again, and I struggled to keep up.
When the cramps started
Somewhere around this point, the cramps arrived.
At first, they were manageable. I’d feel a muscle start to tighten, stop and stretch it out, then get moving again. But the problem kept returning, and it seemed as though every muscle in my legs wanted a turn.
I’d close the gap, stop to stretch, then repeat the process. It was becoming a miserable routine.
By the time we doubled back and headed towards Oxen Craig, the cramping was becoming the norm. I even developed a strange, exaggerated stride that seemed to stretch things out just enough to keep running before the pain became unbearable.
It wasn’t a particularly elegant solution, but it was working.
The climb towards Oxen Craig eventually proved too much, and I moved ahead of the leading woman. I told her that if I was getting in her way, she should just say so. The last thing I wanted was to interfere with her race.
I never saw her again.
There was another runner ahead, though. Target acquired.
As we approached the top of Oxen Craig, I was closing in. Then, just as I reached the summit, the cramps hit again.
I folded over.
This time, I had to stop completely.
I remember wondering how long I could keep doing this. Was it worth it? Should I ease off and accept that the day wasn’t going to plan?
But there was still something pulling me forward. I wanted to catch the next runner. I wanted to see what I could do.
Last year, I’d finished 13th in 5:10. I knew I was on track to match that time, but I couldn’t help wondering whether I could beat it. Could a top ten be possible?
I decided I wasn’t leaving it to chance.
When the cramps started
Somewhere around this point, the cramps arrived.
At first, they were manageable. I’d feel a muscle start to tighten, stop and stretch it out, then get moving again. But the problem kept returning, and it seemed as though every muscle in my legs wanted a turn.
I’d close the gap, stop to stretch, then repeat the process. It was becoming a miserable routine.
By the time we doubled back and headed towards Oxen Craig, the cramping was becoming the norm. I even developed a strange, exaggerated stride that seemed to stretch things out just enough to keep running before the pain became unbearable.
It wasn’t a particularly elegant solution, but it was working.
The climb towards Oxen Craig eventually proved too much, and I moved ahead of the leading woman. I told her that if I was getting in her way, she should just say so. The last thing I wanted was to interfere with her race.
I never saw her again.
There was another runner ahead, though. Target acquired.
As we approached the top of Oxen Craig, I was closing in. Then, just as I reached the summit, the cramps hit again.
I folded over.
This time, I had to stop completely.
I remember wondering how long I could keep doing this. Was it worth it? Should I ease off and accept that the day wasn’t going to plan?
But there was still something pulling me forward. I wanted to catch the next runner. I wanted to see what I could do.
Last year, I’d finished 13th in 5:10. I knew I was on track to match that time, but I couldn’t help wondering whether I could beat it. Could a top ten be possible?
I decided I wasn’t leaving it to chance.
chasing the next runner
The descents seemed to be kinder to my legs than the climbs and flatter sections. Once I got off Oxen Craig, I started eating up the trail.
The runner ahead didn’t seem to have the same pace available on the downhill, and I flew past him.
I didn’t dare look back.
I knew the flatter sections were coming, and I needed to put as much distance between us as possible.
On the Sheduie section, I was forced to stop and stretch again. I bent over, put my head between my legs and pulled at my hamstrings as much as I dared.
Upside down, I could see the other runner a few hundred metres behind me.
I’m not letting this one go.
The next climb towards Craigshannoch was all about getting over the top and reaching the descent. As soon as I crested it, I pulled the trigger and blasted towards Mither Tap.
I pushed the running for as long as I could before the inevitable power hike. By the time I started walking, I was further up the hill than I’d expected.
My quads were visibly tensing with every step, threatening to cramp again, but they weren’t stopping me completely.
I waved to the marshals at the top, thanked them for the pain, and headed out along the Don View Trail before doubling back towards Oxen Craig.
The race was beginning to feel like a series of small battles. Get to the next hill. Get over the top. Reach the descent. Keep moving.
Don’t look back.
chasing the next runner
The descents seemed to be kinder to my legs than the climbs and flatter sections. Once I got off Oxen Craig, I started eating up the trail.
The runner ahead didn’t seem to have the same pace available on the downhill, and I flew past him.
I didn’t dare look back.
I knew the flatter sections were coming, and I needed to put as much distance between us as possible.
On the Sheduie section, I was forced to stop and stretch again. I bent over, put my head between my legs and pulled at my hamstrings as much as I dared.
Upside down, I could see the other runner a few hundred metres behind me.
I’m not letting this one go.
The next climb towards Craigshannoch was all about getting over the top and reaching the descent. As soon as I crested it, I pulled the trigger and blasted towards Mither Tap.
I pushed the running for as long as I could before the inevitable power hike. By the time I started walking, I was further up the hill than I’d expected.
My quads were visibly tensing with every step, threatening to cramp again, but they weren’t stopping me completely.
I waved to the marshals at the top, thanked them for the pain, and headed out along the Don View Trail before doubling back towards Oxen Craig.
The race was beginning to feel like a series of small battles. Get to the next hill. Get over the top. Reach the descent. Keep moving.
Don’t look back.
The final climb
There’s a short descent off Mither Tap before you climb again, and this is hands down the worst uphill of the entire day.
The tank was empty. The cramps felt like shotgun wounds to the backs of my legs, and mentally this was the grittiest part of the race.
The saving grace was knowing that once you hit Oxen Craig, you’re on the homeward stretch. It’s all downhill from there.
I had a few conversations with myself on that climb and managed to iron out some lingering issues in my head. Whatever else was going on, I was going to keep pushing.
I allowed myself a quick glance back. There was a small speck of orange in the distance.
Right. Let’s go.
Once you hit the Oxen Craig sign, you know it’s game on. Roughly five kilometres to the finish, and time to empty whatever was left in the tank.
As soon as I hit the Gordon Way, I was like a man possessed. I couldn’t see anyone ahead, and I was determined to keep it that way.
I caught absolutely nobody on the descent. I was surprised there wasn’t anyone nimbly picking their way down the trail ahead, but I was having too much fun to worry about it.
Then, as I reached the trails near the centre, a gentleman called out:
“Nice work, mate. Well done — you’re in fifth place!”
My heart sank.
Fifth?
I’d been hoping for a top ten. I genuinely wondered whether I’d heard him correctly. No wonder I hadn’t seen anyone ahead of me.
I wasn’t about to question it, though.
I gunned it.
The final stretch became a full-blown sprint for the line, with the pace dropping below four minutes per kilometre. After hours of stopping to stretch my legs, I was suddenly running as hard as I could.
The final climb
There’s a short descent off Mither Tap before you climb again, and this is hands down the worst uphill of the entire day.
The tank was empty. The cramps felt like shotgun wounds to the backs of my legs, and mentally this was the grittiest part of the race.
The saving grace was knowing that once you hit Oxen Craig, you’re on the homeward stretch. It’s all downhill from there.
I had a few conversations with myself on that climb and managed to iron out some lingering issues in my head. Whatever else was going on, I was going to keep pushing.
I allowed myself a quick glance back. There was a small speck of orange in the distance.
Right. Let’s go.
Once you hit the Oxen Craig sign, you know it’s game on. Roughly five kilometres to the finish, and time to empty whatever was left in the tank.
As soon as I hit the Gordon Way, I was like a man possessed. I couldn’t see anyone ahead, and I was determined to keep it that way.
I caught absolutely nobody on the descent. I was surprised there wasn’t anyone nimbly picking their way down the trail ahead, but I was having too much fun to worry about it.
Then, as I reached the trails near the centre, a gentleman called out:
“Nice work, mate. Well done — you’re in fifth place!”
My heart sank.
Fifth?
I’d been hoping for a top ten. I genuinely wondered whether I’d heard him correctly. No wonder I hadn’t seen anyone ahead of me.
I wasn’t about to question it, though.
I gunned it.
The final stretch became a full-blown sprint for the line, with the pace dropping below four minutes per kilometre. After hours of stopping to stretch my legs, I was suddenly running as hard as I could.
the finish line, family and the all-important soup
As I hit the downhill towards the finish and could finally see the line, I allowed myself to wish for the whole thing to be over.
As I crossed the line, my legs were smashed, my brain felt twice its normal size, and I knew the mission was accomplished. I’d exceeded my expectations, and all I wanted to do was see the family.
Luckily, they were there waiting for me.
There’s nothing quite like finishing a mental hell of a race like that and getting a cuddle from your family to put things into perspective.
And a cup of soup and a sausage roll certainly helped. 😂
One thing Bennachie Ultra absolutely nails is the spread at the finish. You can eat your fill, with cakes, soup, rowies, sausage rolls and enough food to keep you going for days. After 50 kilometres on the trails, it’s very much appreciated.
The goodie bag was another nice touch, too. This year’s haul included a beer, Bare Fuel from Highland Fuel Nutrition, a buff, a black drawstring bag, a biscuit and, of course, the medal.
It’s the sort of attention to detail that makes the event feel like more than just a race. You’re well looked after from registration to the finish, and the food waiting at the end is a pretty good incentive to keep moving when the legs start complaining.
the finish line, family and the all-important soup
As I hit the downhill towards the finish and could finally see the line, I allowed myself to wish for the whole thing to be over.
As I crossed the line, my legs were smashed, my brain felt twice its normal size, and I knew the mission was accomplished. I’d exceeded my expectations, and all I wanted to do was see the family.
Luckily, they were there waiting for me.
There’s nothing quite like finishing a mental hell of a race like that and getting a cuddle from your family to put things into perspective.
And a cup of soup and a sausage roll certainly helped. 😂
One thing Bennachie Ultra absolutely nails is the spread at the finish. You can eat your fill, with cakes, soup, rowies, sausage rolls and enough food to keep you going for days. After 50 kilometres on the trails, it’s very much appreciated.
The goodie bag was another nice touch, too. This year’s haul included a beer, Bare Fuel from Highland Fuel Nutrition, a buff, a black drawstring bag, a biscuit and, of course, the medal.
It’s the sort of attention to detail that makes the event feel like more than just a race. You’re well looked after from registration to the finish, and the food waiting at the end is a pretty good incentive to keep moving when the legs start complaining.
The kit that got me there
Mount to Coast M1
I opted for the Mount to Coast M1s over my La Sportiva Prodigio Pros because I genuinely expected this to be a more relaxed training run.
In hindsight, perhaps that wasn’t the best decision once I started racing. But the M1s were a real highlight of the day.
The early kilometres felt smooth and responsive, and I was impressed by how well they handled the descents. The grip and control were better than I’d expected, particularly given the dry conditions and the mix of trail surfaces.
I can’t say whether the first 20 kilometres helped them warm up or simply gave me time to settle into them, but they were performing brilliantly when it mattered.
The kit that got me there
Mount to Coast M1
I opted for the Mount to Coast M1s over my La Sportiva Prodigio Pros because I genuinely expected this to be a more relaxed training run.
In hindsight, perhaps that wasn’t the best decision once I started racing. But the M1s were a real highlight of the day.
The early kilometres felt smooth and responsive, and I was impressed by how well they handled the descents. The grip and control were better than I’d expected, particularly given the dry conditions and the mix of trail surfaces.
I can’t say whether the first 20 kilometres helped them warm up or simply gave me time to settle into them, but they were performing brilliantly when it mattered.
Kailas FUGA Air 8
The FUGA Air 8 was another piece of kit that just worked.
For a race of this distance, it has the storage and fit I want without becoming a distraction. I could get to what I needed, carry my fuel and keep moving without constantly fiddling with the vest.
It’s become one of those pieces of equipment I put on and largely forget about, which is exactly what I want from a running vest.
I’ve written a full review over on the website for anyone interested in the details.
Kailas FUGA Air 8
The FUGA Air 8 was another piece of kit that just worked.
For a race of this distance, it has the storage and fit I want without becoming a distraction. I could get to what I needed, carry my fuel and keep moving without constantly fiddling with the vest.
It’s become one of those pieces of equipment I put on and largely forget about, which is exactly what I want from a running vest.
I’ve written a full review over on the website for anyone interested in the details.
Four years, and still my favourite
There’s something about Bennachie Ultra that keeps bringing me back.
The trails are familiar without becoming boring, the route has enough variety to keep you honest, and the event has a friendly atmosphere that makes it feel like a proper end-of-season gathering. The changes to this year’s route were a welcome surprise, and the support around the course seemed better than ever.
CGM Racing deserves a huge thank you for putting on another brilliant event. Four years running, and it’s still my favourite race of the year.
The funny thing is that I nearly didn’t turn up. I had no structured training plan, little confidence, and every intention of treating the day as a steady training run for my November project.
Instead, I threw myself into the race, spent much of the second half fighting cramps, and somehow came away with a new PB and fifth place overall.
5:08:30. Fifth overall. Third in my category. A new PB.
It was probably the hardest I’ve ever run that distance, and I certainly paid for ignoring the plan.
But I had fun. I raced people, chased down runners, pushed myself when it hurt, and found that competitive spark again.
And at the end of it all, there was a cuddle from the family, a bowl of soup and a sausage roll.
So much for an easy training run.
Same time next year?
Four years, and still my favourite
There’s something about Bennachie Ultra that keeps bringing me back.
The trails are familiar without becoming boring, the route has enough variety to keep you honest, and the event has a friendly atmosphere that makes it feel like a proper end-of-season gathering. The changes to this year’s route were a welcome surprise, and the support around the course seemed better than ever.
CGM Racing deserves a huge thank you for putting on another brilliant event. Four years running, and it’s still my favourite race of the year.
The funny thing is that I nearly didn’t turn up. I had no structured training plan, little confidence, and every intention of treating the day as a steady training run for my November project.
Instead, I threw myself into the race, spent much of the second half fighting cramps, and somehow came away with a new PB and fifth place overall.
5:08:30. Fifth overall. Third in my category. A new PB.
It was probably the hardest I’ve ever run that distance, and I certainly paid for ignoring the plan.
But I had fun. I raced people, chased down runners, pushed myself when it hurt, and found that competitive spark again.
And at the end of it all, there was a cuddle from the family, a bowl of soup and a sausage roll.
So much for an easy training run.
Same time next year?
FOLLOW THE JOURNEY
MORE MILES AND MUD
Behind the scenes, short adventures, gear updates, training, the plot and whatever else is going on in the hills and at home.
✉️ GET NEW ADVENTURES STRAIGHT TO YOUR INBOX
RACE REPORTS, ROUTE IDEAS AND MORE.
No spam. Just the good stuff.
FOLLOW THE JOURNEY
MORE MILES AND MUD
Behind the scenes, short adventures, gear updates, training, the plot and whatever else is going on in the hills and at home.
✉️ GET NEW ADVENTURES STRAIGHT TO YOUR INBOX
RACE REPORTS, ROUTE IDEAS AND MORE.
No spam. Just the good stuff.