Cape Wrath Ultra: The Finale

Life really does go on, despite a continuing desire to be back running across the hills, surrounded by beautiful mountains, and beautiful new friends.  After a challenging set of night shifts (not blog-reproducible), I’m currently on a train home from London after a course.  The mountains are different in London; made of skyscrapers, and the people busier; they smile less!  Yesterday (after a 5am wake up; still not fully shaken the Cape Wrath routine…) I fell back to sleep and had vivid dreams of running through the mountains for a good three hours, before finally waking again after 8am… time to start the day.

So back to the journey…

Sunshine and Salt

Day 5 constitutes another ‘rest’ day on the CWU, clocking in at only 44 Km, with a pleasant 1400m of ascent.  And compared to day 4, the terrain is positively pleasant! 

We (myself and the boys) fall into our usual routine, heading off around 7am after a generous application of the factor 50 sunscreen.  Unusually it takes a while before the first hill; we get at least 5km along an easy track, before slowly heading uphill along a footpath, and into the dreaded trackless terrain.

Day 5: Approaching Fisherfield
Photo by Ian Heywood

We’re talking about band roles; Ian on the rhythm guitar (and Owain too if I remember correctly, or maybe the bass guitar?); Glenn and myself have a debate about singing (both of us decide to be share lead vocals), and apparently I’m doing drums as well.  Pam (my tent mate) comes up with an excellent band name and voila!  “Nikki & The Tendonitis Heals” is born!

Heading through Fisherfield is absolutely stunning.  Half way through the day we pause at a river crossing to fill our bottles.  I lay down on the grass under the baking sun, and we joke about being on holiday.  The descent down after the second hill into the checkpoint is great!  There’s a decent track with some good running; it’s great to open up the legs and feel a bit of speed.

The final climb whizzes by quickly, before we start a more challenging descent down into camp at Inverbroom.  The path is just a bit too rocky, the angle a bit too steep, and legs a bit too tired to make it enjoyable.  After a few cheers from support crew who have come part way up the hill (thank you!), we make it into camp by 3pm, and are treated to Callipos!  Yum!  The sun is out, there’s more time to dry wet kit, and a great river to wash in.  An awesome evening in camp!

Drying kit at Inverbroom
Photo by Jimmy Hyland JHPVisuals

A hug delivery!

The best word to describe day 6 would be long.  It’s 72km through prime salmon fishing territory in Assynt.  The day starts with a lot of good tracks, and we move well as a team, reaching half way in no time.

We run into the checkpoint, met by a chorus of “woo-ooo”… “We’re half way there, woo-ooo, living on a prayer!” we respond, before dishing out hugs to everyone and anyone (including an awkward looking Gary; sorry!).

Hug Delivery!
Photo by Jimmy Hyland JHPVisuals

After the imposing Ben More Lodge, we head up into Glen Oykel, and the terrain gets more challenging.  Until this point my feet have been good, but at some point today a few toes have blistered.  I’ve hit today’s metaphorical wall, and struggle along the glen, watching the feet in front.  I look up, and am met with the impressive views of a rocky Garbh Choire, beneath Conival and Ben More Assynt.  It takes my breathe away, and induces another round of tears.  The final climb is tough, and very hard work.  Unfortunately by this point descending is now quite painful.  It’s a relief to reach camp after a tough end to the day.  Emotion is high in our group, and for once I’m not the only one to be crying.  There is another river wash, another evening in camp, and another beautiful sunset.

Heading up Glen Oykel
Photo by Ian Heywood

Cry Me a River

As we leave camp on day 7 Shane reassures us with a smile that it’s only 60km today.  Since when did 60km have ‘only’ in the same sentence??  We’re all sore, and all tired.  It’s going to be a tough one!  The terrain up to the first checkpoint is tough, much tougher than our poor legs can bear.  Ian, who has been stoical and strong until this point, hits his rock bottom (I know I’d hit mine yesterday), and stumbles along with a concoction of angry words.  We pass the tallest waterfall in Scotland (no, not the small one on the right, the giant one on the left Alex!), and Ian regains composure and a sense of positivity.

We hit the only summit of the week; Ben Dreavie, and finally the end is in sight- literally!!  We can just see the tip of the Cape Wrath Lighthouse!

Summit of Ben Dreavie
Photo by Ian Heyood

Perhaps the low point of the day, if not the week, was trudging along the shores of Loch a’ Garbh-bhaid Mor.  Ian pulled us out of our slump with some excellent bird-watching skills.  He excitedly pointed out a Northern Diver to us all, which still makes me laugh now!  He told us a bit about them, his voice full of sincerity!!

The day finished with tarmac; 7 km of tarmac, plus painful feet with blistered toes.  Not a pleasant experience.  I spent most of the tarmac hiding behind my sunglasses, crying.  And crying, and crying.  Reaching the crest of the final hill and seeing camp below us brought on yet more tears.  We arrived in camp tired, with the tears still flowing.  I’m not sure why; I guess a mixture of pain, exhaustion, and also relief; the finish was so close now!

Owen played the hero yet again, bringing me tea and more chocolate cake to the tent, so I could get my feet sorted.  Even Charlotte popped over to the tent to check in with me (clearly my tears had everyone worried; sorry; I’m a crier!).

Kinlochbervie Camp at sunset
Photo by Jimmy Hyland JHPVisuals

Cape Wrath Lighthouse/ "The is the End, oh beautiful friend, the End"

Having spent all week dreaming of the end, it was odd being so close.  But equally, I didn’t want things to end.  I’m not sure I can find the best words to write about this day!  Or else I could write far too many words!

Sandwood bay: gorgeous.  I’ll definitely be coming back to climb Am Buchaille, the sea stack at the end of the beach.  After Sandwood Bay we headed across yet more trackless moor; a combination of tussocks and bog are by now our favourite terrain!

There’s a final alphabet for our final hill.  This time it’s “I went ultra running with Noah and I took… a whole herd of animals!  Hitting the track, we round a final bend, to see the lighthouse ahead of us.  We run, singing, elated across the finish line.  The expected tears don’t come; I used them all up yesterday, and they won’t come until much later, at the finisher’s meal/ medal ceremony.

Running across the finish line
Photo by Fiona Outdoors

We have team hugs, and finisher’s photos, cups of tea and soup, and wait patiently for the mini-bus that will take us back to civilisation.  We doze or chat quietly on the minibus as we bump our way to the Kyle of Durness, before climbing onto a small boat to be ferried across the Kyle.

Team hugs at Cape Wrath
Photo by Fiona Outdoors

My father-in-law and his wife have come out to wave (thank you!), and we exchange sweaty hugs, before a short minibus ride back to camp.  At camp we are met by the fabulous crew who have spent all week looking after us; time for lots more hugs and big grins.

After a trip to the shop to buy cans of lager and ice creams, I lay on the grass outside the boys tent (24!), surrounded by new friends who I now know so well, feeling overwhelmed, and in awe of what we’ve achieved together.

That first shower is heaven, despite being cold!  We gather for a group photo; finishers and helpers; what a team!  Then it’s off to the finishing ceremony to eat lots of food, and celebrate our achievements.  Finally the tears start falling (Nico stood nearby can’t stop blubbing, and I’m quickly set off!).

Competitors and Crew at Durness
Photo by Jimmy Hyland JHPVisuals

The sun barely sets that night up in Durness, as we toss and turn in tents with our aching legs.

One final breakfast with friends before the long journey home.  There’s plenty of time for things to sink in as the miles pass by.  It’s a long way from Fort William to Cape Wrath.  It’s even further from Durness to Sheffield!

Nikki & The Tendonitis Heals (a.k.a Glenn, Owain, me and Ian)
Photo by Jimmy Hyland JHPVisuals

The End
Photo by Jimmy Hyland JHPVisuals

Cape Wrath Ultra: "We're Half Way There" (sang)

Another week has passed since my return to normality, and I'm clinging on to memories from CWU.  I shed a smile or two with each retelling of the adventure, and try to maintain the zen-like state I came home with.  This week has mostly consisted of rest... well, not 'rest' per-say, I've still been quite busy, but only minimal exercise.  I did my first run on Tuesday; an easy 7km with a friend, and it felt good!

So, back to the story!

The start line

After months of preparation it was finally here!  I'm often emotional lining up to start a big race.  Today was no different.  Normally I get a bit teary during the swim of an ironman; doesn't help with vision in your goggles! All those hours of training and sacrifices you've made finally come to fruition.

It was a grey, drizzly day in Fort William.  One last toilet stop and a panicked emergency dose of Imodium (please just be nerves and not the remnants of my stomach bug), then I was at the Nevis Centre with other competitors.  I managed to get the last space on the first boat, and a caterpillar of runners, we wiggled our way along the high street to the boat.  All on board, most people cowered inside from the rain.  I stood outside, watched Fort William shrink further away, tracing my husband along the shore as he disappeared back to the car.

Nervously watching Fort William shrink away.
Photo by Jimmy Hyland JHPVisuals

I reflected on what I was about to endure.  Crazy.  Definitely crazy!  The piper played us onto land, and we milled around, drinking tea, chatting nervously.

I'd reccied day 1 a couple of months previously; 10km on the road, 15km of easy track, 5 km of up and down with a bit of mud, 5km of easy track.  An easy day!  Actually when I had run it, I'd had such a terrible run, and could only hope I'd be on better form.

Two more boats arrived, then it was time.  Off we went!  I ran with Owain and we were determined to go slow, constantly time-checking ourselves and reminding ourselves to slow down.  The day was uneventful, and we arrived into camp after 4hr30 of running (faster than planned...), ready to settle into camp routine!

Camp Life

Tent life in tent 13 was pretty spectacular!  Known as the 'babes tent', we definitely had the most laughs!  We had Sarah Witte (our pocket rocket, finished second place), Pam from America (great sense of humour), Lillian (fountain of knowledge, having done the route 2 years ago), Irene (very wise, mother-like, looking after us all) and Pilar from Mexico (unfortunately had bilateral tibial stress fractures).  I was fortunate enough to share my sleeping compartment with Jill, a fellow doctor.  Words to describe Jill other than lovely (which she definitely is!); determined and stubborn!!

You quickly settle into camp life with a routine; wash, dry feet, clean clothes, warm clothes, pack bag for tomorrow, lay out your bed, then eat, and eat some more!  Early to bed (9pm where possible), followed by early to rise (5.30am) to start it all again; tape feet, pack up bed, eat some more, pack kit bag, and ready to go at 7am.

Day 2: Hitting Rock Bottom

Things quickly get serious on day 2 as you head across Knoydart.  Weighing in at 57km and 1800m of climbing, this was clearly not going to be a walk in the park... and man it really wasn't!  The day started well with a nice climb, before a slippy, slidey, boggy descent down to our first river crossing of the course.  I'd been quite worried about these as I hadn't really done many/ any in the past.  Fortunately there wasn't much to worry about!  Get your feet wet and get on with it!

After CP1 we hit a good path in the woods, and then trucked along through Glen Dessarry, teaming up with Ian also.  It was good to have someone with new jokes to add; me and Owain were already running out!

The day was beautiful (well, what we could see of it... it did rain a fair bit) and the highlight was coming into the stunning Barrisdale bay.  Knowing you were 8 or 9km away from the finish was quite exciting.  Unfortunately I'd been warned this was not an easy end to the day, with more undulations and rough trail than desired.  Our tent named this stretch the Barrisdale Bastard; very appropriate.  At this point I ran out of energy big style, and ran out of food.  I think if I hadn't been sick in the lead-up to the race I would have been fine, but just lacked the glycogen stores to get me through.  Fortunately for me, Owain and Ian fed me Jelly Babies and Strawberry laces and kept me moving.  We were met with a downpour as we arrived in camp; cold, tired and wet.

Wet and wild on day 2
Photo by Steve Ashworth

At this point I wandered what the heck I was doing, even beginning to think I was good enough to be here!  I felt rough, and there was no way I could get this course finished!  One of the race crew carried my bag over to my tent, and offered me a much needed hug.  I responded to said hug with a barrage of tears (sorry Owen!).  At this point he helpfully told me what to do; "give me your mug, get inside, get dry and get some warm clothes on."  By the time he re-appeared 5 minutes later with a hot cup of tea and a piece of chocolate cake, I had warm clothes on and was sorting out my wet feet.  Absolute hero!  I don't think I would have finished if it hadn't been for Owen making sure I was ok, then checking in with me throughout the rest of the week.  The support crew (all of them, not just Owen, although he definitely deserves a special mention) were absolutely amazing!  Armed with plenty of hugs and words of wisdom and support, they definitely helped me get through the week!

Day 3: Reaching new heights

The night before, after a tough day out on day 2, I was stressing about day 3; it was longer AND hillier!  (68km, 2,400m ascent).  After the struggle I'd had on day 2, there was no chance I'd finish this!  Laura (medic, previous finisher in 2016) reassured me that it was an easier day and I'd be ok; she was definitely right!

I set off early, again with Owain and Ian, and we quickly left behind the beautiful Kinloch Hourn.  After coming over the first hill of the day, we hit the bottom of the Forcan ridge.  The rock was dry, and I felt like I had remembered how to run again.  Trusting my feet on the dry rock, it felt incredible to run down over the bottom of the ridge, before dropping down into a grassy glen; this was definitely one of the highlights of the course for me.  If day 2 had been rock bottom, day 3 was definitely very special!

In Shiel Bridge we popped to the shop (like you do on an ultramarathon...) and greedily devoured salt and vinegar crisps, an ice cream and a drink as we stomped on through the village.  At which point my husband unexpectedly appeared to cheer us on.  That, plus a wardrobe malfunction that saw me wearing all purple, made for a positively cheery day!  I was re-named the positive purple pixie, with various alliterative extensions to the name.

The positive purple pixie (with giant smile!)
Photo by Fiona Outdoors

The sun was shining and the day was good.  Although it did keep going, and going, and going!  Between CP6 and CP7 we passed a particularly boggy bit of terrain, including crossing over some very deep bits of bog.  It was particular amusing watching David Deane take a very daring run and jump over one of these deep boggy channels.  Fortunately for him, this went well.  But it would also have been amusing to watch him land waist deep in bog... we took a more cautious route around that bit!

The Bearnais bothy was as beautiful as expected, and then we slogged up the final hill of the day.  By now, we also had Rob in tow, who generously shared the bottle of coke with us that he had been carrying since Shiel Bridge.  We headed up the hill, Ian leading the way, and had our first ultra-running alphabet.  If you've never played the game it goes along the lines of 'I went ultra-running and I took... A, B, C, with each person repeating the previous, plus adding one; an Altimeter, Barometer, Cat (!), Day-Glo running top, Energy Bar, Foxes Glacier Mints, Ginger Cat etc etc etc.  It certainly made the hill pass quickly, before we arrived at the high point, to begin a long, torturous descent down into camp at Achnashellach.

The sun had been shining, but camp was still wet... very wet!  Puddles had formed in our tents as they had been taken down and re-erected wet.

Day 4: A Rest Day?

Short, at only 35km, heading through Torridon was far from a rest!  Clocking in at only 8 hours, it was definitely easier than the previous 12 hour days, but the terrain was definitely challenging.  Our team became four today, as Glenn joined myself, Owain and Ian.  Introducing the dream team...

Glenn, like myself, was a fan of singing, so things started to get lively as we headed up through Coire Lair.  Crossing the first Col of the day, we were singing Elton John's "Can you feel the love tonight" (the Lion King version!).  It was pretty special hearing it echo around off the rocky cliffs.  Wow!  A good path, with some nice running, took us down to the Ling hut and a road crossing/ check point.

We continued uphill, and around the back of Benn Eighe, initially on a good path as far as the Loch.  Seeing the triple buttress, it's hard to express the feeling of wonder and awe.  I contemplated winter routes I'm yet to climb, and can't wait to return!

Leaving the loch we experienced the highlight of the day; an enjoyable boulder field!  I don't know how many ankles were injured that day, but it was certainly a relief to reach camp uninjured.  At some point during the day, Canadian Mike passed us.  He had been following us up the hill during our alphabet the day before (but hadn't contributed); we presumed he just hadn't listened.  How wrong we were!  In his lovely accent, he said hi, then proceeded the recite the beginning of our alphabet; it had us in fits of giggles!

Day 4 finished in Kinlochewe at 3pm, with the sun shining!  Finally a chance to dry out wet kit, and have a proper wash under a tap in the field.  (I'm sure I washed at the end of day 3 too, I just can't remember doing so...).  We treated ourselves to a trip to the shop for more ice cream and a can of pop, plus a chance to buy extra food supplies.  The mood was overwhelmingly positive that evening in camp.  We were half way there!!

Before you get too bored, it's definitely time for my nightshift; and half way is a good place to pause!

Cape Wrath Ultra: A Prelude

It's funny.  For someone who is never short of something to say, I've been really struggling to find the words to put down in this post.

It's been almost a week since we finished running the Cape Wrath Ultra, and a repetitive stream of unoriginal adjectives have been flowing from my mouth; Amazing!  Incredible!  Beautiful!  Stunning!  Hard Work!  Life-reaffirming.  I just can't seem to find the right words to describe quite how amazing this journey has been.  I'm left with a sense of peace and inner calm; something I've been struggling to achieve for months as I bounce around a manic A&E department at work, or cram in hours of triathlon/run training into an already-too-busy week.

This week, despite overwhelming fatigue, I have felt incredibly relaxed and calm, even in the midst of a hectic department!  Time on the trail has always been my bit of headspace; a time for mindfulness.  Well 75 hours and 13 minutes clearly gave me a lot of time!!

Happiness is... 
Photo by ©Jimmy Hyland JHPVisuals

In The Beginning

My journey to the Cape Wrath Ultra began last year when I met race organiser Shane Ohly in a ski hut in the Austrian Alps.  Our ski tour had been scuppered by bad weather, but good conversation made up for it!  After a few days of enforced rest, we finally escaped the hut, and the CWU seed had been sewn in the back of my mind.  Shane also turned us vegetarian; well done!

Having watched the 2016 CWU film on BMC TV, I promised myself that if i finished my first ultra (the Highland Fling) then I'd enter Cape Wrath.  I mean one 53 mile ultra verses an 8 day expedition race... meh!  It'll be fine!  Race entries opened; I was clicking refresh, ready to go, and had entered in minutes, before I had a chance to change my mind!

Finishing the Fling with Owain.
Photo by Stuart Mcfarlane.

A summer of triathlon training followed (racing Ironman is my usual thing), ending with a strong race in September, then a bit of downtime.  Autumn followed and time to pick up the training again.  I did feel sorry for my poor triathlon coach Jon, trying to combine training for a horrendously long ultra, with keeping up some bike and swim fitness.  Thanks Jon and Matt from TCUK!

Winter went well and rolled round into spring.  The miles were ticking by, but moving back to Sheffield (after a year of work and play in Snowdonia) and onto a more challenging rota certainly took it's toll!  As CWU grew rapidly closer I had to relax and trust that I had the miles in my legs, and the strength in my head!


Almost the end

After much debate about kit, buying and replacing bits and pieces, decisions about shoes etc, it was a week before the race and I was packing my kit bag, almost ready to go.  Then disaster struck.  It started with a bike crash.  I rode my bike into a stationary car at traffic lights on the Sunday before the race.  Except for an angry driver, car, bike and myself were OK, if not a little shaken.

Then came a bad stomach bug.  It's not uncommon in my job to get the occasional bout of diarrhoea and vomiting (call it an occupational hazard!); my body is very good at shaking it off within 24hrs.  This time, from Monday through to Wednesday, things were not so good!  Any food went straight through me, and I laid in bed feeling very sorry for myself, doubting I'd reach the start line.  I gave myself ultimatums; if you stop poo-ing/ start eating by X then you can race... I kept moving the deadline backward though!  I knew full-well if I was giving advice to a patient I would be telling them not to race.

Big thanks though to Em for telling me to get some Cipro, and Georgie for telling me to get on the start line anyway!  Thankfully by Thursday my bowels had settled, and by Friday my appetite returned... phew!


Prelude

I headed up to Fort William on the Friday for a couple of days of R&R with the husband (who had been working away on Skye).  Staying in a Shepard's hut in Torlundy we had incredible views of the Ben, and I had a chance to concentrate on eating, sleeping, and making sure I was as ready as possible before the race started.  Big credit to Tom for tolerating two days of rest rather than climbing, especially when the sun was shining and we could see the incredible north face of the Ben!  It must be love...

On Saturday I joined the long queue at registration, and eagerly chatted to fellow competitors, as we waited to register.  The support crew were very patient as we trotted around the hall, visiting each stand.  How many times must they have repeated the same information??  I was a bubble of nervous excitement, with a massive grin on my face!  Heading back for the briefing and meal, I met up with Owain, who I ran the final 20km of the Highland Fling with in 2017.  We were excited, and planned to start the race together the next day.

Things get serious.
Photo: Tom Hecht (I think...)

I unpacked then re-packed my running bag.  Clothes sat in a pile on the side.  It was too late to change my mind anyway; I'd already checked-in my kit bag for the week that evening.  One final chance to sleep in a bed, before the race began!  I tossed and turned, waking with dawn, as ready as I could be!

To be continued...