Behind the Scenes at an Ultra Marathon

Racers emerging out of the clag on the Cam Road at Kiddhow

 Let's be honest, running an ultra-marathon is hard work. Covering upwards of 30 miles on hilly terrain, often involving climbing over stiles, splashing through streams and plodging through deep mud isn't easy (though it is easier than running a road marathon - but that's a story for another day). However, if running (as in participating in) an ultra is hard work, so is running (as in organising) one. This weekend, I was volunteering for Ranger Ultras who were running two separate events over overlapping courses in the Yorkshire Dales. I've run the Yorkshire Three Peaks Ultra a couple of times. It starts in Hawes in Wensleydale, climbs over the side of Dodd Fell to Ribblehead and then does a tour of the three peaks (Whernside, Ingleborough and Pen Y Ghent) before retracing the route over Dodd Fell back to Hawes. The Pen Y Ghent Ultra takes the same outward and return route, but only (only!) climbed Pen Y Ghent before heading back.

The Ranger Ultras stand with finishers' medals

So, on Friday evening, I arrived in Hawes at five pm, where Stu who runs Ranger Ultras was already in place in the market hall, starting to set the room up. He'd already unloaded vast quantities of food and supplies from his van and was now sorting out the room. After a brief catch up, I started to set up tables down one side of the room for the race registration and a scattering of tables and chairs for competitors. More volunteers drifted in over the next hour or so, and by seven we were ready to start the registration process for those who wanted to get signed in early.

Safety is a massive issues for races which go over rough mountainous terrain and this is especially the case late in the year when the weather is starting to turn. We had a list of the people who had registered for the two races along with their mobile phone number and a number for an emergency contact. The runners had also been issued with a mandatory kit list which included good waterproofs, spare food and an emergency bivvy bag (the foil blankets that you see marathon runners swaddled up in on city marathons are not much good on top of Ingleborough in a howling gale). 

As registration started, Stu went out and bought fish and chips for the volunteers. Meanwhile, I was on kit check duty. When people arrived, they were checked off against the list and their contact details verified. They then came over to another table where a couple of us gave a spot check to ensure that they had specific items of kit. We worked on the assumption that if they had some of the required kit, then they would probably have the rest of it, too and we wouldn't need to check it all. Some runners turned up with their stuff in a box or a tray which made it easy to see what they had. Others had their race packs already packed for the event and so had to unpack everything for inspection. The unpacking and repacking takes longer than the actual kit check, sometimes. Meanwhile, I took advantage of lulls in the process to get stuff my face with fish and chips - the chippy in Hawes is very good btw.

Kit Check

By ten, the flow of runners had eased off and the team headed across the road to the pub.

I spent Friday night kipping on the floor of the market hall along with other volunteers and some of the runners. It wasn't a great night, partly because it's always different sleeping away from home, but also because there were some olympic quality snorers in the room. After a pretty fitful night, I gave up at about 4.30 and sat up and read my Kindle a wee while later, I got up and headed over to the kitchen for the first of my many cups of coffee.

Registration re-opened at seven and I was back on kit check. Most of the runners actually chose to register on the morning of the race, so things were pretty hectic at points and there were five or six of us checking maps, waterproof jackets and such like. One of the nice things about these events is that you get to meet the same people. I had met most of the Ranger ultras team at different events in the past and some of the runners were familiar. It turned out that I'd run a few miles of the St Began Ultra five or six years back with one couple whose kit I was checking. Even better, our Dave was in the race; it's always nice to meet your family in a random village hall in the Dales.

One of us was running, the other checking kit

The two races had different start times. The longer three peaks race setting off at nine and the Pen Y Ghent one at ten. The 3 Peaks racers posed for a photo and then set off. The front runners setting off at a ferocious pace, while others were more measured and sedate.

After watching the runners set off, it was back to kit check for the late arrivals for the Pen Y Ghent race.

Finally, the hall which had been filled with runners, fell silent and the team could breathe for a few moments.

As I mentioned earlier, safety is a priority on these events. There are a number of check points on the route, where the runners can top up their water supply and grab some snacks. More importantly, from the organisational point of view, each race number is recorded with the time they leave the checkpoint, so that it is possible to know roughly where people are on the course. Once everyone was on their way, I set off with Rob who was photographing the event to the first checkpoint at Kiddhow Gate, ten km into the race at the end of a narrow track on a windswept plateau. By the time I got there, the runners for the first race had already passed through, but I managed to see most of the people on the second one emerge out of the fog.

Once everyone was through the checkpoint, I took the list of runners and times back to the headquarters at Hawes and then headed out with Rob to the second checkpoint at Ribblehead. However, by the time we got there, the runners had already been through and so we moved on to Chapel Le Dale, which comes after the descent from Whernside. John was managing the checkpoint on his own, so I helped him out by filling up water bottles while he recorded numbers and times. I had hoped to hang around long enough to see our Dave come through this checkpoint, but there were a couple of runners who had needed to pull out of the race and who were getting cold, so I left Rob at the checkpoint to take photos and drove the two guys back to the start.

By the time I got to Hawes, the first runners on the shorter course were arriving, an astonishing feat, covering thirty miles in so short a time. This meant that the operation to provide pizza to the finishers was now underway and although I had done nothing more than drive back and forth, I helped myself to a few slices of pepperoni.

After an hour's rest at Hawes, I headed back up to Kiddhow Gate, which in addition to being the first checkpoint was also the last one. I arrived their at three pm and was due to stay until the last runner came through; in the event this was around ten thirty.

Clouds, moors and a glimpse of Ingleborough from Kiddhow

Some of the runners coming through were wearing shorts and t-shirts, but standing around checking numbers doesn't keep you as warm as running up hills and John and I had to put on more layers to stave off the cold. It got decidedly chilly at times. 

There was a dip in the route about a quarter of a mile from where we were waiting and so we couldn't see the runners till they emerged from it, though we could often hear them chatting well before they came into view. As night fell, we could pick out their head torches from down in the valley miles away and we had an idea when different groups would actually reach us. This was good, because it meant that we could sit in our vehicles and stay out of the wind for a while.

Into the evening, increasingly concerned messages started to appear on the group WhatsApp chat. A couple of runners had left Chapel Le Dale but had not been recorded passing through the next checkpoint at Horton in Ribblesdale. No one knew where they were. Eventually, after a worrying hour or so, both runners passed us at Kiddhow, in fine form and completely bemused as to why we were so glad to see them. I've marshalled at a good few races and it is really difficult to ensure that everyone's number is recorded as they pass through the checkpoints. When you have a group of ten or more people all coming through at the same time, asking for water and food, it is really difficult to keep track of everyone. As an additional safety precaution, an experienced runner follows behind the race as sweeper. If someone did get into trouble on the route, the sweeper would be able to help them.

As night fell, the cloud came down and visibility dropped. We alternated between sitting in our vehicles and stepping out to encourage the runners, record their numbers and provide them with snacks and water. Dave passed the final checkpoint much earlier than he'd done so two years earlier, when running with his old man.

Dave and companions heading towards Hawes on the Cam Road at Kiddhow

At ten thirty, the sweeper and the last two runners reached the checkpoint. John and I were pretty happy with this, as we were primed to stay there till one in the morning. We packed the table and the remains of the checkpoint food into John's van and set off for Hawes.

Except we didn't. The rest of this post, is nothing to do with marshalling at the race, but it bears telling!

My car wouldn't start! It is a feature of the Ford Focus that when you get in and out, not only does the interior curtesy light come on, so do the sidelights. And after eight hours of getting in and out of the car, the battery was flat. Just to add insult to injury, neither of our phones could get a signal. Just to add to the phone, not only would my car not start, but one of the windows was stuck open. We jammed a bit of tarpaulin over the gap and climbed into John's car and headed down to Hawes. The good news, at this point is that Sean, one of the other volunteers, was an aircraft mechanic; not only did he have a set of jump leads in his van he is also possessed of sort of confidence that makes you feel that having a car stuck with a flat battery in the middle of nowhere is only a minor problem. So back up to Kiddhow! By now visibility was down to about five metres on the tops and the drive took a fair bit of time. As expected, Sean was able to get me going again and after about fifteen minutes, we were able to retrace our steps back to Hawes. For obvious reasons, I didn't want to stop my car engine and so I parked up, left the motor running and headed into the hall to say my goodbyes to the team. There was still a lot of tidying up to be done, but with a poorly car, I decided that the best thing to do was head home.

The fun wasn't over. Apparently, there is another feature of the Ford Focus that means when the battery dies, the automatic transmission sometimes gets very upset. I had a warning on the dashboard that the car needed an immediate service and the car would only change up a gear after revving far to hard for a while. What's more, it was very reluctant to get out of third gear. It was a long, slow drive home through the Dales, with the car sounding like it was being driven by a boy-racer.

I got home around one thirty on Sunday morning, just as a heavy rain shower hit. Standing in the rain, I discovered that the door was locked and the key was in the other side. I was locked out! Rather than bang on the door, I phoned Sue and asked her to come and let me in. 

All in all, it was not the start to my 63rd birthday that I would have planned!

If you are a runner, can I encourage you to do a stint marshalling for a race? It really is good fun and it is worthwhile to put something back into the sport that you love. Not only that, but runners tend to be lovely people. There is something very heartwarming about standing on a fell side and having a stream of people saying "thank you" and telling you that you are doing a great job. Go on, give it a go!

Oh, I'm back to running, myself, next week. Twenty eight miles on the Nidderdale Way. It should be lovely.