St. Cuthbert’s Way Ultra 100K
LOWA athlete Rachel Boim won the women’s division of the St. Cuthbert’s Way Ultra 100K, the second 100K+ she’s ever run. With a time of 13:03:10.687, she came in 6th overall. Way to go Rachel!
Here’s a debrief from her on her prep, the race itself and some takeaways about both the mental aspects of the run and her gear of choice, which included the LOWA Fortux GTX ultra model.
By: LOWA Ambassador Rachel Biom
I have been thinking about St. Cuthbert’s for a couple of months. I wanted to find something to do in between running my first 100k at TransRom and climbing Manasalu this coming September. My partner, Drew, and I had already planned on spending a month in Scotland (we’re both digital nomads) and I spent some time researching races in the general UK area. Originally, I had intended to do the “shorter” (45 mile) version of St. Cuthberth’s but something about just randomly stopping in Wooler felt a little sad. I really wanted to be able to go all the way to the ocean and complete the route. I was intimidated by the distance, as the requisite 105k would have been the farthest I had run in a single push and also because of how different the terrain is. My previous ultras and FKTs have been completed elevation on pretty gnarly, mountainous terrain and (aside from TransRom) at high altitude- aka I get to spend a lot of time walking/ hiking and still feel like I’m pretty fast. St. Cuthbert’s is a true running race. It consists of undulating hills through buffed out single track, along a few roads and through the occasional pasture or bog. While it turns out that navigating a bog is certainly tricker than I thought it would be, in general this race was fast, faster than what I was comfortable with. I also happen to be a big sucker for aesthetics. Thus I succumbed to my truer nature and though I was intimidated, I chose to switch to the 105k route the day before the race. I also had to make a decision about when to start. There were two waves, one that started at 2:30 in the morning and another at 5:30am. In order to sign up for the 5:30 am spot, it was strongly encouraged that you were faster than 14 hours, otherwise you would have to wait for the tide to go out. If I chose to start at the 2:30 am time and was too fast, I would also have to wait on the tide. After a discussion with my coach, I decided to go all in and go for the later start time.
We started just after sunrise from the abbey with a small climb out into the forest. The first part of the race was well buffed single track through tall trees with a scattering of stairs, river banks, farm lands and of course lots of mud. I feel like Madeira prepared me pretty well for the mud and the stairs. It was super great to be in shoes where the mud didn’t stick and collect on the bottom. This was one of the first long days I’ve had where I didn’t fall a single time - victory! I ran for a while with a lovely kid who was also running his second 100k. Nothing to make you feel old like running with a 23 year old- that is until I realized he had gone out too fast. He stopped being able to talk and dropped way back. I didn’t see him again until a few hours after the finish. I rolled into the first aid station feeling good and strong to a number of cheering volunteers. They had already been out there for hours crewing the slower first wave group (opposite of normal, I know) and still managed lots of great energy. From there it was a left hand turn up a gravel road, back into the woods briefly and then on to my old nemesis, the long gradual incline. For whatever reason, something that is between 6-10% just kills me. It’s not quite steep enough to notice, just enough to make you feel like you are going way slower and are far more tired than you should be. “Why are my hip flexors hurting so much?!? Oh….” I crested a hill and could see a long series of rolling hills ahead of me. The best parts here were the wild flowers, fields and fields and fields of them. When one thinks of the Scottish borderlands, I think rocks and bog and sheep and farms. But oh, the wildflowers, what a glorious pick me up.
At the 3rd aid station, I got to see my partner for the first time. This race was the first race I have ever had crew for. I’ve used drop bags or just carried my own nutrition and blow through aid stations. This was a real treat. It was so much more than just being able to hand off my vest for a bladder/Nuun refill, having a familiar face and someone so excited to see just me, it really put a lot of pep in my step.
Normally when I have long days, I invent all different kinds of math to make the distances less intimidating at the time go by more quickly. For example, I have 3k until the next big climb, 2k of climbing, then that part of the trail that looks really fun for 5k and then 3k of forest, 2k of another climb and then 5k to descend to the next aid station. It sounds a lot better than just thinking I have 20k until the next aid station. The rest of the race consisted of “Drew math,” where I got to calculate how far it was to see him to the next aid station. I ran my best time between the first place I saw him and the last place I saw him before the finish.
Wooler was the last aid station I saw Drew and the finish for the 45 mile section. I sat down to let my watch charge a bit and restocked my nutrition for the final push. In that moment, I knew I had made the right choice, I was right on my predicted time for when I would have finished the 45 mile part and knew I had more in the tank. I had purposefully conserved on the way out, knowing that I was going for 105k and it was a great morale boost to know that with less effort than I had initially anticipated, I had made the time I wanted for the 45 mile mark. If I had pushed, I would have finished about 45 minutes earlier than anticipated, what a thought! Feeling a little stiff, and regretting sitting down, I headed out of town and back into the hills. The relentless rolling hills. No climb was particularly difficult, it was the repetition that got to me. I knew if I could just see the sea, I would get a little extra pep in my step but there was always just one more hill between myself and the horizon. Finally, I crested the last hill and the trail banked sharply to the left, away from the sea. Cruel. Once I hit flat ground, I could feel my body starting to stiffen up again. It was only 5k to the last aid station, 5k to the water and 5k to the finish. 15k feels so reasonable in my head and my body felt so tired. I have heard of runners being able to “smell the barn” and pick up speed for the last few K but I just wasn't there yet. I got off track (for the 3rd time) in yet another field of sheep but I could see the causeway. The tide had just receded and it was time to make the final push, across the sand and through the 2” deep remaining water of the north sea. This was not the glorious finial 5k I had envisioned, I had no idea how to move my body through such awkwardness but it was so beautiful. This was the exact reason I had chosen to switch distances, high knees all the way to Holy Island. Drew met me at the finish line with a non-alcoholic IPA (my favorite), flowers and a bag of sea salt and vinegar chips.
Look for Part 2 'St. Cuthbert’s Way Ultra 100K Takeaways' !