Ultra Trail Snowdonia 100M 2025

 

• Distance: 171km / 106 miles (tracked, missing final 100m)
• Elevation: 10,0279m / 33,724 feet (tracked)
• Elapsed Time: 44:19:23 (official)
• Estimated calories: 17,163
• Position: 96th
• Total finishers (within 48-hour cutoff): 145, of 240 starters (40% DNF)
• Ultra Trail Snowdonia homepage
• Route map

Dropping off Glydr Fawr towards Devil's Kitchen

The preceding weeks

"Of course you can do it", Claire would reply each time I expressed my increasing nervousness as the race day neared. "You've done it before", she would say, drawing on the most concrete of evidence that this challenge was indeed within my capability. When I was eight weeks out, my confidence had been high from improved routines - regular strength training, regular short and long hikes and varying my running distance and speed. I was trying to address the shortcomings in my training from the previous year where I'd focused on weekly mileage, resulting in a one-dimensional approach. This time, I knew I had the endurance, and pushing the miles was less important than addressing my weaknesses - core strength, knee stability, glute strength, groin strength. Yet, it had been on my mind that my weekly mileage had been quite low, and I hadn't been doing big weekend runs with any regularity. Following the Arc in January, I'd kind of downed-tools.

Those final weeks of training, building up to the peak, and then tapering for the final three, seemed quite important this time. I needed those final big runs, complete with hills and difficult terrain, to sharpen my skills and build my confidence for what remains the hardest race on my calendar. This course is fierce by anybody's measure, and feared by many capable trail runners.

But the last weeks were chaotic; where I should have allowed time for those final key runs, I was hiking or doing family stuff. I'd managed a couple of visits to Snowdonia, but I really wanted to get two more big weekends in. Then injury hit. I paused the running for a week, but knee pain continued. A big hike didn't help, so another running week was lost. My final chance, three weeks out, for a visit to Snowdonia, and I had to cut the visit short to avoid worsening the situation.

With two weeks to go, and the peak phase of my training almost entirely missed, I went to the physio. I was downcast, mentally scribing the epitaph of my race entry, expecting to be advised that if I wanted to keep running at all, I should abandon this plan. I knew I had just a few days to make a claim on my event insurance policy if I was unable to compete, so a decision would have to be made. The physio made a basic assessment from my descriptions of the problem and some assessment of the origin of the pain, and advised that the tendons behind my knee were inflamed; a reduction in the load would help it heal. Crucially, this didn't present a risk of major injury if I were to take on the event. A green light.

One week to go, arriving at the threshold for an insurance claim, my knee had not improved, despite more rest. If anything, it had worsened. I faced the choice: reclaim some of my money, or hope it would heal and just head for the start line. For me, there was no decision to make; I'd give it a go. A short test a few days before race day, and the knee felt uncomfortable, but even worse, it felt unstable like it could just give up on me. My usual approach of talking myself through my reasons to be  confident wouldn't work this time; whatever I'd done right, this presented a big unknown.

Race day

Countering my feelings of doom, the forecast had been improving day-by-day. We'd headed over to Snowdonia the day before, knowing to expect a fully dry weekend with clear summits and sunshine. Given the difficulty level that precipitation or wet ground present on parts of this course, especially scrambling sections and large bogs, knowing it would be clear and dry underfoot from weeks of dry weather was a big boost. We woke up at our campsite to beautiful blue skies. Part of me didn't care about the race result; I'd still get a weekend in Snowdonia, and my knee would at least get me up to a few decent summits.

This time, my preparation had been much better; a few nights of decent sleep, my bags packed, checked and repacked over a few days, a nutrition plan and several modifications to my choices of kit. Some things were untested - new poles, a different pack with new bottles, new toe socks and some tape for blister protection, but it all felt like incremental improvements on things that have worked before. My two hopes were firstly that I'd suffer less fatigue if I started less tired, and secondly that I'd sustain a better pace if I could avoid blistering at least until the late stages of the race.

Event village at Llanberis

Support crew prep

Foot prep

Pre-race fuel

I took the time to enjoy my morning coffee. I was methodical with the organisation of my kit. I invested some effort in preparing my feet with tape and anti-blister cream. We were not rushed as we set off for Llanberis; we'd be early for registration, and have a few hours to bask in the sunshine before race start.

With kit checked and drop bag delivered, we soaked up the atmosphere and the rays in the festival village. I started fuelling with loaded fries topped with fried chicken. My knee felt better than at any time during the past few weeks, probably aided by the heat. My mind was no longer thinking in terms of how far I'd get; I was now targeting a finish. This was important; you can easily talk yourself out of a race but, for me, believing it is possible is key.

Leg 1: Llanberis - Pen-y-Pass

Start line

Llanberis path

Approaching turning to Pyg track (left) with Snowdon summit in view

The compere called for the runners of the 100-mile event to assemble at the start line. Learning from last year, I had taken note of where my supporters were stood so that I'd be able to spot them in the crowd and wave as I passed by. I was more relaxed than on previous occasions, feeling confident that I'd done all the necessary preparations and that my kit was in the right places.

The race began, and we funnelled on to the streets of Llanberis with crowds cheering. My legs didn't feel fresh after weeks away from running, so I wasn't trying to keep with the speedier runners and was slipping back from my starting position. As I warmed up, I picked up my pace a little and we started the first ascent of Snowdon. I got chatting with another runner, who observed that my pack looked pretty large and heavy - he'd thought I must be training for a multi-day endurance event and thus deliberately carrying more kit. In fact, I wasn't carrying much more than the mandatory kit; I was slightly confused at how so many runners had extremely slim packs. I wasn't concerned; if I could get around at all, I could still do it with this pack - I wasn't travelling any heavier than the previous hundred-milers I'd completed.

The sun was blazing as Snowdon summit came into view. We veered off down the Pyg track and some fun and slightly speedy descending ensued. I wasn't feeling at my best, but I was enjoying myself. My plan was to match my section timings from last year through the first half of the race, and gain time in the second half by checkpoint efficiency, good fuelling and better foot management.

I reached the first aid station feeling ok but hot. I'd been drinking according to my plan. I refilled my bottles and headed off.

Leg 2: Pen-y-Pass - Glan Dena

My support crew (Claire and Eva) waved me past at the road crossing. Claire let me know that I was already 20 mins ahead of last year, which came as a surprise. I pulled my poles out for the first serious climb. Glyder Fawr starts with some steep grassy slopes, progressing to rocky stuff further up. The heat was now intense, and I quickly began to feel it. As we reached the rocky scrambles, a discomfort in my stomach was worsening and I started to feel nausea building. I knew I couldn't ignore it; delaying would make it worse, and if this progressed my race could quickly be over. I looked for shade in the rocks, and with the race field still close together, I had to endure lots of people passing me as I sheltered and hoped my body could fend this off. I struggled to get fluids in, so tried to help my body by nibbling small amounts of food. I repeatedly tried to get moving again, but each time had to pause again due to the feelings of nausea. This wasn't good.

After repeated efforts at cooling, eating and drinking, the sickness eased just enough for me to do a slower plod up to the summit. I paused near the marshalls, packed up my poles and tried to take on a little more food and drink. I set off towards Devil's Kitchen feeling a little green, but running. Over the rocky stuff, I found my stride again, noticing my confidence relative to other runners - it was obvious that not everybody has the chance to train on such terrain. When we started the loose part of the descent, I was passing people who were nervous of a fall.

Devil's Kitchen starts on steep stepped rocks but gets more difficult with some bigger rocks that require clambering; other runners were letting me through as they cautiously figured out a way down. I was in my element, hopping down the rocks. As the path started to level, I picked up some speed, enjoying the skipping and twisting alongside Llyn Idwal. I copied another runner who'd dunked their cap in a stream to cool off. I'd hoped for a little boost from passing my support crew, but they were nowhere to be seen; I found out later that they'd been caught out by me being 30 minutes ahead of my estimated timing, and weren't there in time.

Ascending Glydr Fawr, and overheating

Approach Devil's Kitchen. Pen yr Ole Wen in view beyond Llyn Ogwen

I turned back away from the road at Llyn Ogwen, where the route heads up around the back of Tryfan, emerging at the far end of Llyn Ogwen to meet the Glan Dena checkpoint. The climb around Tryfan is notably steep and I was getting hot again. I knew where I could access the stream near a waterfall section, so veered off the path, got on my hands and knees, and got my head in the water. It felt really good, so I stayed for a few minutes, again wetting my cap and buff. 

As I reached the high point and turned round the back of Tryfan, I knew the heat was still getting to me. I was running ok, but slower, and my stomach didn't feel good. I kept it steady, kept the fluids going in, and focused on getting to the next checkpoint.

When I reached the road crossing before the checkpoint, Eva was waiting, holding her supporters sign for encouragement. She ran with me to the checkpoint, having just run 20 mins back to the car for my support bag. I headed for shade. As my mouth attempted to relay the challenges and struggled to communicate what I might want for fuel, I realised that my condition wasn't very good; the heat had continued to affect me. As I sat trying to eat, I started sobbing involuntarily. I couldn't rush here as I needed to cool down properly, and recover from some inadequate fuelling. I'd been drinking at the required rate, but I hadn't been managing to eat much. I was feeling quite negative, and vocalising my doubts that I could get round the course, even though I was still 15 mins ahead of last year's time. I stayed a while and forced some food down, and also got sprayed with water by a volunteer at the checkpoint. The next section was one of the longest in the race, so I needed to be ready.

Leg 3: Glan Dena - Llyn Eigiau

Pen yr Ole Wen is a fabulous challenge - a long, steep ascent up to 978m, with fun scrambling along the way. It is followed by a traverse around the edge above Ffynnon Llugwy, over Carnedd Fach, Carnedd Dafydd and reaching Carnedd Llewelyn at 1064m, near enough matching the height of Snowdon. The revised race route for this year would drop off over Foel Grach, taking a mostly grassy descent to Llyn Eigiau.

I was having fun up the scrambles of Pen yr Ole Wen. The scenery was glorious under the blue skies. I was keeping good momentum once heading around the top, and my mood was positive. As I skipped over an awkward rock field, I reflected that my knee was working, I'd fixed my nausea and I was properly in this race now, enjoying myself and probably able to finish it.

Scrambling up Pen yr Ole Wen

Pen yr Ole Wen, looking back to Tryfan and Devil's Kitchen (the corner in shadow)

Pen yr Ole Wen, looking over to Conwy Bay

Technical terrain near Carnedd Llewelyn

On Carnedd Llewelyn

Choosing a spot to fall over

Seconds after getting off the rock field and onto the grass, my knees slammed down hard and I hit the deck. Typically, on the less challenging terrain, I'd stopped concentrating and tripped on a small rock. I had sharp pain in both knees. I got up and forced myself to move because I didn't want to seize up and get in more bother. That wasn't so easy, and my first attempts at running were aborted. I felt sick with the pain, but I'd landed on grass so I believed nothing was broken. After a few minutes of walking I went back to a slow jog. I was angry with myself for letting this happen, but also thankful it hadn't happened on the rocks.

As I neared Foel Grach, I spotted a large group with rucksacks on. From the branding on their shirts, I knew they were an adventure group that my brother in law was with for the weekend. I stopped and asked them if he was there. A marshall overheard, and said he'd left an hour prior. I was unlikely to catch him, but it was nice to know I'd crossed paths.

The long descent was dull but easy, and I was moving well again. I passed quite a number of people who were fading with the heat and probably from dehydration over the long section. I'd continued to stay on target with both drinking and eating and felt pretty good. I pushed to keep good momentum all the way down, even though the descent felt frustratingly long.

I mostly keep myself to myself in these runs. I have the odd chat, but refrain from getting too engaged in long chats whilst running as I want to manage my pace. I like dealing with the challenge in my own head. I exchanged words with various runners as I passed, by had no plans to hang around as I pushed to get to the aid station.

I made a fairly quick stop at the marquee by Llyn Eigiau. I was the first to break the seal on the hot chocolate; I find hot drinks useful for variety, to settle the stomach and get some calories in. Hot chocolate seemed like a good option at this point. I wasn't really enjoying the limited selection of snacks, but kept forcing the Naak waffles and energy bars in, in small morsels. I was aware that the next section wasn't particularly long or difficult, but it could take a few hours so I should still take care to properly refuel.

Leg 3: Llyn Eigiau - Capel Curig

Llyn Eigiau in the distance

Wild ponies playing at Llyn Eigiau

Heading in to dusk at Llyn Cowlyd

With headtorch on, I headed out in the rapidly disappearing daylight. Given the less obvious route through the heather, having my head torch pick out the reflective flags made things easier. As I passed the end of Llyn Cowlyd, rejoining the 2024 route, I checked my watch and established that I'd slipped behind last year's timings. No matter, this was a long race, but I'd definitely lost ground through nausea and consequent time spent at checkpoints.

When I hit the road at Capel Curig, I expected to find a checkpoint. After a brief stint along the tarmac, the signs took us off into the woods. I paused and chatted to another runner. We were both confused that we hadn't reached the checkpoint. We weren't aware of a venue change, but there had been no indication of it on the road, and the GPS plot didn't indicate that either. We followed the course markings into the woods, but I didn't see how it could be out here as we were heading into the inaccessible woods below Moel Siabod. I phoned the race director's number, and the responder eventually confirmed that we should continue on our course. It turned out that the route stayed low in the woods, and the venue was a building near the outdoor centre, on the opposite side of the lake. There must be an access route to that land that I wasn't aware of, above the lake.

Capel Curig was the first big maintenance stop - I would do foot care, sock and t-shirt change and eat a hot meal. I set about the tasks with purpose. The veg curry was good, and I also had a coffee. I determined that the toe socks I'd been testing were working well, so after cleaning and re-lubing my feet, I put on a fresh pair.

Leg 4: Capel Curig - Dolwyddelan

Moel Siabod is a significant climb, reaching 872m. In this direction, the ascent presents no technical difficulty- that is saved for the descent. I was in clear air for most of the ascent, enjoying being in my own thoughts. I was looking forward to the descent, but not feeling particularly nimble. After the long trudge up, I said hello to the marshalls at the summit, confirming that I was fine. I set about the difficult scrambling of the descent. I was quickly irritated by the poor course-marking; last year it was mostly good (with one exception, mentioned in my post). This year, every time I arrived at a flag, I couldn't see the next, and found myself weaving around to find it. The route down is not obvious, and there are big drops to the left, so this was unhelpful. I wasn't as agile with the descent as usual, and felt like I was making hard work of it.

I was glad when the route started levelling out. The varied woodland section was interesting, and then began the plod down the fire roads. I didn't mind such tedium today, and just settled in to a rhythm. I knew it wasn't very long until the checkpoint. Other runners around me were fading now that we were into the early hours; it is a difficult time to keep going.

My mood had dipped a bit by the time I hit the checkpoint. I was a bit irritated by a wait for the toilet, the limited seating in the room and the lack of decent food options. I pushed myself to eat and drink a bit, but didn't stay long. I wanted to stay on my timings, and was targeting a sleep at or near the next checkpoint at Blaeneau Ffestiniog.

Leg 5: Dolwyddelan - Blaeneau Ffestiniog

It was a quiet trudge up and over the moor at Y Ro Wen. The lack of rain in recent weeks made it less of an ordeal as the path passes over much boggy grassland. Today, it was almost dry. Daylight gradually emerged, but the air was still cool. When the first remnants of the old quarry came in to view, I was still feeling ok - no desperation to be at the checkpoint, no urgent need to sleep. It wasn't really warm enough for an outdoor sleep, so I kept plodding along.

The route from the disused Cwt-y-bugail quarry down to Maen-offeren is interesting, and the reservoir can be beautiful, but is also usually a boggy mess of a trail. Not so this time, my feet were staying dry.

Ascending the moor to Y Ro Wen, in the early hours

Descending to Blaeneau Ffestiniog, early morning. Moelwyn Mawr in the distance

As I worked my way through the town just before 06.00, it became apparent that the checkpoint venue had changed here also. I tried to contact Claire to make sure she'd found the new location. She was asleep back at the campsite, having had an alarm failure.

The checkpoint was in a building with a big hall. There were some sofas available, so I grabbed a spot to attempt a 15 min sleep. It didn't really work, but my eyelids had rested. I tried getting food in, but once again was struggling with the lack of savoury options. I ate whatever I could, then got moving again.

Leg 6: Blaeneau Ffestiniog - Croesor

I was feeling a bit weary, but certainly in better shape that the previous year, where the combination of sleep deprivation and poor fuelling had left me feeling awful. The day was warming up, and I had to peel off layers as I worked my way up the old quarries from Tanygrisiau. The scale of the quarries above Cwmorthin is immense. I picked my way up the slate climbs and inbetween the old buildings until I was finally back out onto the moorland.

There were quite a number or runners nearby as I traversed the side of the hill at Llyn Stwlan. We ascended the awkward scramble up Moelwyn Mawr in formation. Arriving at the top, the views were stunning but the wind was also strong. I took care along the narrow edge.

Cwmorthin Quarry

Llyn Stwlan

Moelwyn Mawr

I knew only too well what was to come next. The drop down to Croesor first means a very direct drop down some steep grassy slopes. With no blisters yet but sore knees, I took them on with a gentle patter. I was moving well, but it wasn't comfortable. the final part of the steep descent is what must be some old quarry track - a raised path heading straight down the contours, with patches of slate on it. It is a fierce descent by any measure, hard on the knees and torturous to blisters. Yet today, it wasn't causing my the problems of the previous year or indeed the recce visits I'd made. It didn't seem a long time before I was turned on to the farm track to jog down to the checkpoint. Another runner I'd been exchanging comments with as we descended was content to walk from that point, but I stuck with my plan to run whenever I could; I kept up a jog until I arrived at the building.

I was passed my drop bag by a marhsall, headed inside and found a seat. The checkpoint was busy, and people waited for hot food to become available. As I waited, I sorted through my kit. It was time for a change of clothes, some food maintenance, device-charging and swapping items between my drop bag and my race pack. This all took a long while, but was essential stuff. The hot and spicy curry went down surprisingly well, and I had several drinks. My feet were still in good shape, and were treated to a clean, lube and fresh socks.

Leg 7: Croesor - Gwastadannas

I looked forward to the climb and scramble over Cnicht; it is a fun and dramatic peak, giving some amazing views back over Moelwyn Mawr. The approach was longer than I remembered, and less interesting, but the climb itself gets more fun as you get nearer the summit.

I was far less excited about the tedious trudge over the moorland, passing Moel Meirch, and arriving at the Nant Gwynant valley. It is an often pathless stretch, picking over grassy and boggy moorland, and the landscape seems to repeat itself many times over. It was mercifully dry, yet no more interesting than usual. I found myself in clear air again, and was probably talking to myself a bit too much. When I finally started descending with some familiar hills in view, I also spotted runners ahead. Aiming to catch and pass them provided me with some motivation and relieved the boredom.

My support crew greeted me at the road with a quick hello. They thought I'd gone off course due to my location tracking, but it must have been inaccuracies of positioning under the trees. The final stretch along tarmac to the checkpoint was equally as boring as I remembered. I was slowing and in need of a break.

The heat had built up again and I knew I needed to cool off. I'd found a couple of opportunities to dunk my cap and buff, so had kept things under control, but time in shelter at the checkpoint would help. My fuelling efforts had continued to be good, but topping up fluids and eating extra food at the stop were important to get me back on track.

Leg 8: Gwastadannas - Beddgelert

The heat was stifling as I picked through the woodland above Llyn Gwynant. Once out of the woods, I had to take every opportunity to cool at a stream. I was going pretty slowly and my mood had dropped. My support crew found me for a hello as I crossed the road between the lakes. It was a rare, runnable section of the race, but I was lacking energy and was fighting to stay cool. Little had changed when I reached the bottom of Llyn Dinas, the foot of the climb over to Aberglaslyn. The climb was a slow plod, and I was leaning hard in to my poles. As I reached the top, feeling battered by the heat, my heart sank as I really wasn't ready for a downhill run. I took it on with some reluctance, my knees objecting to any complicated footing. The heat was still getting to me, and I was keen to find the waterfall I knew was near the bottom.

Approach Cnicht

Cnicht, looking back to Moelwyn Mawr and the steep-sided hill I'd dropped down

Cnicht, looking over Croesor to Tremadoc Bay

When I found the waterfall, it was more awkward to get to than I remembered, and my tired legs didn't fancy the scramble down. I figured there would be a stream opportunity, so I held out. I reached the car park at the bottom, and wrapped round to follow the river along the beautiful slate trail. I was overheating, and should be grabbing the chance to cool, yet somehow I passed on each chance. The clear pools in the river looked so inviting, but any awkwardness to get to the water was deterring me. I'd almost missed every chance as I neared the river crossing point at the old railway. Then I spotted a route to the water and took it. I felt self-conscious as I stumbled near a couple playing by the water. I awkwardly got onto my knees at the edge of the water and tried to stick my arms and the top of my head in. It was proving difficult on the uncomfortable pebbles, but I just about managed. What I really wanted to do was swim.

A bit cooler but still feeling weary, I plodded on to the town where I met my supporters. We made our way along to the aid station. Feeling pretty despondent, I was slow doing my normal checkpoint tasks. I was forcing myself to eat and drink, knowing it would help the situation. With the prospect of the brutal Moel Hebog, the insanely steep climb to the Nantle ridge and some scrambling to come, I was doubting my ability to finish the race. There was such a long way still to go, and so many difficult climbs. Considering what was still to come, I decided to make my sock change earlier than planned - it was better to defend my foot condition now and stand a chance of running the last parts of the race. As yet, I still had no blisters.

Leg 9: Beddgelert - Rhyd-Ddu

The fuelling efforts at the CP were still taking effect. I carried half a banana with me, as I had on exit of a number of checkpoints - a few more easily digested calories. After the plod through the farm and across a field, I reached the foot of Moel Hebog. There is no gentle introduction with this climb - you are quickly launched into a steep grassy climb. As you climb, the full challenge starts to reveal itself as the terrain turns rocky. The race route is relentlessly steep as it picks a very direct course up involving scrambling up some big rocks and handling scree.

The calories must have kicked in some way up the climb as my mood was returning. I chatted to another runner a bit on the higher sections. They were unsure of the route, but I was pretty confident on where I was meant to be going and pressed on. As the hill rolled off at the top, my running legs had returned, and I was gearing up for the descent.

I briefly took in the views from the top. Beddgelert looked a very long way down after a relatively short period of time; it sits a little above sea level, with Moel Hebog summit at 782m. The views were stunning, with the sea and beaches of Tremadoc Bay visible beyond to the south, and the sharp summit of Moel Siabod easily identifiable to the north-east.

Approaching Moel Hebog

Scrambling on Moel Hebog

Moel Hebog, looking over Beddgelert and Llyn Dinas to Moel Siabod

Starting the descent off Moel Hebog towards the Nantle Ridge

Below Moel Lefn

Descending Moel Lefn to Princess Quarry

Looking towards the Nantle Ridge. The steepness is lost in this picture

Pressing on to finish Nantle Ridge in daylight

Nantle Ridge

Looking back at the scramble over Mynydd Drws-y-Coed

Knowing I had left the checkpoint at least 20 minutes behind my 2024 timing, I had started feeling concern about the latter part of this leg; between Mynydd Drws-y-Coed and Y Garn, at the end of the Nantle ridge, was some difficult scrambling on an exposed section. It is always a challenge in the dry, but more so in the wet and/or dark. Whilst dry today, my current timing meant I could be facing it in the dark. This gave me sufficient motivation to keep up a brisk pace.

I cut my conversations with the other runner short, and set about getting off the hill as rapidly as my knees would allow. I was faring better than last year, without question - my feet were in good shape, and my knees were working ok. I enjoyed picking over the relatively straightforward but interesting Moel yr Ogof and Moel Lefn, on my own in the quiet hills now. As on previous visits, I found myself fascinated by the beautiful, abandoned Princess Quarry - nature has taken over and at this time of year there are all sorts of plants and flowers dominating the landscape. It is clearly not a well-trodden area.

After skipping round the rocky curve below Y Gyrn, some race marshalls came into view. They offered me water refills, but I needed nothing as I'd left the last stop with full bottles. I told them of my ambition to do the ridge in daylight, and pressed on. The two-part climb up to Trum y Ddysgl is shockingly steep, though straightforward on grass. It didn't phase me, I was pushing to get round this section. As I neared the scrambling section, the sun began to disappear below the horizon. There was still sufficient daylight, and I kept moving as well as I could. My confidence on the rocks was slightly limited by feeling a bit too stiff to be agile, but I was doing ok - probably better than on my recce visit. I took care on the more exposed bits, ensuring good grip with my hands and sure footing.

The sun had gone out of sight for the final technical bit, but I was able to get to Y Garn in daylight, and only put on my head torch as I started the descent. I called Claire, and told her to look out for my torch from her position at the checkpoint. I was probably an hour away, but she'd have a clear view up to Y Garn. My sustained push along the ridge had put me in clear air, and I was the only torch up high, so she immediately spotted me. Eva flashed a torch back at me from the checkpoint. The descent felt as fierce and hard on my toes as on previous visits, but the dry ground made it significantly easier to negotiate. I knew I'd killed off a little toe nail at some point during the race; it is very hard to prevent your toes bashing the end of your shoes on such descents.

The plod along the flat before the aid station was boring. There was now a long line of headtorches working their way down the hill behind me. I was ready for a break and some hot food. I was in relatively decent shape when I arrived, but I needed to get a lot of calories in. I had a couple of bowls of leek and potato soup, which also helped with rehydration. I chatted to a fellow runner from my village who was crewing for a friend. I discovered that there were beds available, and decided that I'd do an earlier sleep this time, to try and set myself up better for the Snowdon climb; I put my head down for 10 mins.

Leg 10: Ryhd-Ddu - Bron-y-Fedw uchaf

I didn't come away from the sleep feeling fresh. Compared to last year, when I motored up the second Snowdon climb with strength, despite blistered feet, today I was feeling very weary. I was quite grumpy, and felt too familiar with this climb. In the day, it offers stunning views back to Moel Hebog and the surrounding hills. At night, there is nothing to see except the loose stones in front of you, and the stream of headtorches a long way up the mountain. It seemed like a very long plod, and I found myself irritated by the loose rocks as I tried to use my poles to propel myself. As I reached the edge at Llechog, there was a strong breeze and it was cooler than before. I had closed in on some other runners as I reached Bwlch Main, and passed some on the final stretch before the visitor centre at the summit.

This was a key moment in the race as I recalled where last year's race got very tough indeed - at 82 miles into the race, my feet were sufficiently blistered that I couldn't run downhill at all, and just keeping moving was painful. No such problems today, I set off downhill with a modest run. My knees were allowing some skipping around on the rocks, and I found myself going quicker than a lot of the 100km runners who had also joined this route at Snowdon summit.

Approaching the visitor centre at Snowdon summit

As I descended with many other runners around me, the temp rapidly warmed, now we were away from the exposed top. My momentum was reducing and I started feeling fatigued. In a mirror image of last year, by the time we peeled off the Rhyd-Ddu track and onto private farmland, where the slope began to ease, my running legs had departed. Where last year I'd picked up a jog and determinedly held it all the way to the checkpoint, this time I'd had enough for this leg and was reduced to a walk. As we'd neared the grasslands, the temperature had very noticeably dropped, and it was cold. By distance, it was 2 miles from departing Rhyd-Ddu to reaching the checkpoint, but it felt a horribly long way at walking pace. I could see the lights from a long way off, but I couldn't muster a run to finish the job.

It was really cold in the valley, and marquee retained almost no heat. I had to dig out my gilet to wear while I was stopped. After picking at some food, I decided I was weary enough that another sleep would help. I opted for 10 mins on one of the beds. I must have drifted off as my alarm woke me. I felt awful, and ready to plunge into the deepest of sleeps. I snoozed my alarm for another 10 mins, but after 4 mins my brain told me this wouldn't help - my body wanted to abandon now, but that wasn't an option. I dragged myself up and quickly got prepped to leave the checkpoint.

Leg 11: Bron-y-Fedw uchaf - Betws Garmon

I set off from the checkpoint with layers on, but feeling really cold. I knew that a solid stint of running would sort that out, so I set a decent pace. Many 100km runners were now mixed in with the 100m competitors, and I was passing people along the road before we entered the woods. Knowing there was a stretch of single track, I pushed to get in clear air. It worked well as I found myself alone again through the woods and moving well.

The grassy climbs up Mynydd Mawr are brutally steep and unforgiving. The only thing to do was keep good momentum. The sun started to appear as I was on the higher part of the climb. Once over the top, I knew I only had a couple or so miles to the checkpoint, and after the descent it was just a plod along the grassy flats. My knees were supporting me well, and I was doing ok descending the steep trail, but my brain was starting to shut down as tiredness kicked in. I repeatedly stopped and stood for a moment, and I think I was actually falling asleep, only to be woken as I started to topple over. But each time, I was able to start running again. As I reached the lower part of the climb, my brain lost the ability to process what it was seeing. I spotted something large on a grassy mound, which I could only identify as some kind of disused space craft or 1990s Japanese MPV. I knew it was a big rock, but I just couldn't see it as that. I'd spot objects in the path, and be completely unable to identify them.

Mynydd Mawr, approach sunrise

The bog at the foot of the climb was not much of a challenge after all the dry weather. Likewise, the marshy section over to Tyddyn Bach presented no issues, or not to me at least - I found myself passing a group who seemed to be far too worried about the possibility of a wet foot. Not long after the woodland section, Bryn Gloch campsite came into view. My support crew were staying at the site, and waved to me as I arrived - I just about figured out it was them. I was a little confused about how to get to the site, with a river inbetween us; it wasn't how I remembered.

I entered the checkpoint at 0530, having to organise myself without my supporters due to race rules. I must have looked a bit wrecked by this point. I was struggling to identify my checkpoint tasks; when the volunteer asked what I wanted in my bottles, I couldn't really answer, and I faffed around trying to figure out how to get Tailwind powder in to a couple of the bottles. I couldn’t seem to manage this simple task, so gave up and asked for water in one bottle and coke in the other. I made some efforts to eat as I needed some calories to get me to the end, but didn't worry too much this time.

Leg 12: Betws Garmon - Llanberis

It was a chilly morning, but pushing to run the section of ascent to the woodland helped me warm up, and I stopped to strip off my jacket. The entrance to the woodland was covered in chopped pine, which was a bit of a hazard. However, getting through the woodland seemed a bit easier than the previous year. I emerged on to the fields moving well, and tried to keep my momentum. By the time I reached the quarry at Bwlch-y-groes, I needed to go back from leggings to shorts, so stopped to prep for the final miles.

Garreg-fawr near Betws Garmon. The tree-felling made for interesting running

Views ascending Moel Eilio

The first false summit of Moel Eilio

Descending Moel Eilio

Heading towards Foel Gron, looking over Llyn Dwythwch with Llanberis in view to the left

It was a stunning bright morning as I hit the first slopes of Moel Eilio. Last year, in blazing sunshine, I'd paused and lay down on the course here, and fallen fully asleep. I was taking no such chances today, keeping a jog along the flat, and a purposeful walk as I took on the climb. It is a demoralising 1.5 mile grassy climb, with repeated false summits. My relief at reaching the top was premature; my simplistic view of the remainder of the course was that I'd now drop down steeply to the tracks of the Afon Arddu valley that lead back to Llanberis. I'd forgotten about Foel Gron and Foel Goch.

I was pleased with my purposeful descent off Moel Eilio. My knees and feet had let me run down well. When I saw runners ahead going up another climb, I realised I wasn't done yet. I figured there must be one more small climb, so I kept running where I could, and walked up the fairly steep climb. Another ascent, which I thought definitely must be the last, but it was the same thing again. I didn't bother to check my map, and just pressed on up the third climb. This time, I knew it was the last; I recognised the stony bits of the descent, and could see the track crossing ahead. Last year I'd lost several places as runners passed me down the final steep descent, my blisters making it almost impossible to get off the hill. This time, it was me passing other runners, with strength in my knees and confidence in my footing. It didn't take long. When I arrived at the Llanberis track, I felt a sense of relief that I'd done it; the only thing left was a plod down to the finish.

Understandably, many runners struggle with this final section due to fatigue and any other ailments they are carrying, finding themselves walking even though it is an easy track and a light descent. Last year, with heavily blistered feet, I held a gentle run for the last three and a bit miles to the finish, despite the constant pain. There was no question this year - I'd be running all the way. Other runners around me seemed a bit surprised, and I disappeared off from several of them. I was passing more and more people with the very steady jog I was holding. One seemed to take exception, and came firing back past me, only to revert to a walk ahead. Of course, I passed him again, and he made a slightly disgruntled comment about me overtaking, not realising were weren't even in the same event. He seemed to have forgotten it was a race, and his manners.

My timing for the final road descent to the town was perfect - the 25km event had just started, and so the entire field came past me. Seeing my name badge and the event I was on, they gave a lot of encouragement, saying "go on Sam" and applauding. I arrived on the streets of the town feeling strong. The marshalls directed me on to the road going round the back of the slate museum. This was a little sting in the tail as I (and other runners, I later found out) thought I was done. After the extra little loop, I mustered the energy for a speedy run through the finish line. I was directed through to collect my medal. I found some shade, sat on the grass and stripped my shoes and socks off.

I'd knocked 40 mins off my previous year's time, despite being 30 mins behind at Rhyd-Ddu; I'd made up time on each of the final three legs. I felt a slight disappointment as something significantly better seemed possible this weekend, but these races are complex; a lot of elements need to come together. Despite disrupted training, and knee injury, heat-induced nausea and a fall on the course, I'd got round confidently and beaten my time. 100-miler #6 in the bag, a PR and some more UTMB stones earned to help me get a place on the flagship race next year. And I'd finished without a single blister.

Finishing strong