Ultra Marathon DNF: Wicklow Way Ultra 2018

Introduction:

The Wicklow Way Ultra is an IMRA organised foot race that starts at midnight and runs 127km through the Wicklow and Dublin Mountains. Only a hundred or so participants can take part and must qualify by running an event of distance equal or greater than 50km. Having run the 80km Slí na Gealtacht na Mhurcai Ultra earlier in the year I had the necessary qualifying race completed to enter.

Build up:

The week before the race I was excited. Not doing any tough training, just going for a light walk during my lunch break most days. Eating healthy and stretching out in the evenings trying to go to bed early in an effort to build energy for the race.

The Day Before:

Friday I got up for work as I would any other day and went about my regular morning routine.That day at work was not my most productive, nonetheless when it came time to leave I didn't delay and as quick as I could I was on the road towards Naas to meet Rosa. When I arrived, we had something to eat, sharing a Hawaiian pizza together. Happy to be eating familiar food after our experience at the Great Wall Marathon in China.

I then left Naas for Marley Park where race registration was located. Driving down the M50 I had the tunes blaring loud getting excited.

Registration:

At registration you sign your name, are given a race number and you give the details of your emergency contact, Rosa has recently stepped into this role as I knew she might have some interest in how I would be getting on in the race and watch my tracker online. The next step was to proceed to gear check.  An ultra in Ireland can involve unpredictable weather conditions that can lead to the mandatory gear list seeming long:

                • Waterproof jacket with tapped seams

                • Waterproof trousers

                • Headlight with spare batteries

                • Reflective clothing

                • Whistle

                • Foil blanket

                • Gloves

                • Food and water

                • Map of the route

                • Compass

                • Hat or buff

                • GPS Tracker

                • Fully charged phone

This gear must be carried at all times. Following gear check I queued to have my GPS tracker attached and a picture taken. This would be the eye in the sky through which people could track my progress and where my time would be recorded. The next step was to present my pre-prepared drop bags, that would be at each of the checkpoints as I would arrive. Each bag contained something different as you are never quite sure what you can stomach on any day. In each bag was something like - fig rolls, salty crisps, jellies, baked beans, cans of coke, bananas and energy gels. I prefer to use Isogels as they are easy on my stomach, they don't need to be mixed with water and come in a few different flavors with Raspberry being my favorite.

Once all the formalities at registration were completed I made my way to the car and turning my booth into a changing area got ready for the race while making a few final adjustments to my race vest which would contain all my gear as I ran. The bus that would take us to the starting line was leaving at 9pm to make its way to Clonegal in Carlow. On the bus people chatted about the race, the other events they had planned and how different the race was going to be this year as it was going to be run in the opposite direction to previous years. Once we were further along on the M7 most people tried to rest or catch some sleep as the sun went down.

Starting Line:

Total darkness had set in as we arrived into the quiet town of Clonegal. Apart from a few street lights scattered around the perimeter of the square, the strongest light in the town came from the pub where startled smokers out on the step of the entrance looked on confused as two buses of alien men and women arrived wearing Hi-Visibility running gear. The bus had arrived very early so we had a lot of time to kill before the race countdown. As I sat on a wall, I struck up a conversation with the man next to me. As the conversation began to flow I could quickly tell I was talking to a much different beast than me. This man spoke about races around the alps, adventure races lasting days and some of the perks of being a sponsored athlete. As the conversation continued to grow interesting he mentioned he was not long back from supporting his buddy Eoin Keith in the Barkley Marathons which takes place in America and has built a strong reputation as being the most grueling event in Ultra Running. Richard Nunan (@Richard.Nunan) was his name.

A shout went out from the race director and all the participants huddled close together beside the sign for start of the Wicklow Way Route. The Director shared some last-minute instructions and then in the final minute approaching midnight she counted us down.

The Wicklow Way Ultra was underway.

The race:

Cautious of the distance and the effort that would be required for the day, I started off quite slow. The start of the route was on road for several kilometers, with no frightening big hills as they would come later in the day. Outside of the light emitted from the runner’s head torches there was nothing much to see. The moon was covered by cloud with few stars making themselves visible. I was in my own little world as I tried to relax, control my breathing and enjoy running free at night in one of the most bad ass races in Ireland.

As the night went on, I got myself into a group of about six people and we made good progress at a comfortable pace. Cruising past Checkpoint 1 at 17 km and onto Checkpoint 2 at the 28 km mark in the wonderfully named location "Dying Cow".  The group broke up a small bit here as some continued and others stopped to gather supplies. When I run Ultras they can turn into eating contests just as much as they are about the running. I stopped grabbed some small snacks and moved on as quick as I could. The route continued to take us along the road. It's nicer to run in groups at night, if you can find a pace that matches your race expectations. As I wasn't sure of the route I was glad to have a few around me who were familiar with the trail. The next section of the route was my favorite as the route went along a road for a few kilometers and then onto a single track trail. The grass was up to my knees, In the distance I could see the sun starting to rise on one side and the moon disappearing to the other side. It was peaceful and in that moment as I  ran it was beautiful to be outside.

Eventually the trail emerged out on to a secondary road that led us into the Iron Bridge Checkpoint which was 50 km into the race. The time had flown by and I felt good. Iron Bridge was located close to a stream and as I ran into the checkpoint the place was black with midges (or mosquitoes) flying around. The checkpoint was torture as I got multiple bites and shuffled constantly trying to swat them off myself. I left the checkpoint as quick as I could to flee from the insect attack. As I took to the hill straight out of the Iron Bridge Checkpoint I could see the bites on my leg’s starting to inflame and rise in my skin. At this point I thought nothing of it, I’ve been bitten numerous times by all manner and type of insect which thankfully never resulted in any ill affect.

Glad to be progressing forward with a significant checkpoint under my belt I was growing in confidence as I started to enjoy the trail narrowing out. Ray Lawlor a friend of mine was with me from early that morning and we continued to run together, our conversations during this time where very enjoyable. The sun was now starting to shine and we could feel the pleasurable morning heat on our backs. The trail narrowed leading us to run in single file descending through pine forest. At one point I looked back to see where Ray was, he was a few yards behind me but this did not alarm me as he was running better than me that day and he has this balanced economical shuffle that has taken him far in terms of completing some of the toughest ultra’s in Ireland. Ray would be well capable of catching up with me. As I ran on by myself a doe deer ran out onto the trail, had a look at me and jumped up off the trail into the overgrowth of the forest. Further on as the road leveled out sure enough Ray caught up with me and we ran on together once again.

The sun was shining strong as the heat started to rise, the trails started to improve underfoot and the surrounding countryside was beautiful. The distance was starting to take its toll on me, now 60 km into the race I was managing the heat well, had no cramps or muscle fatigue and my nutrition was on point. All this was going well; however, I did have some pain in my feet. My right ankle was giving me some frustration as it pained me slightly. Pain is something you get familiar with running in Ultra’s and you learn from experience that more often than not it goes away with time. What might hurt between 40 to 50 km could be grand between 50 to 60 km. So, with that I continued at a slower pace in the hope that I might recover while continuing to make forward progress to the next checkpoint. The next checkpoint was located at 63 km in Glenamure. Ray and myself made it into Glenamure together, with Ray feeling much stronger than me at this point. We topped up our water supplies, applied some sun screen and I ate a delicious rasher that the volunteers had on offer.

Leaving Glenamure I felt what was previously only a faint pain in my ankle had now increased and was starting to become very uncomfortable. I told myself:

“Keep going, it’ll come back right with time if you pace yourself, you have just taken on food and you'll get an energy hit soon, I know this part of the route and I can do well on this section”

Ray and myself continued running together. We had now run approximately 67 km and even though I was not my usual chatty self I appreciated talking to Ray and it kept me going forward ticking off the kilometers towards our end goal. As we hiked up to the top of Glendalough I was happy enough with how I was performing, the view was once again amazing. Close to the top of the hill I reached the boardwalk and needed to break out of my hiking stride into a light run if I was to maintain the time I had built up. As I started to run on the board walk the pain in my ankle increased and I now ran with a limp. Glad to reach the top of the hill, I taught gravity would be of welcome assistance in getting to the bottom of Glendalough. 

Unfortunately, I couldn’t have been more wrong. As I lifted my right ankle I felt pain as it both lifted off the ground and hit the ground again with each stride. I was slowing down at an alarming rate and thought for the first time that this might be something different to the usual muscle cramp or niggle that I am used to during an ultra. It got to the point where Ray and myself needed to part ways, as he was in much better shape and I was only holding him back. I wished Ray the best of luck and he slowly shuffled off.

I aimed to keep him within sight for as long as I could and managed to do so for a period. However, with each step the pain continued. I lost sight of Ray before I got to Glendalough. I walked or jogged where I could through the national park trying to just keep moving forward and was glad of the shade the trees offered as I progressed. Since Ray had left me I had slowed down a lot, was in pain, roasted with the heat and starting to get passed out by other participants.

Struggling along a beautiful winding route in a forest coming out of Glendalough I knew I had a short distance to cover to make it to the next checkpoint located at 80 km. The idea of dropping out of the race crossed my mind as I now walked in pain. I got an applause form the crowd of supporters that had assembled at the checkpoint as soon as I became visible and was ushered to a chair in the shade to gather myself together. The guy to my left sat dejected as he had just told the Race Administrator that he wanted to drop out. This man had given it everything and he retreated into the shade to battle with the decision he made. It was easy to see he was frustrated as he got up regularly to ask different people for a lift to the finishing line. I changed my socks and popped some of the blisters that had appeared on my feet. I watched that man struggle with the decision he made and the tortures of dropping out. With a new pair of socks, some fresh sun cream applied and some food on board I felt much better. The pain in my ankle was still present. I gathered up the courage to make the most important decision of the day - too either continue or drop out. I asked the Race Administrator how long I had to complete the 24 km to the next checkpoint , he responded by saying that I had 6 hours to get to Crone. As I weighed this up, I looked at the guy who dropped out sitting frustrated in the shade. I said to hell with it, I would rather go out having tried my best opposed to dropping out and tortureing myself waiting for a lift while wondering if I had made the right the decision. Jumping up out of the chair I told the Race Administrator – “James Morrissey Checking Out of Checkpoint”. Trekking out of the checkpoint alone I realized the huge battle ahead of me. The trek out of the Glendalough Checkpoint is beautiful as it rolls up hairpin style through young hardwood forest before emerging onto a steep grassy hill.

The hike was hard but it was ok as my foot was coping better going uphill. As the route leveled out the pain increased again. The next 15 km was downhill on road and was tough as the surface was brutally hard on my ankle and the downhill motion was causing serious pain. Through the forest I picked up two sticks and used them as hiking poles and pushed on reaching the steps of Djouce then running along I was breathing heavy trying to manage the pain and then pushing on again up the board walk to the top of Djouce Mountain. Then at the top the pain set in and reached new limits as I tried to descend. This time I couldn’t even contain the pain and would let out a groan or a mean grrrrr each time my right foot hit the ground.

Dropping out didn’t even occur to me as I was on top of a mountain. I would still have to find my way down off the mountain regardless if this was a race or not. Therefore, I was determined to just keep going. A lot of people passed me out on the decent.

In absolute pain I limped in to the Checkpoint at Crone and sat down in a chair. I had made it with 20 min to spare which I knew was slow. I had completed 104 km to get to this point.

The team of race volunteers were amazing at Crone Wood, their energy fed through to me despite feeling the worst I have felt in many years. As I sat down taking on calories, I began to change my shoes and prepare myself for the final sections. Once again I could see the dejected look on the people around me who dropped out. They were in such better condition than me and it frustrated me to look at them walking around saying that the race was tough. Out of pure frustration and stupidity I once again got up to tell the Race Director that I was continuing. Running out of the checkpoint I knew deep down that this was a stupid decision as the pain in my ankle continued to escalate but my new shoes acted as a cushion. I told myself these new shoes are going to solve everything, they did not.

Pushing myself to my absolute limit I ran to the bottom of Prince Williams Seat expecting another intermediate checkpoint - there was nothing there. Prince Williams seat is a long incline on the Wicklow side of the Dublin Mountains consisting of forest road, single track, flag stone steps and then a long decent down along a gravel fire road to the final checkpoint at Boranaraltry Bridge. This decent was going to be gruelling considering how long it took me to come down off of Djouce. Time was against me to get to the next checkpoint; the top of that hill is very isolated so if I fell I would have been in serious trouble. The pain was becoming unbearable as I was grinding my teeth with each step.

Dropping Out:

At 106 km the race was over for me and admitting that to myself was just as painful as my ankle. A woman at the final road section before Prince Williams Seat was supporting her husband in the race and  took sympathy on me. She kindly brought me in the passenger seat of her car to the next checkpoint. While in the car I could hardly speak with tiredness, pain and the realization that I had dropped out not reaching my end goal. When that kind lady dropped me off at Boranaraltry Bridge I couldn’t walk as my foot had swollen so large. Limping now had become a struggle and I needed to be linked by the Checkpoint Crew to a seat in the shade until a lift to the finish line could be organised. I couldn’t understand why the pain in my ankle was even there to start with. Looking back on the race I could not remember hitting my ankle off anything or twisting it. This frustrated me as I had developed serious pain that had led to me dropping out of the biggest race of my year and I could not attribute a root cause as to why it occurred. Eventually I got a lift back to the start and once I got their I stretched myself out across a grassy lawn behind my car. On the grass  it felt like being in a 5 Star hotel bed. With the combination of pain, hunger, tiredness, sunburn and the shear disappointment of dropping out I was both mentally and physically spent. Sleep came down on me within seconds of hitting the grass. Shamelessly I slept on that lawn in a car park of a supermarket close to Marley Park in Dublin.

Going Home:

Not knowing how long I had been asleep, the vibration of my phone woke me up. It was Rosa ringing me. Our plan had been for me to run the race, jump into the car to her house and celebrate with her. Earlier in the day Rosa had an eye on my tracker and knew things were not going to plan, as I was way off my intended times. As a result, Rosa took the bus and got herself to Marley Park to see me come in. Waiting at the finish line Rosa knew that something was amiss and rang me. On the phone I directed Rosa to my car. As she was on her way I tried to get myself up off the ground and into some sort of decent shape to greet her. In doing so I realized that even with a rest my ankle was still in pain and was swollen to such a degree that I couldn’t move it. Driving home wasn’t going to be an option. Despite my best efforts to look like a functioning healthy human, Rosa knew straight away I was in bad shape. Failing to convince her I was alright I explained how my day had gone and how I was frustrated at having to drop out for reasons I could not yet understand. Eventually the time came to determine how we were going to get home. Rosa had very little experience driving and what experience she had was from driving in Spain on the opposite side of the road to Ireland. In a supermarket car park beside Marley Park we had our first driving lesson as we drove around in a circle identifying how the indicators and other nuances of my car worked. Once the driving course was completed and we both agreed we were ready for road. Fair play to Rosa she got us both home safely.

Diagnosis Realization:

Following a good night’s sleep with my foot elevated I had recovered from the dehydration, sunburn and exhaustion but the pain in my ankle remained with the swelling still big. After struggling to make it down the stairs for breakfast the realization came that a good night’s sleep wasn’t going to fix whatever it was causing the pain. I decided it was time to stop putting the situation on long finger and asked Rosa to drive me to the hospital in Naas. The first step was with the nurse who took a few of my details and some blood samples. The nurse came back to me again with my blood results. The results were all on point except for my inflammation markers which were close to the 100 mark. This figure meant nothing to me, so I asked the nurse what it should normally be. To my shock she responded by saying “Typically its below 5”. The nurse pulled out a marker and drew a line around the area of my leg that was red and swollen. This was to keep an eye on the swelling and make sure it didn’t spread. 

The next step was to go for an X Ray to see if it could identify any issues. To my own confusion the results of the X Ray were clear. Then the nurse said that I’d like to treat you for Cellulitis. Immediately I wanted to know how could I have gotten this. Apparently, Cellulitis is an infection that can come about through a break in the skin leading to the tissue heating up. The nurse looked at my legs covered in insect bites that I picked up at Iron Bridge. It became apparent the insect bites led to a break in the skin which in turn led to an infection. Immediately the nurse put me on an IV drip with antibiotics and signed me off of work for the next week. The instructions given to me by the nurse was rest and make sure to keep my foot elevated for the week. Hobbling out of the hospital on crutches I got back to Rosa’s house and got comfortable with my leg elevated. This was how the rest of the week was going to be. 

Rehab:

One month after I took part in the Wicklow Way Race I was still bitterly disappointed at the fact I had to drop out over something so freakish as an insect bite. During my time off resting my foot a lot of people got in touch with horror stories from people they know who have picked up Cellulitis from doing mundane tasks outside. The muscle around the ankle shrunk and after getting the all clear from the doctor I was given a few daily exercises to get my flexibility and strength back. The physio’s approach was to “lengthen the muscles before you strengthen them”.

1 month and  2 weeks later I was able to go for a light run around the local trails at home while focusing on kayaking as well as spinning to keep my overall fitness up.

Take Away Points:

• I can run 100 Kilometers. I managed to do so on one leg for some six or more hours. In total I was out on the course for 18 hours on my feet. I had ambitiously planned on completing the 127 km in this time.

• There’s a big difference between being forced out and dropping out of a race. 

• As surprising as it may sound and even do I am still disappointed I didn’t finish -  This is why I do Ultra Marathons. The unknown factors that can occur. When you get to the starting line you have no idea if you’re going to finish because you have no idea what might happen over the course of 100 km or 100 miles depending on the race. There is always a challenge and in this instance the challenge is not letting one race ruin my season, as I now put in the necessary rehab and get back fit again.

I am sure the experience gathered from the 2018 Wicklow Way will stand to me and I look forward to tackling it again in the future. I know because of this experience it will be a lot more satisfying when I do complete my first 100 + Kilometer race.

Thanks for all the well wishes I received after the race. They were much appreciated.