The Dragons Back Race

A proud moment at Cardiff Castle, 4th overall, 2025

Before my first Dragons Back Race DNF, I was staying in South Wales with one of my closest friends. Myself and Siwan had just returned back to the UK after eight months adventuring in Europe and Kyrgyzstan and we were trying to figure out the next steps in life. One long winter evening, Rhys and I entered the Fan Dance. It was a bit of a side project to distract me from the realities of finding a new place to call home and find work. The Fan Dance is a January SAS test march replica where you traverse over Pen y Fan, twice. For us, it was reasonably hard yet doable challenge with two options: go light, or go heavy with an 18kg pack. I went all in and Rhys, sensibly, went light.

For most of the race, everything was going well, up until I approached Pen y Fan summit for the second time when a jolt of pain shot through my legs as they cramped up. I fumbled my way off the hill to the finish line while watching other competitors cruise past. This theme would become a familiar one for the next few years in almost every race or thing I did, and it’s a large part of the reason I was drawn into the world of ultra-distance events. I was curious and wanted to know why some people could do it well and why I struggled.

The Fan Dance finish line, Storey Arms, 2019

Let me tell you about my Dragon's Back story. It took three attempts. None of this has come naturally to me, and I point to the long list of DNFs to support saying that. It makes me think that anyone can achieve their version of success if they keep trying different approaches until something sticks. “It can be done“ is what I kept telling myself, clearly it took me a long time to figure out how it can be done.

After the Fan Dance, Rhys entered the Dragon Duathlon. The length of Wales on road bike and over the Welsh Three Peaks on foot, which was a notch up. I wanted my version, so I decided to enter the Dragons Back Race. It was roughly the same challenge in my head, being the length of Wales…

I had a year to prepare, it was a lockdown project. I poured all my energy into it reading books, looking at training plans, spending countless winter nights running in the hills after work, which was grim. Some people said in order to succeed in this, you need to be great in the mountains. This is partly true. Half of the Dragons Back course is tarmac or fire track, so you should be a solid runner too. That major detail didn’t cross my mind, so I just threw myself at the mountains.

First Attempt, 2021

I was feeling fit, and was the lightest I had been since I was a teenager. I had been doing well in local fell races and some longer events. I believed I had the potential to do well, although looking back I was quite naïve. Whenever I cramped or was in pieces at the end of a race, I put it to the back of my mind. I didn’t know how to deal with it so I just ignored those major inconveniences and assumed I’ll be okay.

The start of the Dragons Back Race, Conwy Castle - Photo borrowed from Visit Wales

That year turned into a heatwave and I wasn’t prepared for it. I wasn’t prepared for anything in fact. I was inexperienced and I made every mistake possible; went out too fast, terrible fuelling, didn’t drink or carry enough water, no electrolytes, dark clothing. You name it, I probably did it. I ended up in the medical tent that night with every inch of my body cramping (sorry and thanks, Nia).

Cooling off in a stream in the Rhinogs, 2021

Somehow, I got up the next day and blurred my way through day two, barely making cut offs. Fred, a friend and a gentle soul who is also hard as nails, kindly ushered me to the finish line, without him I wouldn’t have made it past day two. Fred completed the event that year.

I cracked on day three. I worked out I wouldn’t make cut off in Machynlleth, which made it a good excuse to quit. There was no phone signal, so I knocked on the nearest door and asked if I could use their phone. Siwan came to my rescue, and that was the end of that.

Rescue beer, I couldn’t drink it

Second Attempt, 2023

In 2023, I was back on the start line, with more experience and knowledge. I was leading RAW Adventures recce days for Dragons Back aspirants. I picked up the UESCA Ultrarunning coaching qualification, managed to complete the Cape Wrath Ultra and had a coach. I was the fittest and most robust I have ever been. I knew the route inside out and all the best lines across the mountains. I had some of the best days out where everything went flawlessly, although for sometimes uncertain reasons. I was still trying to them figure out, and what happened in the days leading up to those performances.

2023’s years strategy was to not make the same mistakes as two years ago; to go go steady, walk the ups, jog the flats and downs and just take it all in without being competitive. It ended up being another heat wave, I thought I was cursed. I carried out some heat acclimatization protocols in the days leading up, which in hindsight, were poorly executed. I froze my water bladders and flasks the night before and took double what I took last time, which was a stroke of genius and really helped, until the ice melted.

Getting over the Carneddau felt easy. I climbed Tryfan while the path was still in the shade. I felt cold from all the ice and I was moving well. Then the ice melted, and the sun started to cook me. I was spinning my cap on my head like a helicopter rotor, trying to keep the sun off.

Cramping on Yr Wyddfa Summit, 2023

I had a not-so-clever plan to carry the exact change for the drinks machine in Pen y Pass for a refreshing drink. When I put the money in, the machine swallowed my coins. I was gutted. Someone said I could go to the café across the road but I turned their wise suggestion down thinking I had to keep moving. I was half way along Crib Goch before I started to wish I actually stopped at the café for a cold drink. By the time I reached Yr Wyddfa, I felt alarmingly similar to two years ago. I was cramping up, as usual.

Cooling off in a stream in the Rhinogs, 2023 - Photo by Danny

It happened again, an identical situation from two years ago. I was cooked and laying in a stream to cool off. I just about made it into camp, pretty wrecked and feeling anti social. I had the classic heat exhaustion symptoms, clammy, dizzy, nauseous. Day three’s weather was worse, the air was suffocating and it was relentlessly hot and humid. From the summit of Tarren y Gesail, I had an hour to cover ten kilometres to the Machynlleth cut off. I thought now or never, as I didn’t want to enter the race for a third time.

The humidity pressing over Cadair Idris, 2023

I threw myself down the hill. I dived into puddle after puddle of stagnant muddy water to keep take the edge of the heat off and as I hit the road and I knew it was going to be close. I rushed through the market and straight past the checkpoint junction, and into the Co-op car park. Luckily I found a gap in the wall. I had been planning to hurl my body over it. As I approached the check point, people were screaming at me to go faster.

I made it with two seconds spare, and collapsed on the floor, rolled around panting and gasping for water to be poured over me. Realistically, I was done at that point, but I can be a pengaled (stubborn) sometimes. Race HQ reluctantly bent the rules after I begged them to allow me to go back to the Co-op to get something cold. I stayed slumped outside of the shop for an hour devouring ice lollies before forcing myself up and taking aim at Pumlumon Fawr. A couple hours later, I was extracted from the course and given a ride back to camp where I proceeded to throw up the twenty or so ice lollies I had from earlier. Once again, my race was over.

A close shave, Machynlleth check point, 2023 - Photo borrowed from Anthony Stevens

I continued on the hatchling and battled with my thoughts for the next day before pulling out of the race entirely. Siwan rescued me, again. We decided to cheer everyone on the final day and hand ice lollies out to friends. The rules say if you offer one thing to one competitor, then everyone else should have the same opportunity, so we cleared out two chest freezers from Aldi and Lidl. It was a joy to do this. We went to watch friends and competitors cross the finish line in Cardiff. It was fantastic atmosphere. If you ever find yourself in the same situation, just go, you won’t regret it.

Third Attempt, 2025

The start is atmospheric and full of nervous energy reverberating off the walls. I felt calm and anxious simultaneously. Calm because I was with friends in a very familiar place by now, and nervous because of the five years of dedication that had gone into it. This time felt different.

Dragons Back Race in Conwy Castle, 2025 - No Limits Photography

I stopped on Conwy mountain to watch the sunrise. Molly took the beautiful photo below. It was going to be the last bit of sun for before turbo-mizzle set in for the day.

Darren, Marc, a Frenchman and I teamed up for the first couple of hours. We chatted and took it steady up to Foel Fras. It felt more like a chilled Sunday run than a race across the spine of Wales in what is called the toughest mountain race in the world.

As we approached the tops of the Carneddau, I pulled on my waterproofs before I needed to. Just over the rise, I knew the weather was going to be fierce, and sorting kit there would have been complicated. Small decisions like that tot up over a week. Soon after, I went past a group who were struggling to put their flapping layers on in the wind.

My strategy was to chip away and do my own thing, no racing. I did this by stopping to chat with friends along the way, using those moments to eat and enjoy being there. Whenever I saw someone ahead, I paused to watch them disappear into the clag so I didn’t feel the need to chase. I love racing, but the race itself is competition enough and gaining a few minutes here and there was pointless. Being consistent mattered more.

Sunrise from Conwy Mountain - Photo by Molly

Day two was satisfying. I teamed up with Pete to navigate some of the ‘lines’ we had been scoping out over the past few months. We were going outrageously off the recommended route in places, it was within the rules and cleared with race HQ beforehand. I always think back to the first 1992 edition where the competitors were given a map at the start of each morning and told off you go. No pre-planned route, just navigation skills and reading the land. I would have loved to have been there.

Taking a bold line off the recommended route - Open Tracking

Michael and I teamed up on Day three. We finished at the same time on day one. I didn’t know him before but he turned out to be great company and I really enjoyed travelling through Wales with him. The weather was rough so we hedged our bets and decided on a lower line before reaching Cadair Idris to avoid the worst of the wind and rain on the higher ground. Neither of us had been there before so it was a judgment call which paid off. Later that day, I passed Tina who is an absolute legend and someone to aspire to. She’s my neighbour and trusted me to coach her on some of her own adventures and challenges, including the one that we were sharing in that moment.

Day four brought a scare. I had a recurring nerve-hip irritation problem that’s been a show stopper in previous races. I pulled out of GB Ultra Wales a couple of months prior to DBR 2025 because of it, and It started to flare up again. I thought it was going to be a show stopper again.

I did what I could. Doubled the gels, fluids, electrolytes, stood up tall with a posture that my physio would be proud of. That kind of worked. Then I thought my boxers were sitting on the nerve, so I took them off. Instant relief. A few hours later, I was chafing, so the boxers went back on. The nerve irritation was there but manageable. Finding a quiet spot with no runners around to strip off was tricky.

Brecon Beacons, Dragons Back Race, 2025 - No Limits Photography

Day five was the odd one out where I didn’t feel my usual self. After the event, I learned that a week of poor quality fat intake was likely to blame, affecting hormones and immune system regulation. My immune system took a massive hit after the race, it took a couple of months to fully recover.

I heard that Ed had picked up a niggle and was slowing, so I saw the opportunity to move up a position (sorry Ed!). I changed my strategy from ‘chip away’ to ‘race mode’, and it tied in nicely with being back in hilly terrain that I’m most comfortable with, over the Brecon Beacons. Racing was a mistake that I paid a price for. I set off late, then passed Ed and kept pushing and really went for it on the descents. A good friend, John, was out in the hills cheering us all on. I felt guilty because my headspace wasn’t in a good way but I was glad to see him. 

Not far from camp, I started to trip over ledges and rocks, which I thought was odd as I don’t usually catch my feet. Soon after I realised my anterior tibialis was malfunctioning and I was losing control of my foots dorsiflexion. Just before the final descent into camp, both my knees started to really hurt. I overcooked it and I shouldn’t have raced. Then Ed cruised past.

In one of the famous blue tents, thanks for the photo Ludwig

In camp, I flopped onto the floor feeling sorry for myself, then fell asleep. Ludwig gave some encouragement, words of wisdom and helped put my world to right. The next morning, I woke up feeling unsure if I’ll make it to Cardiff Castle. I figured that I should at least try, now or never. So I taped my foot and shin up; I knew how to do it from having a similar injury in previous years, and set off.

It was agony, every step hurt, and it got worse as the day progressed. I found Tom who was in a similar state, we were both swearing our way through the valleys. Tom is an amazing road runner, and day six is predominately tarmac, so I latched onto him for as long as I could, until he dropped me at the ice lolly pub from two years ago. I was in pieces, but I was going to make it. I shuffled unceremoniously through Buke Park and paused outside Cardiff Castle to pause for a moment before going through the arch. I could barely hold myself together.

Cardiff Castle, 2025

Five years after first thinking this was a clever idea, I had finally made it. Siwan had patiently been watching me put myself through hell and back, dropping what she was doing to come and rescue me whenever I had another DNF, picking me up from random roads in the middle of nowhere, all the while supporting these bonkers ideas. That same week, she casually completed the hatchling course covering 180km and climbing 8,000m. She runs around 15km a week. That's superhuman, and honestly, a little annoying.

The difference between previous attempts and in 2025 was meticulous planning. I wasn’t as fit as previous years, and was actually quite a bit heavier in comparison to 2021. It turns out those things mattered far less compared to preparing for every eventuality and understanding how the body works.

I approached challenges through an engineering lens, carrying out FMEAs (failure modes effects & analysis). The failure modes are only obvious once you’ve experienced them and by that point, I had failed in so many ways, so I had a good idea with how to mitigate against them. I learned how the digestive system worked and knew how to prevent stomach issues from happening, or how to deal with them whenever they came up. I also targeted the biggest leverage for me, which was road running and dealing with high temperatures. If someone said I should train on the road for a multi day mountain ultra, I wouldn’t have believed them. But that’s thing, there is so much advice out there that it muddies the water and confuses.

Fellrunner Course at Great Lakeland 3Day, 2025 - Steve Ashworth Media

There was a turning point after switching to FMEA’s when the new tactics went from experimenting, and into confirmation. Things started to go like clockwork. I ran a competitive Welsh 1000m fell race. A week after setting a personal best on Ras Pedol Peris, I completed a solo unsupported Paddy Buckley Round. Tried the Goat circuit and three days later, repeated it for the overall FKT in winter. Had three flawless days on the GL3D fell runner course. Things really clicked.

The Dragons Back Race in 2025 felt like a culmination of all of the learnings coming together. There were still some new lessons I took home with me. I think there always will be lessons if you keep looking for them.

I wrote this blog days before news broke out that Ourea Events ceased trading. I hope one day that this race, the stuff of myth and legend, continues.

The Iconic Dragons Back Trophy

In the time it took me to write this, Rhys had been surviving off biscuits, sleeping on the side of gravel tracks and dealing with frozen derailers high in the mountains while riding across Morocco. In the five years since the Dragon Duathlon, he has competed in the some of the toughest continuous long distance gravel races around the world.