Return to Lulworth Cove

Hands on knees, head down, lactic acid burning my quads and glutes. The hill rising above me, seemingly never ending. 30 miles in my legs. My lungs fit to burst. It was heaven. Entering the 34 miles ultra with 7000 feet in elevation was one of my best decisions, but one I nearly didn't make.

My return to the TEC Lulworth Cove Ultra Marathon wasn't planned. I finished the 2022 race insisting that I would not enter again. This was mainly due to the constant 40mph wind that had forced myself and Matt S (you'll see why I've added the S later) to walk most of the way - this being more efficient and quicker than trying to run into the headwind.

The event had been moved to an earlier date this year, taking place in February instead of March. Matt S had signed up, but I thought I had another race booked. Turned out I had my dates mixed up and was free. Another running friend Matt B had now entered. Knowing that both Matts were going and I was free that weekend proved all too tempting, and before I knew it I was off to Dorset.

Matt S drove down the day before with his wife Kelly (who was entered in the half marathon) and children. Matt B offered to give me a lift. Conveniently he also had a twin hotel room booked from a previously cancelled trip, and so we were guests of Premier Inn for the evening. A three course meal in the nearby Beefeater meant we were fuelled and rested ready for the early check in.

We arrived at 6.45. It was freezing cold, but dry, and most importantly there was no significant wind. The start line was located in a field where we were able to park, pick up our race numbers and grab a coffee and sausage sandwich before the race briefing. There were four events taking place that day with the Ultra Marathon leaving first, followed by the Marathon, the Half Marathon and the 12k.

There was just time for a pit stop to clear the piping and then we were off. We started together quite near the back of the field. None of us were there for a fast time. It was planned as a training run for Matt S and me in preparation for the Ultra Trail Snowdonia in May. Matt B was just looking to see what he could do and enjoy the hills.

Matt B in foreground, Matt S ahead, but not for long

The first few miles were easy running. Farm tracks, fields, a few gates and undulating countryside. We kept a steady pace and the conversation flowed. Eventually we had our first sight of the sea and began to descend through beautiful woodland towards the first checkpoint at six miles. The usual cheerful welcome and fine selection of food and drink was available and we set off in high spirits.

A section of pebbly beach gave some variety. The calm sea slipped softly over the smooth stones and we crunched onward. We were now approaching the bumpy section. 

A week before I had done a hill session in Greenwich Park, priding myself on the 1365 feet elevation over 10 miles. As I looked at the first monster climb ahead I realised Greenwich was practically flat in comparison. Saying that, this hill would appear pretty minor when we reached the slopes of Snowdon in May. It's all relative. Good training though.

Obviously there is no point in trying to run up these hills. A steady walk suffices. Matt S had his hiking poles, but I relied on my hands pushing down on my thighs. I find keeping a steady cadence while taking small steps works best for me, and I was soon at the top, out of breath, but in my happy place. 

Hills...

hills...

and more hills...

and hills...

and this one both ways

The views along this stretch of coastline are impressive. Looking east we could see the undulating cliffs proceeding ahead of us like a crumpled green duvet. The grey clouds skimmed over our heads in a chill north wind while the tide ebbed and flowed, its skin smooth and grey like a seal.

Matt B ran on as we had slowed a little since the checkpoint. Matt S was in the process of building up his fitness and the jump to an Ultra was a big one. No matter. We would take it steady and get the elevation and time on feet in the bank. It was all about building up our strength and resilience.

We passed Bat's Head and Scratchy Bottom - these were places, not nicknames for other competitors - and soon arrived at Durdle Door. A photographer was able to get a photo of us as we ran past the giant rock with the hole through it. Thankfully it was on a downhill so I was able to look like I was running strongly. Many Ultra events locate their photographers at the top of a hill when you look far from your Insta best.

Durdle Door

We passed St Oswald's Way beach and climbed again up to Dungy Head. We met some other runners along the way and encouraged one another as we approached Lulworth Cove itself. 

Checkpoint two was at here at the bottom of a steep set of stone steps. 11 miles gone and another opportunity to fill our bottles and take on fuel. Despite the cold we were sweating in all our layers. Carrying all the kit on our backs didn't help, but is standard for these types of events. Safety first. More reason to hydrate well and ensure energy levels are sustained over such a long distance. You learn this the hard way.

The route took us around the bay where the sea turned turquoise as it lapped the sandy beach. An even steeper set of rough steps led us down into the Jurassic Forest. I wanted to stop and search for fossils for my daughter. Signs warned against removing fossils or using metal detectors. Shame.

Another flat section gave our tired glutes (bums) some relief from the climbing and descending. We were crossing a militarized zone and more warnings were made to stick to the path in order to avoid an unplanned DNF at the hands of a hidden explosive.

Around the headland we went and were faced with a climb above Mupe Bay Beach. This is one of the toughest ascents and descents and we weren't even half way. We made to the top and back down the precipitous drop to Arish Mell, a small bay and beach at the foot of another mighty climb. Up we went again. 

It was more gentle downhill from here as we passed Worborrow Bay and Brandy Bay. We arrived at Kimmeridge Bay and the third checkpoint. Matt S was feeling tired and having to walk more often than run. His legs were feeling weak and he was beginning to consider pulling out. This was a training run so there would be no shame in stopping before the end, but I was determined to push him on as much as possible. I encouraged him to eat more and this did seem to revive him slightly.

We set off again, and I told him to push on while I stopped for a toilet break. When I came out I could see him climbing the ridge ahead. I had expected him to be much further on (it was a long and much needed stop) and when I caught up he admitted it was time for him to call it a day. His legs were cramping now and it made more sense to retrace his steps to the checkpoint for a pick up.

After saying goodbye I carried on solo. Matt B was well ahead by now. I picked up the pace and soon caught up with one of the other runners I had been chatting to earlier. We picked up right where we left off and enjoyed the next few miles together. She had been forced to speed hike due to a persistent knee pain when she ran. I struggled to keep up without running. We swapped stories, as you do on these long runs, and I was impressed to discover she was off to Base Camp Everest in April. Turns out we would see each other again in May as she was also booked in for UTS, although for the longer 100k. The miles flew by.

The hills were less demanding now, but much longer. This was a road section and passing cars caused us to keep moving over to the side of the road. I remembered from last year that the drivers were in the habit of leaving as little room as possible. We passed the church at Tyneham, and thankfully arrived unscathed at checkpoint 4. I left my new friend eating potatoes and pushed on to try and catch up with Matt B as he was my lift home and I didn't want to keep him waiting.

Over the next seven or eight miles I pushed hard. There was still plenty in the tank as I had saved energy walking some of the way to this point. I began to overtake people and was able to force myself to the limit as we returned over some of the big hills we had climbed just a few hours before. We were retracing our steps along the coast. This time the wind was behind me and the sea to my left. The sun had made an appearance and it was a little warmer.  

I ran past the Royal Armoured Corps Memorial and burned out tanks that litter the ridge before descending towards Lulworth Cove again. By now I was flying past other runners, picking up places and enjoying the chance to stretch my legs. Before long I recognised the fields where Matt S and I had watched deer grazing the year before. I knew I was close to the finish.

Erik ten-Hag crosses the line

I crossed the line in around seven and a half hours, but the time wasn't important. The run had exceeded my expectations. A stunning route, gruelling training opportunity, wonderful company and great organisation had combined to make my first event of the year a special one. Who knows, I may even come back next year for the hat-trick.

Route elevation