Why?

It's a good question. Why? 

Why, in my mid 50s, have I decided to do something as silly, foolish, impossible, difficult, hard, pointless (pick your own adjective) as running over 200 miles through the length of Wales over all the largest mountain ranges? It's a question that a few people have asked me, and I haven't really had a good answer. So while out running today I had a good think about how I came to be here with this bizarre plan laid out before me....



In some ways it is not as foolish or surprising as it might seem at first sight.  I run enough to be fit. Years of walking in the hills has taught me that I can manage the navigation and survival. I enjoy the solitude and the wildlife of hills and mountains. Running mountain marathons with my brother has shown me that I can carry a pack with the gear I need, and still run! I already have most of the kit. Lightweight microadventures (see below) have honed my understanding of what to carry and what I don't need, what food is good to take, and what to wear. I love Wales and the Welsh hills and mountains.

But the distance, intensity and duration are still a big step up for me. So why am I attempting it?


There have been a few influences that went into the melting pot.

The Wales Coast Path opened in 2012, and my immediate thought was "I'd love to run the length of that." with the idea of doing it in weekend long chunks. When I looked into it in more detail I found it was 870 miles long, and that it would take me years to manage it in bite sized runs.  But the seed of an idea of a long run in Wales somehow settled into my mind and started putting down roots.

When I look deep into myself I know I'd be lying if I claimed there wasn't some element of showing off, an ego boosting adventure to show the world I can do something amazing even though I am getting old(er). But that was more of a realisation after the plan had formed rather than a conscious driver.

Three guys from work are cycling from Lands End to John o'Groats. If they can do something silly like that, so can I!

My brother in law took off on his bike last summer from Shropshire, aiming for Spain. He got there, and just kept going, through Portugal, over to Africa, back to Italy, up to Croatia, down the Adriatic to Greece, Turkey, Bulgaria (where we flew out to see him for a few days) and then home again (in the increasingly cold weather), across central Europe to arrive in The Netherlands in time for Christmas and home in the New Year.  I'm no cyclist, but that struck me as a brilliant thing to have done, and I was (am) very jealous!


And then there is Alastair Humphreys, who definitely has to take some of the blame! His promotion of the microadventure reminded me that the extraordinary is in easy reach, without mounting a huge expedition, and that anyone can do brilliant stuff without having to rely on others, or on lots of money. (His inspiring Adventure 1000 campaign continues that theme.)

But he did more than that ....

In a video I saw on YouTube ("The importance of jumping in rivers") Al said a couple things that struck me.

One of them was the tongue in cheek "You don't want get  old... you don't want to be 32 and look back on your life and say 'Man! I wish I'd done X, Y or Z'" Well here am I, pushing twice that age, so it was about time I got something started.

More striking though were some comments he made about not being frightened of starting things, along the lines of "You don't know what you can do until you find something you can't."  Alastair didn't actually use those words, but that was how his thoughts crystalised in my mind, and that turned the idea of a big challenge around in my head.  All of a sudden I wasn't looking to achieve a specific thing.  Instead I was looking for something that would show me where my limits were. Something I'd enjoy, that could show me what I could do, but offer me something that I couldn't. Looked at from that point of view I couldn't fail!  And as long as I knew that I had put everything into it, that I hadn't let myself down by not training or not preparing, or by wimping out early, then I'd have achieved a real special thing.


All this drifted around in my head as I was running in the woods over the winter, until, unbidden, a plan started to coalesce out of the swirling ideas, and somehow presented itself to me, almost fully formed. (It had to be tinkered with a bit. The original plan was from the southernmost tip of Wales to the northernmost.  But the northernmost point of the Welsh mainland is Point of Ayr (Y Parlwr Du) in Flintshire, close to the English border, and I wanted to include Snowdonia. I pondered going across Anglesey, but settled in the end for Great Orme, which is a suitably dramatic end point, and gave me the chance to run the length of the Carneddau.)

I kept the plan mainly to myself for a while, asking just a few Friends what they thought. They were (of course) encouraging, but I'm not sure that outdoor type friends are the best people to ask for advice on such things.  They will invariably say that you should try whatever you suggest. ("Shall I try climbing Everest blindfold carrying a small car?" "Yeah. Go for it! It'll be brilliant!").

Eventually, after a bit more training, I was confident enough to share my plan, and that is how I ended up here.  A combination of years or walking and running, a love of the mountains and of Wales and, especially, inspiration and insights from Alastair Humpreys.

Is that a good enough answer to the question "Why?"?

Maybe. Maybe not.

But it is as close as I can get!

Brocken Spectre on Crib Goch
(not really relevant but pretty and somehow optimistic and uplifting!)