The Autumn Wolfrun: Unmentionable Stuff in My Hair & Why Fake Nails are an OCR MUST

So this Autumn I was to take part in The Wolf Run. I’d like to clarify that this doesn’t involve being chased by actual wolves … I’m not quite that desperate to improve my 10k PB. Yet. Or to end my days being savaged like the Mum out of Cujo. If I’m to end my days dribbling and crying, I’d to prefer it to be from copious amounts of alcohol and a really sad book, not a ravenous canine.

W.O.L.F actually stands for Woods, Obstacles, Lakes & Fields and the Wolf Run is designed to simulate some of the obstacles that you’d meet in the wild, running as a wolf. Although not all … I haven’t yet seen a wolf on a slide. Although should anyone have any handy YouTube clips …?

Registration was as slick as the Fonz’s hair. There were lots of extremely enthusiastic marshals available to help in the large tent and it was easy to pick up a waiver form and get it signed ready to collect my registration pack. Unfortunately my morning handwriting wasn't up to scratch so I did have to decipher what appeared to be particularly badly formed runes. I’m just not a morning person.

Luckily I’d not even had to drive myself as my husband had been put in the position of Chief Supporter. Which sounds very grand but basically involves standing in the (usually) cold, being berated for taking sub-par photos and being taxi. So not even a pint at the end. I probably should make him a badge or a hat or something. 

Pack picked up, number pinned on and portaloo visited and sharpie applied to my head branding me with my race number all done. I love having a bit of time before a race starts - not an awful lot worse than having to rush on race morning. As it was a warm morning I even got a bit of late-season sun basking done … and spotted one of my friends from work in LONDON who was marshalling the race. I can never get over what a small world the running one actually is. *Waves at Sophie*

Decided that pre-race relaxing just isn’t the same without needing a wee most of the way around the run and paid £2 for the privilege of some murky black water masquerading as coffee. I was quite happy with this until I spotted the sign on the stall next door offering coffee for £1 … gutted. I could have needed a wee TWICE as desperately while running as could have had TWO cups …

The Wolf Run is a sociable run, which puts a lot of emphasis on teamwork and at the start of each of the waves of their events, they run an extremely enthusiastic warmup. The comperes shout if you’re not trying hard enough and basically get everyone doing a 5 minute equivalent of HIIT. Mainly commando crawling, high knees and bear crawls which basically involved sticking your butt in the air and crawling. Like a cat getting it’s back scratched. But with more mud, grass and lycra.

I was exhausted before we started.

However, that didn’t mean I didn’t get caught up in the start line enthusiasm and was off like a shot like the rest of my fellow lunatics. Usually I’m pretty strict with my pacing. I know what distance I’m running, what pace I’m aiming for and where my heart rate should be. Wolf run pace? No idea. Whatever feels like a good idea at the time. And I’m not sure I HAVE a target heart rate for rope climbing, pond jumping or bog wading. Except for avoiding flatline I was happy to be moving forward.

I did discover an unexpected talent. Turns out I can climb ropes like a monkey. Not sure when I would be using this skill in the future now that I’ve grown out of primary school and gym classes but should I ever need to escape from something that can’t climb ropes (worms? hippos?) and there should be a rope handy … then I’m the girl who will be escaping THAT imaginary predator. 

However I was RUBBISH at the pipes. These were slick plastic pipes and I JUST fitted. There was no room to commando crawl or use my legs so I had to drag myself along with my arms and shoulders. It was hard work and I was exhausted at end. You remember that bit in Ace Ventura where he crawls out of the robot rhino’s arse? It was like that. And in case you haven’t seen the film, there’s a recommendation right there. It was how I imagine being born like … but without the drugs. And while wearing lycra.

I thoroughly enjoyed the submerged tunnels and discovered I had a rather unfair advantage. I like having nice nails but due to all the sports I do they need to be practically bulletproof and not chip so I go to a nail place where they make them as Wolverine-like as possible. My secret advantage was being able to dig my nails into the mud and muck at the bottom of the tunnel and drag myself along like a zombie but with better nails. It was surprisingly speedy and I overtook the lad I’d been leapfrogging with on the last few obstacles. He soon caught up again but I noticed that HIS nails weren’t wolverine-esque so should there be another muddy tunnel, bets were on me.

Ended up having a chatter and it turned out that only a few years previously, my new running buddy, Anton been a very overweight man. You’d never guess with the way he was running now but he’d turned his fitness around and was now smashing out obstacle runs like a pro! Inspiring stuff!

I’m obviously the perfect height … *cough*. Ok short. I’m short. And I did find that being vertically-challenged makes some of the obstacles tougher. There are some felled trees and while the lads with long legs and big strides made short work of these, it was almost faster for me to crawl underneath them than to go over them. However, I would have the last laugh as should I trip I wouldn’t have far to fall.

I do find the bog and pond wades tough work. While I enjoy doing these, I lose a lot of time in the field. On the lad, the water was around their knees and they could raise their feet out of the water. For me - the water was around my thighs. However, being lighter on the muddy bog sections if I could get enough speed up beforehand I could pretty much run across the top if the mud was solid enough. Not quite Legolas on the snow, more like Bog Monster in the Marsh but it gave me an advantage. 

There are quite a lot of jumps in the Wolf Run. Lots of fun and a bit of gamble especially as you never quite knew how deep they were! On one of the sections, I should have spotted the mischievous look on the marshal’s face before I leapt in … to 6 inches of muddy water. And promptly stuck fast in the thick mud at the bottom. I was loathe to leave my new and rather striking ASICS Gel Fuji Trabuco 5s in the bog so I struggled and wallowed until I could finally pull my feet free and drag myself out of the bog. 

I also learned a new trick. Seeing a few people early on in the race commando rolling under the cargo nets, I gave it a try. It was surprisingly fast and effective! Much quicker than clambering over or crawling under them however I wasn’t sure that the vertigo immediately afterwards took away from the benefit as I probably wasted time bouncing off the trees that I could have spent crawling and running. 

While the Wolf Run is totally not a race the marshals were telling me I was the 2nd placed lady in the event. At this stage of unfitness I was TOTALLY keeping that!

There’s an open water swim in the event which I was looking forward to after all the triathlon training of the last couple of years, however despite being confident in the water, I had completely underestimated quite how tough swimming in trainers and full running kit is. I did thoroughly enjoy it however and even did a bit of backstroke to get the benefit of the sunshine! Plus it washed off some of the more fragrant mud which appeared to have been kindly donated by some local cows with dreadfully runny tummies. 

While I enjoy ALL of the obstacles at the Wolf Run (even the giving-birth-simulating-pipes), the absolute highlight has to be the MASSIVE WATER SLIDE! I don’t know how long it is as I spend my whole time on it shouting “WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!”  but it does seem to reach from the top of a very long field all the way down to the bottom. At least 30 seconds of “WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!” anyway. It puts any park waterslide to shame. Plus as I was in the first wave there was no queue to get on it so I could leap up the steps and taking a run up to get a better launch at it! I was airborne for about the first 10 metres. TOTALLY worth it!

I’m not quite sure why I look quite so serious on it. Maybe I’m concentrating on “WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!” rather than weeeeeeeeeeeee after those cups of coffee. Or more likely calculating where my next snack is coming from.

After this section, it seemed only a very short run to the end. There were plenty more obstacles than I’ve mentioned (did I mention the Monkey Bars? The Nutcracker? The massive A-Frame Cargo nets?) but who am I to spoil the surprise for you? It would be like telling you the end of a good book, right?

Running up though the last half a mile, you can hear the crowd and the announcer and it adds an additional adrenaline boost. Your legs are tired, you’re covered in rather fragrant mud and there’s something unmentionable in your hair … but there’s something very special about The Wolf Run. You climb the last A-Frame, swinging your legs over the 25-odd foot high top bar and slide down the other side and run as fast as you can towards the inflatable finish arch you can just see the top of over the last hillock. You climb the last hillock … and there in front of you is a massive bog full of filthy mud.

So you do a star jump. As is perfectly normal at the end of a race, right?

Thanks Wolf Run. Loved it. I’ll be back.


The Wolf Run very kindly offered me a free spot if I wrote a blog about it. As usually I wrote exactly what I thought of it (lots of mud, lots of obstacles and cider!!) and I took no payment for this post.

The Wolf Run Part 1 - A (Long-Suffering) Supporters Tale

(This is written entirely by my husband ...)

It had just gone 8am and we were in the car ready to go. In MY car as Sarah's car battery had given up the ghost the weekend before.

Sarah started at 10am and we had a whole 25 minutes drive ahead of us. In my opinion, leaving 2 hours for this journey didn't make a whole lot of sense but then again opinions are like assholes; everyone has one.

We reached the site about at about 8.30am (before registration had even opened) and Sarah went straight to the portaloos. It had been a good while since Sarah's last running event and so she had clearly been missing the aroma of a temporary plastic toilet. Obviously one trip was not enough for her to get her fix as she visited 2 more times within the next hour. Next she would be jumping behind hedges, toilet paper in hand, just for nostalgic reasons.  

After registration Sarah took to preparing herself and her kit for the challenge ahead. This included using 6 safety pins to secure her number to her top and the acquirement of some out of date Cliff Bars (linked to toilet trips?).

Free food!!!

Now ready and armed with coffee we ensured enough 'before' pictures were taken. I am not known for my ability to take a good photo so have learned that I need to be taking at least ten shots in each pose to ensure a usable one is created.

One of the benefits of being onsite early is having the opportunity to observe the other runners. I love looking at competitors at events like the Wolf Run as there is such a wonderful diversity of people. From those that are typical runners (skinny, hungry looking, club vests ...), to the gym rats who have entered because they want to try something that's described as an 'extreme' event, through to the people who are nervously toeing the line for their first event and already dressed in the event's t-shirt. These kind of events are not judged on speed but on ability to complete and capacity to enjoy. 

One lady in particular stood out. Clearly in the 'runner' category and taking the event very seriously (stretching and stuff) with a very focused look on her face (or possibly needing a poo but not interested in visiting the portaloo). I though that if she isn't good she's going to look silly.

Eventually Sarah was called up for the official warm up and the start was at T minus 10 minutes. After a few minutes of shouting from the 'motivators' and some running and crawling around in circles: actually this was a more useful warm up than I make it sound but it was still making me dizzy. 

And then they were off.

Obviously I couldn't watch Sarah around the course but it was easy to imagine how she was running. Fake nonchalance with a big smile on her face. That is to say, pretending she wasn't competitive while picking off runner after runner and loving every minute of it. I sometimes wonder how far Sarah's drive would take her. Any given situation could turn into a example of a popular adult card game – 'Sarah against Humanity': “While running an obstacle course Sarah would...”.

While waiting for her I spied a couple of friends who were aiming for the title of Alpha Wolf – Marina and Aurian. As we caught up and talked about next years plans around running events Marina pulled a 'Sarah' by visiting the portaloos twice; she had obviously missed the aroma too.

Their starting wave was about 90 minutes after Sarah's kick off time and had suggested meeting up with Sarah after she had finished but before they started. Sarah had pooh-poohed this idea stating she would take closer to 2 hours to finish the course. Having completed the run a couple of years earlier in just over 1 hour she was fooling no one and we were keeping an eye out from the 60 minute mark. It was not long after his that the first lady came through to tackle the last obstacle and finish. It was the focused, fully prepared, possibly constipated lady we had seen before the the race had started, she definitely wasn't looking silly!

It was only about 5 minutes later than Sarah came into sight on the last straight. 2nd woman! As I said competitiveness masked by a pretence of blasé. She had picked up a running buddy and they had clearly been pushing each other in that friendly 'you're not going to beat me' kind of way. Sarah has always been fantastic at this – chatting to everyone and picking up buddies during every race she enters. (Sometimes she doesn't even drop them with a mile to go in pursuit of a good time or place!).

As the two of them climbed over the last obstacle it looked like that Sarah wasn't keen to fly off and beat her companion ... while at the same time not wanting to be beaten by a last minute sprint by her buddy. 

She cleverly overcame this by taking her time composing herself for the final leap into the watery mud that signified the end of the course ensuring the best race picture possible, not taking the inconsiderate 'win', while also maintaining her 'I could have beaten you if I wanted to' position. 

Having finished she made sure the finish line marshall received a muddy hug. Then having shown off the mud she was wearing to me, she made sure I also received a sopping wet hug.  


A pint of cider for her (I was taxi driver today!) and a few quick hugs for Aurian and Marina before they set off rounded off her event. And judging by her grin and the amount of mud she was wearing it had been a good one!

Fed by Broom & Whipped Cream Thief: Winter Wolf Race Report

We park in a field. It’s cold. 

Jo turns to me accusingly. “No one else is wearing vests. Look that man’s got a woolly hat on. And gloves. We’re going to freeze.” What can I say? Vests had seemed a good idea at the time. A time before I’d remembered it was November. And cold. I hadn’t even brought a bin bag to wear at the start line. “Sorry.”

I looked around.  No one else is wearing vests. Except for that very hairy man. And he looks like he’s wearing it over a brown curly jumper.

There were a lot of people wearing fairy outfits though. It seemed to be almost a Wolf Run theme. Going to get covered in mud and crap? Swim some streams? Why not do it in a fairy outfit! You think you’ll look stupid doing it in normal gear? Well, why not look EXTRA stupid?! A tutu seem to be the domain of super-fast chaps and middle-aged woman. I guess that’s when I know it’s crisis point for me. An urge to wear a tutu, Sarah? You’re either gender-confused or about to hit middle age. 

Registration was simple. A signed disclaimer form was exchanged for an envelope with our names, our bib number and a coloured wristband which we assumed denoted our start time. Nice and simple. As an added touch we got our numbers written on our foreheads with a magic marker. We were hoping the marker would be magic enough to withstand bogs, mud and open water swimming, but still wash off in the shower. 

The warm up was run by a military fitness chap and involved getting shouted at, lying on the ground to do exercises and jumping around giving each other high 5s. I’m always a bit suspicious of people who shout at us to do things but don’t do them themselves. I bet I’d be good standing around shouting at people while wearing a nice thick jacket as well. Rather than in a tiny vest. Bloody hell it’s cold. 

The horn blew and the very first obstacle was immediate. A splashy jump-into-and-wade across a lake. Cold water, but at least I wasn’t wearing heavy layers which would weigh me down. Off and out the other side and onto a bit of nice muddy trail running, tree-trunk-jumping and dodging through the woods. This is the bit of these challenges I enjoy the most; running on an interesting path knowing there are people to chase down ahead. Jo and I were first women in our wave but we knew the next wave was only 10 minutes ahead. We just had to make sure we stayed in front of anyone else wearing pink wristbands. Competitive? Us? Of course not. (Cough) We just want to make sure it’s safe for everyone else. By um ... checking it out first. 

A decision. A choice of two paths through some thick bushes. I took the right, Jo took the left and we converged at the start of a windy, muddy fun-to-run trail. This is trail running at its best. Fast, fun and muddy. The path went over a series of high hills and deep ditches. No flat parts and had to keep the momentum going to get up the other side. It was strength sapping. But fun.

Notable points of the challenge:

Taking Up Permanent Residence in the Bog. 
I got myself stuck in the bog. Properly stuck. In mud about waist height. A nice chap tried to help me out but had to give up as I was securely embedded in thick black muck. I had a moment where I thought I’d have to stay there, surviving by being passed food and drink on the end of a broom lowered out over the mud. Ended up pulling self out using handy tree. Suspect may have had to have help getting out without tree. Such as tractor, length of rope and extreme embarrassment.  

Really smelly bogs. 
I don’t know whether several runners had soiled themselves in fear of never extricating themselves from the mud or whether the bogs were made with the help of manure but they stank. As a result, I stank. But on the plus side if I took a wrong turn on the course the marshals – supposing their sense of smell hadn’t already been completely destroyed – should be able to sniff me out and rescue me. Rescue possibly after a hose down. 

Am a Foamy Sliding Machine!
A massive slide down the side of the hillside made out of polythene sheets with water and washing-up liquid. I managed to get a good speed up and took 2 people down with me. Luckily they’ll never be able to identify me as the marshals got overenthusiastic with the washing up liquid and I look as though I’ve been hit in the face with the most unfunny custard clown pie ever. 

Trail Running Vs Obstacles.
Overtaking people on the trail running bits and GETTING overtaken on the muddy bits. It was obvious where my strengths and weaknesses were. Strengths: Running in mud and on trails – yes please! Weaknesses: pulling self out of bogs, climbing up cargo nets, swimming in lakes. Basically ... the obstacles.

Pyramid Cargo Net ... of DEATH
The pyramid cargo net is my nemesis. I just don’t like climbing to a height on what is basically plaited hair, swinging my leg over the top and trusting my life to the mud encrusted, slimy strands at the top and then climbing back down the other side with the possibility of being hit by a hurtling body as another climber misjudges their grip. The ropes at school in PE? No problem. Abseiling? No problem. Cargo net? No thanks. Although there is apparently a trick to it. Jo showed me quickest way to climb cargo nets: keep one of the vertical rope parts in front of you and climb like a rope at school at PE. Doing it this way means it’ll stay taut and not move around. Still didn’t solve the ‘hurtling body’ body dilemma. 

Have Discovered Amazing New Swimming Style
The Winter Wolf had a lot of water obstacles and included were several wades up a stream, swim/wades across lakes and a ditch swim. For the taller runners this wasn’t a problem, waist-high water – no problem. For someone of my shorter stature this was nipple-height freezing cold water and was as fast to swim as to attempt to wade. I tried several different techniques with varying success. Front crawl involved putting face into brown murky water which had the muck coming off the several hundred runners in front of us in; spit, mud and urine. Backstroke was slow and had the big disadvantage of not being able to see where I was going. Wading was just splashy and slow. I ended up using a less-than-graceful stroke I like to call the Breast Paddle. Rather than an S&M device it sounds like, it was a cross between Breast Stroke and Doggy Paddle.

We had to cross the first obstacle again – a splashy-wade-run through a lake to get to the finish and we posed for our pictures by the poster and made the obligatory ’grin and ‘arms raised’ pose as is demanded at the end of races. Our beautiful smiles and triumphant poses which are somehow transformed by the sneaky photographers into ‘gurn and zombie poses’. 

We collected a goodie bag containing Clif Bar (which was very welcome – like a chocolate hug!), technical t-shirt and water and space blanket.  It was at this point Jo realised that the wristbands showed T-shirt size NOT wave time. That made sense. Despite running like crazy ladies we had been wondering how so many people in our wave got such a good head start on us ...

We stood there dripping in front of the Wolf Run sign and looked at the amounts of mud we had collected. Jo turned to me. “I think we were right to wear vests.” We looked around and saw the groups of spectators wearing thick winter coats, scarves and woolly hats. “Maybe it’s time to put something dry on now though.”

We stopped only to collect a thick hot chocolate with whipped cream AND a flake in. The proper way to enjoy hot chocolate. I paid the poor chocolate van man with quite possibly the soggiest tenner ever which I held ever so gently in case it disintegrated before I palmed it off on him. The beautiful hot chocolate moment was only spoiled by a sudden gust of wind decorating a nearby bloke with my whipped cream. Cream thief. He was also covered in mud so couldn’t even attempt to siphon it off with a straw in an attempt to retrieve it. At least he didn’t get my flake. 

It was less than a 10 minute walk to the car, but we were shivering and covered in mud, manure and straw although a significant proportion of this had been washed off by our last splashy wade through the lake. 

We had been organised enough to remember a towel each and a change of clothes thankfully as it was very, very cold and we needed to get changed into warm, dry clothes as soon as possible. Not having the room in the car, I stood outside and whipped off my vest and tied my silver space blanket around my waist like a girlie space man. 

I got my damp gear off by degrees although the gusty wind threatened to lift the space blanket and flash my arse. It wouldn’t have been a good sight with the mud and straw - the sort of thing only the strange, strange people turned on by Worzel Gummidge would have found attractive. I pulled a top on and tried to get my jeans on. Skinny jeans are NOT the best idea when hands are cold and legs are damp. I got the jeans halfway up my legs and they stuck fast. Great. I was going to have to get in the car, apologise profusely to Jo and explain that she was going to have to drive me home while I was wearing a space blanket skirt, a pair of jeans ‘penguin style’ and a pair of damp knickers with straw and mud stuck around. 

Worzel Gummidge Picture Source

Crap. How was I going to explain that? Tugged harder on jeans and my frozen fingers responded and I finally got my jeans over my arse. Phew. New t-shirt on and a warm top over it and I was starting to feel less Mud Monster and more Slightly Grubby Runner. 

Top run! Although I did take a few things away from it:  

Learning points: 

• Don’t wear skinny jeans to change into. Unless you want to scare friends or flash arse at strangers.
• Practise swimming in full running kit. After next cross country run should attempt to hurl self into nearest body of water. 
• Get yourself Wolf Run Slide-ready by inhaling washing up bubbles while cleaning plates in sink.
• Don’t drink hot chocolate when it’s windy. Unless you’re prepared to lick muddy strangers.

Wolf Run ... A Story in Pictures ...

Once upon a time, there was a mud run ... 

 

... And a pit full of mud. And my sister. Who was determined that once, just once she was going to beat me in a race. So she jumped into a pit of mud. And splashed ....

(My sister is the blonde one, I am the one with dark hair getting splashed. Note to self ... keep mouth shut in mud pits ....)

 And splashed some more ...

And some more ...

Finally I escaped from her and climbed out of the mud pit. The photographer spotting that my mouth was actually full of mud decided to snap a picture ...

Then there was a slide, made of polythene sheets and filled with water, washing up liquid ...

... And mud ...

At the end of the run was a final obstacle. A muddy slope and a pit full of muddy water. As I am a sensible runner, I decided to enter this pit carefully and gently ...

Well kind of.

... I got a mouth full of muddy water. Ruined my running clothes. Totalled my trainers. But had an AMAZING day ...

... And will be back for more next year. 

THE END