Pegasus Ultra - VOGUM 2025

Solo Mission on the Welsh Coast – Pegasus Vogum 40 (June 2025)

Hey friends—it’s Frank here. Ultra runner, solo adventurer, and big fan of getting muddy in beautiful places.

This is a recap of my latest outing: the Pegasus Vogum 40, a 40-mile trail ultra along the stunning Vale of Glamorgan coast in South Wales. It’s the kind of race that reminds you why we do this—pure trail magic, all the highs and lows, and just enough chaos to keep things interesting.

Going Solo

This one was a bit different for me. No crew, no running pals, no familiar faces. Just me and a backpack heading across the Severn for a solo mission. That in itself was a good challenge—no safety net, no one to pep-talk me through the dark bits. I was curious to see how I’d handle it.

My day started at 4:30am—classic ultra start time. I parked at the finish line and caught the race coach to the start. The bus was buzzing with chatter: race stories, weather grumbles, kit comparisons. I just sat back, listened, and soaked it all in. I'm known for being quite chatty at home events, especially with the Camino Ultra crew—but here, with strangers and rain lashing the windows, it felt good to go quiet and tune in to the nerves and excitement around me.

Beach Starts and Coastal Dreams

The start line was something special: a beach! My first time beginning a race on wet sand, with the tide still out and grey skies looming above. And just to make it more memorable, the heavens opened minutes before the start. A classic Welsh welcome.

But the briefing was brilliant. One thing that really stood out—no aid station cut-offs. That’s huge. It’s so refreshing to see a race prioritising inclusivity. Props to Pegasus for getting that right.

Gun goes off and we’re away. 250 runners heading into the wind and drizzle, legs fresh and spirits high. I wasn’t chasing a time or place, but I fancied holding top 10 if I could. So I found a steady rhythm and tried not to let the front runners drift too far ahead.

Trails, Tarmac and Slippery Surprises

The early miles were a mix: wet beach, wooded trail, open country lanes. The rain eased off, the tarmac rolled well, and I found myself picking up places. I was feeling strong—no watch-checking, just running on feel.

Then came the technical bits: steep steps, greasy mud, rooty descents. Exactly the kind of trail I love. A long hill took us up to the first aid station, where I spotted a runner in a blue shirt just heading out. He looked solid, so I made a mental note to hang onto him.

Quick pit stop: banana, water top-up, electrolytes in. Then off again—onto cliffside trails with wild ocean views. I was running solo but feeling good. That’s the sweet spot in an ultra: when your legs are working, your mind’s clear, and you’re moving through the landscape like you belong there.

Stepping Stones and Sticky Fields

Then came a proper surprise—a stepping-stone river crossing. Haven’t done one of those in years. My shoes were brand new, untested on slick stone. First step: slip! But somehow I bounced across like a cat. “Did you see that? Cat-like skills!” I shouted to some bemused spectators.

I kept chasing Blue Shirt and caught him just as we hit a horrible muddy field. Tractor tracks had turned it into a shoe-sucking swamp. Then more woodland, more singletrack, more of that good grind.

Eventually, I caught up with him and another runner—tall guy in all-black kit. The three of us worked together nicely through a long stretch of undulating terrain. Then my stomach started rumbling. Ultra runners, you know the deal. It was almost bush-time, but just as I was slowing to make a pit stop, Black Kit Guy caught up and said, “Come on, keep moving.”

So I did.

Running with Matt

Turns out his name was Matt, and we ended up running a big chunk together. He was struggling with his knees, and I was fading a bit mentally. Perfect timing to link up.

We hit a brutal, bleak section—concrete sea wall on one side, industrial wasteland on the other, rain horizontal. It was grim. But having someone next to me made it bearable. We even started overtaking again.

Finally, the next aid station appeared, like an oasis. Drop bags, snacks, big smiles. I skipped the sock change and grabbed banana, watermelon, chocolate fudge cake (yes), and a gel. Instant boost. Legs came back to life.

Matt encouraged me to go ahead, so I pushed on toward Barry Island, which you can see for miles. It never seems to get any closer. I caught a few more runners and felt that competitive spark again.

Final Stretch and a Surprise Checkpoint

After a bit of a navigation detour through Barry (followed by dragging a few lost runners back on course), we hit checkpoint four—one I’d completely forgotten existed. Major morale lift.

I followed another strong runner out, hoping he knew the way. We hit a gnarly pebble beach with ankle-breaking rocks, then a sharp turn into the woods. I was hanging on, but the finish was near.

A young woman came flying past me, proper impressive. I managed to keep moving, found the final beach section, and spotted the flags on the final hill. That last climb was full of supporters cheering. I wasn’t walking that. I pushed all the way up, grinning like a fool. And then it was done.

Grateful, Humbled, Happy

This race reminded me why I love this sport. You don’t need fanfare, big names, or perfect conditions. Sometimes the most meaningful miles are the quiet ones—the solo efforts, the internal battles, the strangers who become teammates.

Massive thanks to the Pegasus crew for putting on an inclusive, well-organised, and beautifully brutal event. And big up to everyone who toed the line—whatever your reason, pace, or story. You showed up. That’s what counts.

Until the next one.

Thank You

I’d like to take a moment to thank some of the people and brands who support, inspire, and believe in me. I don't take that for granted.

Camino Ultra – for building community, sharing knowledge, and leading with love.
Precision Fuel & Hydration – for helping me stay strong, fuelled, and dialled-in mile after mile.
Hylo Athletic and Ciele Athletics – for making gear that moves with intention and integrity.
Klättermusen – for technical kit that can handle whatever the trail throws at me.
Norda – for shoes that respect the earth and push the boundaries of performance.
And of course, Pegasus Ultra Running – for putting on races with heart, soul, and a welcome for everyone.

These are more than just logos on a kit bag—they’re people, ideas, and communities that share a deeper belief:

Love wins. Always.
Even when it’s muddy. Even when it’s raining sideways. Even when you're 30 miles deep and doubting everything.

Love wins. And that’s why we run.

See you out there.

—Frank