Storm Ingrid vs Arc of Attrition Caminos

Wow Arc of Attrition has always been a firm favourite of the Camino family but this year was as spicy as we can remember.

On our team WhatsApp group all the chatter was about how the temperature looked mild but felt freezing.

With Storm Ingrid in full effect Camino had athletes in all four distances - 12 - 25 - 50 to 100 miles....but would any of them survive?

Julia and Katie getting ready for the stormy 50

With places for the Winter Spine and Arc getting more and more competitive but the DNF rates for these events still very high - over 50% DNFed 100 mile of Arc this year - we are grateful to all the Camino athletes (whether finishers or not they are all heroes) for sharing their adventures.

If you are considering a winter event 2027 and want to start your journey now then contact Camino Coaching practice for a 1-2-1 with our experts.

Camino Legend Benji focused! at the start line of the Arc 100

BENJI BYRNE ARC 100 MILER:

Notwithstanding the pain the jacksie it is to get to Cornwall, this is an event.

Toeing the line in the gales and rain of Coverack (where?!), trepidatious and a little daunted at what lay ahead, I made an on-the-spot decision to run as steadily as I could throughout which meant no bombing off from the gun, (relatively speaking), and trying to hold on for the last 60 miles. May seem obvious to most but I tend to get caught up in the nervous energy and take off only to suffer later (winter downs 55 miler back in December is the perfect example of this: 4^th place at 35 miles, staggering over the line, whimpering in 15^th by the end, hating every step).

I hadn’t done any recce’s (too bloody far away) and had only looked at the route a little so I wasn’t really prepared for just how gnarly this course is and along with storm Ingrid hammering us from the south west, it made for a tough test of will and belief. Despite the wild weather, I didn’t feel cold at all which meant I was sweating in my single merino layer and Gore-Tex jacket and thus getting wet from the inside too. Lovely stuff.

I knew this route had the constant ups and downs totaling 5000m of ups. A different prospect than some mountain races where you climb over a thousand metres before descents etc.

The first 25 miles or so were difficult in the conditions and I definitely took time to adjust to the terrain as nothing like it round the suburban streets of east London where I live. It had already gone dark as the start of the race was 1pm which is a bit different to regular events but I didn’t feel it impacted me much as I would be running through the night regardless.

At this point the aid station at Porthleven was a necessity and a real tonic as the rain was torrential and I needed sustenance. Inside the tent was warm enough but very busy with competitors and crew for those lucky enough to have pals or family members who can give up time to support folks. I’ve never had crew as I haven’t really done events that really require them; plus I have nae mates . After 15 mins of food and a change of base layer, I headed off into the dark with next stop Penzance at 40 odd miles. I was still telling myself to keep it steady and not push too hard (which wasn’t that difficult with the paths now sludgy mud and deep puddles). I lost most places during this section and slipped down to about 140^th but tried to keep the right frame of mind.

The run into Penzance is the only decent flat section of the course at sea level for about four miles. Windy AF here and waves crashing 100ft over the promenade. Penzance had the best aid station – an actual stone building – with good hot and hearty food. Stuffed my face, change out that last merino base layer into a single later fleece and headed off again. Lands End is now on my mind as at the 55 mile mark but the flat section is over and the rocky paths and boulder fields begin; horrendous and punishing on every bit of the legs. I tactically skipped the aid station 5 miles short of Lands End as a little bit of competitive edge kicked in and my focus was on the key milestone of Lands End and past half way. This was also a great aid station with fantastic volunteers and food options. A full change of clothing here as the drop bag was waiting for me so was able to get shot of all the wet gear and change the lot – what a treat. Probably stayed a little long but was charging the watch and enjoying the dryness of the room a little too much… plus, overhead some character cracking into a can of beer.. gon yersel pal!

Anyway, the next 26 miles is well known as the toughest part of the Arc.. unbeknownst to me, the most gnarly, rugged and rocky path and run in the dark for the first 90 minutes or so. Through the boulder fields and frequent scrambling I tried to just to keep going but evidently my pace was way down (reviewing the Strava you can make out the section owing to the pace slow down before I was able to pick it up again). Constantly looking a few feet in from of me to choose each foot placement took its toll on my neck and back (still stiff and sore as I write this five dates later).. even on the actual path sections you had to be really aware of jagged rocks and hidden boulders under the mud and puddles… all very treacherous.

BUT, BUT, BUT.. the daylight came and it does give your whole body a lift, especially the mind and then finally St Ives.. what a sight.. civilization and a concrete path.. cheap thrills all round. Up until this year the aid station was in St Ives, however it had been moved two miles further on the route in Lelant. Didn’t really mean anything to me but by that point, although I managed to pick up a bit of pace and rhythm I was looking for the stop round every corner. I caught up with another competitor and we shared the same exasperation that the stop didn’t seem to ever come, but of course it did and how grateful we were. Change of clothes and freshly made, thin crust sourdough pepperoni pizza.. lovely stuff.. Decided to ditch both top and bottom waterproofs and elect for the leggings and a base layer and fleece combo; the thinking being that I didn’t mind getting a bit wet if rained but it allowed my top half to breath properly for the first time. After ten minutes too long (again), off we go with the smell of Porthtowan in the air. This next few miles are pretty flat , weaving through sand dunes which sounded horrible in prospect but the ground was firm and it weaved in and out for quite a stretch. I should have had the camera out here as the beach at Hayle and beyond was gorgeous in the midday light, beautiful golden sand with the sun poking through for the first time shimmering on the water.. But photos schmotos.. it was in a race.

Over the previous few sections and continuing now, I had managed to consistently pick people off and keep the steady pace going (steady pace now was about 14-15 minute miles). A quick bottle refill at Godrevy aid station then straight back on route where the undulations ticked up again and back to the familiar upsy-downsy’s but with less than a half marathon to go, getting in before dark was just about possible assuming no killer hills or falls or worse.

I didn’t realise there was an aid station at Portreath, about five miles from the finish so skipped it and headed on. Another runner passed me here, looking fresh AF, saying something about just getting his energy back after vomming all night, and powered on taking minutes out me.. The hill out of Portreath is brutal despite being on tarmac it does seem to let up or end but eventually flattens off and you are turning back onto the muddy coastal path. Two more down and up sections with massive high steps slowed my pace and took the last of my mental fortitude clean out me.. twilight was hitting as I ran into Porthtowan but light enough and guided through the village by cheery volunteers, up onto the final dirt path where I began to hear the tannoy system and blaring music before trotting over the brow into the straight and under the finish line (with a small quivering lip). The usual relief, emotion and fatigue all hitting me at once as I’m guided through to collect belt buckles, bags and all the gubbins before finally slumping in a chair in the marquee.

Of course throughout, the Camino bunch were on the WhatsApp chitty chat and tremendous to hear encouraging voices, hoping I can now return the favour as the 50 was still in full flight and the other races yet to start. Interestingly, as happens with WhatsApp chats, it seemed to deviate into big Daz’s capacity for pints of Tribute ale - seven apparently – where, quite frankly, I think the big man should try harder…. But of course, the bantz was completely drowned out by all the sound, sage advice and warm encouragement as always; anyone can follow a training plan but the Camino approach is the secret sauce. Top peeps x

ANNA BROWN - ARC 50 MILE

Returning to the Arc definitely wasn’t something I’d planned for this year, but it turned out fate had other ideas! During the 100 in 2024, I’d met a guy named Wez and we had had a great time, running about 100km together which gave us a lot of time to talk! He had told me about his race on the Isles of Scilly called the ‘Scilly 60’ which is a 60km run around the coasts of the 5 inhabited islands there, with a boat transfer in between. The quirk that grabbed me was that you had to maintain a constant pace throughout and if you missed the boat, you were automatically DNFed - brilliant. After we finished the Arc I was sold on the Scilly 60 and went out that June to take part. It completely lived up to expectations and was such an amazing vibe I went back again last year. It was on this visit at the Trails in Motion film festival organised by Jay Grady that I bought a raffle ticket. The prize for the raffle was a place in the Arc… Who was it that got to pull the winner out of the hat? Wez. Who did he pull out? Obviously me. See? Fate. A friendship that started at the Arc led me right back to the Arc and the choice was taken away from me!! I had the opportunity to run the 100 or the 50 but having run the 100 I decided to go for the 50. Not only was it a slightly less daunting task, it would also give me the opportunity to run the ‘dark bits’ of the 100 in the light. We had had so much fun running the 100 together with our crews hanging out, it would never have lived up to that again!

I have never run a UTMB event and to be honest, they really don’t appeal to me in general. I would however like the opportunity to run CCC at some point, so since I needed to earn ‘running stones’ at one of their events in order to enter that, running the new UTMB version of the Arc had an added bonus. All I had to do was finish.

Having run the route under Mudcrew with a much smaller number of runners, I was quite apprehensive about how many people would be crowding the coastal path this time and as Storm Ingrid was rearing her windy, soggy head, it also became quite a concern what state the path would be in. In a normal/good weather year as 2024 had been, there were certain parts of the course that were already mud baths and waterlogged - It is Cornwall in January after all - but this weather was going to make it so much harder. I arrived to rain and wind, just as the Sun was setting. The 100 mile runners had already been going for 4 hours and the weather was getting worse.. shudder. I was very pleased with my decision to run the 50 at that point! As Julien (fellow Camino) and I arrived at the Eco Park to register, it resembled Glastonbury at the end of a wet year’s festival. Luckily Benji had warned us of this so I’d come prepared with wellies and was very happy to use them! We had our kit checked and I was pleased to be picked for the full check as it had been so stressful getting it all together I really wanted it to be worth it! I took pleasure in amusing the officials with my mandatory 400 calorie emergency ration made up of a chia charge bar and 3 separately wrapped squashies - you’d never guess I’d done MdS! It was pretty bleak weather with water streaming down the outside of the tents, so we didn’t hang around too long but headed back to our Premier Inn for dinner. After dealing with a porridge pot explosion which coated everything in my bag in an oaty dust, I was glad to be able to watch the Traitors final from the comfort of a nice warm bed and tried not to think about the poor 100 runners as the rain bashed against the window…

The alarm went off too soon at 5am and I went through a pretty standard pre-race routine to sleepily get everything together before heading down to meet Julien. It was raining heavily and we had both opted to wear our waterproof trousers for now at least, just to not start off freezing cold. This time at the Eco Park there was no option to use wellies so I was already ankle deep in mud at 6am before even getting on the bus - it was going to be a very muddy day! We traipsed onto the buses and then got an hour or so of gentle dozing as we wound our way down to the Minack theatre in Porthcurno for the start. By the time we got there, it was light and dry so things were looking up. I’d never been inside the Minack having run past the top of it twice during my 100 recce and the race itself. It was a very impressive location! You enter from the top, so we could see down into the amphitheatre where a samba band were playing enthusiastically. I’d heard that it was better to try and stay as high up as possible so that you don’t get caught behind everyone trying to filter out of the narrow exits but as it turned out they’d changed the rules this time and we were all expected to go to the bottom. The timing mats were at the top so there was no particular rush to get out first. I had a very brief catch up with Jay who was doing the commentary before mustering for the start. No going back now. 

I really haven’t raced that much in bad weather unless you count the heatwave in the desert or the freak freezing rain at Spartathlon last year. Generally all my UK races have been pretty nice so I really have very little experience dealing with waterproofs and keeping warm. I also took a novel approach to Arc training this year by basically not doing Arc training! After all it was ‘only’ the 50 and I’d done most of the course twice before?! I did manage a couple of muddy/bad weather runs but really hadn’t enjoyed them much so instead decided to focus on consistency and enjoying my training - so I’d had a great few months! But now, standing at the bottom of the first of a LOT of hills in a winter storm I did realise that I was an idiot. Too late. As the horn went and we set off up the large steps of the Minack and as my quads already burned I realised I was in for a proper sufferfest. Only 50 miles to go… I’d be done by bedtime. How hard could it be?!

I found the first section to Land’s End (7.7km) very stressful. There were so many people and the trail was often single track and gnarlier than I’m used to so I needed to concentrate. I wanted to take my time but at no point could I as I was in a continual train of runners in front and behind me. The wind was also coming from the west so we were running into it and it was quite strong. Every now and then as the path widened out a runner or two would hurtle down around me making me even more stressed. This was not fun. A gust caught my visor and whipped both it and my buff off my head and into a muddy puddle. I picked it up, it was soaked. I hooked it over my arm and carried on into the wind. I remember this section from the 100, I’d been 50 miles in but I remembered it as more runnable than what had preceded it and I was right. I managed to keep trotting on at a reasonably consistent pace and finally got to Land’s End. It was too soon to need anything so instead I circled the aid station and carried on. As I turned the corner the relief from not running so much into a headwind was bliss. I was on a nice bit of trail so I pulled my flowgel flask half out of my vest for a slurp. The gel wasn’t really flowing as it was supposed to so I stupidly pulled at the mouthpiece with my teeth. It came off completely and the gel rapidly oozed out behind it, coating the inside of the vest pocket and my waterproof glove and the outside of the flask. 8km in and my bottom half was coated in mud, my visor was coated in ice cold muddy water and the rest of me was covered in sticky gel. Good start!

It was still feeling quite bleak with the occasional bursts of rain, continual wind and unrelenting hills, so I was now counting down the distance to Pendeen which was another 16km after Land’s End. I remembered some quite runnable sections of this bit as a fair amount of the trail turns into a gravelly track as you enter the mining area. This was a relief from a mental point of view as well as a physical one as on the trail its impossible to relax at any point, having to think about every foot placement. Unfortunately I relaxed a little too much and after not picking up my foot quite enough I clipped an embedded stone in the path and went flying. I landed hard on my front, bracing myself with my elbows but still winding myself quite badly. I lay there for a few seconds in shock before two kind men scooped me up under my arms. Everyone was very considerate offering to help, but I was luckily relatively unscathed, just taking my time to regain my composure. I’d long since lost any ambition to do well in this race so it became about continual forward progress and I knew I could get it done as long as I didn’t do anything stupid. Pendeen aid station was a welcome sight and after expecting to see just a bleak table of Naak carb drink and fragments of stroopwaffle, I was amazed to see a full Centurion-esque spread! This was definitely not as billed and I might not have lugged quite so much gel with me had I known this would be on offer! I had been going for about 3 hours and was feeling a bit cold and sorry for myself so I gratefully accepted some hot soup from the Angels and had a cheese and pickle sandwich before heading back out into the wind for the long slog. 

The next section to Lelant is feared by most runners. It is notoriously the worst, most technical section of the course and is also the longest section between aid stations with nearly 28km with no support. It is almost impossible to describe how slow some of that terrain is, but having run it once mainly in the dark after 60 odd miles of running and once on my own in a recce in 40-50mph winds, this was going to be the easiest conditions I’d ever tackled it in! I was feeling pretty lonely by this point as given the noise of the wind and waves crashing, the ridiculous mud and bog and rocks to navigate, I hadn’t managed to really talk to anyone. I hadn’t even bothered putting any music on as my headphones are bone conducting and I knew there was too much surrounding noise for me to be able to hear anything. It was at about this point when I met Tom and Colm, two Irish guys from Dublin who came past at just the right point exuding infectious enthusiasm. It was exactly what I needed and I managed to pick up my pace and my mood and run with them. This section would have gone on forever on my own, but having the guys to chat to really helped pass the miles. We weren’t really pushing ourselves cardiovascularly as it wasn’t possible, so we were just steadily getting through it, falling over as little as possible and when we did, trying to land on soft grass rather than on hard rock or spiky gorse. We’d occasionally pick up another runner or two but often only briefly and then we’d be back to a 3 or quite often a 4 with a lady called Debbie. We also started to overtake some 100 runners which was both inspiring and upsetting. We tried to give them all encouragement as we passed, but in reality these were the people who were really battling the cutoffs and they looked broken, having spent the entire night out in a horrendous storm - absolute heroes all of them! I really don’t think I would have made it that far in those conditions and over 60% the field had already dropped out before we even started running! There were also some pretty comical moments during that whole section and as we scrambled over the huge boulders at Zennor and slip-slid our way down the waterlogged grass towards St Ives we were definitely more coated in mud than when we’d first met! I had gone over on my ankles more times than I could count while navigating angular rocks, each time having to tentatively test them to check I hadn’t done any damage and luckily being able to shake it off within a few steps. What I was most pleased with was my shoe choice. I had invested in some new shoes after asking the amazing Hannah Rickman for advice (I don’t know anyone I’d trust more with shoes for muddy/boggy conditions!) Now, wearing my TrailTalon max for the first proper time I was really impressed. I’d been carrying poles for emergencies but I didn’t feel the need to get them out as was managing to keep my footing pretty well even on the really muddy, slippery or waterlogged sections. This was a game changer! 

We emerged onto the tarmac leading into St Ives and it was nice to see lots of friendly supporters cheering us on. We set off through town at a much more consistent jog. There are a few spicy hills coming out of St Ives which I’m in no shape to try and run up, so I got dropped by the guys at this point and just hoped I’d catch up later - they’d offered me a lift back to my hotel which was one logistic I hadn’t yet worked out!! The aid station used to be in St Ives and when I ran the 100 I’d seen my crew there too and I definitely missed having support at this point. I just had to churn out another 5-6km before reaching the checkpoint. I passed more and more 100 runners, now mainly brought down to a determined trudge, as I weaved up and down the few hills around Carbis Bay and towards Lelant. As I approached the checkpoint I noticed some kids spaced out along the road shouting to each other. As I ran past the first girl she shouted my bib number and I realised they were forming a communication chain to allow the volunteers to get out the right drop bags and avoid delays to the runners - genius. I entered the tent with a sigh of relief, knowing I’d conquered the most technical section, reached 51km and the next bit was going to play to my strengths for at least the next 20km - flatter and more runnable. I realised the young people volunteering were the TrailFam crew. I looked around and spotted a boy coming towards me who I recognised: ‘Marius from the podcast!’  I said enthusiastically, hoping not to freak him out! I’d been at Ed Scott’s live recording of the Feet First podcast the week before and Marius had been on the panel. It was so lovely to see him and he was so friendly and helpful, obviously loving the experience. I had to snap a selfie with the future winner of Western States! I also asked him if Hugh (who had also been on the panel) had won the 100 as I hadn’t heard the result and I knew he would know so it was great to get that confirmation! All the young people volunteering at that aid station were so enthusiastic and helpful it really was lovely to see.

I probably spent a bit too long at Lelant putting on dry tops as it was just dark and getting colder. My Irish buddies were still there but they were taking even more time than me so I set off, headtorch donned and tail light lit to the lovely flat road section into Hayle. I felt really good at this point and ran continually all the way through Hayle and on towards the Dunes of Doom… News flash - there is nothing doom-y about the dunes anymore. Since UTMB fully mark the course, there is no risk of getting lost and it was actually such a pleasant experience running on the compacted sand with no risk of clipping a protruding rock for the first time in nearly 60km! It felt soft underfoot and there were only gentle undulations in the dunes so it wasn’t even hard work. They were soon over and before long the Godrevy checkpoint came into view. The path was completely flooded leading into the tent so there was no avoiding ankle deep water at this point. I’d been wearing waterproof socks which I absolutely swear by for a race like this but I could no longer tell if my feet were wet or dry. It didn’t matter - they were comfortable! I collected a cup of tea and some flapjack and walked out with them, back through the puddle and up towards the northern coastal path. I remember this section clearly from the 100. It had been early afternoon in blazing sunshine and if you looked down the cliff you could see a whole beach full of seals. I also remember being so sad about how runnable it was and how sore my legs were so hadn’t been able to make the most of it! This was completely different. It was pitch black, the wind was howling over my shoulder it started raining sideways which hit the side of my face so painfully it felt like hail. But my legs were fine - really fine. I pulled up my hood and set off running, overtaking runner after runner from both the 100 and the 50. I may not be fast, I may be rubbish at hills and mud and technical terrain, but I do know long races and this was me in my element. The KM ticked down rapidly, I sloshed through path-wide puddle after path-wide puddle. There was no more trying to avoid mud or water - there were less than 15KM to go and this was in the bag. The only bits of the course left to bother me were the Bitches and Sally’s Bottom. All deep coves that you approach down slippery dirt and big steps and then have to climb up the other side in the same manner. In the 100 they had been hell but this was a different challenge as the mud and continual rain just made them more hazardous. I managed to get down and up the first two with not too many problems and then encountered an unexpected challenge trying to actually descend into Portreath. This was essentially just a muddy trail into town but it had become an absolute sloppy mess with mostly no border of grass or anything with more grip to slow down the sliding. What made it worse was that the wind had picked up to the strongest it had been all day and was directly behind me so was pushing me faster down the hill so I was almost skiing! It was horrendous - everyone was struggling so the real worry was sliding into another runner and taking them out! I finally made it to the road and was able to trot into the final checkpoint leaving only 7km to go. I was in a great mood by now and chatted to the volunteers for probably too long. I even tried one of the famous stroopwaffles which I have to say was underwhelming! Probably as I hadn’t drunk enough all day and a dry waffle was really not what my mouth needed! I finally head out and started to make my way up the massive hill back onto the coastal path. Another flashback - crying on Wez’ crew Tracy when she told me there were two more Bitches to go! This time I was prepared and although they definitely weren’t fun I was in a much better state, physically and mentally, to tackle them. I finally made it to Porthtowan and I knew there was only the big hill back to the Eco Park and I’d be done. I dragged myself through the village and after a slow traipse up the hill I finally reached the finish field and was able to pick up the pace for a respectable run through the line. Tom and Colm were still in the finish area so it was great to see them and my friend Jamie who was running the 25 on the Sunday was there to give me a friendly FYB. Jay was also there - apologising again for being the reason I’d just had to endure that!!

It was such a relief to finish but the volume of mud everywhere just made everything really difficult! When we finally ventured back to the car, Colm and I let Tom try and get the car out before we got in to give him the best chance of getting through the mud. Loads of cars were getting stuck and needing towing and I heard later from Julien he’d suffered the same fate! Luckily Tom managed to get up onto the reinforced metal path that had been laid for the cars to enter and exit the car park and we were free! 

After the initial miserable 10 miles I had enjoyed the day much more, but having done the Mudcrew 100 and the UTMB 50 I definitely enjoyed the 100 a lot more. The volunteers (Arc Angels) were still great, but the 100 was made so much better by having crew at points in between the aid stations and fewer runners. I know my need for crew was much reduced by only running the 50, but even in the 100 now crew can only go to very limited places. I am in complete awe of everyone who toed the start line for the 100 this year, whether they finished or not. This was a proper Arc of Attrition experience and it will go down in the history books as one of the tougher years I’m sure. For me though, back to some nice flat London roads for a while!