Race report
Wielkopolska Poland Province, Poland, 11.05.2019.
GWiNT ULTRA CROSS 2019 r.
It turns out you can run 110 km as a middle-aged lady! 😉
The dust and emotions from the Wielkopolska Gwint race have dissipated, but a spark of memories still burns in my heart, and delightful images keep playing in my mind. In the middle of the day, just thinking about the race brings a big smile to my face—no need for declarations to know that I want to do it all over again.
For the uninitiated, Gwint is a trail running event held in the forest. Personally, this was my fourth time participating, but in a slightly different capacity. Three times, I ran the 55 km distance, which, in light of this year's race, was just 50% of my route. So it happened—110 km became part of my life. I truly feel like an ultrarunner now! 😉 I was well-prepared for the race, although I was a bit under the weather. But I made it! And my personal awesomeness has grown by at least 100%.
I think many of my friends who finished this race, even if not covering as many kilometers, have nurtured their own seed of awesomeness. That seed will sprout and eventually bear fruit for all of you! 🌱
My husband and my friends described my race preparations as if I were gearing up for war. And indeed, it was a WAR. A battle against time, health, food, sleeplessness, preparation, and organization. So many adversaries, and then just little me—barely over 150 cm tall.
Due to digestive challenges, I had to switch to an easily digestible diet: blending, cooking, and cutting back on carbs and fats—perfectly suited for an ultra, right? 😉
THE TRIP TO PICK UP THE RACE PACKET.
Since the race was set to start at 3 a.m., my running buddies and I decided to stay not at the race headquarters but near the starting line in Grodzisk Wielkopolski. We wanted to get to bed earlier and use every possible minute to rest before the start. And let me tell you, it was an excellent idea.
On Friday afternoon, during our drive to pick up the race packet in Nowy Tomyśl, we discussed our plans and strategies. Honestly? I didn't have a strategy—oh wait, I did have one: finish within the 18-hour time limit. That would allow me a pace of about 9:50 per kilometer. It seemed doable, though I always approach such goals with humility and respect for the challenge. The guys had their own detailed plans, which I listened to attentively.
While driving, we double-checked whether everything was packed and ready: backpack, shoes, shirt, socks, energy snacks, headlamp, power bank for my watch… And then it hit me—like a vivid mental image—MY WATCH! Oh no, I'd left my watch in the bathroom at home! I'd looked at it right before leaving, repeating to myself like a mantra not to forget it.
A wave of cold sweat washed over me—total despair. But after a moment, I realized: with my simple strategy, the watch wouldn't even be necessary. And you know what?
My amazing husband, after dropping us off at the charmingly named Behapowiedz Hotel, got back in the car and drove all the way to Poznań. For the watch. If anyone doesn't know yet, let me tell you: this man is the most wonderful person in the world!
Meanwhile, during my total watchless meltdown, we went to pick up the race packet. In the familiar school gymnasium, we proudly approached the booth marked NORMAL GWINT. You see, there's also the humorously named NOT NORMAL GWINT, which is the MINI GWINT (55 km), and the SUPER GWINT (100 miles for the bold).
The packet included a promised beer mug, a bottle of beer, and a very cool hoodie—definitely the kind of hoodie that earns you some street cred when you wear it in the neighborhood. 😉 I was particularly happy to see my bib number equipped with a timing sponge—phew, no need to mess with a shoe-mounted chip!
As the kind man handing out the packets looked at me, he asked, "So how are you planning to run those 110 km?" I must have looked pretty rough because I replied, "I have no idea" 😊.
START
The proverbial "night" and the preparations for the start—laying out clothes and having a "power breakfast" (a cheese roll and cola)—passed in the blink of an eye. Suddenly, it was 1:30 a.m., and it was time to get up. Walking to the starting line in the middle of the night already felt magical and almost unreal to me, as it was my first time ever starting a race at night.
3:00 a.m. We're standing in a cozy group at the START. The organizer gives us a boost of positive energy, we count down from 10, and then—it begins! Strategically, I positioned myself at the very back, with the mindset that anyone I managed to overtake would count as a personal victory. Highly recommended—it's a great motivator since, after all, you can't get worse than being last! 😉
It seemed like everyone shot off ahead at full speed. I had no idea why, considering we weren't facing 10 km but 110 km 😊. A slight unease crept into my mind about being left alone in the night, but luckily, my friend Grzegorz Kulesza started with me, giving me a chance to survive this adventure together.
I have no idea when the night slipped away. After entering the forest at the start, all my unease vanished. A sense of calm took over—the forest was fragrant and asleep. All we could hear were our breaths, laughter, and the sound of our footsteps. I slowly found my rhythm. I caught up with the master of pacing, Krzysiek Zieliński, and decided to stick with him for as long as I could.
But the night faded all too quickly. Birds began to sing, and the dawn mercilessly pushed its way into reality. The morning's magic was captured in a mist rising above the ground, stretching to the horizon and blending with the clouds.
Day had arrived. Krzysiek disappeared into the bushes, and I lost my pacemaker. Somehow, without even realizing it, the first aid station appeared.
RAKONIEWICE
21 km. You arrive at the first checkpoint, and there's already a campfire burning. Oh, the irony! The smoky scent of burning wood and the sight of relaxed runners (who even gave me permission for a photo 😉) brought a smile to my face. These were the 100-mile runners, taking their time and enjoying the moment. For me, though, it was far too early to rest—I still felt fresh and in an ultra-relaxed state of mind.
I approached the lady in charge to have my presence logged, and that's when something awful happened. The feeling of awkwardness and embarrassment still lingers with me to this day. The lady simply informed me that I was in 78th place. And somehow—nobody knows how—the thought traveled down the back of my throat, activating my vocal cords, and out came a short but cutting statement: "I don't give a damn."
The lady was visibly taken aback. Taking this opportunity, I want to sincerely apologize. Unfortunately, my blunt honesty rudely spilled from my lips, inadvertently hurting the atmosphere. There was nothing left to do but pick up the pace and dash away 😊—because I still felt fresh and ready to embrace the adventure ahead!
GŁODNO
After losing Krzysztof to the bushes, another friend joined me on the trail (yes, yet another male companion—reminds me of what my husband often says, but hey, that's the charm of running 😊, especially since statistically, more women run than men 😉). This time, it was Jarosław Olszewski. We ran well together, maintaining a steady 7:00 pace—no need to go faster.
I warned Jarek that I didn't plan to stop at the next checkpoint, as I wasn't hungry 😊 (even though the name of the village humorously suggested otherwise). The checkpoint was very tempting; I could see tables laden with food in the distance. But I didn't give in to the allure. It had been 15 km since the last station, and I didn't feel the need to refill my water or grab any extra snacks.
Drawing on the reserves of strength within me, I calmly trotted on. This time, though, I continued alone—Jarek succumbed to the temptations of the buffet. 😊
WOLSZTYN
The section from Głodno to Wolsztyn was familiar to me from previous editions. I knew what to expect and the kind of terrain I'd face. As always, it was classic Gwint: soft and cross-country—pure bliss. I also knew that a fantastic checkpoint awaited me at Fala Park, right on the shore of Lake Wolsztyńskie. And there, my husband would be waiting with tomato soup and rice. What more could I want?
As I approached the lake shore, I could see the rest station in the distance, offering a moment of respite and an opportunity to swap out gear if needed. I arrived in a fantastic time for me: 5 hours and 21 minutes—one minute faster than my previous race here on the 55 km course.
I was genuinely surprised—me, a total amateur—by how maintaining a steady pace could yield the same or even better results than starting fast and finishing much slower. This realization taught me a lot. I now know there's no point in trying to rip up the ground at the beginning of the race.
So, I made it to the halfway point. The cheerful volunteer crew greeted me warmly, and I took a brief pause. Seeing my husband gave me a huge boost of energy. The ladies at the station kindly offered to heat up my soup, though it wasn't really necessary.
I knew I couldn't stay there for too long—my muscles cool down quickly, and restarting would cost me a lot. And it did. My husband claimed I was there for just five minutes, but in reality, it was more like 15—soup, refilling water, setting up the power bank to charge my watch, and so on.
But I pulled myself together, even though it was incredibly difficult. The sight of people sitting at tables, basking in the sunlight, was incredibly tempting. Still, I resisted and pushed on.
I ended up stalling. Getting back into rhythm took me about 5 kilometers. Ahead of me lay one of the most interesting sections of the course—sand and little hills. I was excited for these features because I genuinely enjoy them.
Unfortunately, I was running alone. My phone decided to stop cooperating, and I hadn't uploaded the course to my watch. In moments of uncertainty in the forest, I simply waited for someone to catch up from behind, and that was that. Knowing I was in 78th place 😉 didn't exactly boost my running confidence, but I pressed on regardless.
Suddenly, on a sandy straightaway, a woman appeared ahead of me. A strategic thought lit up in my mind: catch her. The spark of competition and the drive to push myself activated hidden reserves of energy. My new companion was doing a walk-run strategy, which I dislike because I cool down quickly and find it hard to restart. I prefer running slowly but steadily.
I caught up with her! At first, we leapfrogged—she passed me while I slowed, and I overtook her when she walked. I fought hard not to let her leave me behind. I actually enjoyed it, though I didn't quite understand why she was fighting so intensely since we were only around the 60 km mark, with plenty still ahead. Eventually, she gave up, and I left her behind. It was an incredible feeling of satisfaction!
Not far ahead, I caught up with another runner. He casually informed me that I was the third woman in the open category. ???. How could that be? I was nearly 80th! I asked him if he was joking because the idea felt as absurd as winning the lottery. But it turns out—these things happen 😊.
In that instant, I understood why the woman I had just passed fought so hard to stay ahead—she didn't want to lose her third-place spot. I believed the man's words and took off with renewed energy. I ran and ran, joyfully clinging to the thought that this might be a once-in-a-lifetime moment.
One hill, another, and then—wheee—down the slope. But wait—hold on. Where's the marker tape? AAAAA—I got lost. It felt like the end. I wilted mentally and physically, like a deflated balloon. Reset. Fight back! Don't give up! That's how it went.
I turned back and climbed the gentle hill to the first marker tape. Got it—I'm not giving up, no way. And just like that, before I even realized it, I reached the next checkpoint.
KUŹNICA ZBĄSKA
Between Wolsztyn and Kuźnica, there were about 11 kilometers. But oh, what an 11 kilometers it was! A real plot twist 😊.
Before the checkpoint, my husband ran out to meet me, asking what I needed and delivering news I still couldn't fully believe. At the station, I was told once again that I was 3rd in the open category. Hearing it confirmed by the race organizers themselves, I finally believed it 100%. Too many facts to deny 😊.
Leaving this checkpoint wasn't easy either. The relaxed atmosphere, the lake—it all made it tempting to linger. Plus, you had to stay alert, as the route suddenly veers off, and it's easy to get distracted. I know this from experience—during a previous race on the mini course, I got lost right here.
I happily trotted along the sandy hills when suddenly, I heard a voice behind me. A woman. Of course—focus on running, not on admiring the bushes and the scenery! I never look back while running, so I didn't realize this was a different woman than the one I had passed earlier. She caught up to me, running what felt like lightning speed compared to my pace. And yes, she was in the same 110 km race as me.
I compared her to a high-speed train, Pendolino, while I was a steady TLK passenger train—there was no way I could match her. I had the energy to chase her, but with a marathon's worth of distance still ahead, I knew I needed to keep that in mind. I let her go and stuck to my plan: SLOWLY BUT FORWARD.
For a brief moment, it was nice to imagine myself standing on the general classification podium 😉.
JASTRZĘBSKO STARE
I don't even remember how I got to the next checkpoint. This time, I ate some oranges—both from the station and from my husband—and sprayed my legs with ICEM (an ice spray instead of oral painkillers) before heading out again.
On this stretch, I fell into the trap of long-distance loneliness. Philosophical thoughts and musings crept in. I concluded that I wasn't cut out for such long races. My pace had slowed significantly—far slower than I wanted. Honestly, a magazine or book to read along the way would've been great at that point.
I had no one to talk to, no one to chase. The long straight sections started appearing, and with them, my first walk-run intervals. Ugh, not my favorite 😉.
MIEDZICHOWO
The last checkpoint. 93 km! This was always a spot with an impressive food spread. I nibbled on an orange and… saw Mrs. Pendolino. At that moment, I forgot the entire world. She was sitting at the checkpoint. My racing instinct kicked in, and the desire to fight returned.
She set off, and I followed. But Mrs. Pendolino is, well, Pendolino—I couldn't catch her (she ended up leaving me behind by a solid 30 minutes!). After just one kilometer of chasing, I paid the price for losing control. Without ICE spray or any painkillers, I faced a huge challenge. My knees began to hurt. The terrain didn't help—it was unforgiving, with hills, bushes, and a soft surface that felt more like punishment. Every stab of pain was like needles piercing my brain.
A few kilometers from the finish, I bumped into the man who'd earlier told me I was in third place. We were both in the same state—completely wiped out. We switched to walking, watching in awe as the energetic runners from the mini-distance sprinted past us. Oh, how I wished I could move like them! But at least, walking together, time passed quickly.
We emerged from the forest. These were the final kilometers, the last meters. The man suggested we run to the finish line, saying it wouldn't look great to just walk across it. My whole body screamed, Not a chance! I thought, Forget it, I'm walking to the finish!
But then—miraculously—my legs started running. I heard the sounds of the finish line, and my body, as if it had forgotten the pain, let me skip—yes, skip!—across the finish line. Can it be done? Oh, yes, it can!
NOWY TOMYŚL – META
With a magical little bell, you register yourself at the finish line, announcing to the world that you've arrived, that you're here! You're handed a beautiful medal, and you reunite with your loved ones and friends. You still can't fully believe that you've crossed yet another personal boundary and made your dream come true.
And here's the kicker—you don't yet realize that after this whirlwind of emotions, from 78th place to 3rd in the women's open classification, you're 1st in your age category with a time of 14 hours and 38 minutes! 😊
OH YEAH! 🎉
THE ORGANIZER
A magical constellation of human effort, creating an event that imposes no barriers or restrictions on its participants. One of the few organizers I know who is flexible and respects every runner. They excel at preparing the course, aid stations, and volunteers, while crafting a truly enchanting atmosphere. Their events don't even need advertising—registration fills up within half an hour of opening.
But listen, if you're dreaming about your first ultra, this is the place to do it! Just don't sign up too quickly, because I also want to run it again in 2020! 😉
RUNNING HACKS
Do your thing.
Slowly but surely.
Always PB (Personal Best – doing the best you can, following Janusz Marciniak's method 😉).
And always abiding by the golden rule etched in my mind:
Never give up! 😊
THANKS
The whole world knows that the running madness of one family member can drive their loved ones to the brink of insanity. Training plans in Excel, canceled weekend trips, special diets, hours-long workouts… the list goes on.
Thank you to my husband for bravely enduring it all! Unfortunately, I must warn you—there's more to come!
Thank you to my running coach for the "Excel of life," which made it possible for me to reach the finish line intact.
Thank you to Karol Bodak for keeping my body in excellent overall shape.
Thank you to the Night Runners group for all the cheers and countless shared training sessions.
Thank you to my "Running, Rambling Family" for putting up with my endless monologues about lack of form, peak form, health, illness, and all the day-to-day worries and joys 😊.
Thank you to the organizer for the unexpected blessing of not opening registration on time, sparing me the chaos of trying to sign up in the middle of Asia, on a train, racing against keyboard keys.
This race marked the beginning of my life project: running an ultra on every continent! 🌍😊