EcoTrail Wicklow 46k review

EcoTrail Wicklow 46k review
by Allan LEONARD
26 September 2026

The forecast for good weather proved true, as I lightly jogged the kilometre down the road to the beachside esplanade of Bray town. This was confirmed by a live broadcast link with race crew at Bray Head, announcing the perfect conditions. The race director, Seán Clifford, declared that this year’s event was set to be Ireland’s biggest trail race ever, with over 2,300 registered runners. I was part of the 500 runners who signed up for the EcoTrail Wicklow 46k race today.

The event activities started two days before, with a pre-race gathering at the Hudson Bar. Clifford hosted a panel-style discussion with exemplary runners of various experiences — Sorcha Loughnane, John Boyle, Niamh Fitzpatrick, and Dave Ryan. Before the discussion, I found myself seated and chatting with Boyle, whom I quickly learned has run hundreds of road marathons and dozens of trail ultramarathons. This EcoTrail Wicklow 46k would be my first ultramarathon.

The panel conversation was informative and entertaining. None of the five runners bother with pre- or post-run stretching, or use rollers. One does yoga. All take vitamin supplements.

Boyle, even after all of his running events, said that he didn’t consider himself a runner. Perhaps he was thinking of being a competitive runner, like the other panellists could be called easily. But this prompted a response from the audience later, a woman who said that Boyle’s description of running for the adventure and comradery and joy of participating with others was the essence of what being a runner was, in her view. The audience agreed.

In our race day briefing email, we were all encouraged to collect our bib the evening before the races, from 4.00pm. When I arrived shortly after 5.00pm, I noticed a long queue of several dozen outside a tent, with no one moving. I joined and sat down. A fellow runner told me that he got a message from the race organisers that the bib collection wouldn’t start until 5.30pm. This was another piece of correspondence that I never received, along with any notice of the gathering event or my race number assignment needed for collecting my bib. There is something amiss about Bear Races event management here.

The tent opened at 5.45pm, with one volunteer for each of the five races. Patiently, I collected my bib and left the tent at 6.15pm. I noticed the queue was still very long. In contrast, at EcoTrail Paris 2026, there were several volunteers for each race, no queues; my collection took five minutes.

Madame Oui and I finished that evening with a good pasta feed at The Platform. Delicious and generous portions. We shared breakfast with bowls of porridge. I was well loaded with carbs.

I placed myself towards the middle of the pack at the start pen, calculating that’s where I might finish. We set off and I kept my effort low. Just as well, because when we reached the trail to climb up to Bray Head, all of us actually had to stop completely for some moments. The path was technical, with tree roots, jagged rock, and actually some scrambling. My fell running training with BARF club well prepared me for this. At the top, some posed for selfies with the large, landmark cross. But my mission today was to stop for the least amount of time possible, regardless of the scenery.

The race course was well marked and well marshalled. The GPX course file, downloaded onto my Garmin watch, was meticulously detailed. There were several points where we crossed car traffic, which was stopped by Gardai. There was one moment where an impatient driver got out of her car to complain, and the Garda officer told her, “Ma’am, please get back to your car. Ma’am, please get back to your car. Now you’re the reason for the hold up.” Today, the priority was the runners, and like a closed-road bicycling sportif, it was a relief to run without much concern about road traffic.

Actually, towards the end of the race, it was pedestrians who were creating obstacles on the trails and footpaths. I appreciate they have an equal right of way, but many of them were oblivious to us runners flying towards and past them. Several times, I shouted, “Passing through!” The worst incident was a woman with her large dog, walking backwards into my path metres before the finish line. “Dog!” I yelled, just missing it.

The race course had a mixture of terrain, including large rocky paths, narrow single track, steep gravel climbs and descents, switchbacks in the mountains, paved footpaths along roads, smooth dirt trails in forests. What I liked about this course was its variety, without any one section becoming dominant. For example, I found Skyline Mournes to be all about scrambling up rocks and earth, and UTMB Speedgoat about the alpine style climbs. I like to run trail courses that I can actually run on. EcoTrail Wicklow has a good mix, with enough time and distance to recover after any particular technical section.

I reached the first full aid station at about 15k (Great Sugar Loaf car park), feeling relatively fresh. I was carrying two litres of liquid with me — 2 x 500ml carb mix and 2 x 500ml salt water. I only consumed one of each and decided that I’d only need to refill my salt water flask. I was in and out of the station in under two minutes.

Kept a reasonable pace thereafter through Powerscourt, navigating past day trippers walking towards the stunning waterfall. A good gentle downhill paved section that helped with split times. Then a brutal descent, technical trail, and climb out of Glensoulan Valley. Thankfully a long enough wide path to recover, followed by a gentle climb back to the same aid station, which was now at 32k. By now, I was starting to feel the effects of pace and climb. I filled two flasks, one with water and the other with the Altar carb mix on offer, which I regretted because it was very diluted; should have used my own bagged mix. Again, in and out in about a minute.

I looked up and dreaded the thought of having to climb The Great Sugar Loaf mountain the way we came in, now that we were looping back to the finish. But then we turned right and began a descent. A very steep, punishing descent. Even with my poles, this shredded my quads. I was relieved to reach the footbridge crossover at Kilmaconoge, even though I knew there was a good 500m of climbing left.

Here, my poles were packed away and I was reluctant to get them out again, because assembling and collapsing my Mountain King carbon fibre poles was a complete faff. Its erection system involves pulling the top up to reveal a string knot that you manoeuvre into a slit in the plastic ring at the top, then reinsert the top plastic tube into the pole. To dissemble, you repeat the exercise in reverse, but if the top tube finds its way back into the pole, you can’t dislodge the four sections to fold up. Several times today I struggled in both actions. I think it’s time for me to find an easier pole system.

I caught up with a pair of runners whom we exchanged passing each other during the run. Now we were walking up a stiff climb on a paved surface and started up a conversation. I kept my poles away and used the hands-on-quads technique. The natter helped keep my mind off the work and pass the time. When the course flattened out, they were away. But I met up with them at the finish, for an encore chat.

I made mental notes at 33k (longest trail race to date) and 42k (longest distance ever, farther than my 1996 Belfast Marathon). Climbing the final kilometres toward Bray Head required some concentration. I felt like I was only plodding along, but my split times indicated I was still in the game. I knew a few kilometres earlier that I wouldn’t hit my semi-target time of 6:30:00. I’d settle for anything reasonable under seven hours. Then, with the climbing over, 6:45:00 was realistic. Could I actually hit sub 6:40:00? It was worth a final effort.

So, once the course marshal said that it was all downhill after the left turn where he was stationed, I reached into my reserves. I ran down the trail deep steps and narrow rocky turns with abandon. Nearly turned my left ankle twice. Then suddenly nearly fell completely forward, saving myself by jumping up and landing hard — both hamstrings instantly cramping up. Oh god. “Walk, walk, walk,” I said out loud, knowing that stopping would be the end of me. A few ginger trotting steps and I was away again.

Finally made the wide, cliff walk road and I was now running like a madman, shouting at anyone in my way. I was completely focused on the finish line just a kilometre away. Unlike my experience at UTMB Snowdonia, I was able to open up and let it rip. The errant dog safely pulled back from my path, I zigzagged into the chute, where I saw the time count up, 6:39:56, 6:39:57, 6:39:58, 6:39:59… I crossed just as it hit 6:40:00. Ugh, so close!

I came to a stop within the 20-metre pen and bent over with hands on my knees. And unlike UTMB Speedgoat, I caught my breath within 30 seconds. I noticed another runner whom we exchanged positions throughout the run, and congratulated him. Collected my EcoTrail Wicklow glass tankard and had it filled with sponsor Wicklow Wolf non-alcoholic ale (which was okay but not as good as Kinnegar’s IMO).

Found Madame Oui nearby and I gave her a thorough debriefing, whether she wanted to hear it or not, ha. I was grateful for her making the effort to travel with me for moral support.

That evening, while enjoying a trophy steak dinner together, I realised that just maybe my official time would be under 6:40, because of the timing chips on our bibs, recording times from when we actually cross the start line. Sure enough, the next morning I investigated and learned that my official net result time was 6:39:35. My official gross time was 6:39:54; don’t know how I misread the clock coming in! In any case, I left it all on the course. And what went wrong for me in previous trail races went right on this one. There was still some learning for me to work on — consuming more carbs during the run, getting better poles, working on descents after fatigue. Yet my first ultramarathon trail experience was a positive one, worth the increase in training and commitment.

Looking forward to my second ultramarathon.