I’ve done a couple of races in the last month and I’ll get to them at some stage but still fresh in my mind is a wonderfully different Friday night race – the Batterie Moltke 10k (OK this is now a few months late but it was fresh in my mind at the time!).

If you don’t know, Batterie Moltke is an unfinished World War II former coastal artillery battery in St Ouen in north-west Jersey. As the only part of the British Isles to be occupied by Nazi Germany, Jersey (and the other Channel Isles) feature many fortifications which made up part of Hitler’s Atlantic Wall.

So how does Batterie Moltke become part of my weekend running plans?

Well Jersey is pretty blessed with running events and this year I’m trying to do new races or those which I’ve never done before.

Only run once before (bloody Covid), Batterie Moltke is a 5 or 10k race put on by Trail Monkey Running around the roads, cliff paths and of course bunker of L’Etacq.

That area of Jersey is one of my favourite so I was excited to get out and try out the course. So much so that I was sat at home in my running kit twiddling my thumbs at 6pm, full of nervous energy and wishing the time away.

To catch up on some mileage I’d missed earlier in the week, I’d decided to try and get up early, parking a little further away to then run to the number collection and start line.

What faced me when I got to Grosnez was a northwesterly wind crashing into the car and cliffs below. Immediately I smiled at the thought of the race to come – my kind of run – and one that I’d done countless times on these paths in the past, in far worse conditions at times.

As part of the West coast, L’Etacq presents a stunning place to watch the sun go down, with views of Sark and Guernsey out to see when the clouds aren’t rolling in and you can see through the driving rain.

Thankfully the rain held off this time (unlike during RTR) and I was whooshed through to the race number collection with a buffeting tail wind. As I approached, I got that sinking realisation that the direction arrows were all pointing the opposite, making it a head wind to come.

A quick number pick up (#72) and with half an hour to the briefing, I ran off to a) get in some more bonus miles and b) to keep warm. It was also a good chance to look at some of the course that I hadn’t reviewed beforehand – let’s just say there would be a significant up and down!

As I got back up to the start line, I was a little worried by the gents answering the call of nature upwind from me but luckily no sprinkle or tinkle was forthcoming as I headed into the group of nearly 70 runners waiting to hear from Paul. And wait I did. With the noise and my generally failing hearing, I didn’t really hear much but as with most races it comes down to a couple of key things – pay attention to the marshals and be nice to everyone.

The start line had loads of people I know from the Jersey running scene and it was nice to chat with them all. It reminded me what I’m missing not doing so many of these events and I’ll try to do more. But with training at the moment it’s tough to fit in a short race. #UltraProblemsAmIRight

Countdown done and we are off along the gravel path to the road. With a big weekend of running ahead, I’m keen not to overstretch but it’s so easy to get excited. Especially when I know that just around the corner is a beautiful sweeping downhill section.

It looks like the kind of scene that Top Gear would love to film a challenge. Curvy downhill roads with roaring seas behind, smashing into cliff on one side and flying across a golden beach to the other before crashing into sea walls which protect the farmers fields behind.

If you look at my Strava data (here), you can see exactly where the downhill section is as I FLEW. Gravity is your friend on a downhill so why not get involved. I’m always amazed how many people have the brakes on.

Trying desperately to slow at the end of the road section, a slightly technical entrance led to the big incline of the lap. As much as my racing head might want to run up, my training tired legs and “you won’t run it in an ultra” mindset won out and I just watched people plough past. I’m not hugely competitive except against myself but I was fairly sure I would see some of these people again if they were doing the whole 10k.

At the top of the steps was where things get really interesting.

Batterie Moltke

Head torch on, down the ramp and into a scene of organised chaos as runners effectively did shuttle runs in a former Nazi bunker. As you do.

The volunteers excelled themselves here, directing traffic with the same expertise as the air traffic controllers just down the road. Off to the left, keeping left, and straining to catch a glimpse of the faces coming towards me with their headtorches blazing.

No idea how far we went but at the end of the tunnel we were turned around to the central point, only to be sent out again on another tunnel spur. If anyone was able to spot my face through the glare of halogen, they would’ve seen a massive grin. How often do you get to do something like this??

The final tunnel led off to the gun battery and here we ran a circle around the base of the huge cannon, with artefacts of the occupation around the corridor.

All the way round, a (in my head) dainty skip over a large puddle almost covering the entirety of the entrance and then it was back up the ramp and out, into the slowly dying daylight.

With the batterie out of the way, I was back on familiar territory and trotting away towards Groznez.

The sun was setting beautifully over the to the west and the sky was turning pink and orange as it went. The light was going but I was determined to keep my headtorch off as long as possible to get my eyes used to the twilight and save battery life when I’m up a mountain.

The wind was gusting pretty brutally as I went, dropping every now and then just as you leant into it and fell forward before picking back up and driving you inland. But these were some of my favourite paths in Jersey and love them most when its whipping up a storm. There is nowhere like it.

Seeing lights in the car park ahead meant Groznez was approaching and I heard a “Hi Sam” from Sylvie even though I couldn’t see any faces because of the headtorches. She took this awesome picture of me!

And just like that, we turned around and everything was quiet, the wind was behind me and I was pushed forward with that hidden force.

Considering how much I’d run up here, I was surprised how much I hadn’t actually explored but when the cliff views are so spectacular, moving even a few metres away seemed a shame.

The light was still going as I got to the finish line (or halfway point for me) but I was determined to go as long as I could. Heading for my descent down to L’Etacq, the marshal checked I was OK with light but I was flying past her before she’d even finished her sentence.

Lap 2

Getting to bottom though, I definitely needed the torch to find my way through the gate and from there I would keep it on for the rest of the race.

The bunker was just as fun as before, if not more as the 5k runners had dropped out and it was almost serene at points running through the subterranean concrete tunnels with so much history, and my thudding footsteps, echoing through them.

Coming out of the batterie, I felt comfortable pushing on, caught some way between other runners and with no real idea of where I was in the standings. Who cares when you’re having fun!

I was so comfortable that I looked out to the darkening sea and immediately went over on my left ankle, shouting in anger more than pain as it twisted below me and I hobbled a few steps before tentatively jogging on. I also called out “Sorry I’m fine” as I suddenly remembered any volunteers still on the course may have feared the worse.

Running on in annoyance, muttering internally about focusing more, I made the turn at Grosnez, only to go fully arse over tit in the dark about 100 metres further on, this time lying on back for a couple of seconds in almost embarrassment before picking myself up and vowing to do better for the rest of the lap.

And so I did, and at some pace. I wanted to finish my brilliant race with positive thoughts, not dwelling on the couple of mistakes. It ended a few kilometres later with a canter through the finish line and a slice of cake for the run back to the car.