The Gralloch was never supposed to be about winning. It was about learning. As one of the UCI Gravel World Series qualifiers, and as I later discovered, the largest qualifier on the entire UCI gravel calendar.  It offered the perfect opportunity to assess where I’m at in my training, both physically and mentally. This race wasn’t just another tick on the calendar, it was a mirror which reflected a lot back at me.

Set in the rugged Galloway Forest Park in Scotland, The Gralloch is no small undertaking. With fast-paced fire road sections, technical gravel trails, and a highly competitive field, it’s an event that demands not just fitness, but focus. It was also a big contrast to the kind of gravel events I’ve grown to love, like the TRAKA, with its Catalonian dust, vibrant energy, and a welcoming atmosphere that’s about more than just results.

First off, the racing itself: fast, aggressive, and structured. Indicative of classic UCI, the vibe was what you might expect, intense, dialed-in, and full of highly competitive riders. And while there’s a lot to respect about that, I can’t lie… I’m still not totally sure how I feel about these kinds of events.  It just seems a little less friendly, you know?

Don’t get me wrong, there’s a place for them. But the rules, the regs, and the razor-sharp focus on position and podiums? It’s not exactly my scene. I found myself missing the vibe of the Gravel Earth Series - the kind of events that feel more like global adventures than elite-level showdowns. When I rode TRAKA, I didn’t just race, I experienced Girona. That’s the stuff that fuels me.

I am also not writing this as a justification for being a solid middle of the pack rider...  but there are only 3 spaces on the podium and when the winners were coming in a STAGGERING 3:08:53, I'll be here doing my thing at the 4:30 mark!  Seriously, 3:08 for 110km is insane!

See, gravel racing for me isn’t about beating others. It’s about testing myself. It’s about seeing how far I’ve come and what gaps I still need to fill. The Gralloch became my measuring stick. It was race four in a brutal four-week stretch of big weekends. My legs weren’t fresh. But I still turned up, and I still got it done.

And it was hard. Really hard.  I wanted to push myself as hard as I could for this point in my training.

The route itself wasn’t especially technical compared to other gravel events, but the pace made up for it. From the start, it was full gas. Riders trying to make early breaks, groups are forming and fracturing constantly. But hre is the difference, I was racing my own race, and I had to remind myself of that over and over.  It's TOO EASY to get swept up in racing others and burning out, missing out on the experience and type 2 fun.  But I thought 'Can I go faster here, yes or no?", If it was yes, PUSH; if it was no, HOLD PACE.  But that’s exactly why I was there. To feel it. To find those edges.

This is where things get a bit philosophical. I saw a few posts during the London and Manchester Marathon weekends, some from 'high-profile' voices like Joe Wicks, saying that these races aren’t about numbers or pushing yourself. Just turn up and enjoy it. And I get the sentiment. But I also respectfully disagree.  Not to mention that Joe Wicks gets his space guaranteed, and then posts videos about how you could turn up and just walk it and take it easy, but I think that takes away from the essence of the event...

If you’re investing time, money, energy, and emotion into a challenge, whether that’s a marathon or a gravel race, I think you should turn up with the intent to push yourself. Not to beat others. But to be your best. To put in a performance that reflects your effort and growth.  To make yourself proud.  That could be a walk, or that could be the run of your life, and everything in between - effort is subjective and on a sliding scale, but it feels the same to everyone individually.

Because if we’re just “doing it to do it,” what are we learning? Where’s the meaning?

That’s how I approached The Gralloch. Not to qualify for the worlds (although hey, maybe one day), but to mark a moment in time. To plant a flag and say: this is where I’m at right now, and this is what I need to work on.

And to be honest, my stats weren’t mind-blowing. I finished 190th out of 286 in my age category. At TRAKA, I came in somewhere around 700th. If I was obsessed with rankings, that would eat me up. But I’m not. Because those numbers sit within a bigger context: I showed up. I rode hard. I sustained a pace I didn’t think I could. And after four big weekends in a row, I was still standing.

There’s pride in that.

But here’s the kicker: it’s so easy to let those numbers drain your joy. You cross the finish line with a huge grin. You feel proud. And then you check your rank. And suddenly that pride deflates, replaced by self-doubt. You start comparing. You start wondering.  All of a sudden, the gratitude and happiness wane...

I remember being overtaken by three guys with about a kilometre to go. I was smiling and thinking that this was awesome. Then I overtook them again. Then they passed me just before the finish. And do you know what? That exchange was super inspiring, because I still crossed with a smile (that was replaced with exhaustion shortly after...). That’s what matters.

So no, I didn’t qualify for the World Championships. But I wasn’t there to. I was there to learn. To race myself. And I did. And I’m proud of that.

Races like The Gralloch serve a purpose. They’re direction checks. They’re feedback loops. They show you what’s working and what needs sharpening. They’re not the be-all and end-all, but they are tools.

And no, life’s not just about stats and PBs and podiums. But if you’re going to track your training, you might as well use the data. There’s value in it. There’s gold in the numbers. Not to define you, but to guide you.

So I’ll keep racing. I’ll keep learning. I’ll keep chasing the next adventure. Not because I have to. But because I get to.

And that’s why I ride.

AND THAT is what adventure is all about, to me.