Ras Yr Wyddfa – Snowdon Fell Race 2025
There are few fell races as iconic as Ras Yr Wyddfa, Snowdon Fell Race. First held in 1976, created by Ken Jones and now under the stewardship of Stephen Edwards, this is a race that’s steeped in history and community spirit. This year marked its 48th running (two races missed due to COVID), celebrating 50 years since its creation, and its roll of honour includes some of the greatest names in fell running. The men’s record still stands from 1985, a staggering 1hr 02mins by Kenny Stuart, a performance that still feels superhuman today and probably will never get touched again. The women’s record is just as impressive, held by C Greenwood at 1hr 12mins, with Greenwood also claiming the fastest female ascent at 47min 07sec (1993). The fastest ever climb? 38min 10sec by R Bryson, set back in 1985. These are the benchmarks that generations of runners look up to, and most of us can only dream of touching.
This year’s race took place on Saturday, July 19th. Forecasts suggested respite from the recent heatwave, cooler temperatures, cloud cover, perhaps even a touch of rain. But Snowdon had other plans. As the start approached, clear skies and blazing sunshine greeted us. A blessing for the supporters who line the route, but a warning to the runners who know just how brutal the heat can be on this mountain.
My training had been solid if not spectacular compared to previous recent years. I’d have liked a few more 90–120 minute long runs in the bank, but I felt prepared. Even on a recent family holiday to Lanzarote, I couldn’t resist sneaking in a run up a local volcano, not Snowdon by any means, but good for the legs and lungs.
At 2pm, we were off. I’d got myself mid-pack, determined not to get caught up in the adrenaline of the front runners. The route is simple but savage: from Llanberis (107m), you climb through Rhes Fictoria (113m), Allt y Parc (174m), Giat Y Mynydd (239m), Hebron (312m), Caffi Hanner Ffordd (545m), Allt Moses (642m), Allt Goch (884m) and finally Y Copa – the summit (1,085m).
As soon as you cross the cattle grid, the mountain bares its teeth. The opening climb on tarmac kicks up to 20 degrees in places, no warm-up, no easing in, just straight to work. Dust kicked up by the runners ahead stuck in the eyes and throat, but the roar of spectators, cowbells ringing, and kids offering high fives encourage you on.
The path eases briefly, allowing for some steady running to Hebron, where the first water stop offered much needed relief. From here, it’s head down towards Allt Moses, where even the hardest fell runners concede to a power hike. Legs screaming, heart and lungs burning, yet somehow “coping.” It’s here, too, that the race turns into a spectacle as the international elite hurtling back down at full tilt, making the impossible look easy.
The final push to the summit is relentless. No false summits, no relief just one foot in front of the other until you finally reach Y Copa. No time to admire the view, though. A gel down my neck, switch the brain on, and it’s time to descend.
If the climb empties the tank, the descent demands absolute focus. The path is steep, rocky, and crowded with walkers. Arms out for balance, zig-zagging down, eyes scanning a few meters ahead, this is technical running at its best. I was thankful for the water station at Hebron before the final push.
And then comes the tarmac at Allt Y Parc – if you know, you know. It’s steep, punishing, and after the mountain paths, it feels alien. The road flattens into a long drag back to Llanberis, where it’s mind over pain. I pushed hard, legs shocked by the change in terrain, until I finally stumbled over the finish line. Marshals were ready with water, pouring it over us like we’d just survived a battlefield, and we had, it’s the same every year, and this was no different.
And the reward? A custom-made slate coaster, a small but fitting memento for a race of this stature, which was taken by my daughter once I got home.
Ras Yr Wyddfa is more than a race. It’s history, community, and atmosphere rolled into one. It takes something from you, your legs, your lungs, maybe a bit of your soul, but it gives you something in return. A connection to the mountain, to those who’ve raced before, and to the spirit of fell running itself.
Will I be back? Of course, it’s a race that excites me every time. It’s going to be a special race in it’s 50th racing year, I hope to be on the start line, and hopefully it will go beyond that, its a race you should experience at least once!
Well done for another fantastic race Stephen Edwards