Zegama Vertical Kilometer 2026
Skip to: Zegama VK format | Race Day | Zegama-Aizkorri VK Race
I’ve dreamt of doing a vertical kilometer race since exploring Limone VK route. Mughera is my favourite climb of all time. When I first climbed it in 2024 I couldn’t imagine being capable of racing it.
I don’t know why but January this year the feeling I wouldn’t be capable changed as I found myself searching for a vertical race and entered the Tenerife Vertical (750m) . At the same time I found the ballot entry dates for Zegama and applied for the VK and the marathon. I would love to run both and knew winning a place in either would be unlikely. The two races had different application dates and I can’t remember which was which but one was the day Jenn and I were driving back from Arc of Attrition. I had an alarm set and had Jenn apply for me the moment it opened whilst I was driving us back from Cornwall.
The draw date came along and I had won a bib for the VK! I got lucky first go!
The Tenerife Vertical was due to take place in March and would have been the perfect training race, frustratingly storm Therese had other ideas and the all the Tenerife blue trail events were canceled.
Dad was going to join me in Tenerife and was up for keeping me company in Zegama with the promise of a couple of days sunshine, beer and good food.
As the date got closer, the 10 day forecast made it clear the promise of sunshine and warm weather wasn’t going to come good. A forecast 6-10° each day and a lot of rain.
Landing in Bilbao on Thursday at midday, we jumped in a hire car and headed towards Alsasua where I had booked us a hotel, about 30min drive from Zegama. En-route we couldn’t help a detour as we saw Zegama signposted.
We stopped to find a small and very quiet town, there was no one around with the exception of kids arriving back from school. We found the square and the stand set up.
Zegama VK format.
Later we went back to scout out the VK and plan travel. The VK route GPX was 3km long starting in Arriaundi but you would actually set off from Zegama Square. The first 2km is neutralised and considered a warm up. We managed to drive the start of the timed section at Arriaundi and I realised I’d been stupid in imagining the first 2km might be flat...
Now I was a bit confused, I knew you had:
2km Zegama Square to Arriaundi (Warm up, 25 min to complete)
Arriaundi to Itzubiaga Hut (Chip time starts, 40 min to complete)
Itzubiaga Hut to Irule summit at 1500m (No specific time limit tmk).
The route between Zegama and Arriaundi will be understood to be neutralised and will serve as a warm-up for the participants. Each participant will have a maximum time of 25 minutes to get from Zegama Square to Arriaundi. In the event of leaving the starting point in Arriaundi before the maximum time, the actual time of departure will be taken into consideration.
Otherwise, if the participant takes the start after the maximum time, the time will be calculated from the moment at which he/she should have taken the start at the latest. Likewise, from Arriaundi to Itzubiaga each participant will have a maximum time of 40 minutes, and those who exceed this time will have their bibs withdrawn.
The part worrying me was how to run the first 2km with 200m elevation!; too fast and I might cook myself for the timed race, too slow and I would eat into time I could need to make Itzubiaga hut. On the day that didn’t matter!
Vertical Kilometer race day - Friday 15th May
I got an email on the morning of the race that the route has shortened due to the conditions.
The adjusted course would be timed from Zegama Square and finish at Itzubiaga Hut, approx 5km long and 760m elevation. I wouldn’t be reaching Irule and wouldn’t be completing a timed vertical kilometer but I was grateful for it to be going ahead!
It also solved the problem of how to run the warm up, since there wouldn’t be one. Now I knew how to run: As fast as I can, whilst not blowing up, from the start all the way to the finish.
If you know anything of Zegama you’ll know it’s a race with an amazing spirit thanks to the crowds. Thousands of people turn out to cheer the runners, in the square and on the mountain. I wasn’t sure if we’d be able to get in and out of the town, especially since the parking pass I was sent had not turned up in the post before we traveled and I heard police will close some roads.
Bibs could be collected between 1-4pm and unsure of access we planned for Dad to drop me and maybe for us to disappear for a couple of hours before dropping me back and that he may not be able to watch the start.
As it happened we lucked out! We found a parking space only a few minutes walk from the square. The police had only closed the road up to Arriaundi and not the town. The VK isn’t as popular as the marathon so whilst we may have got the last parking space in the town, it was still open to drive in.
Registration was well organised, quick and easy, the pack included a t-shirt and buff but the real prize was the bib. Since we had such a great spot we decided to wait it out between the square and the car for a few hours. We had planned ahead by shopping earlier so made sandwiches at the car boot - food is on my mind most days and especially race days.
The race would start at 4pm and sets off in groups 3 minutes apart. My time was 4:18pm.
About 3:40pm I joined the many other runners running loops around the block hoping to get my body ready to launch without instantly spiking my heart rate and gasping for breath. It would be silly to go from sedentary waiting around to a tempo run.
We headed to the starting area a few minutes before 4pm. The sun was briefly out while I watched from behind the stand as the first group set off.
Excitement was building, I no longer had any nerves, in fact they disappeared when I started warming up. I had been struggling with the uncertainty of logistics during Thursday afternoon and Friday morning and I started to relax from when we found the parking spot and registered.
The heavens opened a few minutes later, I was huddled under a gazebo with other runners waiting for my start. I was warm enough, in fact hot from the running since I had my windbreaker on but would take it off a few minutes before the start and tuck it into my belt. I was planning to start dressed for mile 2 in shorts and a vest despite the cold and heavy rain.
As runners were called forward for their group start officials checked their belts (I don’t recall seeing anyone in a vest). The mandatory kit was a container for drink, a windbreaker and a survival blanket. Perfect since you’d want the wind breaker to stay warm when running back down at a slower pace.
It was great to be able to start with just a belt. I had poles stowed, not wanting to be clumsy holding them and risk stabbing anyone during what I knew would be a quick start through the town.
Dad was at the sideline to cheer me and film the start and getting absolutely soaked.
Zegama-Aizkorri KB (Kilómetro Bertikala)!
We were called forward to the holding area behind the start stand. We were in the rain now and I was jumping about stay warm and be ready. I felt focused.
Each athlete was announced and called up to the start, a runner arrived next to me, and greeted me warmly, introduced himself as Albert we shook hands and wished each other a good race. I recognised him...
Count down from ten in Spanish or Euskara?. I should be able to tell you but I was overwhelmed I wasn’t even sure which numbers were which (poor on my part I know…) and relied on instinct.
Go! Around the town, across a road and up some cobbles, lots of families cheering and young kids with their hands out, I high fived a few as I kept running up hill at a pace I shouldn’t be.
The path turned to rocks and mud with a stream turned river flowing down from all the rain. Still speaktaters cheering super enthusiastically, lining the sides of the course.
“Andy,! Animal Andy!” was what it sounded like. I knew it wasn’t that, but it worked. I took it like: “go on Andy, you’re an animal” 😆 I’ve since figured it was “¡Ánimo!” (Now added to my vocab!).
My watch beeped for 1 mile, I recall it saying 9-something-min mile but I’m not sure it could have been. Around here I deceided to get my poles out and switched to hiking fast. Albert and another runner from my group were running (without poles) a little ahead and I used them as a marker to try and keep pace with. Aiming to reassure myself my energy hiking would match that running. I was just about holding their run, for a while.
Checkpoint - Arriaundi! Which is normally the start of the timed part, we’d just run the regular warm up, but as a race. There was a big crowd roaring - and cups of coke being offered. I grimaced attempting to smile and carried on, definitely should have downed some coke in hindsight!
I realised after passing that was the part you had 25min to do normally. I looked at my watch and it said 17min (I since checked results and I hit the timer at 15min). My lungs were burning I had been doing a mix of running hiking and just moving as quick as I could.
Supporters continued to line the course, cheering - giving you energy, keeping me going. A points I thought that I might not look like I was trying enough, I was, but it might not look like it. You really want to make the crowd proud. I kept reminding my self to look up, look ahead but the terrain also demanded a lot of focus.
My arms really ached! my stomach muscles spasms’d. I didn’t really think anything about my legs maybe they were just numb but my arms and core were stuggling most.
It was getting steeper still and it was less on your lungs and heart rate lowered as the elevation gained but body totally exhausted at fighting gravity. My body was telling me to pause, take a moment, my mind told me this is a one-off you need to keep moving, you don’t stop until you reach the end!
As we got deeper into the forest the paths were more like single track. Very muddy, very rooty, some parts with big rocks and very steep. Runners became single file for the most part. A few times a runner would overtake presumably on my heels for a while, then sometimes that same person would be blocking me moments later.
We were like lorries trying to overtake, fractionally faster or slower. Keeping your own pace was hard to get right.
It was difficult to pass one another for the trail and for energy. This is where the crowd was especially helpful, a couple of points I was on someone’s heels and the crowd would know it and their cheers gave the energy to pass them as you went for the “sprint overtake” the crowd would love it and cheer harder “Andyyy Ánimo Andy”. Sometimes screaming pretty much in your face, in a good way, a fantastic way, a genuinely championing you way.
The crowd gave so much of a boost it’s hard to describe.
A few times you’d have a gap in the crowd but you could always hear them ahead or behind. I kept thinking the crowd ahead must be the end.
I was loving the experience but I’m also begging for it to end. You just keep pushing because you owe it to the crowd and to yourself. There is no pausing no matter how much your head and body ask for it.
I got there, the final part of climb before Itzubiaga hut. I could see it UP! if if crooked my neck. The trail widens out but it’s steep! The steepest:slippyest combo of the course. Runners taking a miss-mash of lines, supporters cheering at the sides and taking photos. I felt like I might just slide back down the hill, climb and slide, and get stuck in a never ending loop. I didn’t. I had to literally dig my poles and my toes into the mud hard as I could to keep moving up and always on he verge of slip sliding back down.
The top. A turn to the right and a few meters of flat running to the timing strip. Relief! satisfaction! I look at my watch and stopped it: 49 minutes and something. I was happy with that! (Inside the 50min predicted in messages with my friend Paul earlier).
I saw Albert - and congratulated him, I told him I spent a while tying to pace from him but couldn’t keep up. I realised I recognised him from an instagram post he’d made about Zegama a few days earlier (my feed was full of only one thing in the build up).
Cups of coke were being handed out, I had a couple. I felt good my body felt fine the moment I reached the finish.
I paused for a minute or so then started to jog down (a longer shallower marked route of about 5miles). Albert did at the same time so we ran and chatted together for some of the descent. We talked about the crowds for the VK and how the marathon would be, a few places each of us had run and he told me the most beautiful race is Transvulcania in La Palma where he just got back from presenting. Another friend has told me the same since - consider it on the list!
I loved the run down, there was a great atmosphere. One of the supporters was on his way down too and occasionally playing his trumpet at the same time. My legs and body felt great like they had already forgotten what we had just been through.
I met Dad in the Square and we had a enjoyed a beer, absolutely buzzing from the experience.
If you want to know more and see more of the course in POV this is a great video: