Pete’s Arctic Ultra Ice Challenge

On the week of February 18th, Pete embarked on the challenge of a lifetime-the grueling Ice Ultra Marathon in the Arctic Circle. Braving extreme conditions with daytime temperatures plunging as low as -40°C, he pushed through 230km over five intense stages across frozen lakes, vast snowfields, and untouched wilderness.

But Pete wasn’t just running for himself—he was running for Brandon Centre. Through his incredible effort, he has raised over £3,000 for Brandon Centre, supporting our vital mental health services for young people. His dedication, resilience, and commitment to making a difference inspire us all.

Last week, he set off for Sweden, carrying everything he needed to survive the race-food, clothing, and essential gear—on his back. This self-sufficient ultramarathon, organized by Beyond the Ultimate, is one of the toughest endurance events in the world, testing both physical and mental strength.

We are beyond grateful for Pete’s determination and generosity. His achievement is nothing short of extraordinary.

Read about Pete’s experience in his own words below!

The Ice Ultra was not merely a race; it was an unyielding examination of my spirit, pushing me to the edge of my mental and physical limits. It cast me into an unforgiving wilderness, an otherworldly landscape of ice and solitude that demanded answers to questions I never knew existed.

Every step was a testament to the uncharted depths of human resilience. The terrain was hostile, and remote, a single lapse in concentration could end my life. It was not just about finishing the race; it was about survival. One wrong move out there meant more than disqualification. “Look after your kit, look after yourself, and look after each other,” were not just words they were lifelines.

The challenge was relentless and surreal, a place where the environment and loneliness conspired against me. Climbing the frigid mountains with temperatures plummeting to a mind-numbing -37 degrees, followed by the desolate stretches across frozen lakes, where the finish line teased me from 20 kilometers away, always visible yet annoyingly distant.

Exhaustion seared through my body, my legs screaming in agony, my mind in turmoil, urging me to quit. But overriding the endless pain and fatigue was my determination my “why.” This burning “why” drove me forward, forcing my legs to keep moving despite their protests.

Night fell, and with ten kilometers still ahead, I knew the journey to rest was far from over. Trudging through the darkness, every slow, painful step brought me closer to the base camp. When I arrived, it was a scene of eerie stillness, other runners asleep or tending to their gear. However, my work was not done. My mind raced with the essential tasks of rehydrating, replenishing energy, and meticulously preparing my equipment for the next day an unforgiving cycle that granted me a mere three to four hours of sleep.

Each stage was a marathon in itself, often starting and ending in darkness. Ten grueling hours of relentless trekking, where loss of focus meant not just failure, but a step closer to peril. A delayed action, an overexertion, or a moment of hesitation could shatter all the efforts I had poured into this endeavor.

This was not just a race; it was a narrative of sheer survival and the undying resolve of the human spirit. I discovered that my body and mind are capable of far more than I ever imagined. The Ice Ultra asked unanswerable questions and continuously tested the very essence of my endurance.