Lakeland 50 - half the length, twice the pain

Having the UTMB lined up for the following month I decided to err on the side of caution and do the Lakeland 50 this year instead of the 100.  Thinking I'd cracked the secret of pain free endurance running in the Joss Naylor Lakeland Challenge three weeks previously was I in for a shock.

As usual I went up on the Thursday night and stayed in a youth hostel so that I got a early start and good camping spot on Friday morning.  I had booked a bed in the newly renovated Ambleside hostel but that was closed due to structural problems being found so they moved me to Coniston Coppermines hostel instead. I met Daniel Milton, a L100 competitor, there.  Surprisingly there were no other competitors staying.

Friday morning saw us pitch our tents not too far from the school on the road side of the field.  I'd decided not to bring the big tent but did bring the porch to erect over the back of the car so that I had a covered seating area, along with my North Face Westwind 2-man tent for sleeping in.

Home sweet home

Slowly but surely the field filled with cars, campers and tents.  Old friends and acquaintances turned up. Originally we had quite a few Goyt Valley Striders signed up for both the 100 and the 50 but this dwindled down to just three of us on race day, for a variety of reasons. There was Paul Hunt and Peter Davis doing the 100 and me on the 50. Other local (to Whaley Bridge) runners included Simon Moorhouse, Nick Ham (both 100) and Colin Wilshaw (50).   My ultra friend Jenn Gaskell was also competing but had to get her leg taped up due to a strain in her lower leg.

I had thought that watching the 100 start would be very strange having taken part in the previous 2 years but it felt like watching any other start.  I kept myself busy taking photographs.

A pensive Paul Hunt at the start

This promised to be an interesting 100 race with previous winners Terry Conway and Stuart Mills present.  I was also interested in what Charlie Sharpe would do.  I first came across Charlie in last October's Dusk 'til Dawn 50 miler where he waltzed round in the dark in a mere 8 h 57m.  Since then he'd been winning or getting podium places on a number of low profile (and some not so low) events, including beating teams as a solo runner, so it was going to be interesting to see what he'd do on this course.

Terry Coway (Course record holder)

Charlie Sharpe (New kid on the block)

Stuart Mills (Old man on the block (red bottles)) 

The story of these elite runners is interesting.  Stuart employed his usual run like hell and hang on strategy. This worked as, apart from the first control at Seathwaite where he was second, he took first place and kept it to the finish in 22 h 17m.  Terry went round in 3rd and 4th places but succumbed to illness and packed at Buttermere. Charlie employed a very different strategy to Stuart and started very conservatively with 27th place at Seathwaite and slowly moving up to 11th at Braithwaite.  By Blencathra he was in the top ten and gradually moved from 6th to 3rd between there and Tilberthwaite.  He picked off the 3rd runner on the run in to Coniston to gain an impressive 2nd place (he was a late entrant so hadn't recced as much as he might have) in 23h 02m.  Next year will prove to be interesting if they all return.

Back to us mere mortals, the 300 or so runners set off at the usual suicidal dash through Coniston.

Charge of the 100 Brigade

I then did my own dash up to the start of Walna Scar Road to catch them coming down from the Coppermines valley.  I managed to catch them all, except for Peter who slipped through without me spotting him.

Nick Ham

Paul Hunt (Hoka Shocka)

Simon Moorhouse

Jenn Gaskell

 I then watched them disappear up Walna Scar Road before heading back to base and a good night's sleep.

Disappearing into the sunset

Before getting some sleep I checked in on the progress of the 100 runners that I knew.  I noticed Paul was way down at Seathwaite and immediately knew something was wrong.  I texted him and received the reply that he'd gone over on his ankle at the top of Walna Scar Road and hobbled his way down to the checkpoint.  Fortunately, another runner who dropped out at Seathwaite was a doctor and diagnosed Paul's ankle as having torn ligaments.  It eventually swelled up to twice the normal size.  Somehow, after getting a lift back to Coniston he drove home during the night.

Of the remaining 100 runners, Jenn retired at Buttermere not wanting to worsen the damaged leg any further with the UTMB only a month away, Peter retired at Dalemain, Daniel retired at Kentmere and Simon retired at Ambleside. Nick made it back to Coniston in 33:37.  He also had the UTMB to tackle.

So, getting some sleep that Friday night, instead of tramping over Black Sail pass, didn't feel as strange as I thought it would and I managed to get a good night's sleep.  The morning went quickly enough and we were soon on the fleet of buses to Dalemain.  Colin and I managed to get an early bus so we had plenty of time to relax in the shade of a tree at Dalemain and cheer the 100 runners on their approach to the Dalemain checkpoint marquee.  It's then time for us to perform.

The new start time of 11:30 arrived and we were off. The initial 4 mile loop around the Dalemain estate was new to me. It was also very hot.  It consisted of a rolling trackless route through grassy fields which brought us out at Dacre castle then back along to Dalemain House along the 100 course.  You would have thought that I'd learnt my lesson back in 2011 during the Ridgeway Challenge run when I set off far too fast feeling cocky after my L100 success.  My legs were wrecked for the next 75 miles.  Back on the L50 I now did exactly the same feeling cocky after my relatively painless Joss Naylor Challenge.  (The fact that it was only three weeks previously wouldn't have helped either.)  I stormed through the first leg to Howtown covering the 10.2 hilly miles in a little over a hour and a half, passing Nick on the way down.

Approaching the Cockpit Stone Circle

I then paid the price for the next 40 miles.  The cramps started on the way up Fusedale. Actually, to be accurate, they started the week before as I was getting calf cramps in bed most nights in the previous week so something was afoot. Once up onto the top I managed to shuffle between the Kops.  Just before reaching the turning point where we dropped down to Haweswater I heard a runner coming up behind me.  I could tell it was a woman from the breathing noises but these were combined with a healthy dose of spitting like a trooper.  This turned out to be Rachel Ball from the ubiquitous Sunderland Strollers.  She eventually finished in an excellent 2nd lady position. She passed me tootling along like a Duracell Bunny and went chasing a group of three runners in front.  Problem was they'd missed the turning down to Haweswater. I initially thought they were being sticklers to the route and not chopping off the corner but they carried on heading off towards the Pennines.  I called them back, much to their relief.

I don't remember much about the run alongside Haweswater apart form feeling sorry for the hikers trying to come in the opposite direction.  One other memory was passing a young man who was wearing very minimal Inov8s who looked as if his feet were very sore (after less than 20 miles).  I later found out who he was.  He packed at Mardale.  He later attempted the UTMB CCC in only slightly less minimal shoes and packed after 30 miles.  I wonder if he's got the message yet.

Approaching the Mardale Checkpoint - photo Amanda Seims

The Delamere Spartans did a grand job of manning the checkpoint.  The portaloos also came in handy but no repeat of last year's stomach problems thankfully. The climb up Gatesgarth went OK.  I chose to leave the checkpoint with empty bottles and fill up at the stream near the top to save carrying it up the hill.  The cramps really kicked in on the way down.  I found that I could eventually get moving on the downhills and somehow break through the cramps.  It was on the uphills and slow technical sections that the cramps literally crippled me.

For once I managed to leave Kentmere in a reasonable time, after sampling their lovely smoothies and pasta. Colin arrived as I left.  I shuffled my cramped way up Garburn being passed all by a number of runners.  Fortunately I managed to breakthrough the cramp and get a decent move on down into Troutbeck.

I was reduced to a walk over to Ambleside until the down hill when I got going again.  It was like the Tour de France with the crowds leading into the new checkpoint (which I found cramped and hot so didn't hang around long).  On leaving the checkpoint the heavens opened.  I sheltered under a tree while I put my jacket on.  The cramps were attacking me all along the next section. Every muscle below my knees was in spasm.  

I managed a jog along the riverside to Elterwater where I suffered the ignominy of being passed up the hill to the quarry by a couple of 100 milers (who I'd just passed). I managed to run into the checkpoint with them, passing the cheering drinkers outside the Wainwrights Inn in Chapel Stile. This checkpoint keeps moving further along the route each year.  At it's current rate it'll be in Consiston by 2019.  I don't want to complain but I found the Heinz big soup a poor substitute for the lovely thick stews served up in 2011. 

The cramps were now reducing me to a very painful walk. The rocky section after Blea Tarn proved very difficult.  I couldn't control my feet as the cramps were making them point downwards and in random directions.  Not ideal when careful foot placement is required.  I do remember be able to run the road section into Tilberthwaite.  I was quickly in and out of this checkpoint as I believed that a sub-12 hour time was still just about on the cards.  

This was were my wheels well and truly came off. As I climbed out of Tilberthwaite I began to feel weaker and weaker.  I somehow made it over the rocks and onto the flatter section where I had to stop and rest my head on my poles feeling extremely weak and sick.  I came round a bit but the next couple of miles was pure misery.  People came streaming past me (19 in all) as I trudged to the col above Coniston Coppermines. I felt a bit better by this point but then I tried to descend.  

As I began to drop down towards Coniston the pain from the cramps brought me to a stop.  I couldn't move forward.  I tried walking backwards but the ground wasn't suitable for that.  I'm not sure how I got down but I eventually made it to the more runnable ground and managed to get going again.  I ran the rest of the way to the finish arriving at 3 minutes to midnight in a time of 12 hours 24 minutes 117th out of 583 starters and 482 finishers.  At least I managed to finish in the same day that I set off. Colin turned up some 20 minutes later.

Checkpoint	Time of Day	Elapsed	Leg	Position
Pre Start Dalemain	Sat 11:26:37	-----	-----
Start	Sat 11:32:45	-----	-----
CP9 Howtown Bobbin Mill	Sat 13:11:15	01:38:30	01:38:30	53rd (583)
CP10 Mardale Head	Sat 15:37:39	04:04:54	02:26:24	83rd (578)
CP11 Kentmere Village Hall	Sat 17:24:22	05:51:37	01:46:43	96th (550)
CP12 Ambleside	Sat 19:25:43	07:52:58	02:01:21	101st (530)
CP13 Langdale	Sat 20:45:54	09:13:09	01:20:11	96th (495)
CP14 Tilberthwaite	Sat 22:37:19	11:04:34	01:51:25	98th (487)
Coniston Finish	Sat 23:57:26	12:24:41	01:20:07	117th (482)

Overall, in the circumstances I'm pretty pleased with that result.  Still inside the upper quartile. It could have been a whole lot worse if I hadn't been able to get some decent downhill runs in.  I learnt my lesson though.  I would not be setting off quickly in the UTMB.

A Grand Day Out - Joss Naylor Lakeland Challenge

Long distance running is essentially a lonely sport, especially so when you live 160 miles from where your running club is based.  This is its nature and is usually perfectly fine.  Occasionally however you do need to rely on others to support you in a particularly challenging run.  This was the case with my attempt at the Joss Naylor Lakeland Challenge.

To quote the website:
"Increasingly regarded as an old man’s Bob Graham, this route has become the benchmark challenge for the mature runner. It was inaugurated by Joss Naylor in 1990 as a fund-raising challenge to the over 50’s. In addition to completing the route, successful contenders must raise at least £100 for a charity of their choice. Joss’s challenge involves climbing 30 tops, crossing some 48 miles of mountain terrain and ascending nearly 17000 feet. The route starts in Pooley Bridge, Ullswater and finishes at Greendale Bridge, Wasdale. Each age group has a specific time limit varying between 12 and 24 hours with different times for men and women.  There is no emphasis on record times and pacers are mandatory for safety reasons."

I'd agreed to have an attempt with my usual mountain marathon partner Dave Stephenson.  My plan to do an ultra marathon a month leading up to the UTMB meant that this should have been my June ultra but as fate would have it we couldn't find a mutually convenient date in June so settled on Saturday the 6th July.  This was very fortunate as I had my 55th birthday on 28th June.   This meant that I was in a higher age category for the event and was allowed an extra 3 hours to complete, giving me a total of 15 hours.  Those 3 hours came in very handy.

So, with a date settled we could put out the word asking for support runners.  Dave called on his club, Bingley Harriers and I on mine Goyt Valley Striders and soon had sufficient numbers to see us through the day.  My band of happy GVS volunteers was Steve Hennesey, Al Fitzgerald, Mark Whelan and, after some last minute rearrangements, Paul Hunt.  During the remaining weeks until J-Day various recces were made.  Steve and Mark checked out leg 4, I went up to the Lakes for a few days but only managed to do the Rossett Pike to Bow Fell traverse and the descent off Great End due to having a lame dog to see to, and Steve went up again to check out leg 2.  This last one was under the pretext of giving GVS ladies Phil Smith and Sarah Bull some navigation training and exposure to the Lakes prior to their Coast to Coast run. They were suitably impressed.

With 17,000 ft of ascent I knew this was really going to be a challenge for me.

JNLC Profile - all 17,000 feet of it

As much as I love the hills they don't love me in so far as I'm hopeless at getting up them at any sort of speed.  I can predict my rough position in a fell race by how much ascent there is in it. It's a power/weight ratio thing.  I have been working on increasing one and reducing the other but there's still work to do. Just to set the expectations of my support runners I sent them an email outlining this.  It left them wondering why I was even trying if I couldn't get up the hills! Good job I didn't tell them about my dodgy knee and high blood pressure.

So, it was soon time to drive up to the Lakes and set up camp on Friday 5th July.  We'd decided to set up base camp in the Park Foot campsite.  I arrived first and set up my big 8-person tent and was busy preparing my drinks for the next day when Aly Raw of Bingley Harriers (along with Stan the world's quietest dog) turned up in her campervan which she parked by the tent for the weekend.  Dave and two more Bingley runners Phil Knight and Brendon Georgeson turned up later.  Phil was being 'loaned' to me to support on Leg 1 as he had recce'd it with Dave.

Looking at various blogs and forums the general consensus about the first mile or so of the route seems to be that cutting up through Park Foot is the way to go.  I'd originally decided, thinking that the start was in the middle of the village, that the better route would be to follow the Lakeland 100 route through Pooley Bridge then up the road out onto the moor.   When I realised that the start was actually on the bridge it looked that the Park Foot route was slightly shorter so decided to take that.  However, after checking out the route through and out of the campsite I reverted to my original plan.  The road route maybe a hundred yards or so longer but it is far simpler with only one gate and a consistent and smooth gradient, much more suited to my running style.

Leg 1 - Pooley Bridge to Kirkstone Pass (14 miles)
My support on this leg was Phil and Paul.  Waking up at 4:00 I took advantage of the camp showers, taped up my left hip which had been giving me some pain after a couple of hours on recent runs and dressed for the day.  I wore a lightweight white t-shirt, Salomon twin-skin shorts, smartwool socks, calf compressions, Inov8 debris gaiters and my Salomon Speedcross 3 shoes.

Paul set off straight up towards Arthurs Pike as Phil and I trotted down to Pooley Bridge at 5:30.  The weather was already warm and humid.  Wisps of cloud were floating over Ullswater as we waited for 6:00 on the bridge.

Chilling on Pooley Bridge bridge

The time arrived and we set off up the road.  This section before the moors is the only section which offers any shade but it was still worryingly warm and humid in the shade.  We were soon out onto the moors above Park Foot and, after a brief interlude to make a deposit in the bracken, up onto Arthurs Pike in a steady 41 minutes.  Up onto Loadpot Hill where we picked up Paul the running was much easier than when Dave and I were up here in April on the Nav4 Lakeland Mountain 40. Then it was covered in deep snow.

The rest of this ridge to High Street was fairly straight forward and there was also a very welcome cool breeze.The view from Kidsty Pike over to wards Mardale Head was brief but spectacular. I'd be down there in three weeks time on the Lakeland 50.  Apart from a solitary hiker near High Street we had the fells to ourselves at this early hour.

Thornthwaite Beacon with it's massive stone tower was next. Through the gap in the wall Phil and I turned right to follow the wall rather than take the more obvious path down which Paul opted to go.  This had been kindly recced the day before by Aly.  The grassy descent by the wall was clearly faster as Paul was a few minutes behind us as we started the ascent up to Stoney Cove Pike.  We followed the wall after the Stoney Cove Pike summit cairn but I was beginning to think it couldn't be the right way as there was no sign of a track when Paul arrived and called us back to the right wall.  It was then a simple case of following it until I could see Pike Howe when I cut across.  Coming down off Pike Howe there were three people waving at us.  I first thought it was my team but soon recognised Andy Nicoll, Steve Fry and another Bingley supporter who I didn't know.  It was Dave's team out looking for him.   From here, rather than follow the path over St Raven's Edge we cut round the back of it and dropped diagonally down to a gate on the pass road where Mark and Al were waiting.  Into the car park where Steve was waiting to take over on the next leg  I was 15 minutes up on the 14:40 schedule.
 
Leg 2 - Kirkstone Pass to Dunmail Raise (8 miles)

So which direction is Mecca from Kirkstone Pass?

After a quick Muller Rice and a mini pepparami (more on this later) Steve and I set off up Red Screes.  This was new territory for me. The steep climb to the top went well and then headed for a wall which we couldn't see for the mist on the top.  Once we reached the wall it was a nice grassy descent down to Scandale Pass with views down to Patterdale and Windermere. A steady climb up past Little Hart Crag and up onto Dove Crag (which I don't understand why it's not on the summit list as it's on route and is more of a summit than some of those on the High Street ridge).

We reached Hart Crag and had just come down off the cairn to log the time when a Bingley clad runner appeared.  This was John Parkin, closely followed by Andy Nicoll.  Dave then came straight over the cairn and onwards totally oblivious to my shouts of abuse about him catching me so soon.  This was Dave in the zone.  His world consists of the three yards in front of him.

Back in 2010 he did this on the 3 Peaks Race when he came alongside me going up Whernside.  I had to tap him on the shoulder to get his attention on that occasion. (Five minutes after that I was laid out waiting for a rescue helicopter having tripped, while trying to chase down Dave, and smashed my face on a rock resulting in a triple fracture of my cheekbone.)

Back to the Joss.  A hundred yards after Hart Crag we were following Dave and co up some rocks when he looked back and finally realised it was us.  That was pretty much the last we saw of him apart from three dots groping their way up Seat Sandall as we were coming off Fairfield.  He went on to finish in a brilliant 11:39, one minute inside his schedule.

Fairfield was looking very different from my previous two visits which were both in howling storms at some ungodly hour in the morning supporting Bob Graham attempts.  The summit cairn on those occasions was extremely difficult to find unlike now when it was surrounded by a ring of resting hikers in the bright sunshine. I kept going here while Steve jotted down the time, as I intuitively knew the way off but Steve called me back and got his compass out which duly pointed us about half a degree off my original direction.  Better safe than sorry.  The descent was also a pleasant surprise as I had vivid memories of sliding my way down this in my headtorch beam but now it was easy to choose the best route down.  The Bingley boys up on Seat Sandall looked like they were hardly moving.

This was the third time I'd been alongside Grisedale Tarn in less than three months.  Dave and I had been past it both in the Lakeland Mountain 40 in April and the Old County Tops in May. It was looking glorious now.  Seat Sandall was a steady steep drag but we were soon up on the top and heading down to Dunmail. I was still feeling good.  Steve had been plying me with water and food along the way.

About a week before the attempt I received a phone call from Monica Shone, the recently retired JNLC secretary.  She was checking up on our details as she couldn't get hold of her replacement Ian Charters.  After bring her up to date on our times she said she'd be at Dunmail Raise around 11:00 to see us through.  At the time I was clearly deluded as I thought we might have gone through long before that.  As it turned out it was gone 11:30 as we came off Seat Sandall.  As promised Monica and her husband were there to greet us.  Apparently while waiting she'd got the name, rank and serial number (so to speak) off all of the supporters, maybe looking for the next batch of JNLC attempters.  She'd have to wait a while for some of them to reach 50.

At Dunmail I changed into a clean shirt and had the strange experience of having two blokes (who shall remain nameless but it wasn't Steve or Paul) fighting over who was going to tape up my nipples as they had started bleeding.  That's what I call service but they could have shaved the hair off first.

Leg 3 - Dunmail Raise to Sty Head (11 miles)
This leg is perhaps the hardest of the four with the steep ascent to Steel Fell then the long trudge to Rossett Pike via High Raise and the ascent up Bowfell and descent off Great End.  Al was to support me on this leg and I did feel for him as he had all my kit and 3 litres of drink as well as his own stuff.  He'd come out of semi-retirement from running as he is concentrating on swimming these days. Neither of us had recced this section up to High Raise so we relied on my GPS for this bit.

So we set off up the very steep climb onto the Steel Fell ridge.  I had hoped to do a diagonal ascent but that was impractical due to the bracken so it was straight up for us.  This was hot but we kept a steady pace as Al informed me that he had arranged for four naked Swedish masseuse to be waiting at Sty Head as well as a keg of real ale. As I suspected they weren't there when I finally arrived so he owes me one, well at least a beer (compared to the several I owe him for his help).
  
One of my most vivid memories of the whole day was the views from Steel Fell.  Located as it is in the middle of the Lake District and with no other nearby hills to block the view there is a 360 degree feast of Lakeland panoramas, especially on a day like we had.  Unfortunately we didn't have time to stop and take it all in but I'll be back.

The next section to High Raise was a mixture of tracks and grassy meadow as we contoured round Calf Crag before taking the climb up Birks Gill.  Al had made sure that I was fully hydrated by regularly handing me a bottle and refusing to take it back until I'd finished it. He also pointed out the spot where clubmate Mark Richards' stomach had rebelled on his successful 50 @ 50 attempt.  Between the top of Birks Gill and the High Raise summit the terrain is a gentle slope but not runnable due to tussocks.  In retrospect it might have been worth checking out the alternative and only slightly less direct route up Deep Slack.  There seemed to be a decent path in that direction towards Sergeant Man.

Over High Raise we ran down to and over the Stake Pass path picking up the path Dave and I had followed for a while in the Old County Tops towards Rossett Pike.  My route took us over the rocky rise on Rossett Crag.  With hindsight we should have contoured north of this before ascending Rosset Pike.  From the Pike we had a cracking view of the route up Bow Fell, a double dogleg onto a rising terrace.

I'd recced the rest of this leg with my dog (who then suffered from sore pads after all the rock work) a few weeks before.  It had been low cloud then but we had full visibility now.  It always amazes me how routes seem shorter when you're familiar with them.  This was no exception as we made our way to the top and picked up the path three quarters of the way up.  I really must follow that path back down sometime to see where it starts.

Bow Fell summit was like Piccadilly Circus, covered in hikers.  Some pre-teenage youths found my attire most amusing.  "Do you think he a fell runner?" one of them asked.  Bright lad.

The rest of the ridge over Esk Pike and onto Great End went fairly well.  I was amazed that I was still feeling fairly fresh considering what I'd just done.  The anticipated bone tiredness and empty legs didn't appear.  I even ran some of the path up Great End.  I later learned from Dave that there is a nice grassy alternative to the left of the rocky path off Bow Fell.

The descent off the north side of Great End was as expected, rocky, screey, and steep.  We even had to do some rock climbing (which thankfully I'd not had to do with the dog).  Three quarters of the way down we found Paul who had come up to meet us.  He guided us down the final section and we were soon at Sty Head where Mark and Steve (ready for his second leg) were waiting.

Al approaching Sty Head (Paul and me in the background)

Paul and me at Sty Head (I'm still running!)

 Mark had laid out the contents of my Leg 4 goody bag along the top of the Sty Head stretcher box (behind which Dave and I had sheltered for some respite from the hurricane that was blowing in the infamous 2008 OMM) so I selected a couple of items to eat as I passed straight through and onto the climb up Great Gable.  I was bang on schedule at this point.

Leg 4 - Sty Head to Greendale Bridge ( 13 miles)
The pattern for the rest of the run was set going up here.  Steve would lead the way so I had someone to focus on and Mark would trail behind me giving me encouraging words (and food and drink) and letting me know how much ascent was left as we reached the tops.

Start of climb up Great Gable

I had been dreading this climb up Great Gable, fearing I would be shattered by then and that it would be slippery and covered in scree.  Neither of those happened.  I still had energy in my legs and the path was paved in untypically even and correctly spaced steps.  I got into a steady rhythm and made the top without too much effort.

Over the top of Great Gable looking down into Ennerdale and over to Crummock Water

Steve and Mark then quickly found the right path down, unlike during their recce when they used a horrid route down the scree.  Kirk Fell came and went (we didn't use the red gully) as did Pillar with me running a fair chunk of the less rocky sections.

Heading to Kirk Fell over Kirk Fell Tarn

Approaching Pillar (Great Gable in the background)

 Mark very quickly sussed when I'd want my poles and had them ready for me right on cue on all the ascents.

Steve leading the way off Pillar to Wind Gap (Photo Mark Whelan)

Up on Scoat Fell Steve waited while Mark and I nipped up and down Steeple.  This was the only point throughout the day I could feel my energy levels start to dip so I took an energy drink and some food, including my second mini peparami (which actually tasted quite good) much to Steve and Mark's amusement (amazement?).  Haycock was uneventful but I think I'd have preferred the grassy, but albeit longer, descent than the rocky one we took but the lads stuck to the route they knew which was wise in the circumstances.  Time was getting tight.

As we came alongside the wonderfully named Pots of Ashness I looked at my watch then looked at the massive upturned boat that is Seatallan and, thought for the first time that I was going to run out of time.  I had 1:05 to get inside 15 hours and, looking at the relentless slope up to the summit, thought it would take me half an hour to get up there. (It's actually just under 200 metres to the summit from the Pots but looks bigger at the end of a long day.) So I started plugging away at the grassy path up this beast staring at the next few steps seemingly in front of my face and occasionally looking up hoping in vain to see Steve disappear over the top.  Mark was behind giving me the run down on how far the summit was.  100 metres became 70 and Steve finally disappeared, the top flattened out and I was up in a surprising 15 minutes.  Hope came rushing back as Steve handed my a final bottle and a few jelly babies and I dashed off down the side towards Middle Fell, which looked a damn sight tamer than Seatallan had done.  It was on the way down Seatallan that I realised that the bottle Steve had given me wasn't mine.  He had donated his last bottle to me.

As we approached the summit Paul was there once again to meet us and guide us down.  I had plenty of time but got frustrated with myself as I struggled to keep up with Paul and Steve when I'd normally be shooting down such a runnable slope.  Joss' house, Low Greendale, came into view and we were soon approaching the bridge to be clapped in by Joss and Mary Naylor and their friend, mountain guide and JNLC dinner organiser, David Powell-Thompson, 14 hours and 49 minutes after setting off.  (Thanks for waiting David, I know your wife had put your dinner in the dog due to my slow pace.) What a cracking day! What a team!

The icing on the cake, a handshake from the great man.

Planned and Actual Times



Leg 5 Greendale Bridge to Pooley Bridge (by car).
As some of you will know I already know Joss and Mary from selling copies of my painting of Joss for charity, with certificates of authenticity signed by Joss (see www.mickwren.com).  Joss bought the original painting the last time I'd seen him so Mary kindly invited us in to see it on the wall.  It was looking good up there (but I am biased).

Me and Paul in the Naylor Art Gallery.

It was now past 9 in the evening and we had to get back to Pooley Bridge so we made our leave and set off back, calling in to Keswick where Paul treated me to fish and chips.  I don't normally eat these due to having high cholesterol but they went down very well. It was well past 10 by the time we got back to the campsite so we decided to put our celebrations on hold and the team quite rightly all went home to their beds which were only 2 hours away.  I enjoyed a nice hot shower and met Dave and Aly walking Stan the dog as I returned to the tent.  Dave, who finished 2 hours ahead of me, had been to the pub in Pooley Bridge with his team who also had decided to head home.

Postscript - DOMS? What DOMS?
So, despite my worries about not being able to manage the hills I'd managed them with surprising ease, if not speed. At 17,000ft of ascent over something like 46 miles the ascent/mile ratio is higher than the UTMB so I'm very happy with my performance.

After something like this I typically have a very bad case of DOMS (Delayed Onset of Muscle Soreness) a day or two later.  Going up or down stairs with DOMS is agony but apart from slightly sore muscles I had no problems at all.  Instead of screaming in agony I was able to run up the stairs.  Amazing. Apart from wearing a pair of full length compression stockings the first night I did nothing to try and alleviate the onset of DOMS.

The whole day was a revelation to me in terms of keeping energy levels high and later not suffering from DOMS.  I put this down largely to the level of hydration I sustained.  I have never taken on so much fluid, largely I think due to having to carry the weight, but it certainly appears to have made a great difference in minimising the muscle damage.  I will be making major differences to my fluid intake on future events.  I might give the peparamis a miss though as my support were so impressed with my managing to eat two that they now call me the Peparami Kid (but not for too long I hope).

One condition of this challenge is to raise £100 for your charity of your choice.  I chose the North West Air Ambulance who'd rescued me from the 3 Peak Race.  At the time of writing I've raised over £200 pounds (including Gift Aid).  See http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/MickWren.  Thanks to all of my sponsors.

Dave and I can now look forward to the JNLC Annual dinner in October to receive our tankards.

Lakeland 100 Revisited

When the Lakeland 100 course conspires with the weather it will find any chink in your armour and rip a dirty great big hole in it.

I thought my main chink was the sprained ankle that I suffered on the recce a month earlier which was still hanging around. It turned out to be the grumbly digestive system which I've had for a few weeks now.

After last year's delay at Kentmere which I estimated cost me a couple of hours I fancied my chances of getting inside 32 hours at least.  Once again my clubmates Paul H and Peter D were taking part as was Will M who upgraded from last year's Lakeland 50.  Both Paul and Peter were hoping for a sub 30 finish time. Paul had a 32 hours under his belt from last year but Peter had DNF'd due to stomach problems.  Also running were Tom H and Brian L from Tring (where I live).  Tom also had a score to settle having DNF'd last year. Another DNF returnee was Steve K who we'd met and ran with on most of last year's recces.

My training had gone really well up until spraining my ankle on the last recce weekend in June.  This prevented me from topping off my training with some decent mileage.

The weather forecast for the event was cool temperatures (15-16 deg centigrade) and showers which looked like pretty good good running conditions but the Lake District weather is unpreditable if it's anything.

I drove up to Coniston on the Thursday and stayed at Coniston Holly How youth hostel.  My room was full of others doing the race including the aforementioned Steve K and Brian L.  On Friday morning it was down to the school to pitch the tent and register (plus a trip back to the youth hostel to get my food which I'd left in the self catering kitchen. Duh!).  I weighed in at a couple of kilos less than last year and was given the race number 267.

There was no Joss Naylor this year to give us our pep speech which as a shame as I'd hope to have a word with him about doing some prints of a painting of him which I've just finished, and selling them for charity.  The idea being to get him to sign them. I'll have to contact him some other way.

Joss Naylor, Wasdale, 1970s - Artist: Mick Wren

Anyway,  as the start time approached the weather improved (that is if you're a tourist and not about to run up Walna Scar Road!).  It must have been over 20 degrees.

So, 5:30 arrived and off we went.  Up front it was going to be very interesting as the winners from the previous two years (Stuart Mills and Terry Conway respectively) were there as was the highly placed Paul Tierney  and a few others I wasn't familiar with.

Photo: Susan Graham (Me in blue on left and Tom in blue on right)

The usual dash ensued until we hit the Miners Track then it was out with the poles and walk up the hill.

Me and my poles (Paul on right).

The first leg went pretty much to plan.  I passed loads on the downhill section to the bottom of Walna Scar Road. I managed to keep most of those behind me on the climb up (thanks to the poles) and passed a few more on the way down to checkpoint 1 at Seathwaite.  It was here that I had make my first call to the loos.  It was all downhill from then (so to speak).  Leg 2 went well.  After the usual trudge through the bogs round Harter Fell I comfortably ran the rest of the leg passing a few more runners on the way. However, I still lost some 30 places due to my pit-stop at Seathwaite.  The Boot checkpoint was the same as last year.  The helpers were inundated with a flood of runners in a rush to get on in this early stage.

So, it was then the steady incline to Burnmoor Tarn and a drop down into Wasdale where I caught up Peter who was complaining of blisters on his heel bottoms.  On the road stretch before Wasdale Head I was just thinking that we'd get into the checkpoint and Paul would do his usual trick of appearing, whizzing through the checkpoint and disappearing, when who should come up behind us but Paul.  We jogged into the checkpoint where Paul whizzed through and disappeared (never to be seen again).  He was a man on a mission.  I donated my large Compeeds to Peter for his heels.  Ironically this year I'd gone through my first aid kit and cut it down to size so I had no spares but hardly ever suffer from blisters so it wasn't a problem.  Will also turned up at this point and took off after Paul but didn't manage to catch him.  At this point I reckon I was about ten minutes up on last year's time but it was still time for the head torch (Petzl Myo RXP).  I left Peter to put his shoes back on knowing he'd catch me on the up hills. A steady jog along Mosedale and up onto Black Sail pass followed, all the while looking for a reasonable hiding place for the loo (it's even harder to hide at night when everyone has a head torch and you're covered in reflective gear!).  In the end I held out until Buttermere checkpoint.  Having snapped my poles while descending Black Sail pass last year I made sure they were safely stashed away this year.

I was glad to get the descent off Scarth Gap out of the way.  The showers started on this stage some very heavy but not lasting too long so it was difficult to know whether to bother with the jacket.  This was reflected in the variety of body cover in use at any point in time.  There were people in shorts and t-shirts alongside people wearing full body waterproofs.  That set the pattern for the rest of the event.  I had to get the cag out on this stretch as the rain brought the temperature down.  I also had one of several falls going down here.  Running along a grassy trod on a bank parallel to the rocky path I tripped on a rock and went arse over tit down the bank.  Thankfully I missed the rocks but did get cramp in both calfs which I soon stretched out.

As it turned out Peter didn't catch me up on the hills but, looking at the results he passed through Buttermere as I was inspecting the state of their plumbing.  I'd decided to walk the first part of this stage, to the top of Sail Pass anyway to give myself a rest.  While doing this someone behind asked if I was Mick Wren (the race numbers had our first names printed on them).  I'd apparently given him some advice on the Lakeland 100 facebook page regarding poles and he was very grateful for it.  This was the first of many instances of people recognising me for one reason or another to the point where I began to feel a bit like a celebrity.  Must practice my autograph.

Going up the steep section to Sail Pass I had a very weird experience.  On a previous recce in 2011 I'd sailed (forgive the pun) up here using my then new poles.  However, on the actual 2011 event I really struggled which I'd put down to not have the use of my freshly snapped poles.  This year I found it extremely hard even with poles.  About three quarters of the way up I started to keep losing my balance and falling (fortunately to the left and not down the hill to my right).  It was just like trying to stand up when totally pissed.  This had me very worried.  Eventually, as I approached the top of the pass my left ear popped and my balance improved (although I still felt drained).  I can only assume that the air pressure in my ear was affecting the balance mechanism in that ear.

I chucked down a small bag of oat and fruit biscuits at the top and proceeded to descend the very steep path towards Barrow Door.  About 20 minutes before this my head torch had flashed telling me that the batteries were on their way out and now the light was really dimming so I waited for some other to catch me up so that I could piggyback their light.  I had spares batteries but didn't particularly want to change them in the open.  That was another attempted weight saving I'd made this year.  I normally carry a spare head torch (a very small and light Petzl Zipka) as well as spare batteries but I put that in my drop bag this year.  I'll not be doing that again as I felt very vulnerable without that spare.  I only had to drop one of my spare batteries and I'd have been stuffed.

Braithwaite checkpoint eventually arrived and I entered to find Peter in there (not thinking at the time that I hadn't seen him pass me).  After another plumbing inspection and a change of batteries we left together.  Two minutes later it was raining stair rods as we jogged along the road to Keswick.  I paid my respects to my ancestors as we passed Crossthwaite graveyard then it was up onto Spooney Green Lane.

Back in the checkpoint I'd put some boiling water into a chicken tikka freeze dried meal (from Expedition Foods) that I'd been carrying with me and left it to rehydrate in my rucksack planning to eat it going up the lane.  I've used these food several times before on the overnight camps of mountain marathons and they've been great but there must be something about taste buds while on the move.  The chicken tikka was far too spicey and the the texture felt wrong so I just couldn't eat it.  This had happened previously when I tried the same thing during the Bullock Smithy challenge.  So, I've given up on the idea of having a 'proper' meal while on the move.

While travelling up the Glenderaterra valley I noticed it was getting light which shocked me as last year I was approaching Dockray at this time of day.  Those toilet stops and the bad patch over Sail Pass had cost me dearly. We eventually found the new unmanned checkpoint (on the second sheepfold after searching for it on the first one) then walk/jogged to the Blencathra checkpoint but not before I had to make an emergency stop behind a wall to inspect the bracken.  There were no free socks this year at Blencathra but at least it was indoors this time.

By now we were well aware that any chance of a decent time had long gone so we mentally dropped into 'just finish' mode.  It's interesting how this affects the performance.  We walked where we probably would have run if going for a time and, being effectively a team of two, we ran at the speed of the slowest runner at the time.  This had the cumulative effect of our time slipping more and more.  We souped up at Dockray and plodded on to Dalemain arriving at 10:40 to find Will who had retired (along with some 30 others I believe).

I claimed squatters rights in one of the portaloos while Peter had his feet strapped up by the medic. We then refueled on the wonderful soup/stew and cake and custard served by marvellous checkpoint staff, and had a change of clothing.  The spare poles I'd brought along stayed in the drop bag.  In the end we were there for at least an hour but eventually set off walking across the field.  My plans to minimise checkpoint time had long since bitten the dust.

After a jog along the river we entered Pooley Bridge where I popped into the public conveniences (convenient being a very apt word in my case) to see how their plumbing compared to elsewhere in the Lakes. I can report it was adequate.

On the climb out of Pooley Bridge I received my second shock of the day.  We were walking and this guy came sprinting past.  "He's keen" I thought then another ran past then another.  It dawned on me that they were the L50 lead runners. Last year I'd been at Sadgill when the first L50 came past.  This was depressing. The fourth L50 runner was my mate Kieran Davis with whom I'd done the Old County Tops back in May. Ian Corless (of Talk Ultra fame) who I'd spent a few hours with on the last recce soon passed as well.  It was then time for another photo-shoot.

Nice colour scheme (Peter in red)

With hindsight I'm not sure that fluorescent yellow was the best choice of colour for my new role as chief  bracken inspector.  Marc (event organiser) had asked us during the pre-race briefing not to smile for the photographers as they wanted to show how hard and tough the event was but he shouldn't produce such a happy event so we ignored him.

Peter had come up with a cunning plan at this point.  We were going to let the first 20 L50 runners go then tag onto the back of the next one.  Like most cunning plans this one melted in the heat of execution as we watched a good 50 runners go by.  Eventually though I saw one I wanted to follow and tagged on in tow at what felt like a cracking pace (it was downhill).  The fact that it was a very nice looking young woman in short lycra shorts was pure coincidence I can assure you.  This very pleasurable stretch came to an end after about a quarter mile when I noticed that Peter hadn't followed.  I guess my backside doesn't have the same motivating effect.  So, normal service was resumed and we trotted down towards Howtown.

On the last official recce weekend in June I'd met up with two guys in Windermere youth hostel who were also doing the recce, workmates Mikey and Dom.  They were on the L50 and came past Peter and I just before Howtown.  Dom was still suffering from an ankle sprain and was considering his options when they got to Howtown.  As it turned out they both continued and when Mikey got to Ambleside he found out that Dom was still going and waited half and hour for him to make sure he finished.  That just about sums up the spirit in this event.

Last year the Howtown checkpoint was centred inside the building but this year they'd decided to put most of it outside (probably to cope better with the numbers) but after dibbing in I went inside and Peter lost track of  me.  He caught sight of someone leaving wearing a fluorescent yellow top and chased after them.  While he was doing this I was came out to look for him and couldn't find him.  He realised it wasn't me when he noticed the rucksack colour and came back.  I would have popped into the loo here but there was a queue so off we went.

I really suffered here last year in the heat.  This year the heat was much better but being amongst the L50 entrants I was forever acquiring a trail of people behind me.  This pressurised me into going a little faster than I'd have liked to until I had to pull over and let them past.  In the meantime Peter was obviously feeling stronger and took off for the top where he waited for me.

Running as a pair is much slower than solo running.  We each had sections where we felt better than the other and had to wait.  Next time (if there is one) if there's chance of a good time then I'll have to run my own race.

Anyway,  we made our way across the Kops and down to Haweswater, hacking through the bracken at the bottom rather than climb down the rocks.  Along the bottom track I had to find a water source as the drink in my bladder tasted very strange.  I'm not sure what it was but I didn't trust it so had to refill my bottle.  Having done so I then climbed up into the bracken for another 'inspection'.  The noise from the stream hid any noises I might (did) have made.  I then caught up Peter and chugged round to the Mardale checkpoint.  It was getting colder, wetter and windier by now so we put an extra top layer on after a couple of welcome cups of tommy soup.  Then it was up the Gatesgarth Pass path.

This time it was my turn to get to the top first where I waited for Peter.  The weather had set in now so it was cagoules and gloves on.  Coming down the other side was it's usual steep and rocky self until we reached the point where the appropriately named Wren Gill meets the track.  It was like a giant had scooped a three foot deep, two foot wide trench out of the middle of the track. The track was destroyed. That must have been quiet a sight when that happened.  We were walking at this point and I started getting very cold so down in the bottom of the valley we resorted to wearing overtrousers.  It shows how I was feeling the cold as I didn't resort to overtrousers in the 1998 'Howling Howgills' KIMM or in the 2008 Borrowdale OMM.

It was around this point that I had another weird episode. I was walking alongside Peter when I suddenly realised I didn't know who it was next to me.  I went through a whole list of people (runners and non-runners) in my head before getting back to Peter.  This happened a couple of times.  I didn't tell Peter about the episode but I suspected this was a sign of hypothermia.  I spent a few minutes considering this and decided that it would be foolish to risk continuing.  I did have another top and some leggings in my bag but if I put those on I'd have had no back-up clothing.  With 20 dark, cold and wet miles to go it would have been
dangerous.  Having completed last year there was no pressure for me to prove anything so I had the luxury of being able to quit without feeling any loss or guilt.  This was all ironic considering last year I was held up in Kentmere by the medics with suspected hyperthermia.

So we arrived at the Kentmere checkpoint at around 9:00 p.m.(via the Sadgill track which was also torn up by the weather and was also a lot longer than I remembered) where I dibbed into the retiree dibber box being informed that the coach back to Coniston would leave around 10:30 p.m..  I made sure that Peter had anything he needed from me then dashed into the loos while he bravely set off into his second night to get his first completion.

It was at this point that the wicked god of retirees took over.  The first thing he did was to empty the header tanks for the loos in the checkpoint ten minutes after I arrived so they were closed.  He then made sure that the bus back to Coniston didn't leave until 1:00 a.m. So there I was with a very dodgy stomach in a checkpoint with no loos for 4 hours.  On arriving back in Coniston (after hallucinating a woman holding a bike outside the checkpoint) I was told we could have a t-shirt (which was fine as they aren't dated) but the wicked god had the last laugh as when I got home I found it was a L50 t-shirt!

While waiting at Kentmere both Steve and Brian came through and both very determined to finish, as they indeed did.

Back at the event centre I found that Paul had finished in 30:50.  Not the sub 30 he wanted but a brilliant determined effort nonetheless.  Ian had done a brilliant sub 10 and Kieran 10:39.  Mikey and Dom finished as I was there in 14:01 and Peter, Steve and Brian were still out on the course. I'm afraid I couldn't stay awake long enough to see them in.

Photo: Paul Hunt.   Peter at the finish

The journey home provided more opportunities to inspect plumbing as I called into almost every service area down the length of the M6.

In hindsight I'm very happy with the decision I took. Whilst I didn't actually feel too bad in myself during the event it was tiring feeling the need to go to the loo for 30 hours and it probably affected my digestion and energy intake.  I was certainly feeling the cold a lot more than I should have done.  Two days later and I'm already thinking about doing it again having said twice was enough.  However, I should have a guaranteed place in the UTMB next year so I might do the 50 as a training run.  We'll see.

Looming Large - Lakeland 100

So, dear reader, the end is nigh.  Just three weeks to the Lakeland 100.  Am I ready? Well I've not quite finished my preparations but more of that in a mo.  First a reminder of what I've got in store.  The route:

Map (c) http://www.cheaptents.com/

My original plan was to get my weight below 12 stones (76 kg) and increase my power-to-weight ratio.  My battle with the weight has been intersting.  I noticed that if I lost weight after a few decent training sessions then I'd put it back on even faster.  It was as if my body was a sponge which would over compensate for the enforced weight loss by sucking up everything it could.  I started out at the beginning of the year at almost 13 stones.  I've managed a gradual downward trend with a very fluctuating weight between 12 st 2 lb and 12 st 9 lb, with a norm of around 12st 5lb.  However, this is not as bad as it first appears as I've definitely lost the excess fat around my waist.  I think this weight loss has been countered by a weight gain in muscle mass on my legs.  I'm definitely stronger on the hills than I used to be.  My leg muscle definition is much more pronounced than it used to be. So, overall I feel and look to be in much better shape than I've ever been.  This is backed up by my recent performance on the Lakeland recces and recent local runs.  No complaints there.

Other changes I've made to help improve things is to get fitted with contact lenses.  The glasses were a major hindrance in wet or humid weather (classic Lakeland conditions) with steaming up and being covered in droplets. I did consider getting laser treatment but that seemed a step too far.  The run will take so long that daily lenses are good enough. I've had to resort to monthly lenses.  I've also had a couple of wobbly moles removed from my back.  They were getting sore from wearing a rucksac for several hours so my GP kindly whipped them off.  They've just healed nicely.

I've also invested in some lightweight poles.  They are amazing.  As soon as I start using them it's as if the hill flattens out.  I drop my friends and zoom off up the hill reaching the top feeling much fresher than without them.  I'm going to be very grateful for them in the second half of the event.  I'd recommend them to anyone, but if you do get some make sure you can store in an easily accessible place.  My rucksac is brillant for this.  I can reach back into the side pocket to store or retrieve the poles without stopping.

I've also noticed some interesting phsycological changes.  A 'short run' now is around 15 miles.  A longer training session is of ultramarathon distance.  I've probably done well over a dozen runs between 25 - 30 miles or more and thought nothing of it.  I noticed this last year when I did the Bullock Smithy run.  With 13 miles still to go I felt that it was all but over.  It's amazing how the mind works. 
 
So, with three weeks to go maybe I should start tapering.  Or maybe I should support my mate Dave on his Bob Graham Round attempt next weekend.  Sound like a good idea to me.  I can't resist the chance of a last minute trial (and trail) run so I've going to start with supporting him on Leg 2, (they're going clockwise so that's Threlkeld to Dunmail) at around 11:00 pm and then seeing how far I can get.  I intend to go all the way to Keswick (target time of 17:30 p.m. the next day) but will happily drop out if I feel it's taking too much out of me.  That will give me a good idea of how I cope with an overnight run and will allow me two weeks to taper/recover (and, if I'm honest, it gives me another excuse to get up into the lakes).  My only real concern is getting some sort of injury but that's a risk I'll have to take. 

Physically and mentally I feel that I'm in the best place I could hope to be. The recces have been invaluable.  I reckon that I can get round without having to refer to the map or route guide.  So, wish me luck, and I'll be reporting back on how I got on. 

Watch this space. 

P.S. If you haven't sponsored me yet, now's your chance.