Old County Tops 2012 - Slip Sliding Away

Well that was an unexpected pleasure.  I hadn't planned to do this race (a mere 37 miles up 10,000 foot worth of Helvellyn, Scafell Pike and Coniston Old Man) but responded to a request on the Lakeland 100 Facebook page for a partner.  This event is done in pairs (not sure why but I suppose it could turn a bit interesting if the weather came down).  The request was from Kieran Davis an ex-roadrunner turned fell/trail runner from Derbyshire, nearly 25 years my junior..  Kieran has entered the Lakeland 50 this year and was looking for some longer distance experience.  (His previous longest run was 21 miles.)  He was running sub 6 minutes miles on the road so I knew he'd have to wait for me.

I nearly didn't make it after having a massive headache on Thurday and finding my blood pressure to be 205/136.  That's seriously high so I took myself off to the docs.  It'd gone down a bit by the time I saw him but, having tried everything to avoid going on the pills for years I agreed to try some ACE inhibitors (but not until after the race).

So, after a Friday night at Ambleside Youth Hostel and awaking to a very rainy grey morning I drove over to the New Dungeon Ghyll in Langdale and met Kieran, along with his wife Jo and their dog.  Also there were Goyt Valley Strider clubmates Claire and Caz and Paul and Will as well as ultraplodder Nick.  Other famous faces were Sarah Rowell and Yiannis Tridimas both presumably having a break from supporting Bob Graham attempts.

I made a major mistake even before setting off from home.  I've clearly got into a trail running mindset and chose to take my XA Pros (one new pair and an old pair).  I didn't take my Speedcross as I'd not run more than 21 miles in them and didn't know how they'd work over this distance.  I didn't take the Mudclaws as they'd skinned my heels in the past over a long run.  So, the choice on Saturday morning was between a well worn pair of XA Pros or a new pair which I'd only worn twice.  Normally the new pair wouldn't be a problem as I'd been using XA Pros for many years and even did the Bullock Smithy in a pair straight out of the box, but this new pair were an updated model and the fit wasn't identical so there was a risk involved.  In the end I opted for the old pair and spent the rest of the day regretting it.  Hindsight now tells me I should have worn the Speedcross.

So, at 8:15 on a late start (due to dealing with EODs and partner swaps in the main registration queue) a record breaking 103 teams set off from the car park at New Dungeon Ghyll under a grey sky.  It had stopped raining half an hour before the start so the jackets were still on. Down the old Langdale road (farm track) to Chapel Stile (to the clangs of a Swiss cow bells bringing back memories of the Jungfrau Marathon) then up and over the shoulder of Silver Howe heading for Grasmere.  It was on the descent into Grasmere (where my ggg-grandfather was christened in 1805) that I received my first lesson in shoe choice.  Slipping in the mud I came down coccyx first onto a rock, also damaging my right index finger in the process.  No real damage done (although my finger was out of action for the rest of the day and is still painful a week later).

On through a very quite Grasmere and up the A59 for half a mile (to come across the same cow bell) before turning right up towards the Great Tongue. The poles came out here (I'm not proud) and the jacket and gloves went on for the drag up to Grisedale Tarn and up into the clouds hugging the Helvelyn ridge.  The race split here.  Half went straight up the monstrous incline to Dollywaggon Pike.  We, the rest, took a sloping line up the hill until we met the ridge path.  Kieran had plenty of time for a break waiting for me to drag my carcass up the hill.  The top was covered in frozen snow. A Bob Graham attempt by Aly Raw of Bingley Harriers had been through a hour of so before us and they were running through a snow storm. (She completed in under 23 hours for the record).  We were soon at the X wall shelter where the cheery marshalls took our number.  That's four times I've been on Helvellyn and I've yet to have a view of any description.

Off we dropped down the side of Helvellyn on a SSW heading.  Next time (Did I say that?) I'll drop a bit further West where the ground levels out more. On the top section the scree rocks were covered in a thin but very solid layer of ice.  The combination of snow, ice and shoes fit for ten pin bowling made for the first of several interesting descents.  We eventually picked our way down and dropped through the trees to Wythburn car park and checkpoint where we picked up some malt loaf and jam sandwiches.

The Wythburn valley came next.  Three quarters of the way up we came across a dead ewe with a live lamb snuggling into it.  A hiker said he was going down to tell the farmer.  Hope it made it.

We took a line to the left of the stream cutting over the shoulder of High Raise, rather than contouring round like most did.  I prefer our route choice.  We dropped down onto Stake Pass then round the back of Rossett Crag to the time-out checkpoint at Angle Tarn with 15 minutes to spare.

Photos: Nick Lander

Now we've got to get to Cockley Beck in time then we're safe.  Just the little matter of Scafell Pike and the Great Moss to deal with first.  

With Angle Tarn looking spectacularly black and sinister behind us we headed off up to Esk Hause.  We hadn't gone far when I recognised the pair in front of us. It was Paul and Will.  We gradually hauled them in and I enquired as to where Paul's poles were to which he replied that they were for girls.  He's obviously been listening to our clubmate Al.  I'll remind him of that when we're heading up Garthsgate Pass on the Lakeland 100 in July.   We went up and over Broad Crag and up Scafell Pike together.

The race organisers had advised anyone who hadn't recce'd the southern drop off Scafell Pike to retrace their steps down to Little Narrowcove and drop down there.  This was our plan until Will said he'd recce'd the route recently so we tagged on and set off down what I remember as being a vertical cliff looking from the bottom.  We hadn't gone far before Will said that the route he'd recce'd was further to the right and he'd recce'd it uphill!  However, he managed to find the way down but not without leaving me behind in my roller skate shoes. They took off over Great Moss while Kieran waited for me to slide my way down.

I was a bit weary going over Great Moss which seemed to go on forever.  Just before we reached Mosedale I downed 500ml of isotonic drink and that seemed to revive me no end.  We tanked it down Mosedale, passing three of four teams and nipped past Paul and Will just before the Cockley Beck checkpoint 8 minutes inside the cut-off.  The cakes, sandwiches and bananas we're just what the doctor ordered.  After topping up the drink bladder we set off for the last hill.  I was surprised to see Paul still in the checkpoint as he's normally in and out like a shot.  They'd previously told me that Claire and Caz were behind them which meant I was first in our club.  Not that that made the upcoming climb any easier.

The poles came out again as we set off up towards Swirl Howe, cutting off the corner of Grey Friars.  After a steady 500m of ascent, during which we climbed alongside a pair of guys from the Pennine club, one of whom was revelling in being much higher than his Dutch countrymen.  Kieran spent quite a while waiting for me going up here.  We picked up the top path here and headed off in the direction of Coniston Old Man (COM).  This part of the route was an out and back to the top of COM so we were now seeing pairs on their way back to the finish. 

At Levers Hawse I had to succumb to the inevitable and squatted behind a rock only to realise everyone dropping down to the hawse could see my backside sticking out.  That's twice things have gone wrong here.  A few years ago I was just finishing day 2 of a Saunders Mountain Marathon and just had to drop down to Low Water for the last control when my partner took a bee line in the mist for what turned out to be Levers Water.  We lost a good 90 minutes looking for a control that wasn't there.  Never again did I trust someone else's navigation. 

We were then up and over the upturned pudding bowl that is Brim Fell and up to the Old Man.  Three down, none to go.  A quick swig of water and we were off back down. Skirting round Swirl Howe we dropped down to Three Shire Stone and onto the road.  This is where my shoes at last came into their own.  We tonned it down the road pick up at least three teams in the process.  At the wall corner we turned left and along the Lakeland 100/50 course (albeit in reverse) past Blea Tarn picking off another weary pair.  The drop down into Langdale felt much shorter than it does going up it.  It was then across to Side House Farm where I admit we cut that corner by going through the gate to the left of the farm. 

At this point, with just a quarter of a mile left, I ran out of steam.  I could feel the tank emptying with every step I took until I was reduce to a walk.  Kieran waited for me on the bridge.  I used the tiny drop off the bridge to get going again and managed to run the couple of hundred yards to the finish in a time of something like 10:45, well outside of the sub 10 we fancied at the start and over three hours behind the winners. Considering 20% of the field didn't finish and I was running in carpet slippers we can't complain though.  A grand day out on the hills. (Oh, and did I mention, I was first in our club?)

After refuelling on the marvellous lentil soup and cakes I then tried to find a room at the New Dungeon Ghyll hotel but they were full so I set off to Bingley to deliver my painting of Dave. 

During the event, as I was trudging through some of the boggier sections I remembered why I'd decided not to do OMMs anymore and to focus on trailrunning, but with hindsight I really enjoyed this event and will probably be back for more (with the right shoes of course).

Stepping Up the Miles

Having not managed a long run in April (due to a variety of reasons) I desperately needed to get out for a few hours before the upcoming Old County Tops (37 miles and 10,000 feet over Helvellyn, Scafell and Coniston Old Man) race on 19th May.  So I planned a big loop from our house expecting it to be somewhere in the low 20s only to find out when I got home it was over 29 miles according to Run Keeper.

I can't get the map to embed so click here to see> last Sunday's run.

It was cool and wet (and slippy underfoot, especially in the latter half) so I didn't need too much in the way of fluids (I drank a litre overall) but I felt very hungry for some reason (probably due to me cutting down on the carbs recently).  Fortunately I'd taken a couple of bananas and bars but was still feeling empty over the last ten miles.  I was ready for a cup of tea and a nice hot bath by the time I got home but overall fairly pleased as I found the first 20 miles nice and comfortable (and I got to see some Shetland pony foals which were extremely cute and not much bigger than our dog.)

GG III

Had a long day out yesterday. Unfortunately most of it was in the car.  Set off at 6:30 to get to Grindleford in the Peak District at 9:00 for my third outing on the Grindleford Gallop.  This is a course that suits me more than some others due to the long runnable sections with just three hills of any size.  In the last two years I'd come 3rd and 2nd within the club which never happens in other, more hilly, races. 

I didn't know how I'd get on as I'd not run more than 10 miles in one go (and then only a couple of times) since last August and hardly been out at all until after Christmas.  However, I had managed to get out almost every day in February for 4-5 milers (mostly around the flat lands around Towcester where I work). This was unheard of as three times a week was normal for me.  As usual I was carrying too much weight (fat) for my liking. I'd mysteriously put on half a stone (3 kg) very rapidly in February taking me over 13 stone for the first time in years.  I've managed to get down to 12st 10lb but that's still a stone above racing weight.

Anyway, the weather was almost identical to the previous two years, a bit chilly but no real promise of rain and the risk of the sun coming out.  There was a record attendence by our club (Goyt Valley Striders) with nearly 40 members entered.  It was good to see the old faces again (and some new ones) as I'd not been out with the club for over a year.  (A 350 mile round trip for a training run is a bit excessive).

After a quick warm up we were off.  The usual dash for the narrow stiles was made and out onto the first hill we went.  That soon brought me to a walk as usual.  While strolling up, a new GVS face jogged past (this turned out to be Nick Jefferson who I'd never met before), closely followed by Peter Davis.  They disappeared over the top but I managed to catch and pass Peter as we entered Eyam village.  This set the pattern for the next few miles.  Peter passed me on the drag over Longstone Moor and I caught him again as we entered Great Longstone (where Stuart took this picture).

A bit of mind reading had gone on on the run down into Great Longstone.  Last year Peter had recommended using contact lenses.  Advice which I'd taken.  Along the stony track into GL I'd been thinking it was a good job I was wearing them instead of steamed up glasses when, on catching Peter he said "Bloody hell, I wish I hadn't told you about those lenses".  

Peter then caught me up on the disused railway line heading towards Bakewell.  I clung onto his shirt tails along the track only to see him disappear up the hill to Ballcross Farm.  I didn't see him again until the finish. 

The rest of the run was fairly uneventful. The cracking view down the Derwent valley from Calton Pastures.  Drop down to Edensor, through Chatsworth Park to Baslow then another walk up onto Baslow Edge (where I met Sally Hunter, who forgot to take my picture).  By this time the lack of long runs was showing in my weary legs as I plodded along the tops of the various edges (where, apparently, I passed Will Meredith, who forgot to take my picture).   

That final drag along the top of Froggat Edge to the road felt longer than ever, followed by a weary descent into Grindleford to finish in 3:13, a minute down on last year.  I thought I was 3rd in the club but Stephen Bull had somehow snuck in between me and Peter so I was 4th (7th overall in the M50 category and 68th/339 overall (still comfortably upper quartile)).  

I then managed to drive home to finish a long, weary but enjoyable day.  

Blog Convergence

Well, it's finally happened.  I've done my first running painting.  That represents a convergence of my two blogs, this one and SlappingOilOnCanvas.  I painted this recently as a present for my mate and mountain marathon (KIMM/OMM, Saunders etc) partner Dave on his 50th birthday.

.
This painting had an immovable deadline so that gave me the motivation to get my finger out and do it at last.  (I nearly started it a year ago getting Dave's birth year a year early).  I have an ambition to become a regular painter of mountain scenery, ideally with a race going on and this was my first attempt.  Unfortunately there's are any mountains in view but I'm very pleased with the result.  The race Dave was taking part in was the Really Wild Boar race up in the Pennines near Sedbergh.

Time for an Update

So it's a new year (already!) and the first month is nearly over.  This post is a brief look at what I've got planned for the year and what's happened so far.

Top news is that I didn't get selected in the lottery for the Ultra Trail de Mont Blanc (UTMB) 2012 which is a shame, especially as my mate Dave is doing the impressive La Petite Trotte à Léon (PTL) and would have been over in Chamonix at the same time.  Hopefully, this means that I'll get automatic entry for next year's event but with the massive oversubscription the race could be almost full with just the carry-overs from this year.  It wouldn't surprise me if they changed the rules on automatic entries. 

On a brighter note I got into this year's Lakeland 100 so I've got that to look forward to.  I'm also doing the Grindleford Gallop for the third consecutive year.  I've done well in this so far, coming third and second in the club.  Looking at the large number of club entries for this year I somehow don't think that this trend will continue to first place.

As consolation to the UTMB I will probably enter a new event in Switzerland the Baechli Sardona Ultra Trail being organised by my friend Umberto. I've also got the offer of going over in the spring to recce the course and hopefully help with planning if I can.

I might squeeze in the 56 mile Bullock Smithy in August.  I've got a 12 hour target to beat there. Apart from that there's a weekend recce of the latter half of the Lakeland 100 in June but nothing else planned.

The first three months of this year is the 3Ss: Speed, Strength and Suppleness.  Well that was the plan.  I've had a couple of cold/flu spells and an aching flank (hopefully not my dead kidney playing up) that spoiled the first part of January.  I'm getting back into the swing of things now by putting in 5 or 6 five milers per week in the last two weeks.  I need to get into a more rigourous pattern of training though.

Well I've no doubt bored you enough now so, until the next time, get off your bum and go for a run.

Ridgeway Challenge Piccies

These marvellous (well they do feature me!) photos are taken from Ian J Berry's gallery at: https://picasaweb.google.com/108308823179714482058/TheRidgewayChallenge2011?authkey=Gv1sRgCIa2jJDfjrH8iQE&feat=email#  I can't find out how to contact Ian so I hope he doesn't mind me using them. 
Checkpoint 1

Approaching Wendover Woods near Chivery farm







Approaching Chequers

At Cadsden (after the downpour)

The lady just behind me is Sandra Bowers (friend/partner? of Ian the photographer) who went on to win the Lady's race (becoming UK Trail Running Champion (Long Distance) in the process).  The speed at which she passed me going up Whiteleaf Hill was very impressive.  Here is her blog: http://sandrabowers.blogspot.com/  I get an anonymous mention in her Ridgeway post as the local runner with walking sticks!

Somewhere on a road (near Princes Risborough?)

Man of Bronze

This post could have a number of titles after a very mixed day (or two) on the Ridgeway Challenge 2011, which was also hosting the UK Trial Running Championship (Long Distance).  Alternative titles include:

• Less Rush, More Haste
• Pride Comes Before a Fall
• Slip Sliding Away
• A Race of Two Halves

The Ridgeway Challenge is an 85 (some say 87) mile race along the Ridgeway long distance footpath starting on the top of Ivinghoe Beacon, along the Chiltern Hills to the River Thames, across the river and Goring then along the Wessex Downs to Avebury.

Less Rush, More Haste
I had little time to get ready with not getting home from a business trip to Moscow unitl 9:00 p.m. on Friday night.  In the end I forgot to apply sunscreen and to protect my nipples from friction burn.

Pride Comes Before a Fall
Having recently completed the Lakeland 100 I decided to have a go at this race as it is local to me.  I live a couple of miles from the start and I'd used the Eastern half of the route as a training run for the Lakeland so I knew it well. At 85 miles and 9000 feet of ascent (compared to the Lakeland's 105 miles and 24,000 feet) I thought it would be well within my means.  I'd done little training in the month between the two events, having only got in 3 or 4 short runs.  So, not giving it the respect it deserves,

At the due start time Anthony Taylor, the race organiser blew his whistle.  I and a few other Ridgeway virgins thought he was attracting our attention for a pre-race brief but it actually the start whistle.  I set off  (No. 114) at a high pace (although not as high as the eventual winner who sprinted off into the distance).



I ran the hills, which I never normally do on a long run, and arrived at checkpoint 1 after ten miles in 5th or 6th place!  This was enough to damage my calves and quads which ached badly for the rest of the event.  Lesson learned.

Slip Sliding Away
The weather during daylight was very mixed and alternated massively.  One minute it was a torrential downpour, the next it was hot sunshine.  It was difficult to know what to wear.  It had rained during the previous week and, being local, I knew the chalk paths would be greasy.  I chose to wear my Salomon XA Pros which don't have the best grip but I didn't want to risk blisters by wearing my Salomon Speed Cross or Inov-8 Mudclaws on a 40 miles stretch. Our bags were being transported to the halfway checkpoint at Goring so we could have a kit change.  The first few miles to Chinnor were better than I'd expected.  It was easy to avoid any greasy areas on the path.  The next five or more miles along the straight path past Lewknor and Watlington were a completely different matter.  Imagine trying to run on a lumpy and rutted surface covered in axle grease and you have some idea of the soul (and leg) destroying experience we had on that section.  On already achey legs it was utterly tiring and demoralising not being able to get a grip.  That long, straight and flat section is not my favourite at the best of times but this was awful.  It left me miserable and trying to think of reasons to pack but try as I might I couldn't.  Aching legs don't count as an excuse.

The next section was back up the Chilterns escarpment and up and down a couple of roller coaster valleys past Swyncombe Church.   This was followed by a run out of the Chilterns down to the Thames along a lovely path in the Grims Dyke.  I found a second wind at this point and used the gentle downhill gradient to put my head down and cruise along the path.  As the Thames was reached and the route turned south along the eastern bank of the river I passed eleven other runners in the space of five minutes.  My plan was to keep going to Goring where there was hot food and a change of clothes waiting for me.   Unfortunately I ran out of steam at North Stoke and had to walk/jog the rest of the way to the checkpoint to arrive at 8:23 p.m. just as it was getting dark.

A Race of Two Halves
Having had a hard and mixed first half and feeling very weary I was determined to make best use of my time at Goring to put myself back into some sort of shape to do another 42 plus miles. I first got washed (wet wipe) and changed.  I decided that as I would probably be doing a significant amount of night walking that I would wear my new three quarter length Salomon leggings rather than shorts and a Helly Hansen long sleeved top rather than a t-shirt.  We had a cool head wind all day (and night).  I found a small blister on the side of my left middle toe but it wasn't bothering me so I left it alone. 

One legacy of the Lakeland 100 was some foot damage.  The tendon running under my right big toe was still sore and the front of the ball of my foot was sore to the touch but I couldn't feel it when walking or running.  This area,  on both feet, was now very sore at Goring and would prove to be my main area of concern in the second half.  I knew that the paths on the western end of the Ridgeway were almost all wide smooth hard tracks so I opted to wear road shoes with trail socks, a combination I'd not tried before.

Feeling a bit better in my clean dry clothes I then set about refueling.  I had 300ml of SIS Rego recovery drink, a cup of tea, a cup of Miso soup, a bowl of beef and veg stew with two slices of bread, a bowl of rice and fruit and a banana. The checkpoint staff generally were very good but at Goring they were excellent, running round getting the midway bags, drinks and food.  I topped up my drinks bladder, filled my 500ml bottle with tea and set off at 9:17.

Out of the check point it was across the Thames into Streatly then up the gradual ascent back onto the top of the ridge.  I tried running sections of this but kept feeling like I was going bring back all that food so I settled into a fast walk for the first hour.  Along the top I was feeling fairly good so I broke into a jog and passed a few runners (walking).  Coming down a slight incline I came across another competitor. As I was about to pass her she said something (can't remember what) so I stopped and we ended up joining up and doing most of the rest of the route together.  This was Lindsey, a very experienced ultra runner.  I did feel a bit guilty as I dropped into a fast speed walking pace, using my new Mountain King Trail Blaze poles (which replaced the Raidlight poles I'd snapped on the Lakeland 100), while Lindsey adopted her ultra jogging shuffle.  It appeared to be relatively hard work.  I was striding out, breathing nice and steadily while Lindsey was jogging alongside breathing heavily.  However, she seemed happy enough, and I suspect that she'd done this for thousands of miles over the years, so this is how we progressed for the next thirty odd miles.  I had to jog a bit to keep up with her on the downhills and she jogged along side me on the rest.  A good combination.  I think we kept each other's pace up much more than if we'd been alone. Leaving checkpoint 7 Lindsey was sick and told me to keep going, which I did, catching up with a couple of other guys.  At checkpoint 8 Lindsey reappeared seven minutes behind us.  I though she was still in the checkpoint when we left but we caught her up a mile down the road.  It was then back up onto the top where the route turned southward to follow a loop round Ogbourne St George (where I pinched an apple from an overhanging tree (my need was greater than theirs)).  The day dawned as we approached Ogbourne.  The weather had been kind to us during the night.  Apart from a couple of very light and quick showers around 10:00 p.m. the rain held off.  The sun came out around six and started to warm us up.

From Ogbourne the route went up the final big climb, a long drag up onto Barbary Castle. 

From here there were 5 miles of undulating track along the top of the ridge until a right turn led a couple of miles down into Avebury and the finish.  The road took us between the massive Avebury Stone Circle stones and into the village.  A final 100 metre jog to the waiting crowd outside the checkpoint and we were there.  A long hard slog made so much harder by my foolish start.

Inside the checkpoint building (Avebury Social Centre) I received a pleasant surprise when race organiser Anthony Taylor awarded me with the bronze medal for the M50 category in the UK Trail Running Championship.  I thought I'd blown my chances of getting anything considering I walked half of the route.  A very nice end to the run. Provisional results are here.

Overall, the route (and event) are well worth doing.  A lot of the competitors I spoke to had done the 145 miles Grand Union Canal run.  This would drive me mad with it's unending tow path running, tiny gradients at the locks and running through the backwaters of towns.  The Ridgeway, with it's miles of chalk drovers paths, has just enough variety in its woods and valleys to keep my interest.  Anything less and I would find it drudgery.  I'll be sticking to mountain and hill running.  Time will tell if I have another go at the Ridgeway.

Mission Accomplished - Lakeland 100 in the Bag

A mere 105 miles on rough tracks over 24,000 feet of ascent in 34 hours 51 minutes.  I was 69th overall (with only two people older than me in front of me, although one of those was 67!) out of 116 finishers from 224 starters.  I got to bed at 6:00 a.m. on Sunday having last slept at 7:00 a.m. on Friday.  Two hours later I had to drag my carcass out of the tent to go for a pee. 
 
Preparation
I entered the Lakeland100 on New Years Day as a "sod it, what's the worst that can happen, I catch the bus of shame" new year's resolution.  I spent the next three months getting up earlier than usual to do a core session on the Wii and an intervals session on the cross trainer.  I also upped my weekly mileage from 10-20 miles to 40-60.  I also tried to loose a stone and a half (I started at 13st which is too much for my skinny six foot frame).  The weight was a struggle to get off but the fat came off OK.  I can only assume the weight stayed due to increased muscle mass.  In other words I changed shape without losing much weight.  I did manage to shift half a stone in the end. My dodgy knee seemed to have given up the ghost after I'd ignored it for the last six months, which was a relief. Overall, I reckon I did as much as I could in preparation, including recceing the whole course (I had no intention of having to navigate) and was pretty satisfied with my condition as the weekend approached.

I think that I'd cracked the biggest problem that a lot of my fellow entrants seemed to be struggling with, many years ago back in my developing years.  Mentally, the thought of running 100 miles has never been an issue for me.  My dad was a cyclist and he got me and my brothers on bikes not long after we could walk.  I did my first 'proper' bike ride when I was 5 years old (6 miles to the local power station and back).  I youth hostelled my way from Doncaster to Scarborough and back when I was 9 and did my first 100 mile bike ride as an 11 year old.  I've since done 240 mile 24 hour rides with very little training.  I know in my bones that any distance is possible if you just keep going.  However, the price I paid is that I'm a tourist and not a racer.  I don't mind the distance as long as I can choose my own pace.

My Good Run
After the last recce we had a presentation from last year's L100 winner Stuart Mills.  He asked us to discuss what would make a good race for us.  Stuart is a racer and not a tourist.  He'd been racing since he was a kid. 

I set out three objectives in the following order of priority:

1. To finish;
2. To enjoy it;
3. To get somewhere near 30 hours.

Race Weekend
I brought my family (minus daughter Lucy who's in the US) up to the Lakes with me to try and make a holiday of it.  We managed to get a last minute cottage some 7-8 miles south of Coniston.  I also put up a tent in the event campsite at Coniston High School as I was expecting to finish sometime after midnight on Sunday and wanted to crash out there.

Prior to the start I had to weigh in (so that they could detect hyponatreamia during the event) (at 88.1 kg) and register, collecting my race number (140) and Sports Ident dibber (for checking in at the 14 checkpoints on route) and having my kit checked.  Here's a dibber:

We all attended the pre-race briefing to be given last minute route instructions and a pep talk by the one and only living legend Joss Naylor.  He offered us advice on endurance running "keep the knees bent running downhill" and had a go at the 3-Peakers who clutter up Wasdale with their litter.  Then we had a hour to relax before the start.

There were four of us from Goyt Valley Striders (Mark R, Paul H, Pete D and me) in the 100 and one, Will, in the 50.  Others I knew were Colin W (Pennine), Simon M (Buxton), Steve F (Bingley) and Steve K(Manchester).  We lined up at the start in the hot sunshine.  The forecast had been for sunny intervals but this was no cool summer's day.  It was probably in the low 20's centigrade but it feels a lot more when there's no breeze and you're heading over the hills.  My two pre-race nightmares were hot weather and falling asleep on my feet.  The first was already here. 

 

Leg 1 - Coniston to Seathwaite (1h 27m)

Terry sounded the hooter and we were off.  The first of around a quarter of a million steps!

Here's some early video of the first 40 miles from http://zacpoulton.blogspot.com/ :

Lakeland 100 UTLD 2011 from Mountain Zac on Vimeo.

The usual rush over the first mile or so was soon over before settling down into the climb up into Coppermines valley.  I used my poles, which I'd recently acquired, on this climb.  They help enormously with my less than average hill climbing ability.  At 135g each they are extremely light but do the job admirably as long as you don't put all your weight on them.  I was so glad to have them for the climbs, especially those in the second half when I'd be knackered.  Unfortunately, that was not to be. 

We went round The Bell then back down to the start of Walna Scar Road where Stuart Mills was taking photos. 

Me and my poles 2 miles in         Picture - Stuart Mills

Pete D and I to and fro in the sweltering heat up to Walna Scar then drop over the other side together down to the Seathwaite checkpoint.  I dib in, top up my water and grab some food before leaving.  Pete had disappeared.  I though he'd pulled a fast one and dibbed and gone (he hardly drinks anything).  So I set off expecting to see him him just ahead.

Leg 2 - Seathwaite to Boot (1h 32m)

Across the valley then up to Glassguards where I had to stop the first of several groups on this leg going off route.  Around the farm then up the valley to the boggy stuff through the forest below Harter Fell (we pass both Harter Fells on this route).  I'd come down this boggy valley in much much worse conditions on the 2000 KIMM wading through knee deep slurry, so this felt quite luxurious in the dry conditions.  They'd even repaired parts of the path even since the recce in January, making parts of it runnable. Then it was over the fence and down through the gap in the crags.

Gap between the grags towards Boot                    Picture - Nick Ham

These valleys in the south western Lake District are some of my favourites.  They are less visited than most yet are the most scenic.  The Duddon valley in golden autumn sunshine is absolutely stunning. Along the wall then down past the farm (where an irate lady farmer was (quite rightly)ranting about gates being left open) then it was along the river and down a short lane to Boot.  The two pubs in Boot were packed with evening drinkers who cheered and clapped us as we passed which was nice.  Then it was onto the second checkpoint.  There'd been no sign of Pete so I thought he'd scarpered off into the sunset.  I obtained my first bottle of tea at Boot, having learned my lesson on the Bullock Smithy run last year when I lost loads of time trying to drink tea and move at the same time.  This worked a treat.  After letting it cool a bit I was able to drink it easily while on the move.

Leg 3 - Boot to Wasdale (1h 18m)

My strategy included not running up any hills in order to minimise muscle damage (and also because uphills are not my strength. Neither are downhills since I broke my face on a rock but that's another story), but I found my self jogging up parts of the climb to Burnmoor Tarn.  Having seen it on the recce I expected a few people to follow the track up the hill when it turned sharp left instead of going straight on.  I didn't expect everyone to do it.  It made me wonder if I was wrong but I stuck to my guns and went straight on.  The hardly existent path become more defined and my confidence was justified as I pulled back loads of runners who'd gone up the hill to the back end of the tarn and did two sides of a triangle instead of sticking to the route.  I allowed myself a little chuckle of smugness.  

There had been more footpath repair on this section since the recce, particularly on the tarn outlet and the path down to Wasdale.  I remember it being particularly rough going down into Wasdale but a lot of this had been smoothed out.  The route had been changed to avoid the stream crossing and followed the route that we'd conveniently taken in the recce.  It was starting to get dark as I approached Wasdale checkpoint.  It was still warm so I didn't put on any more clothing at the checkpoint apart from putting my buff round my neck.  The headtorch came out at this point but I didn't turn it on just yet.  Still no sign of Pete.

Leg 4 - Wasdale to Buttermere (2h 18m)

I set off on my own and dropped into Mosedale.  It was now dark enough to use the headtorch but I chose not to use it as I could make out the path OK.  It was a shame there was no moon.  It would have been amazing in this valley with a full moon shining.  Even so I managed to get to the top of Black Sail Pass in the dark without the use of a head torch.  I only turned it on when others joined me and my night vision was ruined.  The trail of head torches bobbing up the path to the pass was an incredible sight.  What a bunch of nutters we were.  We seemed to group up going down the pass.  There we two women in the group (one of whom I later learned was the winning lady Gaynor Prior).

It was here that disaster struck.  I had intended to use my poles only on the uphills put they seems to offer some stability going down in the dark.  I planted both poles into the ground when suddenly my feet slipped out from underneath me.  This was too much for my ultralight poles and they both snapped in the middle.  My heart sank.  I still had 85 miles to go!  I could picture the climbs out of Buttermere, Keswick, Howtown, Mardale and Kentmere all waiting to destroy my calfs and quads. I spent the next 30 miles trying to think of a way to fix the poles.  I even considered raiding the campsite at Braithwaite to nick a tent peg or two but chickened out in the end.  The last thing I needed was being chased down the road by a furious semi-naked camper!

So, I packed my poles away and got on with the job in hand (on foot?).  Half way down from Black Sail there's a craggy bit with a tree next to it.  I managed to remember that this can be avoided by simply going left where there's an easy grass path to the bottom of the crag. 

Going past Black Sail youth hostel one of the hostellers was sat outside watching us troop past.  I wonder how long he sat out there.  Must have been quite a sight with the head torches coming down the hill.  I was too busy watching where I put my feet to look back.  We then mounted Scarth Gap.  I missed my poles already but was pleasantly surprised that I didn't get passed.  The horrid boulder strewn path down to Buttermere was thankfully navigated safely and I managed to run the rest of the way to the checkpoint.  I'd hoped for six hours to this point which was a little ambitious considering it took seven and a half on the recce in January (although I was a lot less fit back then).  I dibbed in at 6:36. 

Leg 5 - Buttermere to Braithwaite (1h 57m)

Topped up the water and tea and grabbed an apple and a bag of jelly beans then I was off.  Halfway through the trees I met up with the other of the two ladies of Black Sail (Gaynor had gone off ahead of her at Scarth Gap).  She and another runner seemed to think I knew where I was going (which I did but don't things look different in the dark) and took my lead.  Fortunately I chose the right paths and we headed off up towards Sail Pass.  At the second stream before the proper climb started I came across another runner.  He turned round and said "Hello Mick".  It was Steve F of Bingley but how he recognised my with my headtorch shining in his face I don't know.  It was weird as I'd just been thinking about him due to his warning me a couple of weeks previously (when we'd both been supporting a mutual friend Dave S on his successful Bob Graham Round) about a very deep puddle on this very path.  We went up over Sail Pass (that path seemed ten times longer and harder than when I'd flown up it with my poles on the recce) and dropped down into Braithwaite together dibbing in at 2:00 a.m.  I loaded up with pasta and rice pudding while Steve took off.  The next time I saw him I didn't recognise him.

Leg 6 - Braithwaite to Blencathra (2h 7m) 

Leaving Braithwaite checkpoint I didn't think that I'd be able to run another step.  My legs were so stiff.  I managed to start with a shuffle which turned into a jog and by the time I left the village I was cruising!  I pulled back half a dozen runners and ran all the way up to Spooney Green Lane (can't help wanting to call it Spooky Green Lane), past a couple of sets of supporters cheering me on.  One of these turned out to be friends of the aforementioned Simon M. 

Between Braithwaite and Spooky Green Lane the route goes along a disused railway track.  This passes the back of Crosthwaite Church graveyard.  Several of my ancestors (the Borrowdale Wrens) from the 18th century are buried in there.  I wondered what they'd make of their ggggggg-grandson running 100 miles for the sake of it.

I power marched up the SGL hill keeping my eyes peeled for a suitable stick to replace my poles.  Didn't find one.  I ran and walked the path from Latrigg up the wonderfully named Glenderaterra valley.  As I approached the turn point at the end of the valley I could see a headtorch coming down from Skidday House (where I'd bunked in my youth when it was still a ruin).  I found out later that this was Colin W (more of whom later).  He'd overshot the turning. 

It was getting light as I approach the Blencathra Centre.  I managed to turn off my headtorch for a large part of the run/walk back down Glenderatta to the checkpoint where we were greeted by loads of balloons leading up to the checkpoint.  At the check point they were handing out free socks.  I certainly wasn't going to risk blisters by trying on untried socks so I didn't take them up on their very kind offer.  Plenty of others did.  As I was arriving Colin was leaving the checkpoint only to take another wrong turn and paying Threlkeld a visit before having to backtrack to the checkpoint.

Leg 7 - Blencathra to Dockray (2h 6m)

This leg proved to be my most weary.  It should have been a good runnable section but I was going through a tired spell.  I managed to run most of the railway line but trudged up to the coach road bemoaning the loss of my poles.  The sun, a big round orange ball, groped its way into the sky as I shuffled along the coach road.

I could feel my water logged socks rubbing on the arches under my feet so at the checkpoint (which apparently had been organised with 4 days notice after the original group pulled out. Well done gents) I took off my socks, rang them out and applied liberal amounts of Vaseline to the soles of my feet.  Maybe I should have tried the Blencathra socks after all.  As I was getting ready to go Paul H turned up.  I thought I'd see him at some point.  He's not naturally as fast a runner as me but he's relentless and has perfected the art of passing through checkpoints without seeming to stop whereas I dawdle and pratt around wasting time.  A real hare and tortoise pair we are (plus he'd managed not to break his poles.  Not that I was jealous of course.) 

I think it was here that Paul told me that Pete had retired with stomach problems.  Apparently he'd not dashed off after Seathwaite but had gone to the toilet.  No wonder I couldn't catch him up, he was behind me! 

Leg 8 - Dockray to Dalemain (2h 39m)

It was sunglasses back on now the sun was up.  It promised to be a glorious day, unfortunately. 

A painful jog down the road to Dockray proper then it was the track round and up onto Gowbarrow Fell.  A group of five or six of us had formed going up the hill.  I led the first half but felt I was holding them back so I let them go.  They soon disappeared leaving my to my own thoughts.  I just saw the last of them entering the lovely Swinburn Park woods as I started the descent.  I love this path through the woods.  It undulates through shaded areas broken up by the sun piercing its way through and lighting up small glades.  I first came through these woods some 20 years ago when I walked with my eldest daughter (she's 26 now) from our campsite at Watermillock to Aria Force.  The trees have grown a bit since then.  

Out of the woods and along the path then the route left the fells and took to cultivated fields and roads to Dalemain.  In the middle of the first field there's a small footbridge across a tiny stream.  On the recce we had just crossed this when a cow, thinking we were a threat to its calf, took a lunge at Paul who jumped back and cracked his knee on a rock.  The calfs had long gone this time. Three fields later and we were out onto the roads.  I'd nearly caught up with the group that had dropped me by now.   

I'm not sure how but I managed to run most of this road section to Dacre, past the still inhabited castle (windows need a wash) and along the farm track to Dalemain and past about eight other runners in the process. It was just after 9:00 a.m.  Time for breakfast.

Leg 9 - Dalemain to Howtown (2h 28m)

Picture this, a sweating and haggard looking 53 year old bloke sat on camping chair in a field wearing just speedos and a pair of compression socks.  Nice eh?  That was me for a while at Dalemain.  I had an almost complete change of clothes and shoes.  The checkpoint crew were marvellous, providing a waited service for the drinks and grub.  I washed myself down with wet-wipes and reapplied sunscreen and insect repellent before getting dressed into a much cooler white shirt. 

Paul turned up 12 minutes behind me but was in and out in a flash but not before spotting our clubmate Mark R laying down at the back of the marquee.  He told Paul that he'd retired.  I didn't want to disturb him as he seemed to be sleeping but we found out later (and in Gaynor's blog (where she calls him Marc)) that he'd been throwing up for miles.  He is prone to this having done it in the middle of his successful 50 at 50 Bob Graham last year.  We'd expected him to be miles ahead by now.  He'd arrived at Dalemain three and a half hours ahead of us!  I think I'd have been sick running at that pace.

After a good half hour or more of my pratting around I set off into the increasingly hot day for the second half.  As at Braithwaite it was hard to get going again but the legs soon freed up enough to shuffle along the river to Pooley Bridge.  This 2 mile stretch to Pooley Bridge from Dalemain was the only part of the route that I hadn't recced but it was hardly a navigational challenge. 

I walked almost all of the section from Pooley Bridge to the top before the right turn.  We'd spotted someone taking a short cut across that corner and we met him as he came off it (not much of a short cut then).  I checked his number later and he retired at Howtown so maybe he'd already decided to pack it in. 

The downhill into Howtown was nice with gorgeous views down Ullswater.  This western view along Ullswater has to be one of the best in the Lakes.

Down to Howtown   Pic - Andreas Mayer

A simple jog down into the checkpoint where I met Paul on his way out.  Colin was in there having a few minutes rest.  As I came out one of the checkpoint marshals was seeing to a guy laying on a bench and wrapped up in a blanket.  I didn't know at the time but it turns out this was Steve F.  He'd fainted from the heat and clearly had to pack.  I didn't recognise him although I didn't look too close.

It was then out of the checkpoint and up Fusedale.  I'd recced this stretch twice before so I knew what was coming next. 

Leg 10 - Howtown to Mardale Head (3h 32m) 

I wasn't feeling too bad at this point.  Some walkers asked what event we were doing.  I explained, showing them the race number on my rucksac like a peacock showing his feathers.  So suitably puffed up I trotted down the farm track to the bottom of the climb.  

The climb out of Howtown    Pic - Andreas Mayer

I could see Paul about half a mile ahead plugging away on his poles (not that I was fixating on them). This is one of those climbs that just gets harder and harder as you ascend.  Just before Groove Gill it gets really steep. This is where I had a unique experience (for me anyway).  I got shin cramp. How do you get cramp in your shins? Don't know but I did and it was agony.  I had to stop and turn round away from the slope.  I was also in serious risk of heat stroke.

Looking back down from Groove Gill    Pic - Andreas Mayer

I made it to Groove Gill and promptly stuck my head into the clear cool water, taking several gulps as I did.  That helped cool me down but there was still a way to go uphill.  It eases off just after Groove Gill before rearing up again to meet the High Street path.  I could hardly move up this section with my shin cramps and had to keep stopping. 

The top at last    Pic- Andreas Mayer

I finally got to the top and cross High Street at Wether Hill.  From High Kop I could just see Paul at Low Kop well over a mile away. I managed a jog along here, found the right path down to Haweswater, unlike many others judging by the paths hacked through the bracken, and caught up with Paul part way along the track along the northern bank.  It was here that I finally found a stick suitable for use as a pole.  Gandalf would have been proud of it.  I certainly was.  I'd been 50 miles without the aid of my poles and there was no way I was going up Gatesgarth Pass without some sort of support, not after my experience on Wether Hill. 

I ran out of drink alongside Haweswater and was beginning to overheat again.  Having passed a couple of streams that might have been suitable for a dip I was determined not to miss out at Randale Beck so I stripped off down to my shorts and compression socks (a reoccurring theme starting here but if I took off my compression socks I was afraid of my calf muscles exploding) and got into a nice cool pool.  I spent a lovely 5 minutes splashing around much to the amusement of a lady walker just downstream.  I hope she wasn't disappointed to see I was wearing shorts when I got out (although I'm sure the compression socks were a major turn on).  

 

Me and my Gandalf staff at Mardale Head just after my dip

A steady jog took me round to Mardale Head checkpoint to clock in at 2:54 p.m.  (Just 34 minutes before Terry Conway finished over in Coniston!  Mind you, he had been practising.)

Leg 11 - Mardale Head to Kentmere (2h 30m)

I met up with Paul at the checkpoint (where one of the Army guys there had clearly neglected the sunscreen) and set off up to Gatesgarth Pass suitable armed with my staff.  Partway up I decide to customise it and snapped off a foot or so to make it a more suitable length.  Mentally and physically I found this a lot easier than the previous hill.  Going down the other side into Longsleddale the conditions under foot were horrendous with crudely cobbled tracks and loose rocks.  As we approached the turn at Sadgill the first of the 50 milers came speeding past.  "Well done lads" he said as he disappeared up the track followed by a huge gap until his pursuers turned up. 

Over the Sadgill track and onto the road we went to be confronted by a pair of fiendishly high stiles.  They were 8 foot high drystone stepped monsters which were very painful to negotiate.  It wouldn't have taken much effort to fall off one of those after 80 odd miles.   As it was we made it over them and down the lane to the Kentmere checkpoint just inside 24 hours, and 85 miles.

I felt no worse, or better, than you'd expect in the circumstances but I was in for a bit of a surprise.

Leg 12 - Kentmere to Ambleside (4h 8m)

I decided that I was sick of drinking isotonic stuff and just use plain old water from here on.  I downed a couple of glasses of water but couldn't face the food on offer: pasta and rice pudding, although I did drink one of their marvellous fruit smoothies.  The marshals at the checkpoint were clearly on the lookout for signs of heatstroke, hypernutremia and dehydration (hyponutremia).  Two of them didn't like the look of me and were clearly concerned.  I'd stopped sweating (how long ago I don't know) and my resting pulse was 110 bpm when it should have been about 40.  Paul said that the colour suddenly drained from my face and he thought I was about to have a heart attack.  I didn't feel too bad in the circumstances but I'd decided myself that I wasn't going anywhere until I got some food inside me.  So, they decided that I was dehydrated and insisted on me drinking more isotonic.  One of them, Phil, said that I should have been doing this that and the other with my fluid intake, all of which I had been doing so I don't know where I'd gone wrong.  I told Paul not to wait for me and he set off after five or ten minutes.  Anyway to cut a long story short I sat around at Kentmere sipping my isotonic for about 40 minutes until I felt like eating.  My appetite returned and I had two bowls of each.  During this time Colin had turned up.  He's a trained first aider so he kindly offered to watch me (make sure I drank and started sweating) over the next leg.  I reciprocated by offering to guide Colin (his legs were giving him jip and I couldn't bear to let him go off course again). 

By this time I'd realised my third objective (to finish somewhere near 30 hours) was long gone so I was determined to achieve the first two (to finish and enjoy it).  I had loads of time on hand so was in no great rush to wear myself out.

So, we set off and strolled up the Garburn Pass.  I thankfully started sweating again but Colin's legs were getting worse.  Coming down the other side we were caught up by Will who was doing the 50.  He stopped to take our picture then took off down the hill. 

Colin and me after Garburn Pass   Pic - Willis Meredith

He then caught up with Paul and they finished together. Meanwhile Colin and I took our time down into Troutbeck.  The 50s were coming by in a steady stream by now.  One of them came past as I was strolling along and said to me "You're looking in good form" to which I replied "That's not what they said an hour ago!".  Colin's injuries got progressively worse as we went.  Coming down through the woods above Ambleside he was reduced to a very painful shuffle and decided that he would pack at Ambleside.  I made sure that he was on the road into Ambleside then took my leave.  I'd enjoyed the rest but was now itching to get going again, especially as my family were waiting down in Ambleside.  I ran the mile or so to the checkpoint.  The clapping and cheering along the high street was unexpected but very nice if not a little embarrassing.  I ran the last couple of hundred yards with my youngest daughter Polly and our dog Phoebe.  My eldest daughter Vicky was videoing my approach just as the battery ran out!  

This checkpoint was in the Lakes Runner shop and it was roasting inside.  I was certainly sweating now.   

Leg 13 - Ambleside to Chapel Stile (2h 4m)

It was head torch time again.  Still no need for an extra top though. I left the checkpoint with my family who came as far as the cinema / last road crossing.  Vicky took my picture.  This is what you look like after 90 miles and being awake 40 hours.

"Look into my eyes"

After leaving the park I joined up with Nick Ham (the man in Union Jack shorts, who also went on to do the Long Tour of Bradwell the following week) for a while.  As I passed Skelwith Bridge Hotel who should be stood outside with a pint in his hand but the elusive Pete.  After blinding him and his lovely wife with my headtorch we had a chat for five minutes before I set off again along the river.  It was along here that I experienced my only episode of sleepiness.  For ten minutes or so I found myself dreaming of all sorts of weird stuff (none of which I remember but something about witches rings a bell).  I came out of this at Elterwater and soon (30 hours in) found myself in at the Chapel Stile checkpoint where I got a seat right next to the chimnea. 

 

Leg 14 - Chapel Stile to Tilberthwaite (3h 1m)

I availed myself of two bowls of their wonderful stews, a coffee and a top up for my camelbak.  I also swapped my t-shirt for a long sleeved top, largely because I knew I'd be freezing after sitting next to the fire. 

I'd recced this section twice before but was glad that I could just follow someone up to the climb at least.  I ended up in a group of 50 milers.  I think it was a mixture of 3 teams.  Blea Tarn came and went and we set off through the bracken.  I knew something was wrong routewise when we started going downhill rather than contouring.  I was committed by now so followed them to the road and sure enough they'd cut the corner.  I told them but they ignored me and set of down the road.  I went up the road to the corner where we should have come out (partly to ensure I'd done the whole route but also to make sure there wasn't a secret dibber there checking for cheats).  I caught the naughty ones up on the hill.  They'd taken a left on the Tilberthwaite track and were coming back as I passed the turning. 

So, down into High Tilberthwaite and along the road to the penultimate checkpoint where on spotting I was a 100 miler they gave me special treatment with a seat away from the crowds and waiting on me with food and drink. Thank you Darwen Dashers.

Leg 15 - Tilberthwaite to Coniston (1h 42m) 

The 50 milers I came down with had gone by the time I left Tilberthwaite.  I went up the steps lit up with blue glow sticks (the steps not me) and up past the quarry.  I got a phone call from Paul going up here.  He'd finished and was going to wait for me.  On putting my phone away I saw my first sleepmonster.  There was a rock and I was sure that there were two sheep sheltering next to it but they kept changing.  One minute they'd have two heads then they'd turn into dogs complete with spikey collars. Weird.  I went on my way.  The recces proved useful here. I managed to stay on the right path but was constantly plagued by more sleep monsters.  The shadows and dark puddles turned into buildings.  Near the waterfall and tree I looked across and was sure there was an entire derelict village across the stream.  This stuff continued until I hit the coppermines track above Miners Bridge.  The descent was rough but not as bad as I'd expected.  I started running once onto the Miners Bridge track, ran by the 50 milers from earlier and kept running to the finish to be greeted by cheers and claps.  It did occur to me then that I was glad I wasn't trying to sleep nearby.  That thought soon disappeared as I dibbed in for the last time.  

Objectives 1 and 2 met!            Pic - Harshan Gill

Leg 16 - Coniston to Land of Nod (1h 15m)

I'd lost a mere 3kg in weight, got no blisters or black nails and all things considered felt pretty good.  Paul sorted me out with food and drink before I went for a shower then crawled into my tent.  It was too warm for the sleeping bag so I just used my sleeping bag liner.  Two and a half hours later and I was up and dressed as I was bursting for a pee.  I stayed up, clapping in the tail enders, until my family turned up from the cottage. 

Paul (still asleep) and me

Would I do it again? Of course.  Still got to meet objective 3.

Two Birds with One Stone (BGR and L100 Training)

In an excellent piece of timing my mate Dave decided to join his clubmate Andy in his attempt at the Bob Graham Round (BGR) two weeks before the Lakeland 100.  This was an ideal opportunity for me to support Dave and get some last minute training in across Lakes terrain at the same time. 

I was working away from home in Liverpool so, rather than go home to work on Friday, I went straight up to the Lakes on the Thursday evening and camped at Castlerigg Hall campsite.  This was no random campsite choice.  Castlerigg Hall is the ancestral home of the Wren family.  My ancestors, who moved to Borrowdale in the 17th century came from here. 

On Friday I worked from the campsite kitchen and dining room which was very conveniently equipped with free wi-fi.  I had a view across Derwent Water to the Cats Bells ridge, a vast improvement on staring at a wall at home.

Dave and Andy's BGR attempt was to start at 7.00 p.m. on Friday at the usual start point, the Moot Hall in Keswick.  Coincidentally, there was a special BGR attempt taking place a few hours later.  Fred Rogerson, who founded and ran the Bob Graham 24 Hour Club for many years had died recently.  He never did the BGR himself but friends and family had arranged to take his ashes around the route in a relay to make him a special member.   We jibed Dave and Andy to hurry up if they didn't want to beaten round by a dead man.  I didn't know Fred but I'm sure he'd have laughed at that.

I'd agreed to do the pacing for Dave on leg 2 from Threlkeld to Dunmail Raise via Helvelyn.  I'd done this before on another BGR attempt but it was in the dark and rain and it was an area I didn't know well (I'd last been on Helvelyn in daylight over 30 years ago) so I couldn't promise to help with the navigation.  I then thought that I might continue for a couple more legs to make sure I'd got the whole night in. 

The evening came around and it was time to go.


The weather was kind to them on leg 1 (Keswick to Threlkeld) with just a  little mist on the top of Skiddaw.  As we were waiting at Threlkeld wondering which of the sets of head torches we could see making various routes down of Blencathra was them they suddenly appeared out of nowhere and there was a mad rush to hand over pacers and to refuel Dave and Andy. 

We were soon off up the road towards Clough Head.  As we climbed up to the Old Coach Road below Clough Head we could see the tops being covered by cloud.  By the time we arrived the weather had taken a turn for the worst.  It was just like the last time I'd done leg 2.  Howling wind, rain and low visibility.  Great.  I'd gone up in a windproof (but not waterproof jacket (although I was carrying my waterproofs).  Andy was doing a great job in navigating us.  I was following our route by thumbing the map along with my compass.  As we reached the summit at Great Dodd, Dave asked for his camera which I was carrying.  I passed him the camera and looked down to find that I only had the compass in my hand.  The wind had whipped away the map out of my hand without me feeling it, just like that trick where the guy pulls the table cloth out from under a set table without disturbing anything.  We had other maps and Dave's GPS so we weren't in trouble. 

The rest of the leg was a case of deja vu for me as we zig-zagged across the Dodds and up over Helvelyn.  By this time I was getting very cold and fearing hyperthermia.  So, we had a short stop at the shelter on Helvelyn where I put on an extra top, my waterproofs and gloves.   After Dollywagon Pike Andy took us a different way to where I'd been on my previous leg 2.  We went round the eastern side of Grisedale Tarn then straight up the side of Fairfield over a large amount of scree which slowed me down (as well as the fact I was carrying mine and Dave's gear). I lost contact with them on the way up and Dave was waiting at the top. 

I'd probably cost them a two or three minutes (which is a long time when you're standing around in a gale) but fortunately soon had chance to redeem myself at the top of Seat Sandall when they continued following the wall after the bend at the top.  I knew the summit was straight on at the bend and brought them back.

It was then a quick drop down to Dunmail Raise and our 5 hour adventure on leg 2 was over.  During the run along the tops I'd felt that I couldn't breath to bottom of my lungs.  I assumed this was somthing to do with the strong winds literally taking my breath away but a couple of days later I developed a bad cold.  Either way I knew I was in danger of holding them up so I didn't continue. 

I got a lift back to the campsite from Sarah Rowell who was driving round to Wasdale to support leg 4.  After waking up Dave's son Jack at 4:00 a.m. as he had my car keys I grabbed a couple of hours sleep then got ready to go round to Honister to support Dave on leg 5 (assuming they hadn't packed in the night due to the continuing foul weather).

I went with Jack and his girlfriend up to the Honister slate mine where we parked in their car park.  Dave and Andy were still going so as we waited we prepared various foodstuffs.  They came charging down the hill and straight through the car park without stopping.  I was chasing them with a panful of spaghetti hoops which I passed to a random stranger as I ran out of the car park.

Leg 5 is perhaps the easiest of them all.  Following a stiff climb up Dale Head it's an undulating ridge run via Hindscarth and Robinson before dropping down into the Newlands Valley (another Wren stronghold) and through Portinscale to Keswick.  As we ran along the top we could see through gaps in the cloud down into Keswick where the sun was shining.  Andy had gone ahead partway along the ridge.  When we eventually reached the valley bottom the weather played its last trick on us by waiting for us to remove our wet weather gear before pouring stair rods on us.  The sun then came out for the last couple of miles as we ran into Keswick and up the high street. 

Dave reached the Moot Hall after 23 hours and 23 minutes, the latest member of the Bob Graham 24 Hour Club. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Post Script: As we were sitting in the pub having a well earned pint later that evening the Fred Rogerson party turned up at the end of their BGR.  Here's some video footage of their round.  Dave appears right at the end (2m 54s) on the right hand side.