Written by Stuart Little - http://runningawayfromroads.blogspot.co.uk/

BGR - The Preamble

 
First a warning: If you want to read my account of my BG itself, feel free to skip this blog and wait for the next couple. Before I write those though, I wanted to have a look back over my training and approach over the last year more so I can learn what I did that worked for me, and take the “good” bits of that approach and use them for myself in the future, but also the athletes that I coach at the club.
 
Whilst the Bob Graham was something that I’d thought long and hard about since I first followed (and supported on) Dave A’s round, I’d never quite been able to see how I could get myself into the required shape to succeed. This was largely due to a series of injuries, and being rubbish on rocky terrain. As a result, it had sat as an idea in the back of my head for a few years but had never gotten past the point of daydreaming.
 
Over those intervening few years, my enthusiasm for my own running was on the wane, and to be honest it was only the enjoyment I got from coaching that was keeping my own running going. Having got to the point of frustration, I decided that I needed some clear goals to try and re-engage with my running. With this in mind, I sat down with a piece of paper and tried to write down ideas of what goals might rekindle my love of running. Having expected a reasonable number to appear, I was a little surprised to discover just two, the most exciting of which to me was to complete a Bob Graham Round.
 
Having established a BG was something that might rekindle that fire, I next needed to understand how I could get my injury prone body to the required fitness levels. After a convenient chat on my CiRF course one of my tutors made the point that what was required was a period of strengthening to address the imbalances before beginning any serious training. Having no idea on these things, I turned to the excellent Duncan at Beverley Wellbeing to both assess my current mobility levels and, after he’d finished laughing at my inability to squat, set me a program aimed at improving my functional mobility.
 
Even with my mobility noticeably improving, I was still unsure that I could train for something long and hard without breaking down, so after much thought, I decided that I would plan for a late August BG attempt with a big trip in the early part of summer. In that way, mentally, I could tell people that I was training for something other than a BG until I knew that my body was capable of taking the training.
 
Having trained for a lovely club trip along the WHW in early May, I started to make serious plans for the BG training. Fortunately the training plan was very simple.
 
Put in as many big days as I could, with as many as possible on Lakeland terrain.
 
In between these, keep doing the strength work and do what I could to increase my hill fitness (i.e. hill reps, treadmill at up to 30%, stepper, etc)
 
The big days were all memorable in their own ways, but the most memorable for various reasons were a trip on the Kinder Killer route that ended up with me picking up a stomach bug, cramming 8000 ft of climbing into the Malvern hills by 11 am, and my last long run pre BG taking in most of legs 3 and 4, that ended with me covering 35 miles / 15,000 ft and feeling as fresh as a daisy. It was through these long days that I taught myself to eat on the run, learnt to deal with the ups and downs of long runs and slowly improved my ability on rocky ground, quite aside from the fact they were all enjoyable of course!
 
Looking back in the week before the attempt, I realised the plan had been executed pretty well, I pretty much hit the oft mentioned 40 mile / 10,000 ft weekly target as an average over the 15 weeks, but as that included 9 days off ill, the “good weeks were better still. More psychological fuel was created by noticing that at some point on the round itself I’d go past the 250,000 feet of climbing in 2014 mark.
 
With my body fit and the belief getting stronger, before Friday evening, it was simply a matter of finalising all of the logistics, buy the last remaining food items required, panic that it wouldn’t all fit in the car and hire a van, pack some more stuff, fret a little more, fail to sleep enough, sit in a traffic jam on the A66, fret a bit more, put the tent up, and worry that everyone would turn up.
 
After that lot, I slept surprisingly well and woke up bright and breezy on Saturday morning. After popping into Keswick for a waterproof pad and a BG map, not I hasten to add for navigating by but for my supporters to sign as a memento for me! To ensure I was fully fuelled, I then headed to the Saddleback for an athlete’s breakfast with Kate Jen and Craig who’d done parkrun. The rest of the day cane and went in a blur of rearranging kit, trying to sleep, failing to sleep, chatting to supporters, trying to nap, and failing to nap.
 
Soon enough though, 8 o’clock rolled around and it was time to kit up and head to the Moot Hall for some final panicking before the off. Seeing that many people turning up to see me off was a real goosebumps moment as they were all giving up their weekends to help me achieve my dreams. After chatting to as many as possible, it was soon 8:45 and I was itching to go.The last 15 minutes felt like an eternity – something that can be seen on my facial expression in the group photo before the off.

 

 
 

BG Leg 1 - into the night

 
At 8:45 pm on Saturday, I was enjoying the conversations with my support crew and, even as someone who is rather introverted, enjoying taking centre stage. By 8:50 however, I was a bag of nerves and a series of questions kept popping into my head: Why did you pick late August; A long night stint is a daft idea; Are you really ready for this; How will Kate cope with looking after the road support teams having never done this before. After driving myself mad for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only two minutes, I realised I needed to take myself off and sort my head out before the off.
 
When I did, the answers were crystal clear.
Why did you pick late August? It was the timing that best suited *me* and allowed me to get the training in that I wanted to beforehand without feeling rushed for time.
A long night stint is a daft idea; You have two excellent headtorches, one for each leg. You even enjoy running at night. Man up
Are you really ready for this? Yes, you’ve put the work in now go and enjoy your day like you said you were going to.
How will Kate cope with looking after the road support teams? Brilliantly, she knows what’s needed at each one and what I’ll likely be after to eat and drink. All the others at each point will be more than willing (and able) to do a sterling job.
 
Having convinced myself that it was simply paranoia, I came back from my quiet moment in a completely different mindset. Rather than questions, I now only had thoughts that would help - namely put one foot in front of the other, keep eating and drinking, think only of the next peak and try to have a brilliant day out with my mates. I was ready.
 
After a little more waiting, it was time for the off (well I was still waiting for my watch to tick towards 9 when Kate (whose watch was the “official” start / finish timer) pointed out that it was 9 and “shouldn't you be going?” At which point my 4 pacers, Greg Martin, Bill, and Steve accompanied me down Keswick high street and towards the fells.
 
 

Having left the town centre, it was a simple case of settling into a rhythm as we crossed the Greta and cruised through fitz park before joining the track up the flanks of Latrigg before heading up the motorway to the top of Skiddaw. Despite a brief moment of ineptitude from me when I stopped at the shelter rather than the trig, a very comfortable trip up Skiddaw was complete more or less on schedule.
 
Dropping off Skiddaw, we headed a fraction south of the desired line, so started descending the rock rather than the grass to the fence post. No matter as this was quickly rectified and we were soon heading to the very boggy valley floor and across the path to Skiddaw house before heading up the flanks of Great Calva. At the summit we were close enough to the schedule that there was no concern and headed back towards the fence crossing where Bill was helpfully lighting the way.
 
Not wanting to do anything daft in the dark, we took the safety first approach of following the fence line down the descent to reach the gate before following the trod towards the Caldew. It was somewhere on this section that I was attacked on the shin by a bear.* I was rather nervous of looking at the damage as it felt like it might be a serious gash, and the concern in Greg’s voice was noticeable at this point. Fortunately though, it was just a lumpy bruise and a graze.
 
Panic averted we headed to cross the Caldew, which was only knee deep (for me at least) and set off up the trudge over Mungrisdale common towards Blencathra. I passed the time on the climb by eating, drinking and worrying as I started to feel the first twinges of cramp in my calves and hip flexors. As this hadn’t occurred on any of my previous recces, I was rather surprised but thought I may as well get on with it and trudged on up.
 
As the top was approaching, the mist rolled in and a minor bout of summit wandering ensued, no bother though as the top was reached more or less on schedule and my thoughts turned to the corned beef hash and warm welcome that hopefully was awaiting me in Threlkeld.
 
Having enjoyed wandering in the mist so much on the way up, I thought I’d add a little bit more unnecessary rambling, but that was soon rectified and we were off on the correct route down Doddick fell. The descent felt reasonably sensible, but chatting to my supporters it may not have felt that sedate for some. J
 
As we reached the path at the bottom of Doddick, the cramps were coming with more regularity, and upon a little bracken bashing to try and reach the gate, both hip flexors locked in pain. At this point I may have sworn. As the cramps eased I knew I needed to move, but more pertinently, I knew that at that moment I had to make a firm choice in my head to keep going no matter how bad the cramps may get until it either passed or I reached the end. Decision made, and fully focused on the job at hand, I then hobbled my way towards Threlkeld.
 
As we crossed the A66 and headed to the care of my waiting support crew of Kate, Roger, and my mum and dad, the last of my concerns vanished as I was treated to a formula 1 standard pit-stop where I was fed, watered, and exchanged some kit in a super smooth fashion and was soon ready for the off.
 
Splits for interest (Scheduled times in brackets)
 
Skiddaw                     81        (82)
Great Calva                46        (44)
Blencathra                   70        (68)
Arrive Threlkeld          34        (35)
Leg time                     3:51     (3:49)
 

*rather than a bear, it may actually have been a pointy rock in a hole that I stupidly fell into.

BG leg 2 - Getting tougher now

 
After a feed and encouragement from my support crew, I set off on leg 2 with Adam, Helen and Steve who was doubling up legs 1 and 2. As we climbed up the road and then the base of Clough Head, my legs were easing and the cramping had eased. Soon enough though, we were on the steep bit of Clough Head, and the occasional twinges returned to my quads.
 
Soon enough we crested the ridge, and my legs started to ease with the shallower gradient. Predictably though, the ridge line greeted us with a face full of mist. In spite of this, we managed to make decent progress along the first few peaks of Clough Head, Great Dodd and Watson’s Dodd.
 
Sadly on Stybarrow, we made the first small error of the leg and managed to skirt the unseen cairn and were soon descending without having visited the true top. No matter, a quick about turn and the four of us fanning out soon located the top and we were back on track.
 
As we trundled towards Raise, at about 3 am, I started to have my first real bad patch of the round. Nothing I could eat was sitting at all well and I started to feel very flat. Fortunately (in a way) this is something that I’ve had every time I’ve ever run through the night and was comfortable it would pass at some point between now and dawn.
 
As can be seen by the splits, this section was all over the place compared to the schedule, and I suspect most of this is due to alternating between a trudge and a quicker trot to try and warm back up on the very cold ridge. Aside from picking up the bonus top of High Crag, the nav was spot on and we were soon descending to Grizedale tarn.
 
 
As I descended the tarn, a triple whammy of getting warmer, waking up slightly and being able to get a mars bar down meant that I was feeling cracking as I reached the col before Fairfield. Leaving Helen and Steve at the col, and shouting my food requirements to Adam, I set off up the path at a decent clip. Fortunately, about halfway up I realised that I was working very hard (which probably explains why Adam was struggling to bridge the gap!) I limited the damage by stopping, waiting for my food and drink and letting my heart rate return from the stratosphere.
 
 
Disaster averted, I tagged the summit and returned back to the col, before heading straight up Seat Sandal, which came a little easier than usual, though the cramps returned on the steep section. Over the top, we started descending on the grassy run down to the steep bit. As it steepened, the cramps were coming thick and fast, though fortunately none stopped me in my tracks.
 
 
Soon enough, we could see the cars at Dunmail and headed towards them. The descent was mostly uneventful, though the unplanned transition from following the trod with a high powered beam, to seeing it in the pre-dawn light as the batteries ran out was a something of a challenge for my eyes. Once adjusted, there was no damage done, and I continued on my merry way to the cars and my breakfast.
 
Once again, my support crew, this time of Kate, Roger, Jenny and Craig, were ready and waiting to deliver a super smooth change, only slowed by me forgetting essential items (like a new pair of gloves) until just before I was trying to leave.
 
 
Splits for the interested (Scheduled times in brackets)
 
Clough Head                50        (55)
Great Dodd                  32        (29)
Watson's Dodd            12        (9)
Stybarrow Dodd          14        (9)
Raise                            21        (17)
White Side                   11        (8)
Helvellyn Lower Man   15        (17)
Helvellyn                      7          (6)
Nethermost Pike          13        (10)
Dollywaggon Pike        15        (12)
Fairfield                       41        (41)
Seat Sandal                 20        (24)
Dunmail Raise              25        (22)
Leg Time                   4:36     (4:19)

BG Leg 3 - A new day

 
After a quick feed and a change of tops, my new support crew of Brian, Ryan, Kev and Paul set off up the steep slopes of Steel Fell in the lovely soft light of a mountain dawn. After a couple of minutes, I became aware of a commotion below as Adam (apparently) had decided he’d try and sprint up steel fell with the jam sandwich I’d left at the cars. Unsurprisingly, his sprinting was short lived and I decided that I had enough food in the supporters’ packs, had a little laugh and trudged on upwards.
 
 
About halfway up the climb, the cramps returned yet again to my hip flexors, but after a brief pause, we were soon cresting the top of the slope and were cruising towards the summit, with a couple of minutes gained on schedule.
 
The next few peaks were all ticked off more or less on or above the scheduled pace, with only the occasional pause to admire the stunning dawn. On this section, my legs seemed to perk up a little and I was taking little chunks out of the schedule, was eating well and most happily wasn’t cramping. As such I tried to make a little hay while the sun shone, and had taken 6 minutes back out of my schedule to this point.
 
 
 
 
After Pike of Stickle, I noticed that I’d stopped chatting and it was getting a lot tougher. It was around here that I discovered the truth in many completers accounts of this section being where things got serious and the enormity of the remaining task became clear. No matter, just worry about the next peak and keep the legs moving.
 
By simply worrying about putting one foot in front of the other we were on top of Rossett Pike, took a moment to enjoy the magnificent view down towards the Langdales. From Rossett, it was down and soon back up the precipitous sloped that make up the direct route up Bowfell.  Once again, as the ground steepened, my hip flexors started to hurt again, and progress was slowed a little, but soon enough we crested the summit plateau and headed up to Bowfell.
 
With Bowfell comes the rockiest tops of the round, and despite plenty of effort over the last few years, I’m still poor on this terrain. As a result, the schedule was very generous for this section (for most!) but I managed to stick more or less with it to Scafell Pike. It was on this section that I saw the first few people (that weren’t supporting me!) in 13 odd hours.
 
It was on the steep bits of this section that I realised that the cramps appeared to be passing. This was good, but left in their wake some serious stiffness and a bit of pain from the affected hip flexors. This was bad. Still, it just gave me something slightly different to worry about while I carried on regardless. It was around this point I committed to taking drugs at Wasdale if it didn’t ease.  
 
 
Leaving the only slightly busy Scafell Pike, we trotted down to the stretcher box at Mickledore before heading down to the entrance of Lords Rake. Despite the legs occasionally requiring my arms to lift them to them up the larger steps of the rakes as my hip flexors were really not happy, the rakes were reasonably enjoyable, and the views were simply stunning from the rakes.
 
 

 
Soon enough, we were reaching the summit of Scafell only 3 minutes down on my leg 3 schedule. All of that time, and a couple more minutes were found as I persuaded my now rather pained legs into an easy trot down the 3000 foot descent to Wasdale. On this descent, Brian was brilliant and managed to come down slowly enough to act as a sensible hare for me, but still got me moving again at a moderate lick.
 
 

 
 
 
As we crossed the river and descended towards Brackenclose, it was time to slalom around the bank holiday crowds going up and headed to my wonderful support crew, this time of Kate, Helen, Mum, Dad and Pete. Unbeknown to me, they’d all been plotting on the Saturday while I’d been trying to rest and had arranged a banner for the support car that did a fine job of cheering me up just before the now standard super smooth pit stop and lunch.
 
 
Splits for interest (Schedule in brackets)
 
Steel Fell                     21        (24)     
Calf Crag                    21        (19)     
Sergeant Man              33        (34)     
High Raise                   9          (9)       
Thunacar Knott           12        (15)     
Harrison Stickle           9          (10)     
Pike o Stickle              14        (12)     
Rossett Pike                45        (44)     
Bowfell                       39        (37)     
Esk Pike                     26        (26)     
Great End                   29        (26)     
Ill Crag                       17        (18)     
Broad Crag                12        (14)     
Scafell Pike                14        (14)     
Scafell                        42        (38)     
Wasdale                     30        (35)     
Leg Time                   6:13     (6:15)
  
More of Brian’s excellent photos can be found here:
https://www.flickr.com/photos/16716009@N03/sets/72157646842288345/>
 

BG Leg 4 – just a little bit further

 
The support point at Wasdale was cause for my first sit down in a little over 15 hours. I’d deliberately avoided sitting down before now as I didn’t want to stiffen up, but now it was time to give my ever suffering wife the opportunity to swap my shoes and clean and regrease my feet – I certainly know how to treat a lady!
 
Having chosen the least comfortable looking option, much to the annoyance of my crew who had laid everything out next to a comfy chair, I swapped my shoes and socks, had another bowl of corned beef hash and popped down a couple of ibuprofen. With all my support needs covered, it was onto my feet and time to leave.
 
 
 
 
Leaving Wasdale with my entourage of Rich, Nigel, Adnan (who had supported a paddy the day before), Paul and Ryan, we headed towards the gate at the foot of Yewbarrow. I’d deliberately tried to avoid looking at this climb until I got there as it has a reputation for being a brute, but, for once, the steep face didn’t look too bad. The climb itself was predictably tough, but Rich’s constant reassurance that it was okay to stop and look at the view periodically got me through, and soon enough we were at the summit just inside the generous schedule.
 
From Yewbarrow, the route descends a short way before climbing up to Red Pike, and this climb is often described as the worst bit about Yewbarrow. With sun on my back and good company, progress was reasonable, and we hit the summit more or less on schedule. Trotting off Red Pike towards steeple, I noticed that the pain in my hip flexors had lessened and decided to enjoy it until the drugs wore off.
 
With slightly looser legs, Steeple was ticked off ahead of schedule, with the views from the top being truly outstanding looking into ennerdale. Back along the ridge and on towards Pillar where I enjoyed climbing for the first time in a good fee hours, and hit the reasonably busy top inside the schedule.
 
After a couple of good peaks, and moving well, I allowed my mind to wander to how doable this now was. As it happens, this was a very bad move as I had a huge bad patch going up Kirk Fell that caused me to start on the gels for the first time on the round. 2 gels and some sweets on the climb dragged me to the top 7 minutes down on this leg, and my mind was soon refocused on just how much work was still to do.
 
 
 
Another gel and most of a packet of snakes was forced down on the way to Great Gable, and all that food and a renewed focus on taking one peak at a time powered me up Great Gable 5 minutes ahead of schedule. After taking in the majestic views from my favourite Lakeland mountain, we trotted on towards the remaining peaks on the leg.
 
Green Gable, Brandreth and Grey Knotts were ticked off more or less on schedule, and as we descended to Honister, I reflected on how far I’d come, and how well I’d come through my bad patch on Kirk Fell. As we were more or less back on schedule at this point, and my legs were feeling a little better, I couldn’t help but wonder about how quick I might be able to complete the round from here.
 
As I descended to the large mob that now passed for my support crew, I was clear that I was going to have a very fast stop since I didn’t want to get sucked into gossiping with my entourage. It was time to get this finished.
 
 


Times for interest (scheduled times in brackets)
Yewbarrow      47        (48)
 
Red Pike         49        (48)
Steeple            18        (21)
Pillar                31        (33)
Kirkfell             55        (48)
Great Gable    40        (45)
Green Gable   17        (18)
Brandreth        16        (17)
Grey Knotts     10        (8)
Honister           13        (13)
Leg Time         4:56     (4:59)

BG leg 5 - This should be a doddle now

 
As I said, I’d decided that I was having a very fast stop at Honister partly because I was getting interested in finishing time, but mostly that I rather fancied hanging around for a while to say thank you to my wonderful supporters. In retrospect, I should have advised my leg 5 supporters, Paul, Adnan, Jenny and Craig, as they seemed a little unprepared as I had a quick drink before declaring that I was off.
 
The slog up Dale Head was surprisingly straightforward, though the jam sandwich I was trying to eat proved impossible and half was eventually discarded. Clearly, “real” food was now a no go so it’d have to be gels, snakes and the sports drink to keep me moving.
 
 
 
Soon enough, we were ticking off the last major climb of the round inside schedule and I started to dream, was sub 23 now possible? Certainly if I could hold my schedule I should be close. Halfway to Hindscarth, I had another little wobble, and, after a couple of snakes and another talking to, I vowed to keep taking this one bit at a time and we continued up to Hindscarth bang on schedule.
 
 
Running down towards the final climb, Robinson, the reality that this was going to happen hit home and I may have got a little grit in my eyes. After I stopped being soft, we cruised up to the 42nd peak, and soon I was at the top inside schedule. After allowing myself a little smile, posing for a couple of pictures (including this special celery based one for Andy!) and surveying the whole BG route in front of me (it looked a bloody long way!), it was time to first get to the road and then to Keswick.
 
 
 
In good spirits, I started to jog off the summit plateau but after about 100 meters I became aware of some serious pain brewing on the inside of my legs. As ever I tried to ignore it, but the first time I needed to move laterally I was suddenly at the edge of being sick with the pain. All of a sudden, my straightforward victory jog to Keswick had become a rather more serious affair. Still, at least the views were good.
 
 
 
Having struggled down the ridge from Robinson, I was, eventually, onto High Snab Bank. At this point, I established that running in straight lines was just about manageable, and came   to the agreement with my support crew that I’d try and run anything that I could in a straight line and pick through anything laterally. This approach at least got me to the road, but it was now going to be tight for time unless I got moving again.
 
After changing into my road shoes, we set off on the bit less than 5 miles to the Moot Hall. I don’t remember masses about this section, other than (a) it hurt, (b) all of my landmarks on route seemed to take ages to arrive, (c) my coaching advice of drive your arms back to make your legs move does seem to work no matter how tired you are, and (d) it hurt.
 
Eventually, I reached the mini-horde that was waiting for me at the end of the path along the Greta. Suitably cheered up, we turned on the road, over the bridge, past the Saddleback (where I was planning to eat the menu the following morning), and up to the island. At the island, I had a glance at the watch and realised it was at least possible to go sub 23:30 if I got a wriggle on.
 
Deciding that I wanted this done quickly, I took off at a rate that may have shocked some of my support, took in a few more cheers as I ran up the high street, had a little bit of pain related shouting and didn’t stop until I hit that green door.
 
I looked down at my watch, it was 8:27.
 
23 hours and 27 minutes after I’d set off, it was done.
  

 
Splits for interest (Scheduled times in brackets)
Dale Head                    34        (35)
Hindscarth                   18        (18)
Robinson                     25        (25)
Keswick Moot Hall     115      (85)