Late morning on Saturday and the Italian ski town of Courmayeur looks every inch picture-postcard under clear blue skies. I’ve just cleared the forest after a mind-bogglingly long & steep zigzag descent into what is the traditional half way point of the race after what has been for me nearly 12 hours of physical and emotional ups and downs on a truly alpine scale.
We’ve also had every type of weather thrown at us during the previous 78 km and some 4400m of climbing and descending, but that’s not the reason for my haunted expression: It’s because I know that my race will stop right here.
I’ve known that for the last few hours - it’s just that the Italians are not making it easy. Men, women, young and old are out on the race route shouting and clapping encouragement to the weary runners. It’s the children – the bambinos - that get to me, doing unbridled enthusiasm as only they know how. Thinking of my own boys just makes it worse and I feel the tears start to bubble. Then the UTMB race organisation works a leverage trick of their own. Every runner has their full name and the flag of their country printed alongside their number. The result is that spectators can make it personal. So I have my name shouted by smiling faces as I close in on the municipal sports complex in the centre of town which is the checkpoint. I feel a complete and utter fraud. My number is shouted ahead so that my dropbag with spare kit in can be found among the other 2299, and then the knife goes in. I’m handed it by a smiling young Italian boy not much older than my eldest: ‘Bravo, Andy!’
I have to turn away as I’m in serious danger of bursting into tears right there, and walk the final few yards into the building trying desperately to smile and wave my thanks around a very wobbly bottom lip.
Up the stairs guided by kindly Italians and into what looks like a huge mess hall where runners are seated setting new speed records in food consumption. I look for the chair furthest away from everyone and everything and make a beeline for it, As I sit down the dam bursts and the tears flow uninterrupted for what seems like many minutes. It’s taken 25 years of racing but finally I have another first: Mouncey, Andy, UTMB 2011, Did Not Finish.
It all started a week ago as I flew out early to get ready to receive the six runners I’d be coaching who’d signed up with www.alpine-oasis.com/trail-running for a week in UTMB country.
‘Andy, is this wise?’ Phil & Annie (Mr Mrs Alpine-Oasis) could, I suppose, be forgiven their scepticism.
Four weeks earlier I’d had the small matter of the Lakeland 100, then I was proposing to complete UTMB on the back of an intensive week in the mountains with a client group. While the pace over the ground would be very comfortable for me, it would be full-on in all other aspects.
So honestly? I didn’t know. And I wanted to find out. And I was OK with it not going to plan to get my answer. But I also figured a week in the big stuff would be good for the legs and the head – because adjusting to the sheer scale of the landscape out here is one of the hardest initial challenges. So I’d built a case and presented my arguments – but the jury was still out.
Before the clients arrived I had a route reccie to complete.
‘If you do nothing else then look at the final two climbs,’ said Mr Fellsman Mark Hartell. ( There is 10 in total, by the way). ‘They’re the steepest and the hardest and will make or break your race.’
I only had time for a look at the final one, and realised very quickly that Mark wasn’t kidding. It was a 700m monster all gained in 4km. Visions of grown men crying…
We had a superb week with our multi-national group of runners out and about from our base in Les Contamines on the UTMB race route. The sun shone as we introduced our folks to the joys of a glacial meltwater river bath post-run, English puddings, and a dog called Pickle. We also did some very cool running – culminating in an overnight stay at the high mountain refuge on the Croix de la Bonhomme – the highpoint of the race route.
Then on the Monday our special guest Stuart Mills www.ultrastu.blogspot.com arrived, and a greater contrast in pre-race routines you could not find.
‘Andy, is this wise?’ intermated the man who beat me by about 5 miles at the 2010 Lakleland 100.
Well, at least it gave me another chance to rehearse my argument. Heck, it sounded plausible – didn’t it?
Stu was a big hit – not least because his approach to this ultra lark is not the most conventional you will ever find and therefore just perfect for busting some limiting beliefs and kicking off an argument – er, I mean, provoking discussion.
He was asked about his strategy: ‘Go off as fast as I can while I can.’
Er, but it’s a 100 mile race, Stuart – why would you do that?
‘Cos it’s fun to race the big boys.’
I could see jaws dropping and eyebrows heading upwards, but there was no denying it, Mr Mills enthusiasm was catching.
What about stretching, Stuart?
‘I don’t enjoy it so I don’t do it – why would I do something I don’t enjoy?’
Friday morning and a bomb drops as 2300 runners receive the following text from the race organisation:
UTMB: important storm + cold weather + rain or snow. UTMB start at 11.30pm
Phil has been watching the weather closely over the last 48 hours and this is the one he’s been waiting for. Clearly the race organisation do not want a repeat of last year - race stopped 3 hours in due to awful weather – and do want to get the leading edge of the front out of the way before the race starts. But they’ve also taken the final climb out of the route in favour of a valley bottom option because the snow line is now down to around 2000m and the forecast is for seven shades of hell to sweep the high ground.
A five hour delay – so most people will do two nights then…
As 2300 race plans implode, I check the obvious first: Can I still make my flight home (??!)
And then the rest of the day is given over to Plan B. I’m quite fortunate because I didn’t have much of a Plan A to start with so there’s really not much to change other than take advantage of the additional sleep and eat time. I do, however, change to more grippy shoes. For those runners who’d done the detailed scheduling, modelling and reccie runs it was a different story – and Stuart was one such runner…
Chamonix, 1.5 Hours To Go
It’s belting down and we all wonder how busy the start will be. I recall watching here last year in packed crowds and with the whole place jumping. But 11.30 at night in a deluge?
I do the essentials and hand in my drop bag for the half way checkpoint, then Annie makes an emergency call to a friend who lives in town: ‘Joy, can we call in for a cup of tea, please?!’ Thank god she’s in, and we sit out the remaining wait time slowly steaming and dripping over her floor while checking the race updates online. Phil joins us half way through. He’s got full media accrediation this year which means he’s covering the entire race – someone else who will be pulling a two night gig.
Back outside and the square is a sea of multicoloured waterproofs. People have appeared as if from nowhere, and if it’s not in full jump mode, it’s pretty close with the bedraggled MC s giving their all to whip up the crowd. I shout into Annie’s ear ’I need to be over there!’ A hug and kiss sends me on my way to squirm through the bodies to get as close as I can to the start gantry.
I finally come to a halt about 50 yards away recalling that Stuart had said that would equate to around a 5 minute delay. If I turn my head I can see the big screen behind me which is showing shots of the front line of the start. There’s Killlian, Jez, Scott, Sebastian, Lizzy, all looking as reassuringly soaked as us mere mortals. All other movement is impossible so I try and relax and take it all in from under my hood. There’s a lot to absorb: It maybe nearly midnight in godawful weather, but the square is packed, music is thumping, people hanging off balconies, and cameras going off everywhere. And even though I’m a repressed Englishman I can’t help being drawn into the excitement…
A massive cheer, music cranked to maximum, a surge, then a stop, and we’re off – kinda. It’s stop start with bottlenecks frequent and a crowd who are going nuts. The emotion is almost overwhelming and to my astonishment I feel myself welling up as we shuffle between the barriers. I had absolutely not expected this but have some real wobbly lip moments and damp eyes as every so often a face in the crowd comes into focus and our eyes lock if just for a split second. What’s conveyed in that connection? Excitement, joy, fear, awe and…love? All I know at the time is that it is enough to move me…
Clearing the town I’m threading my way through the bodies as gaps open and trying desperately to avoid being skewered by a trekking pole. While around 50% of the elite field will use them, they are the kit choice of the majority as you go down the field. I have mine stashed and my plan is to use them from halfway. More bottlenecks as we enter the park: It’s a large and clearly very scary puddle.
Ah, so continentals slow down for puddles, obviously.
I elbow through and splash down the middle leaving howls of derision in my wake.
It takes me around one hour of running along the valley bottom to find any meaningful space between the bodies – and I thought I’d got a reasonably good start position. An hour! I try very very hard to relax and just try and ease through as gaps appear but have to own up to the fact that impatience and clostrophobia get the better of me on more than a few occasions. Straight through the first checkpoint at 8km congratulating myself on avoiding any puncture wounds, and onto the approach to the first climb which will be a height gain of 800m in 6km to the high point at La Charme.
A sharp turn then boom! straight up. This is our night run route with our clients so not only is this whole next section familiar to me, it’s familiar in the dark. I focus in on a relaxed and steady pace through the tarmac switchbacks which give way to muddy forest 4 x 4 trails. I seem to be steadily gaining ground without going into the red zone which is something to smile about as we thread our way upwards. And still people are out cheering on the course – not just a handful, but LOTS. Impromptu aid stations at the end of driveways, the noise of cowbells, entire families are out in the poring rain at god knows what hour of the night.
We gain the top and I get ready for the 7km and 1000m plunge through the forest into St Gervais in the valley bottom. It’s treacherous underfoot with much of the smaller paths now mud chutes. I bless my change of shoes and wonder briefly how many of the Europeans in their smoother shoes for the dry hardpacked trails will be getting on. I find that even being conservative and protecting my quads I’m passing folks here and there.
So it’s a happy if very bedraggled chap who trots into the first big CP at 21km to find once again the place is jumping and the soggy cameraman lining up on me is – ‘Phil!’
‘I love your work, Mr Mouncey’
‘Wonderful to be working with you again, Mr Coates.’
We indulge in a mutual grinning moment as I’m swift in and out gaining some more places in the process. I don’t register it at the time but I’m already starting to pay for neglecting my eating and drinking in this first half marathon. One of the side effects in bad weather is that you just want to get your head down and get on with it – eating and drinking become less important, not least because the sensation of sweating is missing. And I’ve been remiss.
31km and we hit the CP at Les Contamines after threading our way along and up and down the valley. I’m looking forward to meeting Annie and our runners for a boost before we hit the big desolate stuff. Sure enough there’s a smiling Annie with rice pudding and tea and an even more smiley welcome from Simon, Tiiu, Claudia and Lilly. I chow down and chat between mouthfuls realising that at last the rain has stopped but it’s definitely colder here at 1100m. A handshake with Simon, kisses and soggy hugs from the girls and I head off on the approach to the longest climb and the high point of the race, the 1500m haul to the Croix de al Bonhomme at 45km some 2500m high.
As I leave the village I half register the time on a clocktower. I’d reckoned around 3.5 hours to this point – the leaders would have been through 30-40 minutes ago – and I’m sure I see clock hands at quarter past three.
There or thereabouts then…
But I’m now very cold and it takes me an age to warm up. I realise I’ll have to stop and gear up before starting the long walk approach as the trail rises, and 4km later I do just that. On go the overtrousers, hat and gloves and out comes more food. Part of me registers the fact that I’m in France in August wearing full winter kit. Another part registers that it’s been a very slow last 4km and that I’d better tune in ‘cos there’s a big-ass climb coming up.
So I walk, eat and do my best to appreciate the stars in a clearing sky. I’m on familiar ground having brought clients here over the last couple of years so know exactly what is coming. As we clear the forest and head ever higher the landscape broadens out so that I can see a line of twinkling headtorches stretching out for miles ahead. I’m doing fine on the lower slopes but as the path steepens and I engage another gear my breathing suddenly spirals out of control and I’m having to fight to maintain my pace.
I’m both shocked and seriously uncomfortable and am forced to slow down to retain some semblance of control. Looking back on the steep switchbacks I can see I’m pulling what amounts to a train of about 20-30 people all following exactly the line I’m taking. To my amazement only a handful of these people charge past me on the steepest final part of the pull upto the col, but my attention is all over the place and suddenly I’m constructing all sorts of scenarios around packing it all in.
An abyss has opened infront of me and I’m heading straight down.
I realise the colour of the land is changing and am momentarily distracted from doing wallowing self-pity. It’s takes me a few seconds to make the connection: Snow! Fresh snow on the ground which has also lightened the shape of the mountains around us as the wind now tries to blow us off the col. This is the point of no return: If I continue from here I’m committed all the way to the next valley floor CP at 50km. And I can also turn back and retrace to Les Contamines and my own bed in our apartment. Fortunately I’m not thinking all that clearly and with most things on automatic I find my legs continue to carry me onward.
My mood is only momentarily lightened as I clock one of the Japanese runners who is clad only in a vest on his top half. Just a vest! Everyone else I can see has got full winter kit on here!
There’s a final few km of rocky traverse and gently climbing from the col to the refuge at the high point. I’d hoped to crack on from here, but am reduced to what feels like a shuffle. I have no energy for anything remotely upwards and my spirits have just spiralled.
As the world lightens around us I wander listlessly down to the refuge which marks the beginning of a 5km descent to Les Chapieux which will see us lose 1000m in height. The path is steep frozen mud and shale going down and down as far as the eye can see. Treacherous in places. Above us is a different story: Clear lightening skies start to highlight the mountains in a stunning early morning display showing off the new snowfall in all it’s glory.
But I’m still doing ‘listless.’
Two thirds of the way down I start to pick up and by the time we hit the valley floor I’ve regained all the ground I lost on the climb – but I figure some serious calories are needed and proceed to make short work of two bowls of soup.
While I’m occupied I’m also chewing over the ‘abyss’ moment. I can see nothing good from that and a suspicion grows around some very empty reserve tanks. We’ll know for sure on the next climb…
The next 40 minutes or so is the best weather window we’ll get and we are treated to sunshine on the upper slopes of Mont Blanc ahead and to our left, clearing skies and freshly snow covered peaks. I’ve shuck my waterproofs, hat and gloves and rolled my sleeves up – alittle precipitously because it’s still very cold I have to grab my hat and gloves back on before I’ve gone too far.
We’re now on the 10km and 1000m climb to the Col de la Seigne and as the weather closes in once again around halfway up, my breathing spirals and I’m reduced to a slow walk. This time even my Japanese vest-wearing friend does nothing to lift my spirits. I’m moving too slowly to generate the heat I need to stay warm so despite full winter gear on again, I am also cold. Which just depresses me even further. I can see no possible way of breaking this pattern so I can see no possible way of completing this race. I reflect ruefully that, hey – at least the experiment’s working and I’m getting some answers…
I am a truly sorry son of a b**** who shuffles over the frozen high point in what amounts to a near blizzard.
We’re now heading down to the Italian side of the Mont Blanc massif and the landscape changes accordingly. We are much closer to the towering walls and as a result it all seems much more dramatic as we emerge from the mist. I have moments when I am able to gawp in amazement at the scenery, but they are getting fewer as I do depression with more frequency.
We have one more climb to go before the long drop to Courmayeur and I realise I’ve decided: I will stop at Courmayeur. I also realise there is no lifting of spirits from that decision. I’m just too tired to care that much and anyway, there’s still a way to go.
Despite all my mental skills I can still see no way to do another 50 miles and 5000m of climbing and descending once I reach Courmayeur. More importantly, I can’t seem to make it matter enough either. I’m now paying the price for skimping the mental and emotional prep and figuring I could complete this little jaunt on what pretty much amounts to momentum. Lakeland was always my priority – this, (and the pre-race week) was an experiment. I was blasé and now it’s back to bite me.
The fourth big climb is a 500 pull upto the Arrete du Mont Favre, a 2400m high point at 69km from which we start the 9km descent dropping 1200m into Courmayeur. The only way I can see me getting over this is with poles and so it proves despite my ‘blow at halfway’ pattern kicking in once again. I make time and places yet again on the descent as we drop into Italy and beautiful sunshine. I stop for an age at the final small CP just faffing about before the steep drop through the forest into the town preparing, I think, for it all to be over. The forest is quiet, beautiful, peaceful – and I am certainly calmer when I emerge.
It’s taken me 78km & 4400m of climbing and descending to produce some answers to questions I probably had the answers to anyway – but sometimes the only way to really know is to do.
The final race distance after the route changes was longer than normal: 107 miles
The finishing rate was 47%
35 hours into the race only 120 runners had finished
The greatest % of runners finished between 40-46 hours
Short photo montage here: www.mudsweatandtears.co.uk/2011/08/29/utmb-in-pictures
Results, pre and post race interviews, photos here: www.irunfar.com
7 minute film montage here: www.youtube.com/watch?v=TFWDUsvLCoE
Jez Bragg Blog here: www.jezbragg.blogspot.com
Written by Luke Ashton - http://lukeashton.blogspot.fr/
The North Downs Way 100 mile trail run covers a 9,930ft climb and an overall elevation change of 20,000ft. Making this one of Centurion's toughest events on the calendar. Today will be my 2nd attempt in trying to complete the route.
"Beginning in Farnham at the Western end of the North Downs. The course works its way through some of the best of the English countryside before traveling through the small village of Puttenham and on to Guildford. It then continues on to Ranmore Common before the steepest climb of the race up to the top of Box Hill. The trail then drops down the other side and back up to Reigate Hill, on through Merstham to Oxted and a further 8 miles to Knockholt Pound and the 50 mile point at the outermost edge of Greater London. The course then travels on through Wrotham and Holly Hill before crossing the Medway Bridge. The final 25 miles see runners travel South East towards Dover running the majority on trails, paying brief visits to the villages of Detling, Hollingbourne, Harrietsham and Charing before dropping down into Wye and the finish"
Centurion Running
With a very early 3am wake up call to reach the start in Farnham this morning. I have my usual race fuel of half an avocado, with olive oil. Then Bulletproof coffee for the car journey.
I stayed at the parents in Horsham this time, which is about 50 minutes away. Dad is driver today and we pick up ultra runners, Shawn and Katherine from the Aldershot Travelodge along the way. Arriving in good time just after 5am.
I remember the registration well from last year, and so far there is no wait for bag check and number collection. A big hug and warm welcome from Nici Griffin, then I spot Kevin Smith. We chat about the day ahead and how excited we are to get going.
This will be my 3rd experience of the NDW event. Back in 2012 I didn't get a spot from the wait list and volunteered at Botley Hill mile 43 instead. Then 2013 I dropped with an ongoing ankle issue at Botley Hill. So this year it would be great if I make it past this spot and discover the 2nd half of the NDW....
I attach my number then drop my halfway box in the van outside. Just before the race brief I bump into Tim Lambert and meet his lovely wife Solange.
The route is very straight forward and only slight diversion at Knockhalt Pond for the 50 mile aid station, but just follow the Centurion arrow markers.
Race Briefing 05:30
A last minute toilet stop and then a short walk to the trail head start. John is outside chatting with Shawn, he said he wanted to make it for the start, and true to his word he has! Hopefully John will be able to pace me this evening somewhere along the route.
My coffee is kicking in and I am feeling pumped, ready to hit the trail. We had plenty of rain last night with the feel of thick humidity still in the air... I am only in a tech top as I know I will heat up quickly with this morning...
With Ultra runner Shawn Timmons
A last few minute pics and wishes of good luck. John says he will look out for me at Newlands Corner which is 14 miles away.
With just a few seconds to go, I make my way closer to the front pack and set my Runkeeper and Garmin at the ready...
180 runners have arrived to make the start of the 2014 Centurion North Downs Way 100.
6:00
And GO.!!!!
Quickly the runners disperse along the track as we weave in and out of lanes, gates, fields and woodlands. Memories of last year come back to me, except it is all so quiet without ultra Ian Shelley and Bill to chat to this time. Come to think of it looking around at the other runners, I do not recognise anybody at the moment.
The Trail head North Downs Way
The morning is still cool but very damp, with the humidity rather high. Already I am heating up and my clothes start to feel clamy and wet.
I stay to just under 9.00min/mile pace and preserve my energy on the climbs, then running the flat and downhill parts.
After just over an hour I take an S!Cap, which I wouldn't normally do this early, but I am sweating bucket loads already!
Good morning North Downs Way
Puttenham
Mile 7
Eventually the track leads through some woods and to the first aid station. I have enough water in my Salomon S-Lab Hydro5 pack for now, so just have a few cups of water. The team take down my number and I carry on ahead along the route.
I spot a runner in a kilt who I've seen at another race before. Turns out to be the MarathonManUk (Rob), who asked the time I planned on finishing today. When he said he has just finished a midnight marathon, I didn't think he meant today!
He is running at least one marathon every day for a year and is on day 119. I chatted some with him as we run, he said how it's been a great challenge, but now with the day job it is starting to take a toll on his body.
Sometimes the running can be the easy part...
Newlands Corner
Mile 14
Very damp, still humid and no sign of the air clearing yet. The sun is shining but it will take more than that to dry up. My clothes are soaked through.
When reaching the next aid station I catch up with John who has been waiting here for me. I refill my water bladder and take another salt capsule. I am still fueled by the coffee so just consume plenty of water with NUUN electrolytes for now.
I thank John and will see him again later.
Robert Young heads off up the trail
Navigating through fields, woods and country lanes, it all is very straight forward to follow. Either the national trail north downs marker, centurion arrows or red and white tape. The occasional orange spray paint 'ndw100' on the ground is a good guide when paths are overgrown or covered.
The markings are much clearer this year and closer together when needed. I even stayed on track this time at Martha's Hill, and only go slightly off course through a village before noticing my missed turn...
No missing this!
The air has finally cleared from the wet and the sun is heating up the ground fast. It feels dryer already and my clothes are less damp, at last...
The bright light and big clouds show an array of lush green hills with Surrey and Denbies below. The north downs are breathtakingly scenic and those steep climbs really make it all the worth while from the top.
More miles running and another salt capsule needed, 20 miles in and I am just starting to feel ready for some fuel to top up my engine. Few sips of olive oil that I carry on me is sufficient for now until I reach the next aid station.
View from Colley Hill
The route is very familiar still and after heading downhill into the woods, the chalky track leads down steep towards the A25 crossing near Denbies. I am grateful I went for the Merrell Trail shoes with this race rather than the Luna Sandals at SDW100. They are holding up well with the terrain and cushion in the right places when my feet get tired.
The path heads down the cycle lane and then under the road, to the other side and into the small car park, where the support team are waiting with refreshments.
Box Hill
Mile 24
9:12 min/mile
RANK 16
3hrs 46mins of running so far. My number is recorded and with help I refill my water bladder and add some NUUN tablets. I eat a few almonds, pecans and cherry tomatoes before thanking the team and jumping across the stepping stones over the river.
Always a beautiful site but with a nasty twist around the corner....
STEPS! Big, steep, high and uneven terrain to add to the mix. I think the one good thing about these is the huge trees that shade them. Then the views once out on the top again.
I march up them one at a time and refuse to look up until I reach the top step! Music is my way of distraction right now and seems to be working...
The stepping stones-River Mole
The views from the top are brief once reaching more woodland. The terrain is uneven with plenty of tree roots, stones and chalk. The track leads down steep and just like last year, and at the same spot, I loose my footing and fly forward, catching my fall with my right hand.
Luckily I do not hit the ground as hard as I did last time, but I've landed heavy bruising the knuckle. I worry little of it now and the legs are still mobile which is my main concern...
Steps to Reigate Hill
Dusting myself off and heading downhill with caution.
Soon enough after a few more miles I come into the next aid station.
Reigate Hill
Mile 31
Reaching 11:00, over the bridge and a big welcome of cheers and clapping from the spectators. I see my crew, Mum and Dad as I pass the cafe into the park grounds.
Number checked and recorded. Another water refill and a few cups to quench my first. Alma is here to greet me with a big hug and some cheeses and olives, as always. A Centurion event wouldn't be the same without her here. It's always good to see her along the route. I pick at a few but am not overly hungry yet.
Ultra Crew: John, Mum, Sunday, Dad and Will
I catch up with John, Will, Sunday and the folks. I swap over my Salomon flask with one of Johns, as I've had a leaking tip which is becoming so annoying and wet in my pocket. With half water and coconut water added, problem solved.
John to the rescue again!
I have a coffee with cream and try some of mum's almond nut bread (my recipe). Very nice but not my usual race fuel. Instead I eat a few scoops of my Energy Fuel that's in the crew cool box.
It's time to head off, Sunday reminds me to get moving again. I thank and hug everyone and tell them I will be reaching halfway today and feeling great!
Caterham
Mile 38
Just 7 miles later it is the next aid station. This section was yet another steep climb through the woods after Colley and Reigate Hills, but then shorter and some flat road as the route leads through Merstham village, Oxted, over the M25 and then towards Caterham.
I picked up my pace on this leg, still feeling strong and the coffee doing the trick.
Top up with salts and water. Few nuts, cherry tomatoes, bites of melon and quick chat to the team, I am ready to move on.
Photo courtesy of Hisayo Kawahara
I have memories from seeing the medic last year at this spot, ice and some worries whether I would finish or not.
I leave with a spring in my step and a confidence that I WILL finish the North Downs 100 today!
Approaching lunchtime and the sun is really warming up the air. Although It is much drier now and sweating has become less of a problem as I adjust to the more pleasant weather.
Stuart March photography
The last climb under the shaded trees rises very steep until reaching the next aid station up Botley Hill. It is impossible for me to move quickly here, so I hike up having a breather and in happy spirits I'm making good progress with no discomfort as yet...
Botley Hill-The Pirates
Mile 43
I am greeted by a warm welcome and hugs from the Pirates here. I explain how great it is to reach them after last years drop. I refill with some water and add another NUUN tablet. I'm pretty good for fuel so just have a few bites of cheese with some almonds.
Photo courtesy of Matthew Toy
Thanking the guys I head on over the road and follow the trail through another wooded area. I come across two markers for the North Downs Way, either straight on or up the steps. No centurion marker to be seen so go with straight ahead.
I soon see a marker with an arrow to the left, is this for up the steps or straight on? I am confused....
Eventually I come out of the woods and meet a lane. No footpath or markers. Damn.
I walk up the lane and get out my map for the first time today. Shortly two runners ahead walk down the lane and ask where we are. After locating us on the map, we can reach the track on the right when it crosses this lane. We should have took the steps after all.
Which way?
Once back on route it is a pleasant flat track and then mixture of fields and road until going off the route slightly and into Knockhalt Village.
I pick up the pace where I can on this section and really start to buzz that I am passed my dreaded drop point from last year! I am feeling so good right now and looking forward to the unfamiliar second half to come...
Knockhalt Pond
Mile 50
10:36 min/mile
RANK 9
8hrs and 50mins has passed. I refill my water and grab my drop box, turning down the offer of hot food from Solange who is part of the team here. I eat light when running ultra, and most who know me will understand how I can run very long hours without crashing or needing to eat. I have become very fat adapted the past year and follow a No Sugar No Grain lifestyle. Which not only stops the need of snacking but keeps my metabolism fueled in 5th gear all day and when running.
I let Sunday and Mum know I am just changing my clothes and freshening up.
Halfway point with a very proud Mum
I top up with P20 spf50 sunscreen as it can wear off with sweating. Drink some coffee with cream and eat some avocado then a few small spoonfuls of my energy fuel mix. I pack some cheese and top up my coconut water and nut mix to take along with me.
My back up ANKER battery for my iPhone is running low, so I swap that with a fully charged one. I swap my sunglasses for my PETZL head torch with another spare to carry for the night section. Then pack my arm sleeves with me.
Feeling dry, fresh, watered and fueled up again I think I am set to get moving. 20 minutes or longer has already passed.
Thanking and hugging everyone goodbye, I head on down the road and follow the diversion markers to reach the NDW again.
I have a smile on my face and a sense of accomplishment as I break the halfway point.
A few miles of small country lanes then fields before reaching what has to be the steepest and highest climb of the day. It looks like a narrow track high into some woods. I walk quickly but tire halfway and slow down. My quads burn just from walking.
What feels like forever eventually flattens out then descends very steep. Tree stumps and muddy track is very technical to navigate with fatigued legs, so I tread carefully and slowly as I can.
Otford
The track soon opens out to glorious open fields and all the colours of summer can be seen from afar. An enjoyable stretch of flat and undulating trails meets the village of Otford.
I see a familiar face approaching ahead wearing running kit. I'm so in my zone but figure It must be Allan Rumbles. We exchange a hello, he looks to be meeting a fellow runner.
Few more miles pass and now on the Pilgrims Way. Another salt capsule and plenty of water before I reach the next aid station.
Wrotham
Mile 60
Once reaching and rather tired now from the flat road section but still feeling strong, it's time for some strong coffee from the team and few nuts with melon.
I refill my water and chat to the volunteers how tough the climbing has been. Reassured that I am looking good and fresh, so it can't be all so bad.
I feel hopeful I will keep up the pace until the finish. Little words like this can really help boost the mood and spirits when needed.
I thank everyone and once set make my way down the lane for the next 6 miles leg.
Photo courtesy of Dan Skrobak (@dnna)
This section is a combination of small lanes, track through woods and fields.
Holly hill as a pleasant climb that leads out to more glorious scenery of the downs and Kent. The clouds are broken and the breeze has picked up, making the conditions perfect this evening.
View from Holly Hill
From Holly hill it is then through Birling with plenty of rolling lush green and not much else to see except sheep and goats. I really am feeling good and my body just seems to be running on auto pilot.
Some olive oil and cheese with another salt capsule is about due. I am keeping the salt levels up every 2hours and it seems to be working very well with my hydration. As the humidity has dropped I am not needing so much water as this morning.
Somewhere near Birling
Somewhere shaded by the trees is the next aid station with another warm welcome. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, but it seems Christmas has arrived with the theme here and it is a very Merry one!
Santas Grotto
Holly Hill
Mile 66
The team record my number and help assist refilling my water. I drink a few cups and nibble on some Brazil nuts and cherry tomatoes. Another strong coffee and then I take a jelly baby sweet for my sugar trickle.
Thanking the team and looking forward to some long flatter miles to follow for this next leg.
I chew out the sugar and glucose before spitting out the sweet. Just this small amount seems to give me enough to focus my mind. However I'm looking more forward to my choc covered espresso beans once I see my crew...
Upper Halling/Noth Halling
I start to spot a few other runners here and there as they slow their pace. I pick up where I can and gradually overtake, increasing my position. At a guess I am now around 15th place but not sure.
Further on I spot smiling photographer Stuart and hi five him when passing.
The miles seem to tick over nicely and although my body is fatigued I feel a sense of euphoria and high running this long. I feel alert and awake it's like a drug.
The track becomes less trail and trees as the Medway Bridge starts to approach nearer. I can see all the boats across the water. The path leads out onto the road then follows the cycle path over the bridge.
Although a great experience up high and with the view, the long endless road is rather unpleasant. I take some pictures as a distraction and keep my head down until I meet the end of the bridge..
Medway Bridge Rochester
The path leads out and onto another long stretch of road that meets the countryside, heading towards Bluebell Hill. The climb is steady and windy. It's much cooler so I put on my arm sleeves for now.
I top up with my salts and then eat on some cheese and my nut/seed mix. From the flat and busy suburban roads to the great open fields and track, it is quite the contrast of scenery on this 10 mile leg.
I enjoy my music and let my mind drift off, thinking of the finish later, and whether I can make it in sub 18 hours? checking the time it looks unlikely and I won't have a true idea until reaching 80 miles. I also need to keep the aid station stops to a minimum...
Wicham Reach Borstal
Bluebell Hill
Mile 76
Once reaching the next stop up another steep climb, I can see my crew and what looks like the Bosh flag. When in view I see it is Steve and Tina cheering me on. Along with John, Will and Sunday. I chat to everyone, perhaps a little too much, as I am buzzing with endorphins right now!
The Ultra crew tracking me down
I get my number checked in and a hot black coffee with the team.Some water and a refill to my bladder. I feel ok without the fuel for now and just have a few sips of coffee and cream that Sunday managed to track down at a nearby coffee house. I have a few olives from John and pack some more cheese.
Bosh support: Steve, Tina, Sunday and John
Sunday is all kitted up and ready to hit the trail with me from here on. It is always great to have a pacer in the later stages and Sunday has become quite the tradition at the last section of Centurion events. John was not so sure if he could pace me a few weeks ago as he had a fall, but he is slowly getting back on it again and has offered to meet me later on down the route.
Pacer ready at Bluebell Hill
Thanking my amazing friends for making the effort and the drive out to see me, I hug everyone and set off down the hillside and through the shrubs with Sunday in tow. I feel over whelmed that Steve and Tina came along again at another race and try not to let the lump in my throat develop tears.
Sunday soon distracts my mind and fatigue with all the updates of the day, Bosh runners, family and friends all send their words of encourgement. Mum and Dad still cannot get over how far I can run and in one day! It blows their mind....
21:30
Head torches now on and navigating through more wooded areas over tree stumps and rocks. I find it easier to follow Sunday, as when behind I just see my shadow and cannot see the floor. He is very good in keeping my walking to a minimum, except with the climbs and steps along the way.
The sky turns dark very quickly and the breeze picks up bringing in the rain clouds. It is due to downpour by midnight and I really wanted to finish in that time.
The route is approx 102 miles and just approaching 80, so to cover over 20 in less than three hours is looking very tight. Detling is the next stop and after this the hills with killer steps everyone dreads along the NDW route...
Almost to Detling...
We weave in and out of some fields, over styles, and country lanes. The grass becomes very lumpy and thick in places causing our pace to slow. I have my arm sleeves on now as the temperature is dropping bringing in the damp feeling again.
A few miles are left, heading along through Boxley Warren that runs parallel to the Pilgrims Way. It feels like a long way but having the company has helped as a distraction on my aching muscles.
Still feeling very alert and focused we head on out the Warren and over the A249 onto Pilgrims Way where the flags and lights of the next indoor aid station can be seen.
Detling
Mile 82
11:35 min/mile
RANK 10
I spot Will and John cheering us inside and they come in to help assist us.
Few cups of water and help to refill my water bladder, John comes to help the team. I eat a couple of nuts and top up with black coffee. Will grabs my energy mix that contains the magic ingredients to keep my strong and fat burning.
A tap on my shoulder and to my surprise Mark Griffiths is here. He was pacing but his runner dropped unfortunately so he is here to see his mum Gwen. Gwen is one of the volunteers and tells me how great she is doing going NSNG. We chat about how easy it is once adapted and what I am eating on now. She thanks me for all the recipes shared and the best of luck.
It's great to see everyone and finally meet some my followers. Sunday reminds me I have a race to run and I realise I've been chatting for too long again....
15hrs and 51mins has passed. So we head outside to make our way back on the route. Goodbyes and thanks to everyone. John is now joining me on this leg so I run along side with him.
Pacer No2 John Fitzgerald
The last time I ran with John, I was pacing him for the London to Brighton Challenge. It is good to have another running buddy and John is a natural with crew support and now it seems as a pacer too!
He keeps me focused by talking about the day and the running I have planned later in the year, which is a clever distraction. He holds the gates open and helps me over the styles. He even moves large stones and branches away from the track for me and the other runners behind us. It is as if he is reading my thoughts, but I am just unable to put these things into action, as my reactions have become slower. I just follow him one foot in front of the other. It is all surreal but very clear and sharp too.
A couple of miles along the trail and through woodland again before reaching those dteps everyone talks of at Detling.... I wish I hadn't looked up, but you do, you always do... HUGE, STEEP, BIG and wide steps leading high into the dark woods. It is an eternity into blackness. I put my head down and hike up refusing to look up again. Over more stones and tree stumps, it is actually easier to use the sides where it is smooth and no steps.
I stop half way for a salt capsule and more water. Breathing in the night air. The rain is in the clouds already I can feel it.
What feels like a huge climb actually passes soon enough and I think with company it really wasn't as bad as I was expecting, so is a bonus. We are very high up in the hills and can see the twinkling lights of Thurnham and Hollingbourne down the valley.
The trail runs fairly straight on the edge of the hills and at one stage leads round a few bends, confusing us. Apart from our head torches guiding the track below, there is no way of seeing anything ahead in the distance. We go off ever so slightly but soon realise our error.
At Hollingbourne Hill and 88 miles into the route we reach the Pilgrims Way and a long stretch of flat road until approaching Lenham at 91 miles. The road is tiresome on my legs and they ache more than when on the trails, but it is also good to pick up the pace and judt run on auto pilot...
Lenham
Mile 91
Soon enough when we see the lights and signs ahead, and just as the rain starts to spit on us, we make it into the next aid station.
Yay! our running friend Jacqui Burne is part of the team here!
We hug her and she helps to refill my water and makes some black coffee. I nibble on a few nuts and melon and spot avocado that Jacqui made up. i tuck in to some and we chat how it has been today. I joke that I need to make it in by midnight, but now know this is out of the question. Jacqui asks if I am worried I may turn into a pumpkin then treads on my toe. Which I later found out, but do not recall any of this, it is all rather blurred and like looking back to a dream.
I am sure all this running long distance is like being on an acid trip... probably why ultra running is so addictive....
John says we are ready and need to get moving, I remember that part. thanking Jacqui and all the team we head back along the Pilgrims Way towards Charring.
I can see a few spotlights ahead and slowly we see it is two runners, the first I have seen since Bluebell hill, You can tell which one is racing as he has an awkward shuffle scuffing his feet.
00:00
The road is so long and without many bends, rocky and uneven in places then a steady incline. Few miles later I have a slight lull all sudden and eat some pine nuts and coconut chips, along with another salt capsule, in the hope it lifts my spirits. I let John do the talking and just follow him...
At about 95 miles we approach Sunday and Will parked up ahead along the lane. Feeling better and a few mouthfuls of coconut water, some olives and cheese, washed down with coffee, that is now cold. I start to feel perkier again.
Sunday is happy to take over again and we will see Will and John at the finish. Almost there, but not before the rain starts. It comes down so fast and hard, I am soaked before I even get my jacket on. We say bye for now and carry on down the road.
Dunn Street
Mile 98
RANK 8
The road stays much the same and smoother. A runner approaches in the other direction to come chat with us, I am confused if he is to pace someone and still waiting or just out to cheer the runners.
Turns out he is part of the team at the next aid station and came up the lane to meet us.
Nice chap, but I cannot place his name or remember much of the conversation.
We follow him to Dunn Street the last aid station. Few cups of water and a check of my bladder in the backpack. Still plenty of water left, so I just sip on some of Sunday's coffee and a few cherry tomatoes. Really not been hungry much the last 20 or so miles and the salts and water are enough.
The rain is still coming down hard and looks to be getting worse, so we thank everyone and make a move. I want to get this finished now and quickly...
I soon forget the wet and rain, it feels refreshing and therapeutic. Until reaching more tracks in the fields and over slippery styles. The water has mushed all the long grass and it clings to my ankles, making it impossible to run smoothly.
Luckily the track leads up into more woods and the trees have sheltered the rain. It is still uneven but less of a mud fest.
I hear a rustling from the hedges and a large black and white animal scurries across my path. "OMG what the F... is that!?, Sunday shouts out from behind me. Trying not to laugh too much, I explain that it looked like a Badger and has now gone. "Good" he replies...
The Finish
Soon enough the track leads out of the woods and down short lanes before heading across more fields. The arrows mark diagonal over the field then onto a road. No signs or marker can be seen in the dark and we figure it is straight ahead on the road in front of us. What feels like a long time running we soon see the familiar white and red tape from a tree.
Up and over another field and through high brambles and stinging nettles, Sunday shouts out in discomfort as the nettles sting his legs, I feel them but not so much through my tights. I look for another track but we are so deep into the growth it is impossible to see over them.
Once out I check he is ok. The rain is some relief but not much for him.
Garmin tracked 86 miles before dead battery
02:50
Lights can be seen and signs onwards to Wye, the finish. My Garmin has already died so I cannot guess how many miles are left. I think Sunday is bored with me asking how much further do you think?
My phone gets soaked even in my waist pouch and the Runkeeper paused without me realising it.
I was expecting an endless road with houses all asleep but soon enough lights from the station can be seen and a few spectators in the road waiting. We can see Will and he runs with us to show us the way. He stops to clap once we see the Centurion flags and I run around the village hall to the finish line with a slightly surprised team waiting...
I hug Nici and it takes a moment before she notices it is me.
At last the day is over and 102 miles accomplished. I finally made it through the North Downs Way, after two years on my to do list. My 4th 100 miler to date and 5 times of running 100+ miles.
All smiles with Sunday who sees me to the finish again
It is so good to get another buckle and complete the Centurion set. A shame it is not in one year to qualify for the Grand Slam but I am so pleased I have experienced all four.
I came in 8th place in the end which was a nice surprise as my pace started to slow with all the climbing and technical terrain.
North Downs is most certainly the hardest 100 I have run but also the best with my outlook and how I was feeling throughout...
Runners high! Stuart March photography
I would like to thank all my wonderful crew and support:
Sunday, John, Will, Mum, Dad, Steve, Tina, Sam and messages from Helen.
The fantastic team and volunteers that make Centurion events even better every time:
James Elson, James Adams, Nici Griffin, Edwina, Paul, Alma, Karen, Solange and Jacqui
8th position
20:52:15
Just as we are leaving I catch Shawn who sadly didn't make it today and had to pull out.
I later found out that Andy and Kevin suffered and didn't finish.
Tim makes it to the finish completing his first 100 miler race.
Katherine finishes yet another 100 as 2nd female.
My recovery this time around was much quicker than usual, perhaps as I had the South Downs Way 100 from six weeks ago in my legs? or good nutrition and being very fat adapted?
Two weeks later I lost a small toe nail but suffered with very little blisters. My achilles on both sides became rather inflames but soon subsided.
I ran a 40 mile training run and it went much better than I though it would. I struggled some in places yet not so much as I was preparing for. it seems my body and muscles are remembering and becoming better conditioned.
Either way I really enjoyed the highs and the lows and look forward to the next 100 miles....
Long may it continue
Ultra Luke
Running Free
Written by Richard Lendon - http://richrunnings.blogspot.fr/
This promises to be a long read, so before you start I’d suggest getting a nice cup of tea and finding somewhere comfortable to sit!
I’ll try and stick to the facts, and will do a full kit review in a subsequent blog. I also will share some thoughts on why I think I finished in a later blog.
I’d entered the 2nd running of The Spine almost immediately after entries opened. In fact I think I even got Scott Gilmour (race director) to enter on my behalf – I was that keen to secure my place. Two reasons drove me. Firstly, the desire to finish this beast and secondly, I had enjoyed the inaugural event in 2012 so much.
Jenny, my wife, had volunteered to be part of the support team, so we set off together just after lunch on Friday. After a stop off in Hathersage for cash and socks, I took over the driving and drove like an excited lunatic on to Edale. We dumped bags at The Ramblers Inn and went straight over to race registration. It was great to see all the old faces (looking relatively relaxed) along with the new faces (looking distinctly nervous). Kit checked, we made our way back to the pub for a group dinner before the pre-race briefing. It was great to see Steve Thomson and Mark Caldwell again – hadn’t seen either of them since The Spine 2012.
The briefing started at 6.30. There were the usual navigation and safety briefs. John Bamber essentially told us we were going to die; there were some distinctly scared faces by now. I had felt exactly the same last year – I had been petrified in fact.
Then it was back to the pub for an early night, except I messed around with kit, shoes etc (as you do!) I actually managed a reasonable night’s sleep. Jenny had done really well to keep me relatively calm and relaxed leading up to race day – I felt that my mind and body were both in the right place, and I was quietly confident.
Section 1: Edale to Hebden Hey CP1- “And they’re off”
Race day dawned with the prospect of some early cloud but a generally clear day. After dropping our drop bags off, we all made our way up to the start line at the Nag’s Head pub.
The elderly lady who lives opposite told us we were blocking her driveway (as she did last year).
We started just after 0800 – I was first to the 1
st gate (20m) last year and I made it again!
Right from the beginning I was walking the uphills, running the flats and downs.
At the top of Jacob’s Ladder we hit some fairly thick cloud. Although we hadn’t actually said so in as many words, it was pretty clear that Gary (Morrison) and I would be tackling The Spine 2013 together. I led us across from Kinder Low to Kinder Downfall, this year on the correct route, not across the bogs! Better conditions under foot and prior knowledge of the route (we only looked at the map twice on the first day) ensured that we made much quicker time.
After Snake Pass the weather cleared and we had very pleasant conditions.
The miles rolled by. We crossed the M62 just as the light faded. I felt great. Eating and drinking well, feeling strong. Past Stoodley Pike and up to Hebden Hey (CP1), arriving at 2000, at least 2 hours quicker than last year.
Job done.
One of my major strategies this year was NOT to allow myself to think of finishing until the last section. I was treating each section separately, purely as a way to reach the next section. Every time images of finishing popped into my mind, I told them to eff off!
It was great to see Jenny at the CP. She seemed to be very relaxed and really enjoying her role as Assistant Chief-Chef! She made sandwiches for me and then everyone else, and generally mothered us all.
We wanted to get to Hawes (CP2) in good time in order to sleep and leave first thing in the morning, so after a good feed, sorting out kit and food for the next section, and foot dressing (I had one small blister), we hit the road at 2130. A long night was ahead of us.
Section 2: Hebden Hey CP1 to Hawes CP2 – “The snow comes”
Back out on the “Way” we soon caught our good friend Steve Thomson and Gary Warmington. We made good time across the moors and seemed to reach Top Withins remarkably quickly. I still felt remarkably fresh but knew the tiredness would come.
The four of us arrived at Gargrave at 0710; last year we’d got here at lunch-time so progress was really pleasing. Only the Co-op was open, but we were in luck – hot pies and pastries all round and the assistant allowed us to eat them in the shop. As we ate, we warmed up next to the pastry heater. A memorable breakfast.
Then it was on to Malham, I remember an hour of overwhelming sleepiness and having to fight to stay awake. I really hate this feeling but was ready for it, and ploughed on whilst eating lots of sweets. Gary wanted a coffee, so we stopped at a great little café just after the visitor’s centre and had a quick drink and a sensational piece of carrot cake each. In this race, it’s so important to listen to your body and just keep on eating and eating. If you see food, eat it. If you think of food, eat some.
Making our way past Malham Cove and on to CP 1.5 at Malham Tarn, the weather was still clear but dark snow clouds were moving threateningly in front of us. John Bamber was in great form in his tent – coffee, noodles all round, and a swig from his hip flask (well, it would have been rude not to!) Gary and I decided to change socks and get our feet expertly re-dressed by Olivia. Steve and Gary W left us here – they were both doing the Challenger event.
As we approached Fountain Fell, the snow began to fall heavily. It really is a drag up Fountain Fell, but then is was down the other side (without falling over this year) and on towards Pen-y-Ghent. It was snowing really heavily by now and the scramble up to the top wasn’t a huge amount of fun. It was good to see Conrad et al just off the top. I remember thinking that it wouldn’t be a bundle of laughs for anyone coming up after us that evening.
We bypassed Horton on the new route and then began the long trudge towards Hawes. We were both going well – no repeat of last year and Gary threatening me with his sticks. Nevertheless, this section just goes on and on, culminating in a tricky bit of navigation off the ridge.
We eventually made it to CP2 at Hawes at about 2200 – 38 hours after starting, with no sleep, but at least 7 hours earlier than last year. This was incredibly pleasing and we knew we could get a decent night’s sleep and be off at first light.
Job done.
Jenny and the rest of the support team busied themselves with feeding us - Jenny looked tired and had sensibly decided to stay in a B&B for the night. She reassured me that she was really enjoying herself; it was lovely to see her throwing herself into the race so much. After a hearty feed it was time for bed – well the floor on the stage behind the curtain.
Stage 3: Hawes CP2 to Middleton CP3 - “Putting last year to bed”
This was the section during which I withdrew last year so today was an important psychological day for me
We left at 0700, probably in joint 3
rd place, and it started to snow again. Mick Cooper (eventual 2
nd place) soon joined us and the 3 of us climbed Great Shunner Fell as the snow and visibility worsened. Route finding was tricky. This was an unpleasant part of the race and the ascent seemed to take a long time.
The weather started to clear once the summit was left.
The path was getting icy. Gary slipped over.
R: “Shall we put our Katoohla’s on, Gary?”
G: “Should be Ok”
I slipped over
R: “Shall we put our Katoohla’s on, Gary?”
G: “Not yet”
Gary slipped over.
G: “Let’s put our Katoohla’s on”
Mick elected to push on and we weren’t to see him en route again. We reached the bottom of the valley in Thwaite, on to Keld and then began the gradual climb to Tan Hill pub. The views down the valley were sensational – a real winter wonderland.
Reaching the pub in good time, we stopped for a compulsory feed – soup, roll and chips – and of course warmth. We set off in the light and were able to navigate the next bog section much quicker than last year – surprisingly, posts are more visible in the light! Soon we passed the reservoirs where my race had disintegrated last year. I was surprised how many fine details I could remember - where I’d put on extra layers, where I’d tried to power walk up a hill. We reached the road where I’d been picked up. Gary shook my hand. We were 135 miles in. I was now in unknown territory but still feeling strong, confident and focussed.
We made our way to CP3 at Middleton, arriving about 2200. Annoyingly the CP wasn’t well signed and we had to wander around the village hunting for a phone signal. The CP was a welcome sight and I was really pleased to get here on foot this year. Jenny, Katie and Aidan awaited. We gouged ourselves on baked potatoes, beans and cheese, followed by beans and cheese on toast. After a bit of an unwind, it was off for a well-earned sleep and a plan to leave at daybreak again.
Job done.
Section 4: Middleton CP3 to Alston CP4 – “Cross Fell”
I knew this was going to be a tough day with the long haul up Teesdale and then the ascent and crossing of the famous Cross Fell. However, Gary and I were still both going well with minimal damage and minimal bad spells so far.
We had planned to leave at 0700 but due to Gary requiring prolonged foot care by Katie and a very necessary conversation about route finding with Scott, we left at 0800. Scott joined us for a few miles, which was very positive, and said they would try and get water for us at the top of Caldron Snout. The day was clear but there were a few inches of snow, so feet were quickly wet again.
Teesdale was gorgeous with Low Force and High Force. I then had 1-2 hours of overwhelming tiredness; I just wanted to sit down and go to sleep. Fortunately this passed before we reached a singularly unpleasant boulder field where several expletives rang out. The valley widened out and reminded me of something one might see in North America.
We then reached the spectacular Cauldron Snout. Scott met us at the bottom and we positively bounded to the top with our spikes on. Stu Westfield was on hand at the top and greeted us with water and a big bag of chocolate. A Boost seemed appropriate and I stored away a couple of others!
Then started the long haul up to High Cup Nick. It was a glorious afternoon with a blue sky and strong sun. Reaching the top as the sun began to set, we were treated to glorious views. One of the real high points – High Cup Nick really is spectacular and well worth a visit.
We wandered down into the lovely village of Dufton and entered the homely
Stag Inn just after 1700. Apparently they didn’t actually open until 1730 and the chef had gone for his break. Nevertheless, they served us with a hot cafetiere of coffee and called the chef back. We essentially took over the pub with our kit and as we waited for our food I had a 15 minute power nap – I was still feeling well physically but beginning to feel very sleepy.
There then followed the most amazing steak pie and chips followed by an equally amazing slab of Dime Bar cake and custard, whilst we readied ourselves for Cross Fell.
The locals were suitably bemused by us and thought us “slightly” mad for going up there on the coldest night of the year.
We reluctantly left the warmth, and after an interesting bit of navigation, re-joined the Pennine Way. The night was clear and on the long, steady ascent of Green Fell (790m),it was beginning to get very cold. Great Dun Fell followed then Little Dun Fell. After some tricky route finding, we started up Cross Fell, the high point of the Pennine Way at 893m. I was in awe of the completely clear night, the stars and the clarity of the air. I felt very lucky to be up here on such a night – despite the cold and the wind, it was a special moment.
We reached the cairn on Cross Fell
G: “Welcome to Cross Fell, Rich”
R: “Is that the top?”
G: “Yes”
R: “So why are we still going up?”
We reached another cairn
G: “Welcome to Cross Fell, again, Rich”
R: “Is that the top?”
G: “Yes”
R: “So why are we still going up?”
We reached the summit cairn
G: “Welcome to Cross Fell, again, Rich”
R: “Whatever…..”
The sanctity of Greg’s Hut now beckoned. I had looked forward to seeing this landmark for some time. I was beginning to get a bit cold but still feeling OK. John and Paul Shorrock were there to welcome us. John served up his standard fare – coffee and noodles – and well received it was too. I was continually falling asleep by now.
We stayed at the hut for at least 1.5 hours, which on hindsight was a mistake. Although I felt warm, my engine had cooled down. On leaving, I quickly became cold and despite getting up to 8 layers and wearing my expedition mitts for the first time, I never warmed up on the long descent to Garrigill then Alston. I was falling a sleep on my feet and despite continually eating, beginning to shut down. I walked most of the way 100m behind Gary, with him continually turning round to see if I was OK. However, I strangely wasn’t too concerned at this stage. I was making forward progress, feeling mentally strong, nearing the CP, and with absolutely no intention of stopping.
After a very long few hours we arrived at the Alston CP at about 0600. Had a quick feed (on hindsight not enough) and pretty much went straight to bed.
Job done.
This had felt like the key section to me. After this section, there was only one section left before we reached the last section – if you follow my drift. This was theoretically correct but very wrong in practice as I was to find out. I was still not allowing myself to think of the finish. I was beginning to feel tired but I thought I had the majority cracked. Bad mistake.
Section 5: Alston CP4 to Bellingham CP5 (via Greenhead) – “Disintegration, regrouping, and onward”
Woke after 3 hours of sleep, which was not as much as I’d expected. I was feeling pretty tired, and the whole thing was beginning to get hard. Jenny and I had a precious 10 minutes on the sofa. We were both beginning to feel emotionally tired – I had been totally immersed in the event and fully focussed for 4 days, and Jenny had been rushing around helping everyone and worrying about me. A few tears were shed but it was a precious few minutes for us both. After a breakfast of 4 sachets of porridge and copious amounts of honey, I went upstairs to sort out my kit whilst listening to some psych-up music courtesy of AC/DC. I had a read of my
"positivity crib sheet" - I had printed out some words of encouragement from friends and a poem that seemed appropriate, and was carrying this is my rucksack.
After more food and dressing of feet, Gary and I left about 1500. I was feeling much more rested and positive again, but was somewhat reluctant to leave Jenny and the haven of the CP.
We made reasonable progress initially but navigation became tricky through endless bogs. Even Gary was getting frustrated at the terrain and poor progress, “I’ve had enough of this” – or words to that effect!
I was starting to really feel the cold. I was well layered up and still eating regularly but despite this, I could feel my energy levels dropping and my drive to continue diminishing rapidly. I was dropping well behind Gary and he was having to constantly check on my progress. I tried to call Jenny but couldn’t get through. By now I’d quite frankly had enough of this stupid race and was fighting a losing battle with mind and body. I could hear Gary speaking to Scott – he was obviously worried about me. I was initially a little annoyed (and paranoid) but Gary was doing exactly the right thing – alerting the team to a struggling competitor. He decided to get us onto the road for the few miles to Greenhead – later he told me this was to get me closer to support to avoid the complete meltdown of 2012.
Just before Greenhead, I was ready to quit. Jenny finally got a signal and rang. I burst into tears; she burst into tears.
R: “I can’t do it. I’ve had enough but I can’t fail again, I don’t want to let everyone down”
J: “You’re not a failure darling, you are the bravest person I know”
I spoke to Katie, one of the great team of doctors and as I joined the main road into Greenhead, I saw Gary had stopped by a parked car. My rescue team, my way out of this torture – it was decision time.
Naomi and Joe Faulkner were in the car. I hadn’t really met these two during the race but I probably owe them a good part of my eventual finish. Naomi assessed me as I warmed up, and Joe made me hot Ribena, soup and wraps, and some amazing homemade flapjack. I began to feel better. Options were to withdraw, carry on as planned to Bellingham (still 23 miles away) or stop the night at the YHA in Greenhead, which Conrad had kindly arranged to be opened up for us all as a possible resting point, and leave again in the morning.
I decided (or was I persuaded?) that the sensible option would be to rest at Greenhead, get a good night’s sleep and see how I felt in the morning.
Little did I know that, unless medically necessary, they’d been under strict instructions to not let me withdraw!!
I walked the remaining mile into Greenhead where Gary was already resting. I knew Jenny was rushing over from CP5 in Bellingham. Joe continues to feed me and made fantastic scrambled eggs. Gary decided to carry on alone, which was absolutely the right thing to do – he would be able to progress much quicker now. I was sad to see him go but felt I was getting back on course. It was now approaching midnight.
Gary apologised later on the race about contacting Scott – he felt guilty about ringing in without my knowledge. Gary, you did exactly the right thing – thanks!
Jenny arrived, assessed the situation very quickly (the YHA was very cold) and ran over to the Greenhead Hotel. She procured a room just as the landlord was closing up. Once in situ, I had a quick bath, ate some more and quickly fell asleep.
I woke feeling rested and ready to go onward. Jenny had left a message at the YHA for Paul Dickens and Russ Ladkin, who I knew planned to sleep at YHA, to call in the morning. Paul rang and told me they were planning to leave at 8 and that they were happy for me to tag along.
Then followed an entertaining half hour as Jenny ran around finding breakfast and bread for sandwiches. Fortunately, the breakfast things were out – I had 4 portions of Alpen with milk, which she’d had to sneak into the kitchen and search in the dark for, and even a round of toast with butter and jam. She said it was a quest to feed me and send me on my way. What an incredible lady – she was more psyched up than me, and I owe so much to her.
At 0800, the 3 of us set off for Hadrian’s Wall and CP5 Bellingham. I said goodbye to Jenny - she had to go home for the night but would come back up for the finish.
I felt really good. More than anything this was due to being away from the race for a few hours, which had given me a chance to relax and regroup mentally. I was going to finish this baby.
I spent some of the morning reading through a few of the Facebook messages of encouragement. I was simply stunned by the level of support and depth of feeling. This gave me renewed strength and was truly inspirational. Thanks to all.
Paul and Russ were good company, and they were crossing the ground quicker than Gary and I had been. We made good progress along Hadrian’s Wall – must pay a more leisurely visit some time – and arrived at Bellingham at 1500.
Job done….just!
Section 6: Bellingham CP5 to Kirk Yeltholm – “The Cheviots await”
We had a very quick turn around, eating and packing all kit for the final section, whilst listening to AC/DC courtesy of Stu Westfield,and left at 1630. The plan was to get to Byrness and bed down for the night ready to smash the final 28 miles across the Cheviots in the morning, hopefully avoiding the heavy afternoon snow forecasted as much as possible.
Paul’s wife kindly arranged accommodation for us. Apparently everything in Byrness was closed for winter but someone had agreed to open up their guesthouse, provide us with a bed and hot soup when we arrived.
The trail to Byrness involved plenty of bog hopping and trudging through forests. It quickly became clear that Russ was struggling. He’d not managed to keep much down all day and was now beginning to have significant abdominal pain. By the time we reached the forest before Byrness it was obvious that he was shutting down and unable to continue. Paul got him into the woods and into his bivvy bag whilst I rang Phil. The support team arrived after about 30 minutes. Paul suggested I push on to Byrness as the owner of our accommodation was waiting up for us.
I arrived at
Forest View Walkers Inn just after midnight and Paul followed 40 minutes later. It was lovely and warm, and Joyce, the owner, made us extremely welcome. Having taken our wet kit into the drying room, she fed us on superb chicken soups, crusty bread rolls (I had 4) and jam sponge. Just what the doctor ordered! She told us to help ourselves from the honesty cupboard in the morning, and let ourselves out! I heartily recommend Forest View for anyone looking to walk the Pennine Way.
After a comfortable night’s sleep, a shower (!) and breakfast we left at 0700. The skies were clear and we had 28 miles across The Cheviots to the finish. Just a marathon! Having done my best to not think about the finish, today visions of finishing would drive me. I was feeling good. I was well fed, carrying plenty of food and I knew that physically I had plenty in the tank. I needed to keep warm and anything else was out of my control.
We were treated to a stunning sunrise and made excellent time to the first mountain rescue hut arriving at just after 1000. We reported in to Race HQ, and after a quick sandwich and some chocolate it was off again on the long traverse to the second mountain rescue hut.
Conditions began to toughen – strong almost ferocious winds, either wading across partially frozen bogs or through several inches of snow. Snow clouds were beginning to look threatening but we made relentless progress, crossing briefly into Scotland. Windy Gyle lived up to its name. I wasn’t looking at my watch at all; we were just concentrating on continually going forwards, each step closer to the finish.
As we approached the second mountain rescue hut, the cloud dropped and we were suddenly hit with blizzard-like conditions. A tough climb through knee-deep snow to the high point of the day at 743m seemed to take forever, but I knew this was the last significant climb, and we quickly made our way down to the shelter of the second mountain rescue hut arriving at 1530. We checked in to HQ again, I signed the guest book and we treated ourselves to some more sandwiches and chocolate. My water bottles were completely frozen and Paul kindly gave me a mug of lemon squash.
Nothing could stop me finishing now. As we left the hut and approached the final climb of The Schil, the sun broke through. I told Paul that after a magical sunrise, we were now going to get a magical sunset. The clouds dropped and the blizzard started again. It was almost as if the lord of Cheviots was saying, “You may have made it through this time, but you ain’t getting that sunset!”
Coming down from The Schil, suddenly a red-coated figure approached us from behind. It was Gary! He was suffering from frost-nip/early frost bite in his fingers and was keeping lower to stay out of the wind. He was looking drawn and said he hadn’t seen anyone for 24 hours. He was moving slower than Paul and I, so I told Paul to go on ahead. Earlier in the day Paul had asked me what I would do if we caught Gary, and I had said that I knew exactly what I would do and would not, could not, finish ahead of him.
After Paul left, we had a big hug; brothers in arms reunited. Gary was quite emotional and said how pleased he was to see me. He said he was just about to fulfill his 2 goals – to become the first person to finish The Spine twice and to see me to the finish. I was really touched – a true friend. It was great to be finishing together.
We slowly made our way down the valley and were met by our escort to the finish - John Bamber, Paul Shorrock and Mist. It was great to see them and they looked equally pleased to see us – all one big family on The Spine.
R: “Paul, how far is it to the finish?”
P: “About 20 minutes”
R: “Oh……I thought it was less than that”
P: “Richard, you’ve managed 267 miles, I think you can manage another one”
Fair point.
In his blog, Paul writes, “……last years joint winner Gary Morrison accompanied by Richard Lendon – Richard had been forced to withdraw in 2012 due to hypothermia, but for him this wasn’t settling a score, it was more like completing a long journey of self-discovery”. Spot on, Paul.
The lights of Kirk Yeltholm came into view – a wonderful sight. Emotions swelled up as did pride. I saw Jenny, almost in tears, then Jessica, my daughter, gave them both a quick kiss, and then they ran with us for a few metres which is a memory I will never forget. Getting quite emotional writing this!
We ran the last few metres to The Border Hotel, the end of the Pennine Way, touched the wall and it was over. It was 1730, I had finished The Spine in joint 5
th place, 6 days 9.5 hours. And in time for tea!
JOB DONE!
A tearful embrace with Jenny, hugs all round with the entire team. I soaked in the moment, trying to absorb it forever. I was relieved, happy, grateful and so, so proud. It was an unforgettable few moments and I am so grateful that Jenny and Jessica were there to share it, as well as Ian who was chauffeuring. Into the pub and more congratulations, especially from the 2 Catalans, Eugeni (Spine 2013 winner) and Joel, great athletes and really great guys. They are elite moutain runners, having finished 10th and 16th respectively in the 330km Tor de Geants. They consider The Spine to be the hardest race they have ever done.
A quick bath, then back down to bar feeling incredibly fresh. Half pint and certificate courtesy of the landlord. Chatted then ate with Gary and Vicky; a superb supper of fish and chips followed by sticky toffee pudding with extra sauce and extra ice cream.
In the morning, I had a hearty full Scottish breakfast and we went off to the Spine HQ aka the farmhouse to receive our medals. Then it was some sad farewells and we drove home.
Thanks
I can’t thank everyone in person, But thanks to everyone who supported me and sent me messages of encouragement before, during and after the event. I was overwhelmed by some of the comments and I am so grateful to everyone.
To Jenny: What can I say? You were brilliant. You are brilliant. I simply couldn’t have done it without you. It was wonderful to share the week and my finish with you
To Gary: I could not wish for a better running buddy. It was such a pleasure to run together, and ultimately to finish with you. You are a tough, tough man. PTL – why not?!
To Scott and Phil: Great concept, great race, great camaraderie, great guys.
To all the Spine team: Just thanks, thanks for everything.
Conclusions
The Spine changed me last year, and part of me was worried that it couldn't ever be the same, that it was a one off. But this year was even better, not just because I finished, but also because I really lived. For 6+ days I was at one with nature and with myself. Life was simple, beauty was all around, the air was fresh and my senses were really heightened. I was alive.
I still find it hard to believe that I travelled 268 miles by foot, in the winter, in less than 6.5 days – over 40 miles per day. I am in total awe at the strength of the human body and mind, particularly when they are in the same place and working as one. Mine diverged for a few hours on Wednesday night when it felt as though my race was disintegrating, but I have never felt so alive, so at peace and so as one with the world as I did all of last Friday - the day I finished The Spine.
The Spine truly is an epic event. It sucks you in, drains everything you have - physically, mentally and spiritually. Just when you think it's broken you, you find a new level of strength that you didn't know existed. I feel very lucky to have been involved twice, and I will be back again 2014, either running (ouch) or as part of the support team.