Written by Andy Mouncey - http://www.bigandscaryrunning.com/

 

‘Bravo!’

‘Courage!’

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!’

Oh, Jesus…

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.

 

Is This Wise?

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.

 

Taking A Look

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… 

 

The Week Before

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.’

It’s fun??

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?’

Pause. Fair point.

 

Bombshell

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.

 

30 Minutes To Go

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 KilllianJez, 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…

 

Go!

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.

What the..?!?!

Ah, so continentals slow down for puddles, obviously.

I elbow through and splash down the middle leaving howls of derision in my wake.

Unbelievable.

 

The First Climb

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.

 

Into The Abyss

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.

Bloody hell!

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.

 

Brighter, Briefly

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.

 

It’s Just Not Working

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.

 

Full Stop

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 Bigger Picture

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/

On Good Friday, 22 intrepid ultra-runners began to converge on Hull for the start of the 3rd running of the Viking Way Ultra; 147 miles in 40 hours, from Hull to Oakham.
 
It was great to see so many familiar faces at race HQ, Premier Inn Hull West, in the evening – Mark and Alex Cockbain, Riccardo Giussani, Ben Davies, Jon Steele and Shirley Colquhoun, Allan Rumbles, Colin Fitzjohn, Andy Horsley, Cliff Canavan-King. Many others I knew by reputation.  After a communal dinner and with the race due to start at 7am, we all settled down for a good night’s sleep.
 
Or so we thought.
 
We were to woken to fire alarms just after midnight. Personally, I ignored them, although I did immediately think of the conch shell which is blown to announce 1 hour to the start of the legendary Berkley Marathons. The alarms sounded again and we were told to evacuate the building. Great.
 
I decided that the only tactic was to remain cheerful and see the funny side. After all Mark does call his events “The Hard Stuff”. In fact we wondered whether he had arranged for the alarms to sound just for a laugh! Some of asked if we could start now!
 
After over an hour outside in pajamas in very chilly conditions, we were finally allowed back to our rooms. For a final hurrah, the alarm sounded a few more times before allowing us to sleep at around 01:30.
 
At 5am, my alarm sounded. I didn’t feel like I’d slept at all. At least I’d be getting an early night that night. Oh, that was it….I wouldn’t be getting any sleep at all.
 
Viking Way 2014 
 
We sauntered down to the start and soon enough we were off on our journey. I started very steadily, having a good chat with Jon. Before long I found myself in a lead group with Ed Catmur, Luke Ashton, Cliff  Canavan-King and Andy Horsley. Cliff and I nattered away, whilst the others could barely get a word in edgeways.
 
Soon we were at Bilby, CP1, at 15 miles. Ed appeared to eat his body weight. He is very fast (15:44 at NDW100) so I decided to copy.
 
 
The next couple of legs through the Lincolnshire Wolds are the prettiest and most interesting part of the route with a few hills. Please bear in mind that the high point in Lincolnshire is the imaginatively named Wolds Top at 168m so I use the word ‘hill’ in that context!
 
Cliff, Ed and I seemed to be running fairly much together as we approached Tealby, CP2, at 30 miles. Luke was ahead of us but must have gone wrong as he entered the CP just after us. He was soon through with Cliff & I following.
 
Apart from pausing briefly in Donnington-on-Bain for a very therapeutic ice-lolly, we kept up a good pace through to Fulletby, CP3, at 50 miles. Here we had access to drop bags so we had a longer stop, changing socks and picking up gear for the night. Mark had outdone himself this year, providing hotdogs, rice pudding (with jam to accompany) and even cream eggs. Real Cadburys ones too, not home brand!
 
Living the dream!
Replenished it was down through Horncastle and then the long, flat, straight run to Woodhall Spa. Just before Woodhall Spa, I began to feel very tired and lethargic. I knew I had been eating and drinking well so thought it was one of ‘those phases’. Coming out of the town, I suddenly felt very lightheaded, and strangely emotional and tearful. With the next checkpoint only a couple of miles away, Cliff pushed on to warn them I was struggling. 
 
It was time to call Jenny!
 
Jenny and Jade were on their annual Easter break; this time touring Ireland. Jenny was driving but Jade was amazingly supportive and generally lovely. Our 2 girls really are wise beyond their years. Jenny pulled over and gave me some loving advice. With my resolve strengthened, I made my way towards Stixwold, CP4, 64 miles.
 
The checkpoint was manned by Drew Sheffield and Claire Shelley and well stocked with goodies. A couple of hot cross buns with lashing of jam seemed to work wonders, so I guess I must have been a bit low on fuel, or perhaps it was just the sugar hit. Or perhaps it was just one of ‘those phases’.
 
Off I trundled towards Lincoln. On the section towards Fiskerton I managed to go completely the wrong way. It was absolutely ridiculous to go wrong here as I live in Lincoln and know this bit like the back of my hand. Fatigue, pure and simple. Not wanting to end up back in Bardney, and seeing headlights, I opted for the cross-country route to the road. Lincolnshire really is very flat and featureless so although I was fairly sure where I was, I decided to wave down a car and check that I was actually still going in the right direction. Amazingly the first vehicle to pass was Mark and Alex Cockbain – I was on the road to Fiskerton. Happy days.
 
Back on route, I made my way along the 2.5 miles of riverbank, to CP5, just before Lincoln, 81 miles. A cheery welcome was waiting and I was soon on to Lincoln where it was great to see my son, James, who had come out after midnight to cheer me on. This was so good of him and it really lifted my spirits.
 
I really do know the next section well which is good because I can't remember much about it. I do remember the temperature dropping markedly. However, I arrived at Wellingore, CP6, 96 miles at 03:40. This was an almost identical time to when I had done the race in 2012, but I was in much better shape. In 2012, Mark had had to virtually force me to continue but this year he just told me that one of his goals for the race this year was to see me finish which meant a huge amount to me.
 
I was surprised to see Cliff here. Apparently, he had come into the CP with Luke, but had been passing blood in his urine and was in a lot of pain. He wasn’t sure if he could continue.
 
It was getting really cold now. Drop bags were available for the final time before the finish so I grabbed my veteran Montane Fireball smock and took plenty of time making sure I had everything I needed for the rest of the race. I had packed individual mini-bags for the 2 drop-bag CPs  with food, electrolytes, kit etc. This made life a lot easier. I also changed shoes and socks. After a good feed, and another cream egg, I was ready to go.
 
Cliff then decided he was going to come with me. I wasn’t sure that he should from a medical prospective but I think we both wanted the company. I was getting quite cold so we were quickly off.
 
 
Dawn soon came which always lifts the spirits but unfortunately, after crossing the A17, Cliff was obviously struggling and in a lot of pain. He made the sensible decision to stop. I was sad to leave him; he was great company and we’d been getting on really well.
 
I then steeled myself for the trek to the next CP at Foston. I was getting really cold and was shivering a lot despite base layer, t-shirt, OMM Cyber smock, Montane Fireball and OMM Kamleika, hat, 2 pairs of gloves etc. I really do feel the cold! I was also struggling tremendously to stay awake and at one stage was seriously contemplating sitting down for sleep. That would have been a very bad idea!
 
It was time to mobilise my support structure! Had a nice chat with Jenny who told me to keep on going, and then checked in with my Mum & Dad whom I was looking forward to seeing at the finish.
 
After a brief (ish) heavy shower. I approached Foston, CP7, 113 miles. I had dropped out here in 2012 and that certainly was not on today’s menu. Feeling much better, I set off on the long 18 mile section to Sewstern.
 
I was heading south towards Oakham now, it was getting warmer, I was feeling pretty good all things considered and I was going to finish.
 
This was a REALLY long leg and seemed to go on forever.
 
Going around Grantham, I popped into the Rutland Arms on the Grantham Canal and grabbed the best available food, a couple of pepperami’s and a Mars Bar, and filled up with water. This pub is in a great location and is sadly missing an opportunity.
 
The long, long, long Sewstern Lane was rife with cross-country and quad bikes, and nicely dug up into a veritable quagmire in places. Not fun.
 
I nearly bumped into a couple of people out for a walk who turned out to be Archie Stewart, fresh from his successful MdS, and his daughter Sophia. It was great to see them and I met another brief heavy shower with spirits lifted. Not for long, as I hit even worse sections of slippery mud, easily the most unpleasant bit of the whole event. I wasn’t having fun and I wanted to go home.
 
A graveyard for ultra-runners? Pretty much how I felt.....broken
 
Eventually, I got to Sewstern, CP8, 131 miles. I was feeling really tired and suddenly the remaining 16 miles seemed a very long way. Just before the CP I spotted my Mum and Dad with James.  My Mum insisted on ‘running’ the last 200m to the CP with me which was rather comical at the time. She then tried to help me with my bag. I asked politely to be given a little space! Once a Mum……
 
 
It was good to see them though and they were particularly amused by the number of chocolate rice crispy squares that I was able to eat in one go! Why do you think I do these events?
 
 
As I got up to leave another runner approached. It was Steve Gordon who must have been reeling me in all day. I wasn’t particularly bothered if he caught me. I had been walking almost all of the day and although I didn’t have much left, I knew I was going to finish. To me these long races are events rather than races. The race is 99% against oneself and I was winning that one.
 
Five minutes out of the CP, I suddenly decided I was bothered about finishing second. I had been in 2nd all day and I deserved to be 2nd! So I tried to run and it seemed to work so I kept on running. At this stage, I really didn’t want to go wrong so I very much had map in hand and was double-checking everything. 
 
I kept on running and I couldn’t believe how good I felt.
 
 
 
I was soon through  Exton and then down to the final checkpoint at Rutland Water.
 
141 miles done. 6 miles to go.
 
Pausing quickly for water and a couple of hits of cake, I ran along Rutland Water pleased that I had recce’d this bit.
 
A selfie after 143 miles of running felt appropriate.


  
Then it was along the main road into Oakham. It started to drizzle but I didn’t care. Mum, Dad and James were waiting just before the final corner so I stopped quickly to thank them.
 
As I rounded the final corner and saw the finish, I suddenly felt really emotional, and then it was over. I’d finished. I was happy.
 
147 miles, 36 hours and 9 minutes, 2nd place.
 
Mark and Alex gave me my t-shirt and medal. We’re talking serious bling here! The Mayor of Oakham was also here so I had a photo with him too. I was a bit excited now of course and called him “Your Excellency”. Mum insisted on an obligatory family photo.
 
 
 
 
And I went home.
 
And I was in time for tea (see here!)

Big thanks to Mark and Alex for all their tireless efforts over the weekend and for giving such a good vibe to the event. A real family feel. Thanks also to all those who gave freely of their time over the holiday weekend. Events like this just wouldn't happen otherwise.


Congratulations to all runners. Whether you finished or didn't, you toed the line. He who risks nothing......


Thanks 

 

 

Written by Richard Lendon - http://richrunnings.blogspot.fr/

So The Spine v3 2014 starts tomorrow at 08:00.
 
This morning I woke with nervous anticipation as the start looms ever closer. Not the sheer terror and panic before the 2012 race, or the brewing excitement and determination of last year but just a gentle anticipation of the task ahead.
 
I remember all the highs of last year and also some of the pain and huge lows during the race, but as time passes the highs become more memorable and the lows less important. They say this happens to women after childbirth.
 
'Newbies' will be feeling understandably scared; the fear of the unknown. Us ’veterans’ just nervous; we know what’s out there. It doesn’t make it any easier; we just know what to expect.
 
It’s been a very long trip to even get to the start. On the running front, an almost perfect first 6 months of year with finishes in The Spine (5th=), MdS (77th), Hardmoors 110 (7th) and Lakes 10 peaks (7th), followed by a less memorable second 6 months when I had to focus of getting my enjoyment and motivation back. On the personal front, a pretty poor first 6 months following by an even worse second 6 months. I have spent much of the year drowning under the weight of my depression and have pushed all my family to the limits of their love and patience. I know it has affected everyone around me and for that I am truly sorry. I also thank everyone for their love and support when I have most needed it.
 
My enthusiasm for life has been pretty low at times. I didn’t make it to the Spine Training weekend as my head was in a torrid place. Even as late as this Monday, I put all my Spine kit back in the drawers, not sure that I could face it.
 
But face it I can, and face it I will.
 
Over the next week, I (and I imagine all competitors) will have moments that encapsulate all possible emotions. There will be laughter. There will probably be tears. However, the finish and the whole experience is worth it all. Good luck to all
 
That which does not kill us makes us stronger 

 

 

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 1st 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 3rd place, and it started to snow again. Mick Cooper (eventual 2nd 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 5th 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.

Written by Ian Bowles - http://dartmoordogrunner.blogspot.fr/

This is my Race Report from the 2014 Spine Race.  A 268 mile romp up the Pennine Way.
                      (If anyone has food issues best not read this Report!)

       Perhaps I should explain the "Spiderman "reference first .  I am what is known as a Hash House Harrier.  Hashers it is rumoured  , are groups of runners who do not take running seriously enough and spend more time drinking and singing silly songs than worrying about PB's ,spread sheet training plans and the Race Diary.
       Hashers often refer to them self as "Drinkers with a running problem". Once you have been hashing a few times you will be given a hash name.     Mine is "Spiderman " My significant other was named first as" Spider" because of the length of her legs. Spiderman has nothing to do with comic book heroes but but just happened by default.

   What has this to do with the 2014 Spine Race you may ask. The answer is my race both on a physical and mental level was boosted by Hashing and my Spiderman alter ego.

  Many of you will have herd bad things about hashing and avoided it like the Plague . However not all hash groups are the same and my home hash (I run at times with 5 other Hashes ) is called Drake Hash House Harriers.http://drakeh3.org/

    Drake Hash as we are known are proudly not your average Hash. Drake Hash runs on Dartmoor at different locations every Monday night at 7.30 pm  come wind , sun , storm , hail, snow, ice, rain, gale and in fact any condition including zero viz fog . One more thing Drake Hash does not do roads (No really, even crossing a road is regarded as a  mortal sin). We don,t do tracks much  either as we run what is known as 10 and on. The last  thing is we don't do the hash songs,or any other ritualistic bollocks in the Pub afterwards. We are pure off trail nutter's!
            About Hashing
   On  the day of the hash the Hare (Hash member laying the trail ) will venture out on the moor carrying about 10 x 1.5 Kg bags of Flour and lay a trail of flour blobs spaced about 10m apart.  The trail may wind for some time over the moor until the Hare decides to lay a Check ( A circle of Flour devised  to hold up the faster runners)
From this circle several alternative trails of white dots are laid only one of which will be the true trail . The false trails will end up with a Cross marked in flour (all must be checked out)
    The object of the hash is to set loose a group of totally mixed paced runners off to follow the trail. The faster Front Running Bastards "FRB's will reach the Check first and set out on the different trails hunting the true path. They  call out how many blobs they have passed as they run . The moor will echo with calls of :on one --on two---on three--on four--until they count up to ten at which point they call out "On On" to call the rest of the mob to follow the true path . Of course some of the FRB's  will be on a false trail which will end in a cross . These runners will call out "On Back!" followed by a string of expletives as they will have to turn back and be guided by the calls of the runners on the main trail. Slower runners will lurk by the Check circle and let the  FRB's do the hard work.  Drake Hash is very vocal as it is regarded as careless to lose a hash member on Dartmoor .There are many other devious ways used to keep the mob together but at the end of the day a good hash is regarded as one where we all arrive back at the car park at the same time with the FRB's knackered having covered twice the mileage as the slowest runner . Incidently several of us run with dogs . The dogs really love hashing as it is about as close to running with their ancestral wolf packs as they will ever get. ( one hashing dog has abandoned her owner and regularly hashes with the mob while her owner waits by the car park)

       So What The Hell Has This To Do With The Spine Race?

      It's simple really : By running with Drake Hash I have trained to run full pelt across bogs, rocks, heather, crags,  and the occasional path in the dark often in shitty foggy  conditions, following an indistinct trail laid by some Devious Bastard who is deliberately trying to get me lost.
    Ask anyone who competed in the Spine Race  they will tell you; that is a pretty good description of the Pennine Way in winter.   The Winter Pennine Way is in my  comfort  zone.
    To do well in the Spine you need instinctive footwork  . Running in daylight even on rough trails won,t give you this ability. The ability to spot the indistinct signs of footprints or the trail also helps enormously. Hashing with Drake is fast, fun and brilliant Spine Training.
    I try to run the first part of the Spine as relaxed as possible separating  my  competitive traits and placing them in a box labelled : Spiderman . SPIDERMAN is only let loose  in the second half of the Race.

    
    I wrote my  original race report for 2013 about a year ago  (My feb 2013 Blog) , so perhaps I should refer back to it and see what has changed since .
    Training wise this years lead up to the Spine has been a disaster. I am self employed and moved premises in October putting back my work schedule by 4 Weeks. The knock on effect was a secession of 60 to 70 hr weeks  trying to catch up. I moved house on Dec 20 th and this has not helped things .
    The bottom line is that over the last 3months I have averaged about 15 miles running per week.True I crammed in  a 75 mile DNF on the Winter 100 and a good run in the OMM but on the whole my training would have been regarded as inadequate for a 10mile race let alone a conventional Ultra.
     Perhaps this is the crux of the matter.

       THE SPINE IS NOT A CONVENTIONAL ULTRA!

     What I have done, is write my Guide To The Spin Race, Series Of Blogs
     Writing the Guide forced me to look at what I learnt from 2013 in minute detail. By stripping  away my deep set preconceptions about Ultras and expose the things that really worked for me I have become a better Spine Racer.. However being a lazy disorganised old codger I  often did not follow all my own advice and in most cases regretted my own hypocrisy.
      To sum it all up : I came to the 2014 Spine Race with virtually no fitness running training but a relative  wealth of experience , confidence in my ability to: cope with the trail , run with a pack, navigation, nutrition and the ability to deal with the cold. (my boat shop is totally unheated and I spend long hours working in sub zero conditions over the winter.)
      As for attitude. Yes of course I could do it again (what could be worse than the 2013 Blizzard on the Cheviots).
    My one real worry : Wet feet.
    The one last minute panic  action before setting off to Edale  : Buying three pairs of so called Gortex Waterproof Socks from the Army Surplus Store.
  
  Before The Kick Off only 268 miles to go.
    The journey up to Edale  was fairly uneventful. I picked up Steve Hays from Bristol Airport and headed north yakking about the coming event until I realised we were actually heading for Cardiff!
Its good to get a Nav error in early but honestly missing a big blue Motorway Sign was a bit of a bummer. 20 miles later we were back on course and some hours later we  rolled  up  at the Peak Centre  Edale ,where I was staying for the night.
         There was a lot of packing and re packing going on and much evidence of calculated food  int akes and high energy, high tec nutrition systems.(the spreadsheet mentality)
      My nutrition for the first couple of days was sorted . 3 Riverford organic Curried Crab Tarts, 3 Riverford Homity Pies, a bunch of Mini Peperami's ,Baby Bell Cheeses and Shot Blocks. That should just about get me to nightfall and the White House Pub on day one provided I remembered to eat between pies!
       Registration was split into 3 groups. We had the usual safety briefings and talks on Hypothermia and Hypoglycemia. This year there was much less talk about the different ways we could all die possibly because John Bamber did not give his little talk on the perils of Sink Holes.
     The evening meal in the Pub was quite subdued and most of us retired early to bed. We tried and mostly failed to sleep partly due to worries about the morning Kit Check and fear of not waking up in time.

    6.15 am Race Day.
     Stuffed down a Cornish  Pasty and a Scotch Egg for breakfast. Slung my 20 Kg  (+ a bit) drop bag into my White Van together with several other 20 Kg (+ a bit )drop bags.
     Back in December I had hatched a plan to con the Race Organisers into borrowing my White Van for use as a drop bag transporter so it would end up at the finish line. Somehow they fell for it leaving me with no option but to get to the finish line to retrieve my Van! (Burning Bridges Motivation).
     Kit Checks went surprisingly smoothly and when everyone had finally handed in their homework paperwork we shuffled out to the car park.
      The forecast was: dry and bright so it promptly started to rain.
                                                                                   Everyone put on their waterproofs.
                                                                The sun came out.
                                                                                    Several of us took of our waterproofs.
                                                                 2 Min's to go it rained again.
                                                                                     Mass panic putting gear back on again.
                       Start!
                                 By now several of us had waterproof tops on but no waterproof leggings! Still The Spine Waits for no man or woman, so we were off. 
          You guessed it the rainy drizzle  started to turn to Wet Snow as we tackled Jacobs Ladder on the way up to Kinder Scout. There was much hurried changing behind walls and in barns before we were all sorted out.
         I took it real slow for the first couple of miles. Once on the top of the Plateau the Snow came down heavier and we sloshed through a couple of inches of slush . Luckily there was not much wind compared to last year and the temp was above freezing so it was easy to keep warm.
      
         I soon realised I had Kit issues . This year i had decided to run  with a front pouch to hold maps and food. I had only really tested this a couple of times with very little weight in the pouch. Unfortunately the top clip attachments fastened to my shoulder straps with Velcro . The Velcro was not up to the job and kept coming un-fastened so the pouch kept falling down in front of my bollocks like an unwieldy sporran! Like most of the runners at this point I was reluctant to stop so tried carrying the pouch in one hand like a man bag. This look has never really suited me  besides the bag clashed with my eyes . I was eventually forced to stop and use the electrical tape  to bind the Velcro fastenings together. Front pouch sorted.
        The ground was wet and fairly slippery so I had been using one pole at times to maintain speed and confidence in my footing. There is a wide misconception that poles are used to propel you up hills. Not only that but the "Nordic Walking Slimming Lobby" has put it out that the use of poles will burn more calories. As this data can be put in a spreadsheet it has been leaped upon by Spine Candidates looking for a scientific approach to conquering The Spine. Some folks have even calculated how many extra calories they will need to complete the Spine if using Poles. Perhaps this was the reason why some runners had no poles at all.
       In all fairness the poles were only really useful on day one of this years Spine. Last year getting to the finish line would have been impossible without them. No poles =Guaranteed DNF.
       Just prior to this years race I had designed a "Running pole Scabbard" in the form of a 75cm long plastic tube with a belled out top end . This tube was slung between the lower back of my pack and my right shoulder strap.  I was able to instantly stow an unwanted pole in the scabbard and then retrieve it when wanted by reaching over my shoulder and drawing it out Ninja Turtle Style. The whole thing made me look a bit of a prat but worked remarkably well. Last years prolonged snow running meant we were constantly having to put poles down either to navigate or clamber over obstacles. With the scabbard this would not have been a hindrance to pace.

      I had spent several days of the Spine last year running with Jenn  Gaskell. We had met again the night before the race and discussed race tactics . There was one golden rule: Don,t start racing till after Alston.  Jenn had overtaken me early on climbing up to Kinder Scout. She had two obvious rivals for the Crown of first lady : Mimi Anderson and Debbie Brupbacher . One other runner was also bound to be a threat : Ann Green , probably one of the steadiest runners I know. Ann was  going to keep moving at her own pace and would in my opinion finish ,whatever the Spine Threw at her. 
      Debbie passed me at Mill Hill where she took some photographs . She said she did this regularly to remind herself to slow down. That's one trick I had not thought of! Debbie looked strong and very organised. I new little about her but discovered she was into adventure racing which I knew would help   her cope with the problem solving aspects of The Spine. 
       Debbie soon pushed on out of sight and I encountered several other runners before descending towards  Topside Reservoir revelling in the sight of the sun touched snowy slopes on the hills around me .   God how I love running in places as spectacular as this!  No sooner had this thought struck me and my concentration wavered than I found my self flying through the air and landing on my neck in the wet grass. Luckily my pack had broken my fall.  I knew exactly what had happened ( It says it in the Land rover adverts ) One of the most slippery surfaces you can encounter is :Wet Grass. All around me were the signs of other Spine Racers Skidding and hitting the deck. All this and only 10m away from a nice solid gravel track. 
       I have described the above incident to illustrate how quickly you can come unstuck on The Spine. It is as if The Spine tests you every now and then to make certain  that you are paying attention to what she is teaching you.

       Conditions underfoot were just plain hard work. I had opted on day one to wear Salomon Gortex running boots with Gaiters. These had worked fine so far in keeping my feet dry . The Injini toe socks with Compression socks over the top were ok but the uppers of the boots were not really comfortable . I had stopped twice to inspect my feet and apart from a slight bruising of my ankle bone all was well.
       Mimi Anderson and a bunch of others ran with me from just past the M62 bridge and we safely negotiated the really miserable maze of boulders and bog around Blackstone Edge. Mimi seemed to know the guys she was running with really well so we said little to each other.
        By now I had realised I was running over paced again and was beginning to get my usual 40 mile nausea feeling.  The White House Pub loomed out of the gloom and I bolted inside for a feed up. First stop the toilets and true to form as soon as a stopped moving and bent over I threw up in the loo. This made me feel much better and I ordered food. One minute later and I bolted back to the loo for a second hurl. There on the toilet room floor was my GPS that I had dropped while taking off my pack in the previous urgent visit.   The food arrived and all I could do was stare at it. Gradually more Spiners came in and generally lowered the tone of the place. The pub was fairly packed with diners but the room I was in was gradually filling up with Hungry Racers. The German/Swiss contingent took a table just across from me and promptly took their shoes and socks off to inspect a particularly nasty rash of blisters . This action had not gone un noticed by the rest of the diners and shortly the Land Lady arrived to point out that British Diners are not happy about being exposed to reeking torn up feet while they are eating. The guys were rather surprised by this fact but put their shoes back on anyway. I can only thank the Land Lady for not banning the lot of us from the pub. I managed to force down a few chips and steak and kidney pie then pushed on into the night.
         The final push up the hill towards CP1 is a nightmare. There are some angles of climb that my body just does not like. I knew I was short of food but then again I could not keep anything down. Luckily I remembered the rout into the CP from last year. My plan was to get in ,drink Coke to reduce the nausea and avoid the Medics. I feared I had gone my usual shade of imminent death white and would be threatened with being pulled from the race yet again. Knowing the rout in enabled me to slow to a nausea reducing crawl so when I eventually arrived I felt much better.
        Checkpoint Routine : Boots and waterproofs off. Locate Drop bag. Take out CP maintenance bag with washing drying sleeping kit. Shower feed . Sort next legs kit , feed ,drink ,feed then search for a bed . 
       I had hoped that the Dorms would be more organised this year. In my opinion the dorms should be for sleeping in only. -------No kit sorting 
                                         No lights on 
                                         No talking
                                         No one enters unless ready to grab a bed and sleep.
                                         Anyone waking up gets dressed outside silently.
      At CP1 the reverse was true . Someone said that all kit sorting and packs should be taken into the Dorm. The result was that it was next to impossible to sleep.  I stuck it out for about 4hrs then gave up and wandered off to see what was for breakfast. Fed watered and having my feet checked over I decided to switch to my Salomon XT Wings with Army Surplus Socks and Mariano Blend socks underneath. My £9.50 socks proved to be 100% waterproof for the rest of the race!

       Day TWO 7am

      Back on the trail again before dawn and I was about one hour ahead of last years times . I was better fed and provisioned for this next leg. I knew however that I had to try to eat much more. By the last day of the Spine I needed to be eating at least treble what I normally consume in a day and achieving this degree of gluttony takes dedication and practise. The old Grizzly Bear needed to prepare for winter. My next target was the Mega  All day Breakfast at the Cafe just west of Pondon Reservoir.
     I had discovered this place last year when one of the group I was running with was forced to pull out and need a warm place to stay while waiting to be retrieved by Spine Control. The Cafe adds about 1km to the route but comes at a good time to re-fuel in a warm and totally surreal atmosphere . The Cafe or terrace dining area is on the third floor of a really weird furniture emporium. Signs outside speak of Massive Sale Reductions . The whole building is filled with : go on you know you really want to buy something Muzak and you have to fight your way to the cafe through a series of rooms resembling Victoriana stage sets.
     My visit was slightly marred by being beaten to the food ordering desk by about 20 cyclists. The massed Cyclists caused what I imagined to be a Victorian cook to have a fit of the vapours and delay the appearance of my food. What did eventually appear was worth the wait. This cafe is frequented by Spine Marshals manning the Pondon road crossing walk through checking point.
     Pushing on from  Pondon the course passes over a high Moor before plunging once more into farmland. Through Cowling to Lothersdale and another charming little pub.  Here the Landlord was having a hard time as he had not been warned of the coming of over 100 hungry racers . However he was coping well and the food was excellent.
     It was around this tine that I got disturbing news of Jenn. Evidently the first three ladies were fighting for the lead with about 35meters separating all three. A head to head race was bound to end in disaster this early in the race! Somewhat dispirited I pushed on and soon hooked up with a fellow 2013 Spine Vet  Annie. 
    Annie is a bubbly spanish  ball of fun. She positively giggles  along the trail in a very Spanish sort of way. Slight of frame with a large pack she knows far more about wilderness running than she thinks she does. Annie has also taken the time to recce most of the Pennine way.
     Dark was falling when we neared  the small town of Gargrave along side the canal. We left the canal and trotted south for about 200m . HANG ON SOUTH! that was wrong we were heading back to Edale. We corrected our direction and hurried on in the correct direction missing the PW sign at the side of the track. Someone was yelling at us back down the trail. We could see the light but had no idea what they were on about. we turned back to help the runner in distress only to discover Eddie a Spanish runner had been trying to tell us we were going the wrong way! Joining forces  we tried and failed to follow the trail across farmland. There was  no actual discernible trail and we  were soon lost or rather off trail by perhaps 30meters which is the same thing if there is a wood ,barbed wire and a ditch between you and where you think you should be . The only positive aspect is that I recognised several features where I had got lost in the same place last year. Only one thing for it , push on in the vague direction where I knew we should be . Several fences and walls later we were back on trail .
        Eddie had been muttering to himself in Spanish . He was not a Happy Bunny as he had been left behind by the two runners he had been with and felt abandoned . The rain increased as we finally trudged into Gargrave and headed for the CO OP pie counter. I was in for a shock Some Bastard Had Eat All The Pies!
         I guess that serves me wright for mentioning the Co op in my Blogs on The Spine.
         It was time for house keeping . I had lost my map case and needed to protect my paper OS maps from the rain. I found a roll of freezer bags that would do the trick and had an argument with the shop assistant who could not understand that I only wanted one bag from the roll of 50 after paying for all 50. This strange behaviour was only made worse by Annie standing next to the till and dressing up in black bin bags. Annie appeared to have an inexhaustible supply of plastic bags in her pack but no transparent bags.
          There is a long up hill haul out of Gargrave up to open moor land . Annie knew the route but somehow we missed the turning off the track again. Referring to the map we located a bridle path back towards the PW.  We were moving well as we descended back down  towards the river . The rain was coming down even heavier so every step was in several inches of water. I navigated with Annie giving advice from memories of her recce's.  I love to navigate but as it was to wet to wear my Specs I was nearly blind and could not spot the styles and gates in front of us. Annie kept pace about 5m behind me which I found frustrating as I needed her eyes and night vision for the finer path finding needed to make good progress.
         Last year most of the runners stayed at CP1.5 Malham Tarn but I knew that the ground was flat and boggy around the checkpoint. Malham Tarn is also at quite a high altitude so as we approached Malam Village I kept a look out for a place to camp. The best areas around Malham were  dangerously near the river so we pushed on towards Malham Cove where we found an area of short sloaping grass just off the trail. -------  8 pm .Tent up as fast as I could in the rain then Annie in the Tent first ,me second  after a trip down to the beck for water . I brewed up the evening meals in a dry Tent. we had managed the wet outer garments off then into dry sleeping bags remarkably well considering we had not practised together. 3 Hrs sleep and  I can confirm that Annie snores like the best of us!
         Tent down and push on through the maze that is Malham Cove with Dave Lee, at great speed  then Malham Tarn and CP 1.5.
         CP 1.5 was a sea of mud inside a large tent. not a good camping spot. Annie stayed at CP 1.5 to warm up and I pushed on with Dave Lee.
         Fountains Fell and Pen-y-ghent were relatively free of snow and we made good time on through to the long straight track of Cam High Road.
         At the top of Cam High Road the trail swings left down into Haws. A large White Mobile Home was parked at the junction. This vehicle was used by the support crew for one of the runners and kept turning up in unexpected places (Like Dr Who's Tardis) usually in the middle of the night. After several days I was becoming quite paranoid about about this van. Inside was an oasis of calm for one runner ,but not me the outsider.  Charlie Sharp shot past us  at great speed , leaving me with the feeling that he reminded me of someone.
          Dave and I stopped only briefly at Haws (CP2) . I replenished my supply of Pies at the butchers.
          Visibility was low as we climbed Shunner Fell, missing the trail again and having to head out cross country through peat hags to regain the trail. Shunner fell was cold and  windy with a wet partly paved trail. Near the summit I came upon a broken running pole . Somewhere ahead a runner with no morals had decided that a broken pole was a thing to be dumped to decrease the weight they had to carry "Sod The Environment For I Am Worth It!" It's this sort of attitude that really incenses me! I carried the incriminating red pole with me to the next CP and handed it in  (I hope the runner with one red pole was disqualified! or DNF't).
          Descending towards Thwaite  we were passed by the German /Swiss gang of Thomas Michael and Guido ,moving like the clappers considering how icy the flagstones were. Dave advised letting them go as it was not worth breaking our necks trying to keep up . Ten minutes later he was proved right as Michael had skidded and badly twisted his foot.
           The contouring path between Thwaite and Keld was as tricky as I remembered from 2013. boulders ,mud, steep slopes and tricky navigation. We had been on the go for 24  hours and were falling asleep on our feet. Beyond Keld the trail climbs and we knew we needed sleep before climbing onto the exposed slopes of Tan Hill.  All the barns and sheep folds we passed were shut so we decided to Bivi on a bank above the trail protected by a stunted tree. Rain was still pattering down so I used my running poles ,tape and Pertex top to build a rain deflector so I could get into by bag and keep things dry. The system worked but I could not sleep due to Dave's snoring and other passing runners asking if we were ok.. Two hours later I was woken by Dave who had given up trying to sleep because of the rain and my snoring. Dave had been unable to wake me and was about to head off alone.
          It is almost impossible to know how much sleep you actually get on the spine as you can't monitor yourself.
          On again playing catch up with Dave . Tan Hill Pub was closed but hot drinks were available in the pub porch. Dave stayed for a while and I pushed on alone for 100m before turning back to retrieve my over mitts which I had left in the porch.
          The Bogs past Tan Hill  were shrouded in fog making night  navigation a nightmare. I frequently found myself off trail ploughing a furrow through virgin bog. The main trail kept disappearing and it was impossible to tell if it had disappeared to left or right. On the plus side the bogs were easy for me to run in as they cushioned my bruised feet.  I overhauled several of the runners who had passed me at the Keld Bivi.  After dawn broke the trail on to Middleton (CP3) passed surprisingly fast.

   Middleton About 150 miles done.
          My CP routine was getting more slick and I was pleased to be able to wolf down two main meals  and a slice of Cheese /ham on toast that had landed Cheese side down on the Kitchen floor. My eating habits were getting more disgusting by the day which bode well for my energy levels towards the end of the race .  The sleeping was less of a success as it was still daylight and one of the Checkpoint Marshals (on normal 24 hr clock) kept bursting into the dorm telling jokes and sitting on runners trying to sleep.  Eventually a gruff : "Can you keep the noise down please!" did the trick. I think I may have got perhaps 2 hrs sleep before waking ,stuffing down another main meal, breakfast ,toast and snacks then back through Middleton via the Chip Shop to the trail.
           Happily munching a bag of chips with double salt I headed along the  fast trail beside the river and waterfalls towards Cauldron Snout. This was an area I had by passed last year but I had visited it during the summer in 2013.  By now it was dark so it was difficult to stay on trail as the path is covered in large boulders for long stretches for the 2km before Cauldron Snout itself. This are is best negotiated using hands and feet together and takes ages to pass. The rocks were ice free this year which made it safer than last year. Finally I reached Cauldron Snout itself where the trail is a steep scramble close to roaring waters. I became aware that my pack felt strange . I wanted to push on but decided to take a look.    I had not fastened the top clips properly at CP3 , the whole top section had become un zipped
leaving my dry bag with all my gear about to fall out and roll into the river . I had come within seconds of a disaster which would have put me out of the race!
          The next section of the trail rises slowly up to High Cup Nick.  I dowsed my torch to look back for following runner's. I calculated the next two lights were about 20 mins behind me. Time to push a little harder so the following runners would not  have the advantage of hanging on my navigating. Spidermans  Competitive nature was starting to  make his presence felt.
          There was a few inches of snow at High Cup Nick making the crossing of the melt water stream in the hanging valley tricky.  Tracks went off in all directions as runners tried different lines . At this point the two following runners caught me up. Guido and Thomas.  To our left was a sheer drop into an invisible abysses  I was glad the wind and ice was not so bad.   The trail down to Dufton is long and straight turning into slippery grass and mud as we lost altitude. I let the Swiss/German pair push ahead.
           I was greeted at Dufton at 3am  by a Marshal saying that Conditions on Cross Fell were severe and my race clock  had been stopped till 7am when we would be teamed up for the next section. Good news for me as I could sleep in the Buss Shelter . Thomas and Guido had already  set up camp in the ladies toilets.
        
           7.30 am and the A Team Heads For Cross Fell.

           Having run through the 2013 Cheviot Blizzard with Thomas I was delighted to be teamed up with him again for the traverse of Cross Fell . Thomas is an immensly  powerfull athlete and one you can utterly depend on if faced with the prospect of 2m snow drifts and high winds on high remote passes. We discussed our tactics : Go real slow as we gained altitude so we had plenty in reserve for the exposed ground on the tops.
            As it turned out the temp had risen greatly since the night and most of the snow had melted. We made good progress despite the low cloud base. The wind peaked at about 30 mph gusts on Cross Fell .The descent towards Gregs Hut was a little more difficult as any flagstones we encountered were covered i a layer of melting ice . We made better progress by running in the boggy heather besides the flags.

             Gregs Hut.

              We had made such good progress that we arrived at the hut before the fire had been stoked up by John Bamber to cook our Noodles.   I was impatient to push on and bolted down my half cooked noodles before trotting off  down the rutted track towards Garrgill. 
              Spiderman  wanted to loose Guido and Thomas before Alston.
               The Green Dragon Pub in Garrgill was boarded up and closed ( Possibly due to  complaints about  wild animals in the bar made to the public health dept by a distraught Couple in Jan 2013?) .
The village shop /post office was open. Just behind the peeling paint door I was greeted by a 1950's decor shop. I bought two slices of egg and ham pie and expected to be asked for my ration coupons. Later I was to regret not buying a few tins of Spam and Corned Beef while I was there.
              CP 4 was in a different location from last year but I was assured it would be well signed . The Spine CP signs pointed up a track which promptly divided in two then divided again . So much for signage! I got out my map and navigated towards the CP. My phone rang: It was Jenn who had dropped out and was monitoring my tracker on line. " You are going the wrong way she said!" SHIT I turned around and took another turning to the west only to find myself standing on a Golf Course . The tracker updating was delayed and Jenn could no longer tell which direction I was going in . SOD IT I am going back to my first choice of route and rely on my own navigation. I had been correct in the first place and delayed  by 10 Min's ,  I fell through the CP door. I later learnt that the GPS way point track to the CP had been wrong leading any runner relying on GPS on a Wild  Goose Chase.
               This time there were  only two of us in the Dorm . I crept silently in and lay on the top bunk for a good 3 hrs sleep. One hour later : Bang the light one foot from my head was switched on as the other runner needed  the light to noisily  prepare his pack for the next leg. I was absolutely furious it was so unnecessary. There were very few runners in the CP and it would have been so easy for him to get ready outside or at least quietly by torch light! The damage was done so I grumped back to the Food area to stuff myself for the next leg as the other runner departed the CP.

             Alston to Bellingham

            6pm .---Leaving CP4  the PW passes to the west of Alston. In retrospect I should have gone into Alston to shop for more food. As it was  I pushed on gradually speeding up determined to pass the runner who had woken me . The trail meanders up Westward onto the sides of the moor and high boggy ground. Soon I spotted lights . Two runners were wandering about among steep banks in the dark . They called out" don,t follow us " and who is that. " Spideman  I replied and put on a spurt of speed to loose them in my wake. I Don't know who they were and rather regretted my juvenile behaviour but I was now switching into race mode hoping to pick off more runners.
          The last high level moorland bog section before Hadrian's wall was Wain Rigg. This is a flat bleak godforsaken place which I was glad to get over with despite making good speed bog trotting.
          The dawn  revealed Hadrian's wall a spectacular high level undulating ridge run. The landscape there is full of history and haunted by imagined  Ghosts . I was running short of real food and had neglected to fill my water bottles. No water was available on the wall so I was running dry. In the far distance I could see lights up on Wain Rig.
             I took out my phone and read various texts from friends following my tracker on line. Mark Brooks had just sent one so I phoned him to get an update of the positions of runners around me .  Mark said I was moving faster than the other runners around me and should catch perhaps 5 more before Bellingham if I kept up the same pace. One runner not far in front had just overshot the turning north away from the wall. While talking I tripped on a mole hill and a sharp pain shot up from my Achilles / calf area. I stopped  then hobbled slowly forward. I was terrified of doing serious damage to my Achilles . As I am self employed several weeks off work is not an option for me .  I panicked and  phoned the Race  Medics to ask that one could meet me at the next  road head. I crawled forward unable to run and now acutely aware of my dehydration and hunger. For the first time since starting The Spine I was worried. Very slowly my Achilles   eased up and I could hobble a bit faster.
            On reaching the Road head some time later I was moving much better. There was no sign of the medics but 500m later they phoned to say they could see me and did I wish to turn back? I was feeling much better and a little foolish. We agreed that I would phone again if it got worse. I also learnt that there were no more road monitoring posts before Bellingham and no water available. Asking about water I was advised to get some from a shop?!!. As far as I was aware the next shop was in Bellingham. I made no comment. A bottle of mucky bog water would have to do for now.

         North of the wall the trail goes into Kielder Forest. This is an area where I got terribly frustrated last year and I was on my guard. The path was much easier to follow this time. I was getting regular reports on other runners from Mark . I was overhauling David Dixon and a group of 3 including Debbie . John Duggan who I had passed at Hadrian's Wall was just behind me . I caught up and passed David then was caught by John who was moving really well.
          The wooded sections of the trail turned into long knee deep muddy rutted rides hemmed in by trees slowing progress into a drunken stagger. We crossed a road and met a runners support crew who said Debbie was just ahead and close to tears because of the mud . Just past the road and the trail got considerably worse. Thank God it was daylight as this section would be near impossible in the dark. The mud cleared and we breathed a sigh of relief only to be Knocked back again by the PW's next vicious twist.  Some form of massive Log Extraction Vehicle had produced ruts 1.5m deep. The central part of the trail was laced with brashings protruding from the silt. All I could do was laugh, weeping just would not help.
          Out of the woods and back onto farm land down to the impassable ford I had encountered last year. This time I was able to spot the footbridge 100m upstream. The path then climbs up to the aptly named : SHITLINGTON HALL where last year the GPS way point had been in the middle of a massive Dung Heap!    I had slowed right down by now having eaten everything readily available in my pack. It was with a sigh of relief that John and I reached the Bellingham CP.

            Bellingham To The Finish.
        
          I needed a fast turn round at this CP and a good sound sleep. The food was plentiful and varied . Joe Faulkner offered to go shopping for me in Bellingham as I was worried that the Shop would be closed before I set off again. This time I was determined not to be disturbed.  There were two beds in the room ,one already occupied. I wrote a sign saying: Dorm full until 9.30 and stuck it to the door. No one came in and I woke at 8.30 and pushed back out onto the trail leap frogging past the runners who had got to the CP before me.
        Spidrman  the racer was now in full charge and I upped the pace again on the trail towards Byrness my support followers were now giving me regular updates. I had passed several runners at the CP but I was short on sleep and Guido and Thomas were on my tail. By the time I got to Byrness I was falling asleep on my feet due to my gamble of a short sleep at CP5. I sat in the Marshals car at Byrness and napped for about one hour.
          The PW route was impassable just past  the road head and I was given directions for the alternative route through the woods . My brain could not take in such complex directions and I found myself on a path below and parallel to the path I wanted. My path soon vanished into a maze of Brashings and i was forced to head up hill through the Brashings back to the correct path. Two lights behind me heralded the approach of Guido and Thomas.  The Swiss /german pair passed me as we reached the start of the Cheviots. I had been doing some calculations and had worked out that once our 3hr stoppage time was taken into account they could overtake the two runners ahead of us on corrected time . I urged them on but I don't think they understood the situation.  It was misty and cold on the boggy Cheviots so i started to speed up again . I passed a sign to Windy Gyle then came across the old Roman Fort high on the Ridge .  All around me I felt the presence of the Roman Centurians urging me on . I took little diversions to run over the earthworks soaking up energy radiating from the place.  This was it.  I was going to run down the German / Swiss team . Whooping with Joy Spiderman was now in full race mode! I was now moving at a comfortable Marathon Speed . The text's from my supporters kept coming letting me know I was gaining again. Thomas and Guido appeared out of the mist appearing to almost stand still. Now I was really flying . My supporters had been working out the time splits and new that I could get to 7th then 6th place if I kept the pressure up. I was full of energy due to my massive food consumption . The only limit to my speed was the bruising to my feet.
         First one Refuge hut was passed then Windy Gyle . I had run out of water again but expected water at the run through CP at the second hut . I wolfed down a whole 200g Salami which made me even more dehydrated. Up ahead i could see the second  Hut  but no one was in sight.
                             No matter they must be hiding my hyperactive brain said.
                             No one outside   and no one in the hut .
                             My world collapsed  and I sank to my knees and cried . ( mentally flipping from Spiderman to an overtired 3 year old at the end of a long car journey) I wanted water and cheering on .
                                 After a good talking to myself and a pathetic moan to Mark over the phone I walked on up over the last big hill : The Schil. My phone text system had somehow changed into minute writing so I could only read the first few words of each text . My GPS had also go on the blink so I was back to fighting with a soggy map. Gradually I got my shit back together  and headed towards the finish line. My mate Del was giving me updates on Guido and Thomas and I knew I was ahead by time  of the two runners ahead of me . Bar accidents I would come 6th. I got a text saying Charlie was at Auchope Cairn and wondered where he had came from . I was not worried as he was still a long way behind.
         I reached the final road stretch 1k from the finish and tried to read a text from Jenn . It said : "RUUUUNNNNNN!!!!! CHARLIE"    I could not read the rest of the text so ignored it. 5 minutes later as i was re arranging my pack i spotted a fast runner on the road behind me . He was moving far to fast to be a Spine Racer. As he closed I realised I was wrong ( So that's what Jenns Text had ment).
           Charlie swept up and helped me put my pack back on . He offered to run with me but it was instantly obvious that he was way faster than me . His feet were so mashed up that he could only run really fast or stand still. As he pulled ahead i suddenly twigged  what he looked like . It had been bugging me ever since he shot by me earlier in the race . Charlie had a rectangular  massive back pack with a loose flapping yellow cover . Charlie was the spitting image of Buzz Lightyear! He did not actually call out "Too Infinity And Beyond " as he shot up the last hill as full tilt but in my mind he did.
           200m from the Finish, Scott one of the Race Founders came to congratulate me on my second  Spine Finish and together we sprinted to the Pub and finish line for the second time.


             Final thoughts 

          I had finished the Spine For a second time by applying a mind (and pies ) over fitness strategy. I can safely say I enjoyed almost every minute of the Race . I paced myself well and never pushed my body to the edge of its limits. True I had some luck with my feet and the fluke of using Army Surplus Socks .( My  thanks to : SMITH 232 who previously owned them) My Stoppage time at Dufton also boosted my ranking in the results, but at the end of the day I feel that my performance goes to show how a 15 mile a weak seaming tail ender  can mix it with highly trained 150 mile per weak  Sponsored Runners if he uses his head.
           The Spine is a Beautiful Beast and a great leveller.

          Later that night the rest of the runners came in . All had their own stories and the ones at the back had the a rough time on the last night.   The Village hall where most of us ended up was filled with strong emotions . Several people could be seen quietly weeping with their heads in their hands . This race touches people in different ways. I felt privileged to be part of it and just a little bit guilty for enjoying it so much.

          THE DNF
           I have to confess later on the drive back home I had my first DNF of 2014. The course was a flat  100m long concrete overpass . The finish line the Burger King on the other side of the motorway. I DNF't which just goes to show that you do actually need to train for some events.

         And yes Spiderman will return in 2015.

 If you are contemplating entering the Spine Race then you may find My Guide to the Spine Race Useful . I am now up to part 8 of the guide and still writing! Not all I write of will be applicable to you as an individual runner but hopefully The Guide will give you some insights into aspects of the Spine you may not  have considered.
 Your experience as a 100 mile runner may not be enough.
 Good luck and  hopefully see you at the finish line.

Written by Ian Bowles - http://dartmoordogrunner.blogspot.fr/

 Friday night and 12 hours to  the start of the 2013 Spine Race

         Racing the whole of the Pennine Way in January Can’t hurt that much. Can it?
 
 
Here I am in the back of my van starting my final prep for the Spine.  Typically I have left everything to the last minute.  The current problem is how to pack all I might need in my drop bag. It all comes down to what could be a crucial choice - tent or bivi bag?   I know I won’t make CP2 at a sensible time so I err on comfort rather than lightweight.  The tent it is!  The same goes for the choice of the faster cooking MSR Gas stove over super light weight’ fuel tablet’ stove. The stove choice proved particularly important 6 days later.
Back in the race HQ others are making similar decisions. We worry about the weight of our packs. How much we carry is the only thing we can change at this late stage. Few of us appreciate that it,s the small decisions we make  out on the trail  that will really make the difference.
 
          I ponder why I am here and feel a bit of a fraud (I have not even paid to enter for god’s sake!).  Last year I entered the Spine Challenger but had to pull out at the last minute.  I passed on my entry to fellow Totnes Runner Mark Brooks.
 
Mark was not at all keen to enter, as he hates cold weather.  He came up with a list of excuses: no bivi bag, no traction aids, no decent sleeping bag, no transport. To each excuse he came up with, I supplied the solution.  My parting words as he left for Edale in my van were, “ If you win the Spine Challenger you can let me have your prize of free entry to the 2013 Spine”. 
 
He won and so here I am.
 

Day One  only 268 miles to go.

 
As expected the majority of the pack rushed off up the hill.  Racing was not part of my plan.  As a 57 year old plodder with nothing to prove I knew I could make it to CP2 and that anything else would be a bonus.  As for finishing the Spine, if I did that I would be chuffed to bits!  For now I had only one aim, to get up to Kinder Scout without breaking into a sweat.
 
I stopped several times to change layers.  I have to control my body temperature .The heat I produce must match the heat lost. If I run hot or cold I am just wasting energy. On shorter runs up to say 12 hours you can get away with things but this race is different.
 
The Kinder Plateau gave me an early wake up call.  I slipped into race mode picking off several runners until I took a wrong turn at Kinder Downfall.  I am an orienteer and I didn’t even have my map out!  The Spine had given me my first gentle kick; a more serious beating was soon to follow.
 
The rest of that day can best be described as a settling in period.  A bitterly cold wind blew from the east and we runners started to form up in groups , each following a navigator.  I found myself at the front on map and compass with someone else on GPS cross checking our track.  All was well as where the path was indistinct or branching  as it forced concentration.  The Spine however could never be taken for granted.
 
Our group soon found ourselves following a good obvious path but we were heading SW on Castleshaw Moor.  Somehow we had all stopped navigating, missed a junction and were now 1.5km off track!  There was a recovery path marked on my OS map but it was too indistinct to follow on the ground.  This left us with a run along a Pennine bridleway and 2km of road to get back on track.  Total time lost about one hour.  That second kick hurt!
 
Soon it was lights on time and the group began to work better together.  Two  of us navigating and those with good night vision spotting the indistinct path among boulders dusted by snow and ice.
 
We arrived at the next road checkpoint.  This is was where I made my worst decision of the whole race!
 
I was hungry , very hungry but stupidly I decided to pass the brightly lit pub and stick with the group.  Several more runners had joined us and we were on a fast, flat wide track.  The pace quickened and someone called out our speed.  Subtly the group was speeding up.  Within a few km I knew I was running over pace and the hunger was turning into that old familiar slightly nauseous feeling that warns of imminent throwing up!  The pace slackened on the more technical ground for the last 5km to CP1 but the damage was done.
 
I arrived at the CP, got my feet sorted and then tried to eat and drink.  Not long after I threw up.  When I get into that state my face drains of color and my lips go purple.   This has happened to me many times before. (I usually crawl on and recover.)  This time I was immediately grabbed by the Medics , declared an emergency, told to lie down and get some tubes of dextrose, coke and porridge down me. 
 
You don’t argue with the Spine Medics.  I was on final warning!  I managed to do as I was told, eventually falling to sleep.
 
I woke up to find my appetite had returned.  After a stiff talking to by the head Medic I was allowed to go on, having promised to up my fluid and food intake.
 

Day two - 45 miles done

 
       Setting off just before dawn a new group had formed .We quickly got back into eating up the miles.  I had learnt my lesson the previous day and resolved to run at my own pace and stuff my face all day.  If any one else wanted to tag along at my pace, that was fine but I would not wait or pass any food stops.
 
Group running on long ultras is more complex than you may think.  In a group of say four runners the navigator will lead.  Perhaps two runners will cruise at below their sustainable pace saving the energy it takes to navigate.  Any other runners are probably being pulled along at above their sustainable pace, not wanting to leave the comfort of the group. Inevitably they suffer and gradually go down hill.
 
I personally reckon groups of two or three work best.  I had also noticed on day one that the runners with support crews tended to stop at every road head and take advantage of their crews, leaving the rest of the group shivering while they waited.  Supported and unsupported runners don’t always work well together.
 
The composition of our band gradually changed and I found my self running with an Irish lad, Eamonn, and Andy, a young guy who lives only five miles from my home.  Navigation duties meshed well as Eamonn had a good GPS and Andy a booklet with detailed maps and notes on the route.  We made small detours at times to visit cafes, pubs and the Gargrave Co-op pie display. I grabbed 4 pies eating one even before I got to the till.
 
We were making steady progress.  Dave Lee joined us. Dave is a vastly experienced and tough  runner in his 60’s   I found this a little difficult, as Dave was the only runner in the Spine that I felt I had to beat!  Perhaps we both wanted to be group leader?  He later told me he felt exactly the same way about me.
 
Dave had walked the Pennine Way twice before and knew some of it really well.  We all shared the navigation.  We got as far as Malham Cove and soon everything went pear shaped.  The trail was hidden by snow and due to the steep climbs we were trying to navigate in 3D on a 2D map.
 
We came to the end of a blind gorge which Dave was convinced was not on the trail, so we must be way off course. The GPS was having difficulty keeping a signal. Backtracking only made things worse but eventually a GPS grid fix confirmed we were on course.  We eventually located steps hidden in the snow leading up comb hill.  It was a real relief to arrive at the CP 1.5 tent at Malham Tarn.
 
Eamonn pushed on with Andy, as he was worried about the cut off for the Spine Challenger. I don’t recall if Dave camped or pushed on.
 
After a quick drink of tea I scuttled outside to put up my tent.  The snowy ground was covered in bodies holed up in bivi bags.  My TN laser tent took no time to erect despite the frozen ground and I was soon cooking up beef hot pot and Ovaltine.  Alarm set for four hours sleep and toasty warm, I went out like a light.
 

Day three - about 90 miles done

 
Still dark and I fired up the gas stove for porridge and Ovaltine, whilst I re packed.  I could hear others emerging from their bivi bags trying to get warm.  Thank god for my tent!
 
I was running solo again, navigating well and keeping a lookout for tracks in the snow.  It’s easy to stop navigating and rely onfollowing  others tracks but what with sheep and cows hoofs churning up the footprints, you have to keep concentrating.
 
I soon overhauled a group of four lead by Jenn Gaskell.  Jenn is over thirty years younger than me.  She is sponsored by Montane and, unlike me, actually wins Ultras!
 
Jenn was holding back as a couple of the lads in her group were struggling. On a race like The Spine you need to run at your own pace.  Staying with the lads was doing no one any favors. 
  Jenn’s and my pace were better matched so after a quick word with the others she joined me and we pushed ahead.
 
Jenn, the young Racehorse, and I, the old Carthorse seemed outwardly to be a mismatched pair. We powered up and over the spectacular snow covered heights of Pen-y-ghent. We ran on down to the café in Horton only to discover it was closed Mondays!
 
Climbing back up the hill we recalled the pre race briefing:  The 2013 Spine had been shortened missing out the Horton dogleg and about 3.5km, including a big climb.  We had lost well over an hour and the lads had caught us up again.  Still we felt we had done the “proper Spine route”.   Re passing the lads we chatted all the way to Haws.  (110 miles completed.)
 
We had our feet sorted and wolfed down the hot food.  Before leaving Hawes I raided the local butchers and carried of several pies and some local cheese.
Many runners only carry specialized energy foods such as jells and energy bars to save on weight.  I find I need salty foods and solid carbs. As a self confessed pig and carthorse I am not so bothered about the weight. If it’s not the sort of thing I would raid the fridge for, then it has no place in my pack . One superb “Spine Snack” is a  large jacket potato cooked in the CP with half a stock cube inserted in it. This is foil wrapped put in a plastic bag then stowed inside my down jacket. It will stay warm for up to 6 hrs in my pack . Hot food  and warm hands , a real boost at low moments.  I also used sachets of HP sauce squeezed directly into my mouth to keep awake!
My body is not so much ‘ A Temple ‘ as a ‘Council Waste Food Processing Plant’.
 
 Night fell and our route now took us up into the snow covered heights of Shunner Fell. With a howling wind, spindrift and no trace of the trail. We used  Jenn’s Garmin Oregon GPS to keep us on track.  (visibility was so bad that it was difficult to read any contours ) We waded, lurching forward through the boulders.  The snow was deep, up to waist height in places.  Behind us blowing snow immediately filled in our tracks.  Our water bottles had all frozen up and the going was getting tougher.  Jenn trudged just behind me walking in my footprints. I was on autopilot mode (head down and pushing on)
 
I shouted back to Jenn, “are you ok?”  Her reply was instant.  “I’m having the best time of my life!”  I was shocked to realize  I felt the same.  Here we were, two  miss matched knackered runners, short on sleep, fighting our way through a snow storm up an invisible boulder strewn path in the middle of the night   This was totally nuts and utterly wonderful!
 
We never stopped chatting that night and I soon found my roll had changed.  Jenn wanted to be the first woman to win the Spine Race and my new mission was to help her every way I could.  This took even more pressure off me and raised our already high morale still higher.
 
Team Age Gap Warming Up.
‘Team-Age-Gap’, as we called ourselves, was on a roll.  We would run until the early hours, and then make camp at the Tan Hill Pub, the highest pub in the UK.
 
The race organizers had been talking to the barman at the Tan Hill pub. He was keen to help the racers  and we had been given his phone number.  I phoned him at about 10 pm to let him know that we would not get there till 3am. I asked where would be the best place to put up the tent?  I was astonished when he said that if we arrived any time before 3 am we should shout outside his bedroom window and he would let us in to sleep on the pub floor! Who was this saint?
 
Team-Age-Gap eventually got to the pub at 2.45.  I found myself standing on snow covered table shouting up at various windows, watched by two bemused sheep.  I was trying to shout, yet being terribly British and trying not to make too much noise at the same time.
 
No response.  Now what?  Jenn shone her torch through the ground floor window.  Russ, another Spiner, had been kipping on the bar floor.  He woke up and let us in.  A warm room, running water, carpet, cushions and sofas - for us, sheer bliss.  We hung our wet gear over  the stools and tables  in the lounge bar and Within minutes we were asleep.
 

Day four - 130 miles done

 
Up before dawn, and despite eating some cold leftover chips we found , starving again! Decided to fire up my stove outside - I did not want to set off any smoke alarms.  Opening the fire door I was confronted by the two sheep who seemed intent on breaking into the pub!  I knew it was cold outside but if the local sheep were seeking shelter it must be bloody freezing!  Two hot meals and a bowl of porridge later we were ready to go.
 
The barman came down stairs and offered to cook us breakfast.  He was a real star.  He even apologized for not waking up!
 
We learned he had just returned from ‘a Cage Fighting Tour’ of the US.  Jenn now knows all of the seven moves you are not allowed to do to your opponent in a Cage Fight so you had better not mess with her!
 
Just as we started Dave Lee appeared.  He looked wiped out, having not slept for forty plus hours.  I suggested he go into the pub where our new Cage Fighting Friend would make him breakfast.  Dave would have none of it.  He wanted to come on with us.
 
My last memory of the pub was the sight of our Cage Fighting Friend standing in the snow feeding the pubs two pet sheep.
 
I phoned race control to give them an update on Jenn and I and also of Dave,s condition. Dave promptly shot off ahead but we soon came across him brewing up food.   For the next few hours Dave kept  yo-yoing around us but never at a steady pace.
 
About 10km short of the CP at Middleton, Dave vanished completely.  I phoned race control again and suggested they send someone to escort him in to the checkpoint.
We arrived at Middleton where Jenn’s Mother did a great job of looking after us both.  Dave soon arrived and was prescribed; ‘a good nights sleep’.  Jen and I showered, ate and crashed in the bunks intending to sleep for four hours.  One hour later my head was still buzzing.
“ Hey Jen, you asleep?”
“ No, I don’t think I can.”
“ Me neither.  Do you want to hit the trail?”
“Yes, let’s go for it!”
 
We arranged with Jenn’s mother to meet us in Dufton at 8 am, where we would sleep in her car for a few hours.
 
The path now ran along the Tees towards Cow Green Reservoir and the falls at Cauldron Snout.  We had been given special instructions on how to pass the Falls but long before we got there we found the trail disappeared among massive boulders alongside the icy rushing water. There were several sets of footprints leading up a near vertical slope away from the water.  We followed them up and over 2 km of horrendous energy sapping  boggy ground towards the lights of Cow Green Dam.  We never did see the Falls!   Far  ahead in the distance we thought we could see runners lights . We passed the Dam and followed a wide, gradually climbing track.
 

Day five

 
 Around 3 am Jenn dramatically started to fall apart.  I had not realized that she had just not been eating enough.  Without food she did not have the energy to generate enough speed to keep warm.  Once this cycle starts it’s difficult to reverse especially for a well trained runner with a minimum of body fat.  The early stages of hypothermia set in. Running with a partner can be vital as your decision making ability quickly goes down the pan!
 
Jenn was desperate to stop and camp - not, I felt, a safe option.  I argued that her mother would be waiting for her with a nice warm car in Dutton.  If we stopped on the high exposed ground she would get even colder and find re starting even more difficult. ( we needed to get down off the cold high ground as fast as we could)
 
I fed Jenn on shotblocks  and lent her my down jacket.  Crawling along at a snails pace  she could not warm up.  My next step was to carry her pack, take her arm and frog march her forward.  This helped but progress was difficult on the icy, rutted track whilst trying to carry two packs.  Jenn put her pack back on, as it helped keep her back warm, and I dragged and chivvied her foreword despite her pleas for us to stop.
 
Dawn broke as we crawled past the spectacular High Cup Nick but Jenn was past caring. I phoned race control again to update them  of Jenn’s situation and to make sure her mother and the promised “nice warm car” would be waiting in Dufton.
 
The ground sloped downward and a battered Team-Age-Gap  eventually shuffled into Dufton.
 
We arrived in a deserted Dufton only to find no car!  I sat Jenn on a bench, draped my sleeping bag around her and brewed up hot drinks preparing to put the tent up on the snow covered village green.
 
Much to my relief Jenn’s mother soon arrived with hot soup and food.  Her car looked, to a 6ft 2ins bloke, very small but somehow we both folded ourselves into the back . The strange angle of the folded back seats caused my calf to cramp but soon I dozed of.
 
We woke after about two hours.  The Dufton pub had opened and we all trooped inside to  eat chips and plan our next move.  I half expected Jenn to quit there and then but she was determined to go on.
 
I had my doubts that Jenn could go much further so we agreed that Jenn’s mum (An experienced hill walker) would  come with us for a while to see how Jenn felt.
 
Jenn was okay on the level path out of Dufton but as soon as we started to climb she slowed down and burst into tears.  Jenn could see that she was still struggling and was mortified that she might be ruining any chance I had of finishing the Spine. We could all see that this was probably true. Short of carrying her there was nothing more I could do to help her.  I reluctantly agreed that I would push on alone and Jenn would join the following, hopefully slower, group.
 
After a tearful parting I carried on up towards Cross Fell.  Looking back ten minutes later there was no sign of Jenn or her Mum.  The snow deepened on the exposed fell side and the wind was rising again.  I was deeply troubled that Jenn might not be able to keep up with the second group and try to go it alone! I felt I terribly responsible for her safety.
 
A local fell runner appeared heading to Dufton.  I gave him a message for Jenn telling her of the harsh conditions on the higher ground and that on no account should she run solo.
 
 I was physically strong but lack of sleep meant my  emotions were on a constant knife edge. About five minutes later I got a text from Jenn’s Mum saying Jenn had realized she could not carry on and they were walking together back to Dufton.  I fell to my knees in the snow and wept, partly from relief but also from knowing how much Jenn had wanted to complete the Spine.
 
Jenn and I had gained so much strength from each other and now it was up to me to finish this race for both of us!  Besides which, somewhere up ahead was the German Team!
 
The climb up to Cross Fell seemed to go on for hours with several false summits but at least I had daylight and tracks to follow.
 
Just before the summit I came across a sight that reminded me of how dangerous the fells could be.  The trail was invisible but for a few exposed flagstones.  I came across two stones with a gap of six inches between them.  Below the gap was a drop of two feet to a stream.  Anyone following the flagstones could easily have put a foot down the gap, instantly breaking their leg and in these conditions this could be fatal!
 
I pushed on harder wanting to get out of the danger zone and down to Greg’s Hut before dusk.
 
Greg’s Hut was a welcome respite.  John Bamber and the medics seemed to fill the place with good cheer, making it difficult to leave.  I had tea and soup then said my farewell and continued down the track.  100 meters later I realized I had left my remaining walking pole back at the Hut!  Cursing I ran back up the hill then started again.
 
I had hoped to make good time on this track but it was coated in ice and strewn with boulders.  The track also divided in places, then re joined.  None of these junctions appeared on my map.  Progress was frustratingly slow and by the time I got to Garrigill I was well and truly knackered.
 
A small pub lifted my spirits.  I fell through the door, ordered a pint of Coke and asked if they had any food. Unfortunately they were short staffed and no longer serving food.
 Looking round I noticed several plates of half eaten food. No one appeared to be guarding them so I sloped over and eat the lot. On looking up I saw a middle aged couple staring  at me.
 “Come far? ”the man asked, nervously.
 Edale I muttered“ I am running the Pennine Way.
 They were confused and worried by my answer.
 My gaze kept drifting towards their plates.
The man remembered this situation  described in a Ray Mears  survival program.
 He knew what to do : Give the Bear what it  wants , don’t make eye contact and back away slowly! The drooling animal before him with no manners and staring bloodshot eyes, certainly stank  and  acted like a Bear.
The couple abandoned their food , backed out the door and I moved in and  shamelessly cleaned their plates.
Grunting my thanks to the remaining customers I lurched back out into the night. 
A minute later one of the pub locals came running after me with my pole which I had left in the pub. I stuffed it into the top of my pack and pushed on.
 
 
Garrigill to the CP at Alston is only about 7km but again progress was slow.  My brain wasn’t working properly and I kept making navigation errors.  I passed about 2km of fields covered in rock solid frozen molehills.  I have never seen so many in one place.  I don’t think I was hallucinating but I was in no position to judge myself.  Each molehill was like a mini tank trap ready to break a runner’s toes. The mole hills were followed by a narrow track with overhanging branches which kept snagging my pole but I was to tired to stow the pole properly.
 
At last Alston CP, food and a few hours sleep.  Rather annoyingly the hostel drying room heaters were not switched on so I had to dangle my wet garments over the radiators before retiring to bed.  Keeping my feet dry was vital to prevent Trench Foot. Jenn was somewhere in the hostel fast asleep.  I never did see her.
 

Day 6  - 200 miles - somebody stop me!

 
I planned to be off by 7am.  Russell  Swift wanted to run with me but was not ready by 7. With three breakfasts inside me I could not wait.  The German team where about two hours ahead and I was determined to catch them!
 
Within the first five minutes I made a navigation error, which cost me time. As an Orienteer I must confess to being a bit of a navigational snob. I hate the idea of the GPS.  Now I needed to use all the tools at my disposal.  I reluctantly fished out my base model Garmin E Trex, determined to teach myself how to use it on a good trail in daylight.  Unlike  Jenn’s Garmin Oregon my GPS had no base map so I had to use the waypoints supplied by the Spine Team. All was fine if I had a visible path to follow but once it was obscured by snow I frequently ended up running through a bog parallel to a good flagged path. The waypoints were set just to far apart.  Map and compass proved faster than my GPS in daylight.
 
It soon became apparent that I was physically and mentally changed.  I was running faster than at any time during the race.  I had plenty to eat and energy to spare.  Somehow over the last five days I had re-programmed my body, turning me into an eating running machine!
 
I was high as a kite whooping with joy, tracking Germans.  The only one missing  from this rapturous scene was Jenn and my the  two dogs: Scooby and Suki, who I love to take running with me across Dartmoor .   I felt like Jim Carrey’s character in the film "The Mask" shouting out "somebody stop me!"  It’s a good thing the Spine medics were not around as they would have withdrawn me from the race for mental instability!
 
The ground flew by; at times I was hitting 7mph according to my GPS.  The sun came out for a time but the bogs were still frozen enough  to run over without getting the dreaded wet feet.
 
Next big landmark - Hadrian’s Wall.  Here the Pennine Way ran east into a biting cold wind.  The Spine team met me at one of the road crossings.
 
Conrad, one of the race organisers, ran with me for a while.  We chatted about how the runners felt about the race and how it could be improved for next year.
 
The subject of food came up and I confessed I could kill for a Camembert cheese or two. He thought for a while and replied "how about Brie?”   Yes, I said, three would be better!  Once my confusion had been sorted I learnt that Conrad lived nearby.  He had had a ‘Brie or two’ in his fridge and made a quick phone call.  One hour later, at the next road head, I was handed two Brie cheeses.
 
Dusk fell again and I parted with Conrad, turning north again towards a forested area.  I had been warned that there were two dangerous bogs before the forest and I must stick to the flagstones!  The snow had hardened and with no visible trail or footprints I struck out across open ground following the GPS waypoint line.  I found the bog but no flagstones.  A detour of 90 degrees left and right revealed nothing so nervously I tiptoed my way across the bog.  The same thing happened at the second bog.  I knew what was happening, I was running parallel to the trail but in these conditions unless I hit the flagstones spot on I could not find it!
 
The bogs had slowed me down but worse was to follow.  On entering the forest the main track was often joined by wide forest rides.  In the dark the rides were indistinguishable from the Pennine Way itself. The GPS waypoints did not take into account the winding of the trail so several times I found myself running up dead ends.  Not all the rides were shown on the OS map so I found myself frequently back tracking!
 
My worst moment came when I ran 500 meters up a blind ride.  I figured out from a GPS fix that the main trail was about 30 meters to the east.  The branches on the trees were so low that I was forced to take my pack off and crawl on my belly, dragging my pack behind me.  Once back on the path I was back up to speed again. A few minutes later I noticed I had lost my waterproof thermal cap.  There was no chance of finding it if I had lost it while crawling through the trees. It was a bitter blow.
 
The rest of that night was spent in much the same frustrating way. In low visibility missing the trail by  just 3 meters can be enough  to stop you dead.  My curses could have been heard for miles. Often I had to climb barbed wire topped walls as I could not make out  which way the gates were located.
 
At one point I came to a fairly wide river.  The map indicated a footbridge but none was apparent despite searching the bank up and down stream.  Eventually, muttering curses, I entered the foot deep ice cold  water avoiding the rafts of snow floating down stream. 200 meters later I came upon an obstacle that made me laugh out loud.  Before me was a farmyard with a 20 foot high pile of steaming cow dung and according to my GPS, the waypoint was smack bang in its centre!  Someone back at Spine HQ had a sense of humour.
 
It was with some relief that I eventually arrived at the Bellingham CP.  All the extra speed on that leg had been for nothing as the night navigation errors had wiped out all the time gained.
 
CP 5 was where my race was changed yet again.  We were due for 65 mph winds, -8oC and a blizzard!  With the forecast that bad I feared my race was over.
 
The Spine team called a conference.  It was decided that the only safe way the race could go on was if the remaining runners formed up in two teams.   I was to join Michael, Jin, Thomas, Anna and Brian and we would set off in three hours, at 5 am.  The second team of Dave, Annie and Russell (who arrived at CP5 a little later) would follow at 6 am. 
 
None of us fully appreciated it at that time but The Spine Race was about to get a lot more serious!
 

Day 7 - 222 miles done - 45 miles to go!

 
Russ Ladkins was carried  in to the Bellingham CP  by the medics.  Russ had been ahead of us but had to quit when his digestive system shut down and he became crippled by cramps . Russ was put on a plasma drip with  two of the medics  watching  over him while he tried to get some sleep.  All this activity was happening  in the bed next to me. I got next to no sleep.
 I was also worried about the next leg and my hat problem. I was considering cutting up my towel and wrapping  it around my head
 Much to my relief I was reunited with my thermal cap which the second team had found on Hadrians Wall. I knew I would need all my extra  kit to stay warm and safe over the coming leg. Preparing my pack I estimated I would be carrying over 10Kg.
 
 
Five am arrived and we were briefed on what was to come.  Anna was given a GPS tracker that would continually transmit our position on a Google Earth  to race control.  The tracker could be used to signal race control of problems (amber light) or too  transmit an emergency signal.  For now it would be on plain tracker.  The group had to stick together and look after each other.
 
We set off into the dark.  Michael was leading the way with his state of the art GPS.  He had every single path on Google Earth and OS maps programmed into his machine and so never strayed more than 2 meters off the path.  This explained why I could not catch them the previous day.
 
Progress was fairly fast but Michael’s pace was very inconsistent.  After about one hour we reached a road and Michael announced he was dropping out of The Spine.  We were all rather shocked and surprised.  He explained that for the last hour he had lost proper control of his body temperature.  He felt he would not be able to cope with the conditions forecasted for the latter stages of our last leg.  We managed to flag down a car and Michael got a lift back to Bellingham. It must have taken immense courage to take that decision this close to the finish line.
 
Thomas took over leading with his GPS.  The pace quickened, as we knew we had to get as far as possible before the blizzard set in.
 
Back at Spine HQ  unknown to us , our team had been named - The Trans EuropeanFreight Train or TEFT for short.  However on the ground our group was not yet a team.  Thomas and Jin had been together from the start and moved as one unit.  Anna and Brian had paired up several days before and behaved as if they had been married for years.  And then there was me, ‘Billy No Mates’, tagging along.  The group as yet had no real team spirit.
 
Things were not helped by cultural differences.  If the Germans stopped to eat or change layers we all stopped.  If the Brits did the same the Germans would continue marching off into the distance and the Brits would have to play catch up. Thomas marched at a totally uniform speed both up and down hill. I preferred to avoid sweating by moving slower on the up’s then speeding up on the flat’s and downs . Our dysfunctional group was stretched up to 200meters apart at times!
 
We marched through Redesdale Forest. A storm was approaching and we heard the sinister sounds of Bombs and Artillery from the military ranges to our East. I felt like a Hobbit approaching the dark realm of Mordor.   Often we had to step back from the dirt road as vast logging trucks sped past taking runs at the ice covered switch back hills. This was real ‘Red Neck country’.
 
We met the Spine team again at the road through Byrness.  There we topped up our water knowing that for the next 35km we would be on our own in what was essentially a wilderness. Our only hope of shelter were two Mountain Refuge Huts high up in the Cheviots.
 
Climbing out of Byrness I paused to put on more layers.  When I looked up everyone else had disappeared over the skyline.  I hauled myself up the slope to see Brian and Anna 50 meters ahead with Jin and Thomas 200meters ahead of them .   Neither Thomas nor Jin ever looked back. This was no longer a joke - we were not acting as a team.
 
I ran to catch up with Thomas telling him he had to slow down so we could keep together. Thomas stopped still.  He appeared to have only two speeds, fast relentless march  and; “please hurry up, I am getting cold waiting”!   Fortunately, as we climbed the snow was getting deeper so Thomas, who was breaking the trail, was naturally slowing down.  The group closed up and moved ahead.
 
At around dusk we reached the First Mountain Refuge Hut.  The wind speed increased and the snow fell more heavily.  Thomas, with his sheer strength, did the bulk of the trail breaking helping the rest of the team following in his tracks.  We started rotating the front runner as with conditions deteriorating no one person could ‘ trail break’ for long. The following team members tramped along head down following the leaders trench.
 We seamlessly slipped from being three teams into one powerful team.  The TEFT was now acting as a well-oiled machine.   I totally forgave Thomas for everything that had annoyed me earlier.
 
With wind and freezing snow blasting us from our right hand side we clawed our way forward along the Cheviots.  All liquid water in our bottles had frozen solid . The snow got deeper but under the drifts the bogs were not frozen.  Our feet kept being soaked then re frozen.
 
For some reason Brian had the worst problems.  Great balls of snow and ice had formed around his lower legs.  As the balls grew, the zips on his leggings were gradually forced up his leg exposing more places for ice to form.  He must have had over 1.5 kg of ice stuck to each leg.  His tracks looked like those of a two-legged elephant! Balls of ice also formed on the ends of our running poles 
 
Whenever we passed a solid fence post we kicked out to dislodge some of the ice on our legs.    The navigation was getting more difficult.  GPS batteries were failing in the cold and I was struggling to wipe snow of  my map, let alone read and  re fold it in the wind.  We knew we had to keep close to the fence but the snow and bogs were deeper there so we were forced away only catching glimpses of our ‘hand rail’ .  We kept counting  head torches  checking we were all still there.  If we stopped for a moment  our bodies started to freeze!  The situation was getting gradually worse and we all knew it. We just had each other, no help from outside was possible.
I think we all  had thought of pressing the amber alert button on the tracker but knew that the outside world could do nothing to help us
With the howling wind blasting snow and ice we could only communicate by yelling at each other with heads almost touching
 
Just before The Cheviot at 700 meters the trail swung NW.  Now we had the wind at our backs.  We knew there was a Mountain Refuge Hut about 2km ahead but that would take us at least two hours at the rate we were moving.  To make matters worse our slow speed was making the GPS pointer swing randomly through 180 degrees! We needed the compass to stay on line.  
 
Auchope Cairn appeared just as the GPS batteries failed yet again.  We huddled together and dug out more spare batteries.  Changing batteries was a nightmare.  Thomas had to take his gloves off while trying to keep snow out of the innards of the GPS.  Frostbite was a real danger and we were all chilled when we stood up.
 
With new batteries installed Thomas promptly started marching back the way we had come. As the GPS had failed before our last waypoint it was indicating that we had to go back up the trail! (to the missed waypoint)   I shouted to Thomas we had to go west and waved my map at him.
 
Thomas was convinced we had to’ follow the GPS’.  Dramatically he threw back his head and screamed into the night, “ScHIZZEEERRRRR!!!!!”
 
If Thomas, who I had come to regard as a cross between Robocop and The Terminator, was shaken we really were in trouble!
By now we could hardly see our feet or the person in front so  checking  the glow of head torches behind us  each time the leader was changed became more vital.
 
My OS map was trashed and did not show the exact location of the hut so I checked with Anna’s  map.(  It was marked but with no grid ref) West it was to relocate the fence. We hoped to god we find the hut soon! (and not miss it in the swirling gloom)
 
At last a square shape emerged out of the blizzard.  We fell through the door dehydrated, exhausted and incredibly relieved. It had taken us 7 hours to cover the last 10 miles!
 Thomas had some time earlier cut his leg quite badly and promptly went into shock as soon as he sat down!  Brian switched into doctor mode, covering Thomas up in a foil blanket and tending his wound. Anna went outside to collect snow and I got stuck in to melting snow and cooking   Jin just sat still looking stunned. We all knew how close we had come very close  to disaster.
 
We stripped off our wet clothes, blew up sleeping mats and got out our sleeping bags.  I fished out the Brie cheese from my pack and a body warm jacket potato I had been saving.  We shared them around while the snow melted then made hot drinks and Couscous .
 
Water production was tricky.  We had to keep going back outside into the storm to collect more snow to melt.  Another problem was sheer cold.  To get a decent cooker flame even the winter mix gas canisters had to be warmed up by holding a lit candle under them!  I think we made some re-hydrated meals but I don’t really remember. A solid fuel stove would have been useless.
 
There was just enough room on the wooden benches for four.  I elected to sleep on the floor as I had the thickest sleeping mat together with a down bag plus liner and my down jacket. We contacted Race HQ saying we would re-assess our situation in the morning.  I also gave my opinion that there was no way Dave’s team could make it to the second hut. (I later learn ed they had stopped at the first hut).
 
We woke up as dawn broke.  Out came the gas fire again for breakfast and making water for our bottles. The sun appeared briefly but was soon replaced by wind and blowing snow.  To get going we had to remove the blocks of ice from our shoes and gaiters.  We did this by bashing them with a snow shovel found in the corner of the hut.  Laces had to be thawed out over the gas burner as they were just lumps of ice.( My shoes were only 7 days old and I wondered if bashing them with a shovel and cooking them would nullify their guarantee .) Putting ice filled shoes back on was horrible but at least the spare wool socks helped. I silently thanked the Spine Planners for insisting on a compulsory kit list. I had used every item on the list including all my spare fuel and emergency foil blanket.
           
           We thought the last few miles would be easier but the Spine would not let us off that easily.  We had another steep hill to climb.  Although the blizzard had abated, the ground was now covered in deep snow.  We fell back into the ‘rotating the trail breaker routine.’  The depth of snow could be gauged by the number of wisps of grass protruding from the snows surface.  Snow covered heather seemed to be easier to walk on. We weaved forwards continually used our poles for balance and probing the snow.
 

  1. In the hollows the deeper snow was an unbroken white sheet.  We had to make detours around the deep snow.   Where a detour was not possible, we fell to our bellies on the snow, supporting our upper bodies by holding maps and poles flat to the snow surface and crawling forward!  Thomas found the deep snow particularly difficult; he was so large he kept sinking through the surface.We pushed on down the hill and the going gradually eased. 
 
  1. The TEFT 2Km from the finish line.
 
Not long afterwards we spotted two figures in the distance.  The local Mountain Rescue team had been sent up to check if we were okay.  We accompanied them back to their 4WD then headed on towards the finish line.
 
More figures appeared.  Most of the Spine Team and the medics had come to welcome us and escort us to the finish line.
 
My first words to Scott, the chief organiser, were, “Scott --------------- you Bastard!”  I did not know weather to laugh or cry as I hugged him.
 
We were all in tears when we finally reached out and touched the finishing line of the pub wall. I did not even care that the Pennine Way finishing bell had been removed for some unknown reason.
 
I had just spent the most emotional fantastic and wonderful weak of my life competing in The Spine Race and I would never forget it.
 
 
 

              How do I feel about The Spine Race Looking Back?

       For me, The Spine Race is female.  She will enchant you, frustrate you, and test you to your limits, lifting you up, then smash you down.  You will love her for her beauty and be reduced to tears by her cruelty.  You must never take her for granted and in return she will reward you with all she has to offer.
 
 
                                    What state was I in when I finished?
          45 mile Ultra the next day after a little sleep would have been no problem.
          Strangely, the worst damage to my body was a horrendous case of Athlete’s Foot , probably  not helped by my over stressed Immune System. My feet were swollen from insufficient time sleeping horizontally  but  my legs were fine. I did a 14 mile recovery run 4 days later.
           It did however take some time to re-set my apatite to its normal level.
            
                          The Spine Race In One Word
 
                           Brutal!
            My head had got me to the finish line. My body just tagged along.
 
 
                                        One thing I know for certain
                          Completing The Spine Race will change you forever!

Written by Nick Mead - http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/the-running-blog

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Ridge running on the CCC. Photograph: Pascal Tournaire/The North Face

My whole world shrank down to the few metres lit up by my headtorch as I crested the Catogne pass and left Switzerland behind to plunge through the forest into France. The mighty Mont Blanc massif whose spectacular vistas had energised me since leaving Italy that morning had blended into the night and I felt cocooned – conscious of nothing apart from the rhythm of my breathing, the sound of my shoes on the trail and the tic-tic-scrape of walking poles …

Oh, and the Alien creature looming out of the darkness – after 14 hours and 50 miles I guess it's no surprise that twisted tree trunks took on new forms and echoes became phantom runners as I started to slightly lose my grip on reality.

I had worried about the night section before the race, scared I wouldn't be able to tag on to the safety of a convoy of fellow runners. In the end I sought out solitary moments – a lone beam of light in the darkness, only able to imagine the Alpine giants towering above me.

A hair-raising 60-minute drop through the trees brought me to the Vallorcine aid station in the valley 770m below – where dancing green lasers and thumping eurotrash beats replaced the silence. Two bowls of noodle soup, some strong black coffee and a few slices of saucisson later and it was back out into the blackness – just another hilly half-marathon between me and the finish line.

The North Face CCC 100km ultramarathon had started at 9am that morning in the Italian town of Courmayeur, where 1,950 pumped up runners waved their hands in the air to the stirring sounds of Vangelis's Conquest of Paradise.

100km Ultra-Trail du Mont Blanc CCC ultramarathon through the Italian, Swiss and French Alps100km Ultra-Trail du Mont Blanc CCC ultramarathon – a rare chance to practise downhill running. Photograph: Pascal Tournaire/The North Face

I took it easy on the first climbs – a lung-busting 1,365m to the top of the Tete de la Tronche pass, followed by more than 815m down to Arnuva and a brutally steep 770m ascent of the Grand Col Ferret at 2,537m. I had only been in the Alps for a day and had no chance to acclimatise to altitude – and when the distant bird call I first identified as an alpine chough turned out to be the gurgling sound of my own breathing, I slowed further – crossing the first pass in around 500th place.

Saving myself at the start meant I had energy to run the flattish section through pristine Swiss villages into Champex-Lac by late afternoon – although I forgot about my plan to fill up on pasta at this point and paid for it not long after when I found myself walking along the lakeside, unable to force myself into a jog until a gentle downhill a few miles later.

100km Ultra-Trail du Mont Blanc CCC ultramarathon through the Italian, Swiss and French AlpsCheck out that well-earned view. Photograph: Pascal Tournaire/The North Face

I spoke to double Western States winner Tim Olson before the race (he came fourth in the 100-mile The North Face UTMB the next day) and he said he tries to imagine himself "kissing the ground" with his feet as he descends steep slopes. My downhill style is a bit heavier – and it was frustrating to lose hard-won places to runners who were better able to work with gravity.

Nevertheless, by the third pass I had moved up to 250th – and overtaking people during the last half of a race is always more enjoyable than going out too strongly and losing places later on. (Thanks again go to ultrarunner and coach Rory Coleman for the tailored schedule and low-carb, diet which saw me lose weight and gain strength in the run-up to the CCC – I don't plan to go back to eating pasta, potatoes, rice and bread outside of race week any time soon.)

100km Ultra-Trail du Mont Blanc CCC ultramarathon through the Italian, Swiss and French AlpsNick managed to contract 'walking-pole' elbow. Photograph: Pascal Tournaire/The North Face

In the early hours of the morning, near the bottom of the final 870m climb to Tete aux Vents, I finally entered "the zone" – existing only in the present, my mind empty, a relentless running machine effortlessly eating up the trail … Unfortunately, no sooner had I become conscious of this thought than the pain in my achilles tendon screamed its return, my poor feet ached and I got my first case of walking-pole elbow – but somehow it still seemed easier to climb ever-upward than to stop.

Another brief moment of bliss followed when I realised the line of headtorches I could see stretching impossibly high above me were actually stars – though the joy ebbed by the time I eventually topped out an hour later to see the bright lights of Chamonix below for the first time since we left at 6am the previous morning to catch coaches through the Mont Blanc tunnel to the start.

A final, fast, steep 1,095m descent spat me out in the back streets of Chamonix and I crossed the line at 3.40am, some 18 hours and 40 minutes after I started.

When I spotted the CCC a couple of years ago I really hoped just to finish and mix it up with some serious mountain runners without looking silly – so to cross the line in 177th and squeeze into the top 10% was more than I had hoped for given my woeful level of fitness not that long ago. All in all, the four events of the Ultra Trail du Mont Blanc week (the UTMB, CCC, TDS, PTL – to become five next year with a new 50km run starting in Switzerland) make up an epic series of races, with mind-blowing scenery and a real carnival atmosphere.

The only downside is the usual feeling of anticlimax after a big race. But the CCC finish provided the final three points I needed to qualify for the full UTMB next year – and the sub-19 hours means I can take my place in the ballot for the Western States 100, although I've still only got a one-in-10 chance of getting in.

Before that, though, there's just the small matter of 270 miles up the backbone of Britain in The Spine Race …

Written by Robbie Britton - http://robbiebritton.co.uk/

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Woah, that was tough. Real tough, like running through treacle for 153 miles tough. That race is a bastard. Roads, uphills, sun, night, cold, downhills and a death bus chasing you along.

I have written a full article to come out in Outdoor Fitness magazine to describe in great detail the beauty/evil of this race so with the risk of sounding like a broken record I’ve attempted to put down a few words here to those that know me about what happened on the streets of Greece.

I won’t lie to you, I set out fast, hitting the first marathon in 3.30 and getting through halfway in 12 hours. I had my eyes set on a sub 24 hour finish and I’d gambled my lot on this working. Basically I underestimated just how tough this race is. The hills are constant, gradual ups and downs that wear down your body, the heat makes you work out of your comfort zone and the strict cut offs force many to look over their back for the Grim Reaper Death bus, picking up all those who falter, if only for a second.

What followed was a 153km trail of vomit from 100k onwards and a battle to motivate and push myself to go forwards and not just sit down and give up. It was a different beast to all of my recent races and I was determined to prove I could suffer with the best of them.
I will be back in Greece for this race again, maybe 2014, maybe 2015, but I will be back. Do I regret the gamble, would I do it differently if I could rewind to that Friday morning? Nah, I’d still fly off, chase Mike Morton and go for a sub 24hr finish. I’ll learn much more from vomiting 30 times than if it all went swimmingly and the prize was a pretty cool thing to chase!

Basically I got my ideas a little above my station but I’m not going to change my ambitions, I’ll just have to try a little harder. A lot harder. Finishing that race reminded me why I love this sport and will drive me forward to greater things.

My support crew were invaluable at times in Sparta and were the always laughing, joking and helping me in any way they could, even Mick & Rebecca rubbing my vomit covered legs and then eating some crisps (I don’t know how that helped but they did it anyway). The pros and cons of having a support crew are many but that’s a whole different blog I reckon! 

Anyway that’s my season over, it has been a great one but bring on 2014. It will be better, I promise.

P.s. Thanks to Louis Waterman-Evans here is some evidence that shows how I felt through the race…

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