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

Ridge-running
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/

20131010-175036.jpg

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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Written by Neil Bryant - www.ultrarunninglife.com

Me just about to win Hardmoors 110!

My year so far has been going really well, though I feel that I am at capacity, race-wise. Any more just might tip me into the injury zone. So my periods of rest are all the more important now. I took two weeks almost completely off of running before the Hardmoors 110. It was relatively long at 113 miles and was split roughly in half, with the first half being over moorland and the second on the coast path. This sounded like a match made in heaven for me. My two favourite terrains, at a decent distance. It has only been going for a few years and originally it was a rule that you had to have a crew. I prefer to run unsupported so had just looked elsewhere for races to do. Then last year I learnt that it was now opened up to unsupported runners too. Once it opened for entries, I was the first on the list. Shortly after I had entered, Drew had entered. Time to recce! In December we had travelled up and ran the first 40 miles of the course. Drew wasn’t feeling very well so we finished there at Kildale. We had planned to get to the coast so to complete the moorland section. I never really had any more free time to recce again so would just have to be on the ball on the day. Drew got up again a few weeks before race day for a little recce.

The race begun on the Friday at 5pm, so this meant another day off work. It happened to fall on the same weekend as the diamond jubilee which meant that we were also being treated to a Bank holiday Monday and Tuesday. Plenty of rest time! Registration was in the lovely village of Helmsley. I was awake at 5am as I was signed up to take the baton for 10 miles for the Real Relay. This is an initiative dreamt up by Endurancelife when they saw the Olympic flame, and realised that it gets driven for much of the distance. They decided to start the ‘Real Relay’. It would follow the same route as the torch, but would be run the entirety. There would be no torch of course. It would be replaced by a baton that has a GPS tracking device attached. My 10 mile stint, begun at Hanham in West Bristol I passed through town, finishing in Flax Bourton on the deadly A370. After this I showered had some breakfast and we were on our way up North. We arrived at Helmsley at 1400. This gave us an hour before registration opened, so we found a tea shop and got a pot of tea to while a way the time. While we there I noticed Drew walk past outside. I got his attention and he came in and chatted. He was feeling good about it and was excited to get going seeing as this was his first major race for a quite a while now. Claire and his Mum were with him and they were going to serve as his crew for the duration.
Registration was efficient and thorough. I had a decent sized pack that was fairly heavy, though this was as usual mostly fluid. I don’t like to have the weight on my back, but am getting used to it now. I bumped into a few other usual suspects here. Alan, Mark, Fiona, and a few other familiar faces. People spoke of what their tactics were going to be. I had my now, tried and tested, super simple plan : I would run at a relatively comfortable pace, moving through cp’s as fast as possible and stopping at the end. I would only allow myself to get caught up in the competition aspect in the second half. The first half I treat as laying the foundations for a hopefully explosive second half. Ok, maybe not explosive, but consistent.
The briefing was informative and before I knew what was going on we were strolling round to the start point. The air is just electric in these moments immediately before a big race. Most people will have trained heavily for this, for many it will be their first venture into this distance… the unknown. I was feeling excited but relaxed. Other than the recce in December I had not really thought too much about it. I had dug my map out on the Thursday evening and in a bit of a panic begun marking the cp’s and self-clip points on it. I knew I was carrying some decent fitness and had no doubt that I would complete unless faced with some adverse situation.
I said goodbye to Lou, and was quite happy to be at the back of the pack with Drew. We were off! We had a 5 minute stretch of road before we stepped foot on the Cleveland Way. Drew and I instantly decided we needed to get past some folk, so we dashed around a few people to get a little nearer the front. Once on the path we could see that there were at least 20 people ahead. That’s fine as I don’t like to be at the front at the start of a big one. We will hopefully pass some of them later on. Now is the time to be vigilant. I must restrain myself and stick to MY pace which gets embedded in my muscles deeper and deeper with each day length run I complete. If people will pass I let them, If I fly past someone then I must be confident that I am doing MY pace and not getting caught up in the adrenaline soaked excitement of the moment. I’m getting better at this. I feel I am learning with each run now.
It was good to run with Drew again. I think the last time was the recce. We chatted lots as we plugged away. Drew was generally in front of us both and was pushing a pretty high pace, though I was ok with it and was surprised to see that still there were many runners up ahead. The trail climbs very slowly up onto the moorland for a fair few miles. It is very runnable and we were soon at Cold Kirby. A quick road crossing and we were soon heading out on the White Horse for 5 minutes or so on a very food foot path. We were still bunched up a lot here and I was looking forward to having my own space. We then dropped down some steep awkward steps down to the first cp in the car park where there were lots of people waiting. This would be everyone’s crews. Most people appeared to be stopping, but I had no reason to stop so continued along the trail that would climb up the same amount as what the steps had taken us down. I was generating plenty of heat due to the relatively high pace so took advantage of the steep walking hill to get hydrated. Once back on the high levelled out trail, Drew caught me back up again after stopping with his crew.
It was nowhere near as windy as when we were up here in December which made it much more pleasant. My memory told me that the first 40 miles weren’t too bad. Easy running for the first 15 miles or so, then a bit of up and downs thrown in to stretch the legs out a bit. A load of the trail had enormous stone slabs laid on it. If they were dry, then they were great for fast running, though if wet they were deadly. One real benefit though was that if you were on this stone trail then you knew you weren’t lost! The trail certainly was in very good condition at the moment, being dry but not rock hard. There was a little give to give some much needed shock absorption. I was wearing my trusty Saucony Peregrine shoes. These are my current all-round 100 miler shoes, taking mud, stones and road in their stride. Running around the edge of the escarpment was beautiful and fast. There was a group of around 5-10 runners that seemed to be sticking together well. When large groups of runners stick together on a 100 miler the odds are that some of them will be running out of their limits. It will possibly be such a small amount above their limits that they will be unaware of this redlining until it is too late.
Jon Steele and me looking a little weary

We carried on at a fair clip for a while and as usual, running the route for the second time always seems to go quicker, though we were definitely going quicker to. I was surprised when we passed the cp in the car park at Square Corner and started the descent that meant we were fairly close to Osmotherly. A little while later we were running down the stone path between fences that would bring us into the centre of the village. We turned right up the road where we could see a number of vehicles that were obviously crew vehicles due to having stocks of food neatly laid out for the runners when they arrived to make things as simple as possible. Drew  and I stopped at his car that had the boot open and a neatly laid out surface with things easy to grab and a cup of coke waiting to be drunk. Claire and Drew’s mum immediately offered me food and drink. I gratefully grabbed a few nibbles and we continued walking up the hill to the cp a 100 metres later. They offered us some food and I grabbed some flapjack. There was no chance I’d be running out of energy! We were then heading up a track that was to steep to run so we used the time to get some fluid in us. I was starting to feel a little stiff here, but it was fine.

We passed through Scarth Nick and followed the beautiful singltrack trail through the woodlands. I was happy to have passed through here while it was still daylight as we saw the bluebells which were still hanging around at this time of year. After getting my feet wet here after stupidly slipping into a stream we crossed a road and started a gentle climb. Drew dashed off for a call of nature and it was then just Paul Dickens and I, as the rest of the group split up. We turned right into the woods again only this time it was straight into a very steep climb. I knew that Drew would catch us up shortly as he was walking the ups really well. As we came out of the treeline, we were quite suddenly on the open moorland. The light was just starting to die a little here. There was still some time before we’d need our torches though. We would now be hitting the tops that would have the self-clipping points on them. These were orienteering clips that were at the very top of some of the hills that we had to stamp our sheets with. This was to prove that we had taken the correct path and not the easier lower route. Thankfully these were very simple to spot, being literally at the top of each hill marked with some orange tape.
We soon were passing over Cringle Moor where we met the two guys running the cp who were both very cheerful and had a tent erected that seemed to be full of food for us! Amazing. I grabbed some sweets and continued on my way. The weather was still pretty good and the temperature was just perfect for running. Then there was another road crossing which was another opportunity for the support teams to tend to their runners. Drew’s crew fed him and gave me some food. Claire dashed off to top my bottle up with water and was back in a flash. How incredibly generous of them. We moved off climbing up a hill immediately. We had both mounted our headtorches now but hadn’t switched them on. There were people ahead and behind who had them on though. Suddenly there were quite a few people around us. The lights make people stand out more. This was a decent climb that made me sweat lots. The temperature really didn’t seem to be dropping much. I was wearing my thin silk gloves and my hands were a little too warm. Drew and I were still keeping a decent pace going, and I was feeling pretty smooth. Once we had crested the hill, we soon hit a very good section of trail that very steadily climbed and was very runnable . I wanted to keep a good pace going along here and not waste these good sections during this early stage.
 

After running along this section for what seemed like a really long time, we hit the sign atBlowarth Crossing which had a self-clip tied to it. We clipped our sheets, then followed the trail which turned almost back on its self and I recalled from our recce was again relatively easy running, so it was head down and dig in now all the way to Kildale which was the first major cp where my drop bag would be. I would top up my supply of 9Bars, grab two new bottles of Lucozade and most importantly take my treat, being a pasty which I would eat as I walked away. The journey from Blowarth Crossing to Kildale on the recce was hampered by Drew suffering with illness, and incredibly strong, cold winds. This was a complete contrast, and maybe that had made me forget how long it took, as it seemed to be endless this stretch. Finally we got on the road and so there was just a decent downhill left then we would be there. We discussed our plan to be as swift as possible at the cp. Do what we had to do then leave.

On arrival, we saw Mark Collinson with Fiona and a Pot Noodle. I chatted to him as I accessed my drop bag commenting on how well he was going. His strategy was to go hard on the first section as he had heard that it was the fastest and he doesn’t see his strength as being in the lumpier stuff. I disagree, I think that he has proven how strong he is on many terrains including routes with lots of ascent. There was a table in the village hall that had a tonne of ‘party food’ piled up on it. I grabbed a handful of flapjack and walked over to Drew. He was ready to move so we walked out into the dark silent night and jogged down the road, knowing that soon we would have a decent uphill where we could eat our treats while walking. The ascent was pretty lengthy and I thankfully didn’t need to rush to finish my pasty. We then left the road and where following some beautiful woodland trail still upwards. I could see a light quickly approaching from behind. ‘Let them pass’ I told myself. There was still 70 miles to cover. He passed us effortlessly and as though he had just begun. We remembered the fact that there were three teams running it as a relay. Maybe he was one? We convinced ourselves that he must be which made us happier.
We exited the woods and were out on the moorland again and there in front of us was Captain Cook’s monument. No time to stop and admire. A slight kink to the right and we followed the trail for a further 20 minutes or so. All this time there were two female runners slowly gaining on us. We then came to the point where we had to go out and back to Roseberry topping. I was really looking forward to this section. Why, I’m not too sure, but it certainly felt like a milestone. A quick descent followed by a steep climb to the very top where there was a cp. Apparently Drew and I were in the lead. There were two ahead but they were both relay teams. The two ladies behind caught us at the top and we discovered that one was a relay and the other was buddy running. As we descended again, we passed those runners behind and got an idea of what was actually happening. Kevin Perry was pretty close and right at his heals was Mark.
After some nice running through Guisborough woods, We dropped down to the woods. As we met the road, Drew’s ever faithful crew were waiting to greet us. We were quick to get what we wanted before moving on. It was brightening up at this point, which is always a fantastic part of the run for me. To be able to remove the Petzl from my head is great, especially if I am sure that I will not be needing it again. I had used the batteries for a few hours before so wasn’t sure whether I would need to do a battery change during the night, but thankfully they had survived. We were getting very close to Saltburn now, which would mean the end of the moorland section and the start of the coastal section. This would also be just over half way covered. From here the race would begin.
Mark Collinson (3rd) and Kevin Perry (2nd)

The cp was in a hotel. Drew and I popped in and made sure we had been seen. I grabbed some cake from the table and Drew stocked up from his crew car. Then we made our way down to steps to the sea front. It felt good to be on the coast at last. I had never been on any of this trail before so it would all be fresh and exciting. I would also have to be on the ball to make sure I didn’t go the wrong way. Drew complained that he was feeling a little nauseous and just needed to be sick and then he would be fine. He thought that it was probably caused by the half dozen or so croissants he had eaten. After a few miles up on the cliffs we came down to pass through Skinningrove. I hadn’t seen anyone behind for ages, but when I turned to look on the road section there was a chap close by, running a lot faster than us. I couldn’t see a pack on him so assumed that he was relay, then I noticed his pack. As he gained on us I saw it was Kevin. As he was about to catch us, I accelerated a little and slowly left Drew behind. I must say that this was a bit of a panicy response, but I did feel in control, and was aware that Kev was still gaining. When he caught me we chatted and he went in the front dictating the pace. It was high! After ten minutes or so, he suddenly stopped and said something. I didn’t quite catch it and assumed it was a call of nature, so continued on my own, expecting him to catch me shortly. This little bit of an injection in pace and adrenaline pumping through me seemed to light my competitive fuse and I now had the bit between my teeth.

So, I am in the front of a long race again. It’s a love hate situation. It is of course exciting being at the front, but I also get pretty paranoid that someone is much stronger than me and chasing me down. I fight the desire to constantly keep looking over my shoulder  to get a glimpse of second place. I was running ok still so just tried to focus all my energies on keeping the pressure on. I was approaching Runswick Bay and the path turned inland. There ahead I saw what looked like Drew’s mum spot me then start running back to the car that was parked out of sight. When I arrived they both asked me if I wanted anything, I said I was fine, then Claire offered me a bottle of Lucozade. I gratefully accepted it, and told them that Drew was not too far behind but had a bit of a dicky stomach. Claire ran off to find him and I continued on my way. At the bottom of the hill was a cp. I stopped briefly, thanked the guys then carried on. I was now running along the beach at Runswick Bay. This carried on for a while before turning up a tight gully that climbed straight back up to the cliff top.
The running was very enjoyable from here. I was beginning a slight low point where I was struggling to run at all times. I was tiring mentally but knew this would pass, I just had to ride it out. This low probably dragged on for around 15 miles but I was still moving pretty good. Just before the next drop bag point where I would get my second pasty, I had a deer leap out onto the trail just 20 metres ahead. I slowed a little but continued expecting it to dash off, but he just moved slowly forwards on the path looking back cautiously as I approached. I love to see deers when I’m out running alone, but usually they will disappear rapidly, so this was a real treat and a gift at this difficult time during the run. Eventually the panic overcame it and it bounded off up a steep slope.
Next up was Sandsend, the location of my second pasty! I gingerly climbed down some small steep steps to the car park where the cp car was. I needed water here, but forgot to top up, and moved on pretty quickly, running scared from the phantom second place runner. It wasn’t till about 10 minutes later as I ran along the sea front road that I realised my blunder. I still had a fair amount of fluid on me so it wasn’t fatal but was more irritating to have made the error.
Not too much further on was Whitby, where I asked a member of public for directions and he was deaf. After much signalling what I wanted he pointed down the road. I ran where he pointed and saw the bridge that I needed to cross. After the cobbled streets where behind me I was off up the 199 steps to the abbey and found the trail again and was back in the groove. Time sped up a little bit for the next section which brought me to Robins Hood Bay. As I ran down the road through the town, I heard my name shouted out. I turned and saw Fiona waving. I walked across to her. She hadn’t heard from Mark for a while and asked if I needed anything. I said water. She gave me a bottle and I was off again.
The coast was roughly flatish along the top of the cliffs with dips down to rivers and streams. The next dip was the fantastically named Boggle Hole which was short and sweet. The next cp at Ravenscar came soon enough though I was still struggling a little mentally. I asked the guys at the cp if they had any idea how far the next runner was behind, and they said it was around 30 minutes the last they heard.  From here I was starting to feel as though the end was in my sights. The possibility of a win crept into my thoughts now and the race was surely on. Now was the time to put the pressure on!
My bloody great sword for a year!

I could see on my map that I was closing in on Scarborough. The other side was the location of the final cp which signified 13 miles remaining! The home straight. Once onto the road along the seafront there was a long run around the headland to the south beach area. It was here where I saw Lou running towards me with a big beam on her face! I wasn’t expecting to see her till the end so this was a massive morale boost and I felt emotional. We had an embrace then I continued to jog. I told her I was struggling. She said she would meet me at the next cp. She then got me a bottle of water and a wedge of chocolate brownie. Yum! She sped off and left me alone. I straight away walked for a minute or two, before telling myself off and lurching back into a slow jog. This carried on around the corner. Eventually I arrived at the final cp where Lou was. I downed a load of coke (I never drink coke!) then was off. I felt good now and was on a mission to nail this thing! I was determined to run every last bit now unless it was very steep. The weather was glorious and I really was appreciating the whole day. I was really enjoying myself here and definitely had pulled myself out of the dip I had been in for a little bit too long now. I was really feeling as though the win was looking like a definite now. Life was good. I had what I thought was a stone was in my shoe under the ball of my foot. It was quite annoying but nothing more. When I finished, I learnt it was in fact a blister. I can’t believe I can still fall for the ‘blister feeling like a stone in the shoe’ business.

I entered Filey and looked at the directions I had printed off of the website that would guide me to the secondary school where the finish was located. I found my way with no issues and was soon running the grounds of an apparently deserted school. Then I spotted the flags that acted as the finish line and there was a photographer who just managed to get a picture of me finishing.
I’d won! I was completely not expecting that. I thought that sub 24 hour time was an ambitious target, maybe too much, but I had finished in 22:44! I walked into the sports hall where people were. They congratulated me and offered me food and drinks. It was good to sit down. I hadn’t sat down once and it was the best thing. Soon Lou turned up and after a glorious shower and seeing Kevin Perry finishing, we were off to find a meal and back to the B&B which was a fair drive away in the Dalby forest. 

Suunto download of the race.

Next day I returned for the prize giving. I received a tankard to keep and a sword that I look after for the year! And what a sword it is too! The previous winners names are engraved on it along with the times. It has to be the coolest prize I have ever received.
So, the year continues and the list of races leading up to the big one slowly shrinks. Next up in two weeks’ time (three weeks after Hardmoors) I have what I consider to be the hardest single stage challenge I will be running this year, the Ultra Trail South West. It is a 100 miler, but it is on the Gloriously tough South West Coast Path. This is a race that I have been excited about from the second I heard about it.
Anyhow, I feel all blogged out now. I almost feel like I should apologise for my blogs going on for ever, but I guess that if you have got this far then you are probably getting some sort of entertainment out of it.
Happy running!

Written by Neil Bryant - www.ultrarunninglife.com

In 2010 I remember reading about the Trans Gran Canaria. Then James Adams went out to run it last year. I was looking forward to see how he rated it on his return and to read his blog entry on it. He was not disappointed! He said it was one of the toughest single day races he’d ran in. His pictures were also convincing. The views looked to be stunning. It looked good to me.

 
The race has been running for over 10 years now, and was growing year on year thoughnot on the same scale as theUltra Trail Mont Blanc. Like the UTMB this event was sponsored by The North Face. This meant that you would get something decent for finishing and also that there would be some big names there from the ultrarunning world. This would be my second international race after theSpartathlon and I was really quite excited about it from the day I entered it last year sometime. I would be leaving the damp, cold winter of the UK and flying into fairer climes.
 

After my run on the Offas Dyke at the end of last year, I’d been clocking up some good mileage. Most of it though had been on the flat road with Trans Europe on my mind. This wasn’t exactly great prep for a race that has a lot of elevation gain and is mostly offroad. In fact, a lot of the trail is supposed to be very technical in places. This was not a race I would be after any great results, as shown by the not exactly ideal preparation. What I was after here was just the experience. I wanted to enjoy running in the sun, in the mountains and to hopefully catch a beautiful sunrise. I of course would put everything into it once I had started. I am pretty strong at the moment, just probably not so great in the hills. I’ll get my excuse in now before I get going. Two weeks before the event I got a cold. I felt really run down as I was training at a pretty high volume so stopped running. As the days passed, the cold developed and eventually I got an upset stomach. I remained fairly positive and saw it as a welcome forced rest before the event. As I’ve learnt over the years, a week or two off when your fitness is reasonable never really does any damage. In fact it can be a blessing in disguise! As it turned out, when I got on the plane, I had run twice in two weeks. Not quite what I had planned but I wasn’t concerned.

I had booked my flights from Gatwick on the Thursday morning at 0920. This meant gettingon a train that I didn’t know existed – the 0420 from Bristol! Needless to say that with the adrenalin flowing I didn’t sleep much that night and the alarm for 0330 was a little testing. All went smoothly though and in a few hours time I was sat on the plane. I soon notice a familiar face. Mark Collinson who finished just 10 minutes behind me in the North Downs Way was walking towards me with his wife Fiona. There were a few spare seats on the flight so we could move around a bit and the three of us could sit together. I had heard that Mark was racing only a short time before. Up till that point, I wasn’t sure if there were any Brits in it. The flight went pretty quickly as we chatted loads. We also both discovered that we had both just bought a new bag in the last week and we both had it with us for the race even though we’d only used it once so far. We both had bought the Salomon Advanced Skin S-Lab 12 set. It is a very expensive bag, but we were very excited about testing it out over Gran Canaria. Mark had run the 124km race last year and Fiona had run the 42km race. Mark was doing the long one again this year, and Fiona was stepping up to the 96km event. Excellent stuff! I picked Marks brains for course information. Soon enough we were off the plane and travelling up the coast on the bus to Las Palmas. My cheap hostel I’d booked was within a 5 minutes walk of the bus station which was nice. I checked in with no bother and made my way up to my room which turned out to be cool, quiet, clean and comfortable. It was very basic, but that’s all I needed. The corridors always stank of cigarette smoke, but it would never seep into my room so I didn’t care. I dumped all my stuff off and immediately went for a wander out to the local supermarket to pick up some supplies. It was around 3pm and I was going to meet up with Mark and Fiona sometime after 5 when we would be at the registration area which was a 15 minute walk down the seafront. I found a backstreet café and popped in for a coffee. My Spanish is pretty non-existent due to never actually having been there so this was fun. Soon enough it was time to wander down to the registration. The weather was a little blowy and about 23 deg Celsius. Not too bad really. I queued for a while and eventually handed in my forms, picked up my timing chip and my race number and was ready. I then went and burnt some time in the rather dull shopping mall across the road, before bumping into Mark and Fiona. The pasta party was in a bit and Mark and I were willing to hang about for it. Fiona was tired so was heading back to their hotel for a lay down. We had a coffee while waiting before heading down to the Pasta party. It was ok. Certainly enough of it though! That night I slept pretty good considering I was buzzing a fair bit for the race.
 

The race starts at midnight and the buses that leave for Las Palomas which is thesouthern point of the Island and the start, leave at 2200 so I had the whole day to just relax, get my kit ready and drink lots of coffee. I really enjoyed my day of relaxation, practising my exceptionally limited Spanish, but in the background of my mind I just wanted to be running in the mountains. The weather forecast was ok for the Saturday. The following year they had had lots of rain which had made it pretty cold at times. I tried to have a doze during the day but it was a pointless exercise. I got back up and begun packing my kit up into my bag. The first water point on the course is at 18 miles so I decided to take lots of fluid with me. The full 1.5ltrs in the bladder and two 500ml bottles in the shoulder strap pockets. I got dressed and fully ready, and after taking advantage of the hostels wifi and having a quick conversation with Lou, I was on my way. I walked slowly down to the bus pick up point where there were a steadily growing number of other trail runners hanging around. I sat down and took it all in. Then I saw a few guys that looked British. Sure enough, one of them approached and introduced himself. Matt, Jess and a lady (Helen?) all seemed pretty experienced and lived up around the Yorkshire Dales. This, like me, was their first time at this race. We got onto the bus and then Mark and Fiona arrived too. Within the hour we were parking up in Las Palomas. As we disembarked we felt the strength of the wind. It was a little fresh and we had over an hour left before the off. We found a little bar we could sit in near the beach where the start was and ordered lots of tea and coffee and kept warm. I swear this is the hardest bit. The long wait before the start!

 

Then with about ten minutes to go, we made our way down to the madness on the beachand squeezed in behind the start line. I started up my Garmin to hunt for the satellites that would be getting well used at the moment, and hopped around on the spot trying to stay loose for the start.

After much hype and noise we were off, and within minutes we were away from the crowds and lights of Las Palomos and were runningalong the beach right beside the sea. Initially I am running near no-one I recognise, but soon the tall figure of Mark bounds up behind me and taps me on the shoulder. This is always a great part of a race for me. There has been much waiting and hanging around, but right now I am running, I feel great. I grin just for the moment and my grin broadens as we head further away from the light pollution and the number of visible stars grows with each footstep. Mark and I are going a fair pace right next to the lapping waves so that we are on the relatively easy to run on damp sand. A few people have wrapped their feet and lower legs in bin bags and taped them up so as to keep the sand out as if we are in the sand dunes of the Sahara. I have heard this is a complete waste of time and at the moment that certainly seemed the case. As we continued along the beach I realised that most people had their torches on except Mark and I. You just didn’t need them yet, as the moon wasn’t quite full, but was incredibly bright. Mark had a problem with his bladder as his tube seemed to be kinked inside preventing there being any flow. He wrestled with it for five minutes trying to improve the flow. Once he’d sorted it, he apologised for slowing the pace. I didn’t notice any pace change. We had now passed over the 200 metres or so of dry sand to get on the tarmac. There were a few people here sat on the road cutting off the bin bags that they had pointlessly taped around their legs. We were now heading inland. We would not be at the coast again till we finish at the other side of the island. Soon we dropped down into the storm drain which had a pretty uneven surface so kept us alert. There were many people out shouting and cheering as we passed. We went under many bridges which had lots of people on watching us. Not bad for after 1230 in the morning! It won’t be long till the people fade away and the gaps between runners grows till you are seemingly alone. This is what I love. I love to be alone in the mountains. There is something special about pushing yourself hard, seemingly all alone out in the wilderness. It’s very simple and rewarding. We passed under a bridge over some rocks and Mark fell and bounced up again. Time for the lights to go on I think! We were now on a dusty wide trail that was slowly gaining height. It was still very runable though so we pushed on. The dust was getting kicked up from the runners ahead and was being highlighted by our lights. The gaps were opening up a little, but there were still a few runners around us. It was nice to be running with Mark. Our pace was pretty sharp, but that’s what we both wanted seeing as it was one of the fastest parts of the course. Slowly but surely the gradient increased, till soon enough we agreed that a walk was in order. We then went round our first hairpin bend. I was glad to be in the hills now. This is what I came for.

After a while I was starting to find my groove. As we ran at the base of a climb Mark saidhe was going to walk, I felt good so said goodbye, and said I’ll probably see him in about half an hour. I was now alone. There was soon after this a decent length downhill. I went as fast as I could while staying smooth to save my quads as long as possible. The course has a lot of downhill at the end so will certainly be demanding a lot out of them later on. Almost from the start my Achilles were pretty painful. From previous experience I didn’t really know what to expect from them as the race proceeded. I have on more than one occasion finished an all day run and realised that the pain I had been experiencing for the first 20-30 miles that was promising big things in my feet or Achilles had in fact vanished. A phenomenon, which I am most confused about. I soon saw lights ahead that signified a village, and judging by my Garmin, was the first water point. I crossed over a narrow bridge that led to a water bowser surrounded by cheering people. This was the 18 mile point. I was feeling nicely warmed up and was well into my rhythm so didn’t really want to stop. I reached behind my back and felt my bladder. It felt pretty full. I had only half a bottle left on the front. The next cp was in 8 miles. It was supposed to really get much more mountainous from here on in but I guessed that I easily had enough fluid to get me to the next stop so just ran straight through the cp. I immediately begun climbing and once it got too steep to continue running, I walked and immediately took the opportunity to eat some food and drink more.

I had begun the race with my new Team Endurancelife multi-sports short sleeved top (a cycling top) with arm warmers thin gloves and a buff. Within minutes the buff and gloves had been stowed away and the arm warmers had been pulled down before I had begun heavily perspiring. I had not stopped and my back was completely sodden, so I was quite aware that fluid intake was (as usual) paramount to a good performance. I was quietly hoping that the day wouldn’t be a scorcher when the sun rose. Up till this point the trail had been wide and relatively untechnical. This was about to change as the marker tape suddenly directed you off the trail steeply up some rocky singletrack. I really tried to keep the pressure on as I walked and this was showing as I was generally catching and taking people. Things were feeling pretty good and I was really enjoying it. I was so excited to be in the hills for the sunrise. The star-studded sky was promising a beautiful day coming up.

I soon passed through the first stocked cp and topped up my bottles, ate a handful of cheese, cured sausage and ran off with more in my hands eating as I ran.

The terrain was now pretty demanding and was pretty intense mentally watching your footing in the dark. The hills seemed to be relentless with no real flat not too much down and plenty of very steep, walking ups. I powered on. I was having many little stumbles but not falling. It was surely a matter of time before I went down? I was now seeing the beginnings of daylight as I came across the top of a hill and begun a super steep and rocky descent a Spanish guy effortlessly came past me. I let him go and made my own way down. Just before the gradient eased off a little, another chap came past. It was now a little quicker so I sped up. Minutes later I stumbled and fell forwards. I broke my fall with my hands and my knee hit the deck. I got up quickly and checked the ground for anything I may have dropped before continuing. As I ran I checked myself over. My hands were relatively untouched with just a small graze on one palm. Just before I climbed some steps that would take me to the top of a damn I would cross, I switched my headtorch off. What a relief! As I passed over the damn, I looked around to take in the stunning, dramatic mountains I was surrounded by for the first time. Truly incredible scenery that I was extremely excited to be running through for the whole of the day. There was now a couple mile stretch of road. As I made my way up the hill I caught a small figure which as I got closer I realised was a lady. She was going pretty slow. As I passed her I looked across and wished her well. She thanked me in a English. I carried on for a while and then stopped to pack my Petzl away as she caught me up again, I realised that it was no less than the incredibly accomplished Lizzy Hawker. We chatted a little and I decided to also get my camera out and carry it for a while to take some opportune piccies for the next few hours. She offered to take a picture of me with the stunning backdrop that was developing as we spoke. I felt sorry for her as she was injured so was pulling out. Let’s face it that’s the only time I’ll ever catch Lizzy Hawker up! I said goodbye and moved on.

 

After a slight descent on the road the markers took me off up the side of a mountain again. That’s better. Much walking ensued as I quickly gained height and admired the ever-changing panorama that presented itself to me. Sightings of other runners were few and far between now. It was peaceful and quiet. I was tiring but still felt strong. My mouth was dry so I kept drinking. I seem to have a bad habit in races of getting a little dehydrated then playing catch up which I seem to be getting better at. I think it would make a lot more sense though if I could not get behind in the first place!

I passed through another cp after a steady climb on a wide steadily climbing trail. I had my chip read here before forcing myself to down about a litre of water, filling up my bladder and bottles, eating a few bits and taking on some electrolytes. I was feeling dizzy. The heat was affecting me. If I could just catch it now, I’d be alright. I left the cp and immediately was directed off the good trail straight up a steep and very long rocky, dust path. There was a little vegetation around so was provided with a little bit of shade, but I was already suffering from my past neglect. I kept taking sips of water and squeezing the sickly Overstims electrolyte gels into my mouth to re-energise my fading body. I felt dizzy and was swaying from side to side. Must keep drinking! I held onto the knowledge that as long as I got back in control, that this would pass and I would feel good again and would be running strongly. This particular climb just kept on going, but finally I made it over the top. Five minutes later I looked ahead to look for the path and could see none, just the red marker tape threading it’s way up a slope of large rocks to the very top of the mountain. It wasn’t very long but it was certainly hard on my weary quadriceps having to scramble with the aid of my hands up this wall of rocks. As I got to the top I turned and looked at what I had just climbed and took a picture, knowing full well that it wouldn’t show the severity of it. I then realised that although I felt exhausted, I was certainly not feeling the dizziness and lethargy of before. It had passed. Now to get on with the race.

The hills kept coming, and I kept the pressure on as much as my fitness allowed. I knew that the race route visited the highest point on the island, Roque Nublo. This is basically a very large upstanding rock formation on top of a mountain that could be seen from far away. I kept getting glances of it as I progressed and got closer and closer. I soon realised that I was now actually climbing up to visit this impressive landmark. I was currently running with a Spaniard. We climbed for a while before being directed left off of the trail heading straight for the top. We climbed up a small gully before being on the surreal landscape at the top. We were on a large plateau, which the rock formation was atop. It took a minute or two to cross this plateau to reach the cp which also had a chip mat. I stopped for thirty seconds here and admired the incredibly beautiful view. There were almost completely clear, blue skies now. You could see the sea and some of the other islands that make up the Canaries. I quickly took a couple photos before running back across the plateau. After stupidly not being able to find the gulley back down again for a few minutes I made my way down then rejoined the main trail again heading down with some light shade from the trees. I was feeling pretty exhausted now and was just plugging away one step at a time. I kept looking around at the surrounding mountains looking for the highest. The general rule was whatever was the highest mountain nearby, then that would be your next destination. I could see there was an observatory on top of a pretty high looking mountain. Surely…?

Within half an hour after making my way across the valley floor I had started the slow and very steep climb up towards the observatory that was sparkling in the bright sun. The footing was loose and dusty, but I soon got to the top knowing that there was soon to be a major cp where I would stop to refuel and top up my provisions fully. There was a long and very steep and therefore painful descent that followed. There certainly seemed to be a little more greenery around now, though it was still really dry and dusty. I then entered the cp. My bag was taken off me to fill the bladder and bottles. I walked into the tent and took a bowl of pasta, grabbed a handful of cheese and sausage and mixed it in and sat down a wolfed it down with some luke warm coffee. I put my bag back on before grabbing a soup and speed walking off with it. I had probably been in there 10 mins. Too long really, but not that bad. This was the 50 mile point. Hopefully in around 10 mins I would start to feel the effects of all this fuel ‘d just stuffed in. The soup was hot, but soon I had finished it and painfully started to run again. Around a marathon left and the last 12 miles was largely downhill. It would be painful but fast hopefully. So I just wanted to push the next 13 hilly miles really hard before the down commenced.

Sure enough I soon felt a little bit perkier. So sped up. These are the times when races are made or lost. You must go hard when you feel good, just not too hard. I was now overtaking numerous runners from the 96km race and even some who were in the marathon. All very positive, and helps to keep the pressure on. I was really enjoying working at a high level. I ran along a short stretch of road, then cut down a long descent into a very green almost tropical valley before finally running on the awful river bed for around 4 miles. My feet were pretty sore by now and running on the large uneven rocks was pretty difficult. I stopped to walk briefly a couple of times, but was still overtaking runners from the shorter races. I hadn’t seen anyone from my race for ages now. Then just as I was coming to the end of the hell of the riverbed, I was overtaken by three guys from my race! I let them pass on the riverbed, then as soon as I got onto a more runnable surface, I grit my teeth and told myself that I would now run the whole lot as hard as I could and not look back. Within minutes, I had passed all three of them and was hell bent on continuing in this vein all the way to the finish line. I did occasionally look back, but I needn’t have as the gap just grew. I was really hurting but knew that I could keep going till the end. I think after some time for reflection that this was probably one of the strongest finishes I’ve ever ran. It felt good to be wringing every last drop of energy out of my body in a controlled way. As I dropped down a long fast descent I could make out the finish are in the distance. I passed another runner, then as I got closer, I spotted another runner ahead. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice me straight away and bolt, but he did. He accelerated fast, but I was gaining on him, we were now on the seafront and there were throngs of people cheering us on. I was totally at my limit now and had nothing more to give. I was about 20 metres behind him now. I then realised that the we had to pass the finish line by around 100mtrs then turn back and run the final 100mtrs to the line. That was too much for me then. I was forced by my screaming body to slow and watch the guy ahead continue and climb the rather cruel ramp up to the finish line. I finished shortly after knowing that I had given absolutely everything.

Garmin download

I staggered into the mess tent and gawped around. I then noticed Fiona chatting to a member of staff. I discovered that she had just finished also. We grabbed a plate of food each and sat down. I felt ill and couldn’t really eat. I needed to just crash out. I really wanted to hang around and cheer people in, but I just felt so rough that I slowly walked back to my hostel, showered and then passed out till 4am.

The next day and a half before my flight was a blissfully relaxing time in which much coffeewas again consumed. I learnt that my time of 17hrs 43mins was enough to place me in 20th position! This was way above my expectation. I couldn’t believe it. It has to rate up there as one of my biggest performances seeing as it was an international race. Mark had gone around 2hrs quicker than last year and Fiona had come in 3rd spot! A phenomenal performance seeing as it was her 2nd ultra. Amazing stuff!
All in all this was an incredibly tough, fun and beautiful course, that I would definitely love to do again one year. Other than getting a bit dehydrated again, I am more than happy with my performance.
 
My next race is the Viking Way Ultra, which promises to be very tough but very different at almost double the distance. I will not be racing it. I really just want to get to the finish line. Before that though there is a gap for some Trailblazing so it’s adventure time.
 
I’ll let you know how it goes soon.
Happy running.

Written by Neil Bryant - www.ultrarunninglife.com

Last year I had applied for the Ultra Trail Mont Blanc, but unfortunately as this is such an oversubscribed event I was one of the unlucky ones to not get a place. Fortunately though I had scanned around the race calendar to see if there was a suitable replacement and had spotted a new race, the North Downs Way 100which was too be the inaugural race for a new setup called Centurion Running. James Elson was the Race Director, and had completed some classic US 100 milers and was aiming to model the NDW100 on the US races. i.e. Well marked, well stocked aid stations and most importantly, a belt buckle for those completing in below 24hrs.

 

I hadn’t really targeted this race, it was more a stepping stone to the Spartathlon. This wasfunny when I realised that I was looking at a 100 mile trail race not as a main target. How the confidence grows and the targets change! A couple years previously, a 100 miler would have been a major target that I would have prepared for over a fair amount of time. Now, it was a big race (100 milers will never not be big!), but there was a confidence that never existed before. I knew, barring a serious incident, that I would complete it, it was more a case of how quick!
How quick could I do this in? I wasn’t too sure really. I really wanted to beat 24hrs for the buckle, but beyond that I really wasn’t sure. On paper I reckoned I could go sub 20, but for some reason this seemed too quick, so I plumped with sub 22hrs. My year had been pretty good so far, but I had eased off the pressure a little lately so was unsure of my form. It was only when there was a week to go before the race that I started to really think about it. I was pretty excited and I was beginning to to realise that I wanted to have a good race for a final little boost before Spartathlon.
On the Friday after I had finished work, I picked up my kit which seemed pretty sparse, and rushed down to the train station to catch the trains to Farnham. I had organised to meet Claire Shelley at the station who would been in her car and would drive to the hotel where we were to share a room. I had met Claire at a few races, namely the Grand Union Canal Racewhere she stormed it with a fantastic 3rd place. She was supposed to be running, but due to injury she was doing the next best thing, crewing! After a little bit of poor route finding, we eventually found our hotel. We checked in and went straight down to get something to eat. We had a nice but overpriced meal a good chat, then went back up to the room. I did my usual ultra faff around sorting my kit out for a swift exit in the morning, had a quick shower then got into bed for a better than usual pre-race sleep.

 

The first of three of Claire’s alarms went off at around 4:30. I got up and ate a couple bowlsof muesli. I grabbed my kit and we went down to the car before making the not as scenic route back to the school which was being used as the race HQ. We met some familiar faces in there and milled around for a bit waiting for the briefing. We learnt at the briefing that the course was dry and in good condition. It would be fine to wear road shoes. I was wearing a brand new pair of unknown shoes I’d bought that week. They were a pair of Saucony Peregrines. Pretty low profile, lightweight shoes with pretty decent tread. They felt really comfortable, so I was happy to give them their maiden voyage on a 100 miler. Not the first time I’ve done it either, and it was fine then! I’m constantly experimenting with shoes. I never expect to find the perfect shoe, but I like to try different things, and I’m a bit of a magpie with new, flashy shoes!
After the briefing, we all started off on the short walk to the start of the trail. We lined up at the start, I got pretty close to the front, and in 10 minutes or so we were off. I wasn’t unprepared, but I certainly seemed to have prepared less than most that I spoke to. I had barely even researched the trail, and I hadn’t organised any drop bags for the cp’s. As previously mentioned, the course was supposed to be really well marked, and the supplies at the cp’s were supposed to be good so I was relying on that, traveling light and stress free. I like to run as clutter free as possible these days. I was carrying a few 9 bars, and Elete salt solution to add to my water to keep my electolyte levels at a healthy level during the race.
On the day there was to be a marathon, which would start later on in the day, and a 50 miler which had started at the same time as the 100 milers. It was a out-and-back course, so for the first 50 miles the 100 milers would have the company of the 50 milers, but when they would reach the cp at the 50 mile point, the 50 would leave the 100′s to complete the course alone and going into the night.
I initially was running with Mark Collinson, who I discovered five weeks previously had won the South Downs Way race, a 103 miler in 19hrs 42 mins! An impressive time, and even though he thought that he wouldn’t be able to perform at a similar level five weeks later, I was convinced that if you have the condition to run a sub 20hr 100 miler, then you certainly have the ability to recover really well within five weeks. We were chatting a fair bit, as we passed through the first cp, and realised that we were going a decent pace, maybe a tad too quick, but it felt good, so I stuck with it. There were only around 5 runners ahead, but I had no idea whether they were 50 or 100 milers. When we arrived at the next cp, I grabbed some gels, drank some water and ran off as soon as possible. I noticed that Mark was still at the cp as I ran off. I was now with a few other runners which I discovered were all 50 milers. I soon discovered that my pace was similar to one of the 50 mile guys, who I soon learnt was called George. We chatted a fair amount about all sorts and retained a fair pace which I was happy about. I’d half decided that I wanted to go off a little faster than normal and running with George seemed about the right pace. As we dropped down through Denbies wine estate, George pointed out a hill in the distance and informed me that it was Box hill. I was looking forward to climbing up Box hill as it was the only real climb on the whole course. Not to say that the course was flat as there was around 3000 metres of ascent. Not big climbs, but pretty lumpy to say the least.
We both reached the cp at the bottom of Box Hill where I loaded up on some cheese and ham wraps, topped up my water and packed a few more gels into my bag. The cp crew told me that I was the first 100 miler to come through. I was really surprised, but moved on with George pretty sharpish and tried to forget the fact that I was in the lead. After crossing over the river using the stepping stones, we soon hit the base of the climb. It was pretty steep, and stepped. It was really pretty warm now, and as soon as I started working so much harder, the sweat was pouring out of me. I seemed to be keeping on top of my fluids again, but there was a long way to go so I had to stay alert and keep taking sips from my bladder. I kept feeling drip down the back of my legs throughout the day, I kept mistakenly worrying that this was my Camelbak bladder leaking, but it was just the sweat pouring off of me! Soon enough, we were finished with Box Hill and were running through some more amazing singletrack through the woods. I was feeling pretty good still, but was aware that the pace was still pretty hot. I was intrigued to see how my body would cope with this slight change in tactics. Had I overdone it? Only time will tell! If I had, it would be a very slow and painful end to my race, though I suppose all hundreds are pretty painful!
The day was warming up more and more, but fortunately we were largely under tree cover. I was starting to fantasize about cold drinks and sitting down to eat a Burger King. This pretty much always happens during races now. Why I long for a Burger King and nothing else I have no idea, but it is a pretty consistent race craving.
All was going well as George and I ploughed on. There wasn’t as much chat now as we were both tiring and the heat was pretty oppressive now, but all was good. We soon arrived at the final cp. George was quicker than me here as he was only around 9km from the end. I was a little more relaxed as I was around 9km from the half way point. I topped up my water, grabbed yet more gels and ate some nuts and a banana. Within a few minutes I had caught George up again, so we ran together. This final stretch was not so well sheltered as we were running through fields, so the sun suddenly felt ten times more powerful. I was starting to feel it, so I walked a bit and told George that he should go on without me, in case any other 50′s were close behind. I only walked very briefly, but made sure to drink lots as I did so. I needn’t be too sparing with my supplies as the cp’s were pretty frequent.
I climbed over a stile and turned left down a country road. In about 5 mins I was at the midway cp. There were quite a few people here as it was not just a cp but also a finishline for the 50′s, so there a few friends and family waiting for them to finish. I was the fifth runner in and the first 100 miler. I drank a load of water and coke, George topped up my bladder for me, I grabbed some more gels and was off, for the return journey.
I was looking forward to this as I would now get to see almost all of the field run past me, which you wouldn’t normally experience in a race. I would also get to see how big the gaps behind were.
From leaving the cp to seeing the first 100 miler, the time was 18 mins. The runner was Mark. I didn’t think he’d be too far away. It was still way too early to really think anything about my current position. I must just run my own race and see what happens. As long as I put everything into it, then I’ll be happy (so I kept telling myself!).
It was really cool running past everyone, as I got lots of encouraging comments and grins. I tried to soak up as much of the positivity as I could as I knew that once I had passed the back marker, I’d be all alone again, and I’d be running into the dark. Due to the course being largely through woodland, this was going to be a pretty dark night. As the more intense heat trailed off a little, the gaps between runners was growing. I knew that soon I’d be seeing the final runner (not that’s I’d know of course!). I’d heard from the cp’s that the drop out rate had been fairly high. Pretty standard when the sun is blazing.
Interwoven through my thoughts (and non-thoughts) throughout the whole run were my future efforts in Greece. Was I on the right path? Was this race an indicator of form? Would I get it right this year? Could I deal better with the heat and stay well hydrated?
As the night closed in, I felt a slight sense of urgency as I was getting close to the Box Hill cp. I had earlier estimated that I could possibly get to the bottom of the hill before needing my torch. For some reason I always set myself a pointless challenge involving staying torchless for as long as possible going into the night. This time it looked like I’d be succesful! I was now at the top of the steep descent down the steps of Box Hill and there was still around 30 mins of useful light left. I let myself drop down the steps as fast as my sore thighs would allow. I ran along the flat at the bottom, and hopped over river using the stepping stones and then I was at the cp.

I was feeling pretty weary now and was happy to have reached this cp, I think I might have sat down for a minute as I ate another wrap and grabbed some more gels. I dug my headtorch out from my bag and put it on my head. It didn’t need to be on yet, but it would be very soon. I left after a little bit of faffing. Soon, I was back running through Denbies. There were lots of markers out for some charity walk, and soon I started passing a steady flow of walkers in the half dark, beautiful evening. I imagine I must have looked a bit mental!
Soon after passing through Denbies, the torch came on. The course was really well marked and it really helped that I had ran it 8-10 hours earlier. My memory is generally pretty shoddy to say the least, but for some reason I seem to remember hundreds of miles of trails pretty well. Remembering family birthdays is another thing though!
As the darkness closed around me, the real race began. Now for the pain. The head games. The constant draining of motivation. The almost overriding desire to just lay down and sleep. These are the things I think I’m getting better at, but still need to improve on a massive amount. I was starting to walk more and more frequently to do tasks that didn’t really need doing. My mind just tricks me into thinking I have to stop to check something or other, then I realise what is happening and slowly and painfully lurch forward into something that resembles a run.
Soon I was running up a hill to the penultimate cp. The course had been marked every mile or so with glow sticks (worked amazingly!), but as I got closer to the cp the glow sticks got more and more frequent till they gave me the impression I was an aircraft coming into land! Amazing. I messed about for probably too long and picked at the food absentmindedly, half expecting the second place runner to come into view. I had absolutely no idea what the gap was behind me, but was aware that whoever was behind would be getting told how far in front I was. A definite advantage! Never mind, I’ll just keep plodding, and soon I’ll be able to sit down.
I was glad with the knowledge when I left the cp that there was only one more cp before the end. Looking at the time, I was predicting a time of just over 20hrs. Even though this was way above my pre race expectations, I was a little disappointed that I was going to go so close to 20hrs and not beat it.
I fought to stay running for as long as possible before bimbling along for 30 seconds or so before starting up again, this broke up the time a bit, and I soon arrived at the final cp, where there was a roaring bonfire and loud music. This was far too tempting! I just wanted to lay down next to the fire and be slightly too warm and drift off, but I just downed a couple cups of coke and ran off into the darkness. Around 9-10 km remained. I had a bit of a panic on as I was getting a little paranoid that number 2 was catching me up. surely they would be with my ever decreasing pace! I kept turning around to check for a light bouncing alone in the inky darkness. I came out of the trees and ran along a trail for a while and just before I disappeared back into the trees, I glanced behind, and sure enough, there was the dreaded light. This gave me an added sense of urgency, and as much as my tired body allowed, I bolted. Soon enough though, I was crossing a field, and there it was again, only this time lots closer. He would catch me in minutes. He was traveling at a far quicker pace than me and I knew that I wouldn’t be any competition for him once he caught me. As he seemingly with ease ran up beside me, we chatted a bit. His name was Robbie and he knew my name. I apparently beat him by 2 mins in the Grand Union Canal Race this year! Then he was off. I had no answer to this and just did the best I could for the final 5km hoping that no-one else would do the same.
After a tough final 5km I saw Mimi, who informed me the end was just around the corner, and sure enough it was!
Phew! Second place was mine, and as I looked down at my stopwatch, it said 19:57. Awesome, I beat 20hrs. Brilliant.
I saw Robbie and congratulated him, and 10 minutes after me, arrived Mark in third place! top three within 20 minutes in a 100 miler!
I had a couple cup-a-soups and then crawled into a van and got some incredibly uncomfortable shuteye as I had about 5hrs to kill before my train journey home!
When I woke up and peered out the window, I saw that there were many more people, runners and crew stood around. I crawled out. I didn’t exactly feel great, but I wasn’t to bad either. The train journey back was painful, but thankfully uneventful.

So, as I write this a few weeks later and I have had some time to reflect on my race, I am happy to still be content with my second place. I gave it my all and I see it as one of, if not my best race yet. A win would be nice of course, but this has proven to myself that for me, it really is a quest to better my own fitness, mental strength, resilience and thus my overall satisfaction. There are of course two sides to what I do ; the personal, physical challenge and the other, equally important one is the outdoors element. The more trail running I do, the more I want to do. Some of the scenery I am so incredibly fortunate to witness, throughout the changing seasons, from dawn to dusk, wet, icy, snowy, bone dry, no matter how challenging, often gives me a real high that sub-consciously plasters a massive, insane grin across my face. Without this, running would be incomplete for me. The pain and the time that I put into my running is easily wiped out with just one of these moments. Anyway, that’s enough of the hippy talk!

 

As is usual for this year my recovery was swift, which was great as on the Thursday a friend and I flew out to Geneva for a 6 day holiday in Morzine in the French Alps. We took our mountain bikes and I of course threw in a few pairs of trainers. I’ve been to the Alps three times before ; twice on family holidays which I have really fond memories of, and about 6-7 years ago on a skiing holiday which was awesome. When we got to our chalet, I went for a run towards Roc D’Enfer, a mountain that I had eyed up on the map I had bought in the UK. I ran for 1hr 20 before turning around. I was blown away with the beauty (as expected!). The next day we both went mountain biking for most of the day. I had never ridden on such incredible trails and insane downhill runs. I was in heaven! I couldn’t see how I would ever get bored here! Over the next few days, there was much more mountain biking and running as the weather was incredible and dusty dry! Everyone was telling us how lucky we were as it had been a particularly wet summer!

Whilst walking into town one night we noticed a poster for a running race on the Sunday. It was a vertical km race called La Couratt’ de Nyon, starting in the centre of Morzine and heading straight up a mountain called Nyon. It was just over 7km in distance and as the name implies almost exactly 1000 metres in ascent! I’d read about these races and thought it would be a brilliant opportunity. Not exactly my format of race, and way too short, but I was in pretty good shape so thought I’d have a go. The winner finished in 52 minutes and I finished in 14th place (80 odd finishers) in 1hr 2 mins! I felt great after as well. I was surprised with my performance. The view from the top of Nyon was absolutely incredible, so I hung around for a while and took some pictures and then with much excitement I begun the long descent to the half way point to where my friend was waiting. We had lunch then I ran down to Morzine where my bike was locked up, got changed into my cycling kit and we went off to ride some more trails! What a fantastic holiday!

Next is, of course, my second attempt at Spartathlon. My target for the year. I feel much better prepared this time round and my training is complete. All I have to do now is run it, Easy!

I will of course blog it asap. This posting has for some reason been the most painful by far. I’m not sure why. I do hope that everyone is enjoying their running as much as I am!

Written by Neil Bryant - www.ultrarunningcommunity.com


Just over a week ago I took part in the Ridgeway Challenge, a 86 mile off road race on the ancient footpath named, funnily enough, the Ridgeway. It begins in Buckinghamshire near a place called Tring and ends in Wiltshire at Avebury of massive stone circle fame.
I hadn’t really targeted this race, but thought that it seemed to fit in just about around other events, and I guessed that I’d carry enough fitness to complete it. Also, if I could complete this race it would qualify me for the Ultra Trail Mont Blanc next year which is a race that I’ve wanted to do for some time.
There were two starts for this race. One at 10am on the Saturday for people who thought they’d take longer than 24hrs, and one at midday for those that would beat 24hrs. I had no real clue how long this one would take so I took a bit of a gamble and chose the later start.
I hadn’t done anything during the week leading up to this one as my knees were still feeling a little tender and I figured the weeks rest certainly wouldn’t have a negative impact on my performance.
One of the lessons I’ve slowly picked up is just how valuable rest is, even if I think I feel fine, the extra day or two here and there really does help. The difficult bit is that I obviously love running, so taking these breaks can be very frustrating. I have to keep reminding myself of the bigger picture.
I had to get up at 5 to have breakfast and make my way to the train station. Fortunately Andrea woke up and kindly offered to drive me to the station. Thank god she did as I only got there with five minutes to spare! I felt remarkably relaxed during the journey. I could even manage to read for an hour or so! I met another competitor on the train at London which was nice. Had a good chat about the usual topics : training, injuries, previous races, future races etc. Finally we arrived at Tring station, where we met a few other guys who were doing the race. Whilst we were waiting for the organiser to pick us up and take us to the start we noticed that the 10 am starts began trickling past.
Finally we got picked up and driven to the start. It was a perfect day for running, Sunny but not too hot. I signed in and picked up my race number and slowly began getting ready for the off.
I still felt very calm which was nice. I can only think that this was due to this race not being a real target and maybe the experience was starting to show!
At quarter to twelve everyone started milling towards the start which is at the top of Ivinghoe Beacon, which has beautiful views of the surrounding scenery. Now I was just excited and keen to make a start. I was a tiny bit chilly which to me means it ideal for running in as soon I’d heat up plenty!
Finally we were off! I started running with Colin who I’d met during the JOGLE training a few weeks previous and a chap called Alex who had never done an ultra before. I explained that I intended to break the running up with plenty of brief spells of fast walking. They both seemed happy with my strategy so we stuck together for the time being. Straight away we found our way fairly close to the back as everyone shot off. It’s always difficult at this stage to hold a steady pace, your own pace, and let everyone do their own thing. I felt pretty good with my strategy, as did Colin. I’m not sure Alex thought it was best for him but we stuck together for a while.
Eventually someone caught up and Alex started chatting with them. I realised that the pace was a tiny bit above what I had planned, so I slowed a little. Colin stayed with me and Alex disappeared into the distance. I felt very confident with my pacing today.
We got to the first cp where I stuffed my face with whatever delights they had there, filled up my bladder then set off asap. It amazes me how many people you can get past if you’re fast at the cp’s, this was no exception. We didn’t really see many other people till we got to the 3rd cp. This surprised me as I was holding a 20hr pace which would get me roughly in the top twenty somewhere if I could sustain it. I asked the guys at the 3rd cp how many had gone through. He informed us that we were about seventieth out of 92! Hopefully the tailenders would start coming into our sights.
Soon we were rewarded for our patience. we must have took about 20 people over the next 5 miles. And this continued all the way past the 4th cp till we caught Alex and his running buddy. We passed him a carried on our way. We both felt pretty good by this stage. It’s always good to be catching people, but again you have to try to keep control of yourself. It’s all about running your own race. Just as it was getting dark, we arrived at the 5th cp, which also was the half way point. Here we had access to our drop bags plus they had some baked potatoes with baked beans which I wolfed down as fast as possible as there were loads of competitors here we had caught up and I fancied getting back on the road before them.
Colin and I left together with headtorches on as it was now pitch black out. I like to run at night, but It’s always good to be able to turn the light of when day breaks.
We started on the long uphill drag out from the cp, soon overtaking a group of three. The hill went on for quite a while. I felt good enough to feel like running. Soon we overtook a woman by herself, then we were out by our selves, away from the light pollution enough to notice the stunning canopy of stars above us. I was so enjoying this race that I kept finding a dirty great grin across my face. This is what it’s all about.
We kept up the pace until coming up a hill we could finally see the lights of the next cp. This meant there was only one left after this one. We stopped and fortunately my stomach still felt fine, so I ate as much as I could without making myself ill. This strategy seemed to be working well so far, so with only 17 miles remaining, I wasn’t about to change it now. Colin on the other hand, was starting to get a bit of an uncomfortable stomach. I noticed that he didn’t eat as much as he should have. As we left the cp, I told him to try and eat something else he’ll just run out of gas. He ate a bite size chocolate bar. We pushed on, but I was a little concerned about Colin.
By the time we had got to the final cp, I felt great, but Colin was in need of a bush. I ate and had a coffee whilst he dealt with it. Eventually he reappeared not looking great. He said he’d been ill and told me to go on, So I got ready quickly and ran off into the darkness.
I now decided to push the pace a little seeing as I felt so good. The Ridgeway followed a road for a mile or so till it came to a T-junction. I span around looking for a sign post. As I hunted for the sign, a car pulled up and asked me Where I was looking for. I told him that I was looking for the Ridgeway west bound. He helpfully pointed me down a hill telling me to keep going till I found the hospital. Here I’d be able to pick up the path again. I thanked him and started off fast down the hill. The further I’d gone The more doubt started creeping into my mind. Finally I came to a sign that said “footpath to Ridgeway 2.5 miles”. Brilliant I thought, Let’s get back on the Ridgeway. After about 5 minutes running on this track I again Got a little concerned as the track looked almost completely disused. I kept on running.
I then lost the track and realised that I was on some farm land. I jumped a fence and was on a road. I hunted for another sign but couldn’t see one. Which way? I went right and ended up on a larger road. After sitting down for a minute with my map trying work out my location, I still wasn’t too sure. I rushed down the road a bit further and came to a village which thankfully gave me my location. Sadly I had been directed by the stranger the wrong way! Probably for a laugh no doubt. I was angry with him, but more so with myself. What a fool for not checking! I put all of my concentration into channeling my frustration into my running. I ran with speed back up the hill I’d been directed down. 10 minutes later I started to see the headlights of other runners. I was back on track. This made me smile. Now I had some serious overtaking to do. I guessed that I’d been bumbling around for around an hour. I straight away started to take people. no-one attempted to stay with me for a while. Then I heard some footsteps behind me. Someone was running with me which I was quite surprised about as my pace was still fast being fueled by adrenalin. We ran together for about half an hour till he informed me he was going to walk for a bit. I pushed on.
Soon I caught up with Colin. I was very glad to see that he was still pushing on. He was going well now, but told me that he had stayed at the cp for half an hour! I pushed on and took about four more guys before reaching the last cp. I ate fast. They informed me that it was 6 miles till the end. My stopwatch said 18hrs 57mins. To beat 20hrs I needed to run 10k in less than 1hr 3mins.
This seemed fast but I felt good and still highly motivated after my error. I left as fast as I could.
The final 10k was smooth and I took another 3 guys. As I entered Avebury my stopwatch reset itself so I lost track of my time. I squeezed out every last drop of energy all the way to the finish.
My time was 20hrs 2mins!
I was of course frustrated with my error and time, but overall, seeing as I hadn’t trained specifically for this race, I was really chuffed with my pacing, my speed and I really enjoyed the event. I recovered really fast which is always nice and a sure sign of fitness.
Between the Ridgeway and the next race which is the 24hrs, I have a gap of 6 weeks. I decided to take 2 whole weeks off of running after. This will be followed by an easy low mileage week, two medium mileage weeks, a long hard week and finishing with a week of rest before the race.
Once the 24 is done, that is the end of my season. My biggest yet! Then I’ll be slowly building towards the JOGLE.
I currently have another 5 days off of running which is very difficult, but I can feel myself getting stronger and all my niggles are disappearing, so I’ll stick to the plan.
I’ll Blog soon.
Happy running.

Written by Neil Bryant - www.ultrarunninglife.com

So finally after a long year of waiting after my first failed attempt at the Spartathlon, the time had arrived to give it another go. This time I felt a whole lot more prepared. I felt like a more experienced, relaxed and confident runner. This all leads to being a stronger runner. I also knew how the race was run and half of the course. On top of all of this, my year had been my strongest yet with consistent performances in the Grand Union Canal race and The North Downs Way race.  Recovery was markedly improved over previous years too. All in all, there was a lot of positivity buzzing around my head and this felt good. I was trying not to get too confident though as one of the many lessons learnt in Greece last year was that this was a race that should never be taken lightly. This is seen as the Ultra to finish when you speak to the incredibly experienced runners from all over the world that enter this incredible race.

Why does it have such a high attrition rate when on paper it may not seem so tough? Well, the answer is many things, but the one overriding, unusual (unique?) feature is the quantity of checkpoints. There are 72(?) of them and each of them has a board that tells you what time the cp closes. Usually being fed information like this can be alright as it can be a pretty healthy distraction, giving your mind something else to concentrate on other than the pain that is inevitable.The problem is that seeing as the cp’s are every 2-5km then you are almost constantly being informed of your progress whether that is positive or negative. Experience tells you that losing little bits of time here and there is pretty normal for a big one, but for some reason when you are constantly being reminded of this it creates a sense of panic. If you arrive at a cp to discover that you have just dropped 5 minutes since the previous one, for some reason, the need to try and make that back before the next cp seems like the only option, so you push on and reclaim the time. This in turn tires you out a bit and you will then lose time getting to the next cp! And so the cycle continues. The mental side to this race is incredibly difficult to overcome once you slip into this cycle.
Of course, the mental side to this race is not the only challenge to overcome. There is the 152 miles of mostly road that is of course pretty difficult, the heat is tough. And lets not forget the interesting challenge of the mountain that you have to drag yourself over at the 100 mile point in the thick of night.
I had booked flights from Gatwick on the Wednesday morning with a few other Brit runners. I couldn’t get in early enough on the trains so decided to travel up to London the night before and stay at some very good old school friends of mine, Rich, Si and Emily. I didn’t arrive till after 10 but we stayed up for a bit and had a drink. It was really nice to catch up. I got into bed at 3:30 and my alarm was set for 5:30. Nothing like a good bit of preparation before my biggest race of the year! When I arrived at Gatwick, I floated around the dull shops, burning time with a coffee. I soon bumped into Pete who is the British Spartathlon veteran, who I had met the year before. We chatted till our gate was called.
Now, just a quick bit of nonsense for you. My birthday is the 11 of November, or 11-11. Because of this, 11 has always been my ‘lucky’ number if I ever get asked. This year my birthday will of course be on the 11-11-11. My race number this year is, yes you guessed it, 11. The gate our flight was at had just been called. 11! I hope I don’t get to see many more 11′s around else I just may begin to think that there is something in it!

We met up with the other brits who were on the same flight. There was already a good bunch of us and I had met most of them which was cool. After a uneventful flight, we were in the airport looking for a sign that would direct us to a coach that would take us directly to the hotel. Normally you would have to use the public transport at this point, but due to the unrest in Greece because of the financial problems, they were having strikes. On the day of my arrival, the public transport was off so the Spartathlon association had put on a coach for all competitors. Fantastic!
Once we arrived at the hotel we immediately registered for the race then got a room. Another good feature of this race is that the SA book up three hotels right next to each other. They then cram you in four at a time into the rooms. You are living right on top of each other (well, almost!). This initially might not sound like the best of situations, and some people will book themselves into a separate hotel so that they can have their own space, but what it does is it creates this great camaraderie and also you really are living the Spartathlon for five days. After experiencing it for two years now, I wouldn’t want it any other way. It really develops the experience into a totally absorbing time.
I was in a room with James Adams who had decided to not start as he’d recently completed the incredibly gargantuan race across America so was going to follow the race and see it from the other side. There was a chap called Paul Mott who I hadn’t met before, and Dave Miles who is a good friend who I knew from the JOGLE. A good room. There was much hanging about before going to dinner and stuffing myself with the slightly odd meals that they concoct at the hotel. It isn’t bad though so I’m happy tucking in and drinking plenty of rather strong coffee. After an expected poor nights sleep we have the entire Thursday to just relax and get our drop bags ready. I had bought a load of energy drink powder with me and some 9 bars and some gels. I went to a garage next door and bought 12 bottles of water and then mixed my powder in. I then  taped a 9 bar to each one before dumping them into roughly evenly spaced boxes that are provided, one for each checkpoint. Finally I sorted out my OMM bumbag and clothes for the race. All this didn’t take too long which was cool as it left the rest of the day to relax before the not so relaxing day that was too follow.That evening, a few of us ate out at a nice restaurant before going back to the hotel and attempting to get some more sleep before the alarm went off at a ridiculous hour. No bother really as the night didn’t involve much sleep again and I was just waiting for the alarm!
We all sorted ourselves out and went down for breakfast before jumping into the coaches that would take us on the 30 minute drive to downtown Athens to the Acropolis where the race begins. After a bit of a wait, and a few visits to the toilet, the time had come, we were off!
I felt calm and content that at last I was running and that compared to exactly this time last year, I was a lot more confident. I knew I could do it.
We slowly snaked our way through the already quite busy streets where police were at each junction and stopped the traffic for us as we passed. No mean feat in any capital, let alone Athens!

Dave and I in the first 30 miles.

I had already decided that I was going to run this all alone as I had to do my own pace, but soon Dave ran up beside me and we started chatting. I felt fine with Dave’s company as we had run together a great deal over the JOGLE so I knew that we had very even paces. We chatted quite a bit as we headed out of the city.  I wanted to run at a slightly higher speed before the sun rose than I planned to run later on when the heat would rise. Everything felt good and I was content with our pace as we started passing through the cp’s, one by one.

It was good to be passing through roads I recognised. Roads that were familiar to me. I found it exciting knowing that I would soon be on new road. Road that I would be unfamiliar with. As we passed through the industrial outskirts of the city that are peppered with a few too many oil refineries and the edges of the roads are heavily laden with years of refuse that has been tossed from the constant flow of traffic, the heat was beginning to rise, but to attempt to even it up, the scenery was improving, and I was finally feeling like I was set into my rhythm for the duration of the race.
We were starting to pass through sleepy villages and the roads were starting to become a little less busy than the highly dangerous madness of before. A smile appeared across my face as we ran along the beautiful peaceful coastal road and I stared out to sea trying to estimate the distance you could see before the haze took control. This was when Dave first mentioned that his stomach wasn’t feeling tip top. I of course didn’t say anything, but I wasn’t feeling too positive for his chances if this problem continued. This race took no prisoners!
Shortly after he had mentioned this, he threw up a load of water. Not good. He tried to get some fluid down again but this wasn’t happening. We continued to run together for a little while at a slower pace, before he threw up again. As we began to run again, I started to pull away gradually. I could not wait any longer as you really had to run well when you could, as sooner or later you would hit a bad patch where you will lose a little time. The bad patches had to be minimised, so having to wait for someone while feeling good isn’t the most sensible of approaches.
I was now alone on the road with my thoughts. My thoughts turned to what pains were flowing through my body. My quads were pretty sore. Maybe a little more so than I would expect for this time and distance. I guessed that this was possibly due to low electrolytes so attempted to top up using the Elete water I had in my bag. I also wasn’t finding it too easy to eat. Again, I put this down to dehydration. Soon after this I began to feel the scary twinges in my calves of cramp! This was very concerning, and reinforced my theory that that I was dehydrated and low on electrolytes. I got the Elete water out again and squeezed the salty solution directly into my mouth. Other than making my face contort with the intensity of the taste, within three minutes the twinges ceased! Incredible! This added a little more positivity to my mood.
As I ran into the first major cp at the 50 mile point, I found a bowl of rice and poured lots of salt all over it . I soon found out that I had put way too much salt on it as was disgusting, but knew that it would help. After a little sit down, I left the madness of the cp and walked off as I struggled to eat the rice. I really needed to get down and hold down as much as possible, as I knew that I was running a little empty. I kept thinking about this stage of the race a year earlier and it was good. I was definitely in better shape this time round. Ok I wasn’t in great shape or anything, but I felt in more control of my condition. I felt stronger mentally.
Soon I was near the bottom of the bowl of rice and could eat no more. I was happy with how much I had eaten, and begun running again. We were now on small country roads where the main volume of traffic was made up of race officials and other competitors support crews.
I passed fields of olive trees, vineyards, pomegranates and many other things which I didn’t recognise. The grapes were looking especially appealing in the hot sun and were weighing heavily on the frameworks that had been constructed around them, but I didn’t stop.
Around this time, a Hungarian runner asked me if I knew anyone from Bristol. I told him I live there and found out that he had lived there for a number of years before returning to Hungary earlier in the year. We chatted a bit before falling back into our own rhythms and leap frogging each other for the next few hours.
My problem with eating continued throughout the day, but had not got any worse, so I was happy. I was eating literally a very small handful of raisins occasionally which wasn’t great, but it was something and I was managing to hold them down and continue running. I was thinking that if I could just make it into the coolness of the night then maybe I would be able to fully rehydrate and this would in turn allow me to take in more food and be better prepared for the long day ahead. It was a plan that gave me hope.
It was beginning to cloud over a little which gave some respite from the sun and dropped the temperature by a few degrees which helped tremendously. As the sun dropped, I knew that I was getting closer and closer to the point that I dropped out at last time. I still didn’t feel great exactly, but was happy with my progress. I felt a confidence that I wouldn’t have dared feel this time last year. I was starting to feel a little tired so was starting to take on much coffee at the cp’s. Usually I wouldn’t really feel too much of a benefit from the caffeine during a race, but this time it was really perking me up and giving me more energy for a short period which I was really enjoying. I held off getting my torch out till I really needed it. I have got into a habit of doing this for some reason. I’m not too sure why really. It’s good to keep good night vision for as long as possible before ruining it with your bright light, but whether this holds any real advantage I doubt. Just another little game I play in my head.
It felt great that the temperature had dropped in the night air and I had almost stopped sweating so was feeling like I was getting better control of my hydration levels. I was still not eating much, but what I was eating was obviously doing enough to keep me going for the time being. I soon approached the cp where the heavens opened last year and begun my negativity that ended in my failure.
Shortly after this point you turn off the road onto a side road. I was really enjoying the night air and the feeling of running alone in the darkness of night. I knew that this part carried on a little while before a big descent into a town where my ‘final’ cp of last year was. I couldn’t wait! Progress went well and soon enough I started the long descent. As I entered the cp I looked across at the chair which I slumped into the previous year a broad grin crossed my face. I was about to improve upon last year, and the way I was feeling I was going to improve a great deal. I sat down and drank some soup and a coffee before pushing on into the unknown. I went downhill for a while before the road levelled out. I now was certainly on a bit of a high as I raced on. I felt great and was conscious that I should take advantage of this surge of strength so pushed on pretty hard. I now felt pretty well hydrated but was still struggling to eat any great amount. My current surge was letting me know that although I hadn’t been able to eat much for many hours, it was obviously enough to keep me going which filled me with hope for the task ahead. Soon I was traveling along the valley floor which I knew led eventually to the base of the mountain. This would be a massive mental milestone for me. The top of the mountain was the 100 mile point. A large proportion of the people who get this far get to the end. I really was looking forward to the off road part to the top and descending down the other side. It would be good to get off the tarmac. This was the furthest I’d ever run on the road in one go and it had to be said that off road is definitely my thing. Trans-Europe will be interesting next year!
After a short climb I arrived in a village where I stopped very briefly to grab a soup before power walking off into the switch back turns that signified the beginning of the road section of the climb. Although I had heard and read many accounts of this climb, for some reason I couldn’t really visualise it. It begun with the turning of a corner and seeing the headlights of the runners ahead of me snaking across the valley and zig-zagging their way up the road of the mountain. What I did know was that the final part of the climb to the cp was actually off road and pretty rough. How much of the on-road there was before this section that had taken on mythical proportions in my head I was unsure, so I just leaned into the slope and kept power walking. I enjoyed this slope and it went on for quite a bit longer than I thought it would to be honest. After what felt like around 40 minutes though I have no idea how long it actually took I passed under the main road that was silent at this dead hour and followed a trail that ran parallel with the road before coming to the final cp that was being manned by a lot of British people. This was a refreshing surprise, though I was very quick to grab a soup before being directed up the mountain path which had been lit with a plethora of glow sticks, flashing lights and torches of many varieties to make sure we all made it over safely. The going was very steep and the footing was fairly loose and there was no way of running. I’d be surprised if even the gazelle-like front runners would be able to run it.
I was really warm at this point seeing as I’d been going up for quite a while, but as I got closer to the top I felt the stirrings of a chilly wind. I was wet with sweat so was thinking I’d have to get my windproof jacket out nearer the top. Sure enough as I got closer and closer to the top, the strength of the chilling wind increased creating a pleasant cooling effect. As I looked up, I saw that there was still a little way to go, enough to tell me that the strength of wind would be very strong at the cp. I sat when I arrived as a thick blanket was thankfully thrown around me protecting my sweaty body from the gale force winds howling over the pass. I again had another coffee which I drank very quickly before throwing the blanket off and beginning the rocky descent that made its way down the mountain. I hadn’t put my jacket on as I was hoping that if I was quick, I would get out of the cold wind, but as I dropped down, the wind wasn’t really decreasing so I stopped, took my bumbag off and put my jacket on before I put the bag back on over the top of the jacket. It was here that I lost my cap that I had looped around the waist strap. After around 20 minutes of painful descending, due to the rocks sticking into my very sore feet, I entered the cp that marked the end of he descent, grabbed yet more soup and raisins removed my jacket and ran off out of the village. I believe that it was somewhere around this point that some daylight began to appear.
I had conquered the mountain and passed the 100 mile point. I had just over 1 hour of buffer which I had held pretty consistently for the whole thing so was feeling pretty happy with things. I was daring to believe that success was possible.
I pushed on as hard as I could before the sun would show its power. I was in a lot of pain and was exhausted, but felt happy with things. I followed the roads along the valley floor, surrounded by the mountains, occasionally looking back to try to make out the mountain I had just been over, but not being successful. When the sun started to feel like it was burning the skin on my head, I reached around for my cap and realised what had happened when I couldn’t find it. I had a slight panic when I realised that I had no sun protection. Could I survive without? Probably not! What an idiot! Could I make a shade out of a piece of litter from the side of the road perhaps? Within 5 minutes of discovering my loss, I noticed a tatty old baseball cap discarded in a bush. I retrieved it, spent a fraction of a second wondering how long the cap had been there and who had owned it, before placing it on my head and thanking my total luck at spotting it at the exact moment.
As the cp’s went by, my time buffer still hovered around the 1 hr mark. That’ll do. Soon I came off a small back road and came onto the really busy main road that had no pavement. Not great, but I was fine with it. Maybe JOGLE had conditioned me to running on really dangerous roads. From now till about 20km from the end the road was a bit of a roller-coaster of a ride with large sweeping ups and incredibly painful downs on my poor ever worsening feet. I had been running pretty much alone since I’d left Dave behind, but you are always running in the same sort of time as a few others, and for the final 30 odd kms I was running with around 5 Japanese athletes. We often ran together. Sometimes they went ahead and other times I hobbled in front, like some race for the knackers yard.
It was pretty warm now, but I felt in control of my hydration. I still couldn’t eat very well, but was still moving. It was just a case of finishing it off now! I was now on the downhill that I was pretty sure was the final long descent into the town of Sparta where the statue of King Leonidas is situated. When you finish you kiss the toe of the statue. I was now beginning to fantasize about this simple act.
I was just on auto pilot now. Barring any freak accident or injury, I was going to finish. I was finding it difficult to keep myself running with any haste now. Soon I was at the bottom of the hill on the valley floor just entering the town and I came to the penultimate cp. I took on some water and left straightaway. Just one more cp! I disposed of the ragged old dirty cap just before the final cp and then I was running up the main streets of the town. It was a beautiful and emotional time. Every car beeped and shouted out congratulations, pedestrians shouted and clapped, shop keepers joined in too. I was feeling amazing now. People where welcoming me to their town. I felt broken but elated and pretty emotional. I welled up with tears but managed to hold them off. When I turned the final corner and ran up the avenue towards King Leonidas I saw the other Brits, those who had already finished, the ones that weren’t so lucky and those that had been supporting in some way or another all cheering me in with the rest of the crowd. The emotions running through me were intense and I was very happy. As I approached the statue, the crowd parted a little to let me through. I leapt up like I hadn’t just ran 152 miles onto the plinth at the base and kissed the enormous toe in front of me. When I came back down off the plinth it did feel like I had just run 152 miles! I was offered water to drink from the river, I had a olive wreath placed on my head and was awarded the rather cool plaque. I then stumbled over to the hospital tent to have my feet looked at and make sure I didn’t need any further assistance. Dave was there and he congratulated me. I felt for him, as it’s a pretty emotional finish, so to be watching what you should be doing must be tough. He’ll be back I’m sure. That’s what this race does to you. I then was put into a taxi which took me to the hotel. I got a room together with Paul who had finished about a quarter of an hour ahead of me, which is a fantastic feat being his first attempt! We found our room, showered and crashed out.
The next few days seemed to be dictated by the pain in my feet, but overall I had a really nice relaxing time. By the time I had to fly back, my feet felt loads better and I was feeling pretty good.
So that is one of my dream races completed. Maybe more importantly a race that had previously beaten me. I said to my self I would take 4 weeks off of running, but in fact two weeks later I raced in a local off-road duathlon. I hadn’t intended to, but it was a short ride away, and I love mountain biking, so thought it would be an opportunity I couldn’t resist. It was very tough seeing as I’m not too used to the short stuff, but I did alright coming in 6th place. Two weeks later, I was in the Yorkshire Dales and had a go at my first Fell race. I’d wanted to do one for a long time. The race was the Great Whernside fell race and this year was also the Yorkshire championships race so the field was pretty stacked with talent. It is a stiff two miles ascent, around the trig point before running like complete lunatics back down. I fell twice and ran faster than I have ever ran down hill having loads of fun. I came 38th out of 175 which I was pretty chuffed with. Need to travel up for more of these!

Garmin upload

In a couple days I’ll be running my last ultra of the year (I think). It is the Beacons Ultra, a two lap 45 mile event that I haven’t done before so am pretty excited about.
Once that is done, I will be in the winter routine in preparation for next year which is looking pretty big. Very exciting year and that’s without Trans-Europe!
I’d better sign off now as this post has gone on a little too long.
Happy running!