Breaking The Spine 2016

I’ve always struggled not to jump right in at the deep end, “take the plunge” as my dad used to say, and this was no different. I started running consistently about 3 years ago when I moved to the trails of the Lake District. Within a couple of months I’d taken myself on my first marathon using Strava, closely followed by my first ultra-marathon. That’s the moment everything started getting out of hand. In those early months, whilst sitting in a cafe looking at some running magazine, a feature on The Spine Race caught my eye and the seed was planted. It looked absolutely incredible. All of the books I had read by explorers like Ranulph Fiennes, on adventures I wished I could have one day, were in those pictures and stories. They were right in front of me, not at the other side of the world where I’d have to wrestle with polar bears. It was here in the UK! A 268 Mile non-stop race encompassing the entire Pennine Way, during the winter month of January. It was billed as ‘Britain’s most brutal race’. The more I looked in to it, the more it attracted me. I didn’t even realise there were events like this. I was still struggling to comprehend the fact people were running ultra-marathons! All of my physical and mental limits had been completely redefined over the previous few months. I felt the need to test myself and my limits, to see if I too had the same mental strength as my role models in these kind of distances and weather, to find out if I could look after myself, navigate in the freezing cold and night, struggle with sleep deprivation and fatigue whilst still moving forward. I already knew that these opportunities came with the race, like the best party goody bag I’d ever seen, and I wanted one.

“The Spine Race is easy apart from:- its dark most of the time; your feet then body will fall apart; the compulsory baggage doesn’t get any lighter; sleep is a luxury; you experience extremes of weather and cold; and finally of course it’s 268 miles long. Many will try to break the Spine but most will become race statistics. Good luck to all who enter!” Mark Caldwell, summing the race up perfectly.

And so a couple of years later, at the start of 2015, after gaining more experience in long distance events and becoming more confident in my navigation and outdoor skills, combined with a pay check fattened by the Christmas overtime (and probably some wine), I took the plunge and entered the Spine. At first I was reluctant to enter the full race and opted for the Challenger (A 106 mile shorter version of the race), but I’d had a strong year running and felt uneasy about the decision. I was certain I could do 106 miles in a year’s time, and I wanted to try something I wasn’t sure I could finish. So I changed my mind and went for it. I had a whole year to train, what’s the worst that could happen?! This had been answered a couple of weeks previously when I volunteered at the Middleton-In-Teesdale checkpoint for the 2015 race. I had never seen people so deliriously tired or in so much pain with their feet. I’d never seen people on an ultra with so much mandatory kit! I picked up one of the competitors rucksacks and couldn’t believe how heavy it was. I was already working out that this wasn’t an ultra-marathon as I knew it to be… surely people couldn’t run the whole distance wearing that much weight?! Some were wearing walking boots, others looked like they’d walked straight off the set of The Walking Dead series, in fact the majority did! I went for a 6 mile run outside, following the Pennine Way, and struggled to warm up in the freezing cold winds. This was going to be insane. What had I entered…

What followed was a year of obsession. I read race reports and began to approach people online about kit, strategies, nutrition etc. I took on a running coach to help guide me through a year of training, which I knew would have to be efficient and relentless. I got in touch with Ronnie Staton, an ultra-runner and coach from Lincoln, through a friend at work. Ronnie came across as a class guy on the same wavelength as me. He was surprised that I was taking on The Spine with my lack of experience as I had yet to do an ultra further then 66 miles. Ronnie’s perception of how hard The Spine race was didn’t help to alleviate my concerns that I was getting myself into trouble. The race was something he wanted to do himself eventually but was apprehensive of, despite some of the huge events he had taken part in. We spoke at length about training for it, about posture, technique, and the underlying issue I had with an injury to my right knee which had bothered me for about 2 months now. I went away motivated with the aim to shake this injury before the real training could begin. 3 months later and it still hadn’t gone. I was still in pain as soon as I started running and had yet to progress past recovery and base training. I was officially panicking. The year was flying by and I had tried everything hoping it would heal in time but it didn’t. I finally went to a sports physio (yes, I should have done this sooner!) who my friend recommended and she pretty much diagnosed me within 20 minutes. After the last 2 years of running like a hyper spaniel and doing next to no flexibility, all my major muscle groups, hamstrings in particular, were tight and had the tension of the steel cables on a suspension bridge. It was this causing the persistent pain on the inside of my knee. Away I went with a flexibility program and within 2 weeks the pain had near enough gone. 2 weeks…did I feel stupid?! And extremely annoyed. 3 months wasted by something with such a simple solution and so much training time down the drain. But it was game time and over a cautious month, making sure the knee was well on the way to recovery, I began to step up the training and research. Posters with The Spine logo went up around my house. The ‘Spine wall’ (a mass of paper notes and ideas) started to grow. Written on the posters were Mark Caldwell’s quote and, “T-A=0” (Talk – Action = Zero) in big letters, which was stolen from Kilian Jornet’s book and had become my personal mantra. A constant reminder that if I didn’t put in the effort and training, I wasn’t finishing this race.

Roll on to December and the rest of the year couldn’t have gone better. I’d taken a few trips abroad where I had managed to keep my training going, especially during my trip to Nepal in November where I deliberately carried a heavy 13kg and moved for hours, climbing as much as possible every day. I took inspiration from the Sherpas who could pretty much strap a house to their head and get it up to Everest base camp. I’d hiked and run all over the Lake District and trained my navigation through day and night, summer and winter. I’d felt comfortable during the 45mile Spine training weekend and made some great friends who had completed the race or were having a go. Some of us met for our own training runs in the Pennines, which again helped build my confidence. I was happy with my kit and what I was using. I had recced about half of the Pennine way on training trips and had picked the brains of those who had completed the race to the point where my face is probably still up on their dart boards. Months before, I had come to the conclusion that this wasn’t a running race for me as only an elite few would be running and competing for the top spot. I had to average around 40-45 miles daily and my original plan had been to run half the distance but I worked out that the majority of people hiked the full distance. Even Ronnie had said “I think you’re going to hike the Spine”. He was thinking the same as me, that it was doable with an efficient fast hike. This was the surest way of me preserving my body and lasting the distance. I wanted to finish, not compete. The immensity of the race, now so close, was terrifying me so hiking it I was. The last piece of the jigsaw to fall in to place was Ronnie unexpectedly volunteering to be my crew for the entire week. His experience in crewing for long distance events was going to be invaluable as, let’s face it, I didn’t have a clue what I was doing as far as race strategy went. I didn’t even know whether to take the tent or bivvy, let alone when or where I would actually sleep in them!

So January started with me feeling confident. I’d managed to get in some quality training, physically and mentally I was in a good place. By now the Spine race had been dominating my thoughts, day after day, for months. Friends definitely got fed up of me talking about it…in fact I have no friends any more! But if they could hear how often I was thinking about it I’d probably have been sectioned under the Mental Health Act! For my first recce of the Pennines, way back at the start of the year, I’d deliberately chosen the last section finishing at Kirk Yetholm, not daring to touch the wall of the Border Hotel, the official end of The Pennine Way. I wasn’t jinxing myself (I hadn’t earned that touch yet) but I wanted to spend the rest of the year visualising coming in to the finish. I could see myself doing it. I could see myself not quitting. I agreed with myself that I would put myself through hell for this, and yet having never done anything like it before, I couldn’t imagine or visualise the journey I would have to go through, and this scared me…

Days away…

The race got closer with a panic of after thoughts and spare kit dilemmas. I was looking at weather reports and had no idea why as it was always going to be January, so dark, cold and miserable! For the last few months the house had looked like a disorganised Cotswold Outdoors shop, and it now had to be sorted and put in to kit bags for transportation. The final race bag was packed in the order I had carefully chosen. I felt like putting a sealed and signed tape over the top so I could be sure no kit fairies had messed with it overnight. I was paranoid I would forget a vital piece of kit or clothing! Just the final food supplies to buy and I was off. It still hadn’t dawned on me that this was actually happening. That in a couple of days I would stand on the start line and realise I hadn’t mistakenly booked a 3 mile park run. That would be nice right now I thought!

I arrived at Edale on the Friday late afternoon and life immediately started going wrong. I attempted to check in at the hostel a couple of miles away to find they didn’t have my booking. After pulling all sorts of confused faces I worked out I was in fact at another hostel 10 minutes away in Castleton. The race hadn’t even begun and I was already making navigation mistakes! Never mind, I had secured my good karma by offering out my spare bed to any Spiners who need somewhere to sleep. The offer was accepted by a guy called Rob, who I then found out was in fact on the Challenger and would be waking up a couple of hours earlier then I needed to… On top of that I had no phone signal to get hold of him and we hadn’t arranged how or where to meet. I laughed out loud at the situation. If this last hour was setting the tone, the race was going to be hilarious chaos, just what I was expecting! Roll with the punches Ryan.

I eventually found my room, chucked all my kit into it and headed to the pub where I had arranged to meet John Zeffert and Alex Buckland. I was looking forward to a massive pre-Spine meal and hopefully a relaxing beer. I had met John and Alex at the Spine training weekend and we had done a recce around this area a month before. Great guys! John had taken part in so many big races and completed the Spine before. I had massive respect for him and used his expertise and experience a lot building up to the race. Alex I considered one of those hardy outdoor folk. I noticed on the recce he didn’t wear gloves and didn’t have over-trousers on in the cold and rain. The opposite of how I feel I have to dress for the weather (I hate cold hands and hate being wet!) and I wished I was a little more like him. A bit like Pavel doing the Spine with one glove and running tights with holes in them – my worst nightmare! If they can be that tough in the cold then any extra clothing and warmth must be a blessing, but they don’t seem to need it. My worry was if my comfort zone of dry clothing and warm hands was taken away from me, how would I react? Nobody seemed to be having a beer so I opted not to as well. The seriousness of the race was setting in. People were drifting off early for sleep so I grabbed some food and set off to try for the same. I gave a stranger a lift back to the hostel in the hope for some last minute karma! Rob, my roommate, followed me back and we both started sorting kit for the morning. He was a nice, funny guy! He had decided to do the race last minute and had turned up with a set of running poles he had never used before. In fact he’d never even used poles at all before! And he had questions that I wouldn’t like unanswered the day before the challenger! He had done some big races but seemed to be winging this one. Again, like with my appreciation of Alex and Pavel’s toughness in the cold, I wished I was a bit more relaxed in my approach like him. I was beginning to wonder if everyone who finishes these big races was like them. Was my need for control and preparation going to be my weakness when things didn’t go to plan?

I wasn’t tired and neither was Rob so we went to grab a glass of red wine. I needed to relax and have my own space so I went down to one of the lounges with the maps, staring at them pointlessly wondering if anything had changed. After talking with Rob and chilling in the room, lights went out about 23:00. I deliberately didn’t have any coffee this day and had woken up early at 07:00. I didn’t sleep a wink. I wouldn’t say I was particularly nervous or was thinking too much about the race. I couldn’t even say it was because of Rob – he was as quiet as a mouse! I had a comfy night changing positions, hoping I would drift off soon. But it never happened. This was worst case scenario. Apocalyptic stuff! If I was ‘rolling with the punches’ then this punch was like that special double fist “Hadouken!” move that used to happen on street fighter when I was a kid. If I could have wished for anything, it would have been for a good sleep the night before this race. But it didn’t happen. Welcome to the Spine!

Race day, Edale to Hebden Bridge…

Rob left around 05:50. We shook hands and wished each other good luck before I buried my head in the pillow in denial, one last time. To start this race already in sleep deprivation was the worst thing that could have happened. I smiled as I got out of bed. A smile always makes things better, especially alongside a refreshing shower. A quick last minute kit check and I headed downstairs for breakfast. Ronnie was arriving at 07:30 and he walked in as I was mid-feast. It was a nice feeling knowing that there was no way I could possibly eat too much! The room had a few people inside, some were supporters of Challengers who had came back for breakfast. Others would be standing on the start line of the race. It was an eerie atmosphere. Everyone in their own world of thoughts, despite the polite morning greetings. It was a weird feeling having Ronnie here as well. To be honest I didn’t know him that well at all, even though we had been in contact for nearly a year. We had met a few times and exchanged texts or messages on Facebook. He had me on a great training program and was a superb coach. I had a lot of respect for his experience and philosophy on life. But on a personal level I can’t say I knew him particularly well. Yet I knew he was the right guy to be here supporting me and I knew that he was on the same wavelength as me. He was as passionate and focused about me taking on The Spine and finishing the distance as I was. Even though he wasn’t doing the race himself, he genuinely wanted to be here and I was grateful for that. We spoke briefly about tactics, meeting points, meeting him as often as possible and not stopping at Hebden Bridge (the first checkpoint) for sleep. I was already beginning to wonder how much my sleeping tactic had been affected by last night. I checked out of the room and my race bag was on as we walked to the car. “You’re looking lean” Ronnie said, instantly giving me a burst of confidence. I was and I was feeling strong. In a morning spent feeling intimidated by The Spine, I had forgotten how hard I had worked to get to this point. And just how capable I was of finishing. His faith in me, and my own confidence added to the excitement as we arrived at the start line, the village hall in Edale.

I met the dog that was part of the support crew, Sniper! He was as mental as the name suggests! I wondered if he would eat everything I had just packed in to the car, and if the resulting puncture marks in my boots would be ideal for water drainage. The weather was cool with some light drizzle. My Mum arrived traditionally late, which was a relief as I’d had my suspicions she would manage to miss the start altogether! I wondered if it was the first time she had ever been to an event like this. Or if she understood what the mass of kit-burdened, confused people, huddling together like penguins, were about to do. Ronnie bumped in to some people he knew and was talking in the middle of the room whilst I floated around finishing the starting line admin. The night before I’d registered and had my kit inspection. This morning I had the GPS tracker strapped to my bag and gave some last details before having it activated. The guy putting the tracker on said “That’s a light bag!” I must admit I took pride in the kit I had chosen. And it was light – I’d guess around 6kgs at this point. I had my official picture taken whilst holding my race number which made me laugh. Was it for a post-death article or so that the Mountain Rescue knew what I looked like?! I met racers that I had previously approached for advice and also racers I had followed the year before. Pavel was much taller then I expected, a giant of a man! I was standing in the middle of the room with Ronnie and his friend, coffee in hand, processing what was happening. I noticed Eugini staring me up and down. Not even subtly. There was no way I was mistaken. Then oddly he walked around and did the same from the other side! As though he was assessing what kit I had chosen or trying to psyche me out. I wondered if looking ‘lean’ had made him think I would be competing, is this what front racers do to each other? I have a sense of humour that wanted me to say something along the lines of “no point in looking at me from the front…you’ll only see me from behind during the race!” But I knew that couldn’t be further from the truth. I knew full well that he was here to compete at the front and couldn’t be sure he would take it as a joke. I shook his hand and introduced myself, we spoke briefly. I still never worked out what he was looking at. He questioned, “You’re not wearing waterproofs?” I wasn’t, but if he thought that was odd…I was putting them on! A few minutes before 10:00 we were asked to head to the start line, I said my goodbyes to Ronnie and Mum. This was it. I took my place in the centre of the pack. I’d never felt emotion like it. I was more excited and apprehensive then I’d ever been. I was exactly where I wanted to be when I first saw this race 3 years ago. Right at the deep end.

I had a last minute check of my clothing, and inserted my hand in to the pocket of my over coat to find something unexpected. I pulled it out. It was some sort of yellow, rubbery toy gecko, lizard…thing! I laughed, a couple of days before one of my housemates had reaped carnage and hidden all sorts in my kit knowing I would have to go through and double check everything. After removing items such as dvds, plates, a block of cheese and more, I thought I was safe from extra unwanted items. But I now had a pet! And I didn’t remember anything in the rules saying I couldn’t bring one along. It’s not as if it was a mule and could carry my bag, unfortunately. I don’t even know if anybody had given a pre-race talk, if they counted down, or which word they used to spur us all in to action. I was in a world of my own and was now moving forward with the crowd. I ran out proud and excited, failing to spot my Mum and Ronnie. We turned out of the village hall and with the slightest uphill gradient I immediately switched to a fast hike, my chosen ‘race’ pace. I had set a rule that under no circumstances would I run uphill as it would be pointlessly fatiguing when the distance was so long. I could hike uphill almost as fast as I could run anyway and getting up 20 seconds quicker wasn’t a big deal on the scale of things. It might be vital, however, to preserve me for the distance and prevent me from breaking down. I noticed the majority of people were already doing the same. Before long we had left the road and replaced it with the glorious muddy trails of the Pennine Way! I was caught up in the excitement of the crowd, already thinking about running, already wondering how fast the front runners were going. I think it’s the first time I’ve ever managed to stick with my plan of not heading out too fast on an ultra! I exchanged brief words with some German competitors, a reminder that this race was now becoming an attraction to people all over the globe, cool! I started the steep but comfortable climb up Jacob’s Ladder. Happily holding my own with the pace, I hadn’t been overtaken in the previous couple of miles. Passing the camera crew I commented with a smile, “That’s how you know this isn’t your typical ultra, nobody has started running for the camera!” I was already beginning to overheat on the climb as I passed a couple of competitors, why had I listened to Eugini?! The long stretch over the top of Kinder Scout was enjoyable. The navigation is easy and it’s fast terrain. The weather conditions today were so much better than my last recce which had wind knocking me, JZ and Alex off of our feet, and Kinder Downfall flowing up! I was feeling awake and hiking fast, the odd runner was overtaking me but I was usually catching them back up soon after they broke in to a walk. I wondered what the point was if they weren’t going much faster with a run and were only running for short distances before being caught again by a fast hike when they started walking… why didn’t they just fast hike? One in particular kept on running and then walking. Walking only a couple of metres in front of me before being overtaken, and then running past me again 50 metres later. Repeatedly. I rarely get ‘trail rage’ but this guy was driving me crazy. Like if somebody was tailgating me, this was equally starting to annoy me (not an ideal mindset in a race, I know!). Within the first 10 miles of this race I had already realised that I would be more comfortable spending the majority of this race solo. I am by nature, very happy in my own company, almost to the point where it could appear anti-social. I am in fact a very sociable creature and hoped throughout the race I would meet and talk with other racers and staff. But with an almost selfish approach I knew that the only person who would finish this race for me, was me. And to do that I would have to follow my own pace, listen to my own body, race my own race. Even if it meant isolating myself at times. And besides, part of the reason I was attracted to this race was to see if I had what it took to look after myself in the outdoors during the worst weather on my own. Whilst deep in thought about this I rolled over on my left ankle, and only managed to correct it with the cat-like reaction that can only be generated by somebody who is at risk of a DNF (did not finish), 15 miles in to a 267 mile race. This was another major concern of mine, injury. I know that when I tire I’m prone to misplacing my feet and rolling my ankles. I get clumsy. Luckily after a mile I managed to shake off the pain and regain a normal walk, close call!

Snake’s Pass came quickly and before I knew it I was heading up Devil’s Dyke. The race felt like it was starting to spread out now. In the winding uphill maze I had lost sight of other competitors. In the far distance already on top of Bleaklow I could see a couple of people making their way across the top. I wondered if it was Pavel and the pack of front runners already racing far ahead. I began to micro-navigate, setting a compass bearing and checking I had chosen the correct path at every possible junction. Paranoid that I would make a major error and get lost far too early on in the race, I’d save that for later! before long I was over the top of Bleaklow and cruising down towards Torside reservoir. At this point I realised I didn’t have a clue where I was meeting Ronnie. I put in some running to give the legs a different movement and took advantage of the gentle downhill slope. Another runner I was moving with said his GPS was showing we were on 26 miles. On the final part of the decent I heard “Ryan!” I looked to see that it was coming from a complete stranger who was walking towards me. With a confused smile I tilted my head and responded “hey!”

“I’ve been speaking with Ronnie, good luck!” he said. I laughed and thanked him. Ronnie was close then.

I pictured him excitedly telling everyone he saw about the race. I wondered how he had described me and what he had said. Approaching the main road I spotted a line of cars with runners and support crews. Ronnie was there talking with a few of them and looking happy. He asked how I was and what I needed. I was feeling great, I was feeling pretty fresh actually! I grabbed some cereal bars and topped up my water whilst being given some hot drink. At this point Ronnie started filming with his tablet and began asking me questions. I thought this was a cool idea, he must be making me some sort of diary to watch back again after the race! I do however hate being filmed and hearing my own voice. But I couldn’t say that, I was already on camera! I took off and passed a support crew cooking up a big pot of pasta for some lucky runner. I had been warned about not eating enough. I wasn’t hungry and didn’t grab much at the car…was I already falling for this mistake? After crossing the lake I was soon making the climb up to the next mountain range. Daylight was starting to disappear already and I could see people preemptively putting extra layers on. I was hot from the climbing so decided I would leave it for a bit yet.

It was dark and raining with a strong wind by the time I got to Wessenden Head. I searched the line of cars for Ronnie but he wasn’t there. Damn. I was hungry and low on water. Again we hadn’t confirmed where we would meet next but I couldn’t waste time so I cracked on. Crossing the road I realised there was a carpark around the bend, maybe he was there instead. As I approached, I saw them. The strange multi-coloured lights that would become my focus for the rest of the race,  a savior in some form, that I would hope to see at some of my lowest points. And then I remembered Ronnie saying, “watch out for those Christmas lights…” and there in front of me above the headlights were these magnificent Christmas lights, spread on the dashboard of his car. Hiding behind the window like even they had decided this weather was too miserable to be out in. I laughed out loud, epic. It was a great, random surprise. Other runners were passing and making comment. It was even making them smile. As we stood at the back of his car using the high opening boot as our only shelter from the cold, wind and rain I restocked my supplies whilst he made me a baguel with peanut butter. Ingeniously spreading it over the top of the baguel like a sprinkled doughnut, instead of slicing it in half. Made sense to me! I couldn’t help but be envious of the racer also sharing the car park with her support crew. The comparison was hilarious. Here me and Ronnie were freezing our arses off, sheltering behind his open car, catching my gloves that were trying to continue the race without me in the wind. Just 5 metres away from Zoe, sitting inside her parents nice big camper van, warm, dry and probably stocked with too much hot food. But it didn’t have Christmas lights! Another quick video interview, and I was off.

I knew people had left about 10 minutes before me on the trail down to the reservoir within Wassenden moor and I intended to catch them. I put in a light run downwards and could see the head torches in the distance. About 20 minutes later as I was looking for a sharp turn back down into the valley, I spotted them again. They had crossed the valley and begun the climb up the other side towards Black Moss. Before dropping down I had to layer up. I was getting cold, the wind was coming in and the temperature had dropped impressively. In the time it took me to change my layers I spotted head torches gaining on me. Although I told myself I wasn’t competing, the competitive side got the better of me. I didn’t want to be overtaken. I was also actively chasing overtakes when I saw them. So was I racing or not?! At least it gave me a reason to move faster and warm up. I ran down the small slope before fast hiking up the climb of Black Moss. They were still gaining on me and moving well, but I climb fast and managed to increase the gap. Walking past the perfectly straight side of the lake on the top, I admired the water being blown ashore under the moonlight. By the climb up towards the A62, the group had caught up with me and we spoke briefly. The road crossing had a marquee staffed by MR (mountain rescue) who were offering hot drink and biscuits. I spotted the Christmas lights on Ronnie’s car and he came across. It hadn’t been that long since I saw him last so I didn’t need much, just some shelter from the wind and rain in the Marquee to sort an issue with my head torch. The straps over it were too loose and it kept sliding down my face. Not wanting to be overtaken I hadn’t stopped to sort it before now. Instead I had nearly blinded myself a couple of times messing around with it whilst moving! Half way through my cup of tea Ronnie rushed me, “I wouldn’t stay here too long mate”. I wasn’t sure what he meant or why but I guessed he was already thinking the same as me. I wanted to leave and get ahead of this group whilst they stopped and chatted to the MR staff. I could also see head torches not too far ahead making the next climb. I wanted to keep them in sight to help with navigating the next leg. I managed the climb quickly and caught up in time to correct them on the route. They were just about to carry on down the wrong trail without noticing the correct one had subtly turned right and followed the fence line. I had made the same mistake on a recce with Alex and JZ four weeks before. I showed them the bearing on my compass and we headed in the right direction after agreeing. Navigation was reasonably straight forward from now until the White House pub. I didn’t see Ronnie for the next couple of road crossings and hoped he was getting some sleep. I was looking forward to some hot pub food and warmth. It had been constant wind and rain for hours now! My waterproofs were doing a great job and I was comfortable. I was enjoying it, what an exciting way to spend a night! Before long I was crossing the M62 bridge which I knew was about 1 hour from The White House pub over a small climb. On the way down I spotted a head torch in the distance about 400 metres away that had missed the right hand turn they needed to take. I shouted but through the wind there was no way they were going to hear me, and I wasn’t chasing them and adding extra distance to my own route. I thought of how annoyed I would be in their position, when I got to the bottom of the hill and realised the mistake I had made, so close to warmth and shelter! It gave me a good reminder to stay sharp on my navigation. I felt a sense of guilt, I had heard about Spine racers helping each other out. The ‘Spine family’ ethos is legendary. And I wondered if I should have put the effort in and added on an extra couple of kilometers in to help this lost competitor out. But it was a race after all and being independent with your navigation was a vital skill we all needed to use. It was only the first night, with reasonable weather and I didn’t consider them in any danger. So I told myself my decision was justified.

As I ran down Blackstone Edge the pub came in to view. I was feeling surprisingly good at this point but had been looking forward to hot food for hours, especially after being out in the cold, wind and rain for so long. The car park seemed busy. I checked in to the MRT who took my number and said “We have hot water and biscuits, or the pub is open”. Wasn’t a hard decision for me at this point, to the pub! I thanked them and slipped past trying not to look ungrateful for their efforts. Inside it seemed everyone else had the same idea, there were maybe 10 competitors worshiping the fireplace. I remembered the staff from my recce the month before and it was good to see them again, this time as a competitor in the mad race I was telling them about 4 weeks ago. Ronnie hadn’t arrived yet and I wondered if he was still sleeping. I ordered hot food and gave him a call, he’d be here in 5. The pub was impressively geared for the Spine race and catered for us in our own little room near the bar. I have to admit this was one of the elements of the race I was looking forward to, the pub stops and craic with other racers! For me I like to break these big events down in to smaller chunks. Hot food and a brew were my favourite source of morale to aim for. My carrot! Whether it was a pub, cafe, checkpoint or Ronnie’s car, this is how I would break my race down. Never looking too far ahead. It’s easier to deal with that way. Ronnie walked through the door looking like a suspicious bearded pirate. Gazing around the room like it was the weirdest thing he had ever seen. Like there was no way we were really in a pub being served hot meals during a race without it being a trap! If it was a trap, he had fallen for it as well. My plate of hot chips and vegetable lasagne arrived just as he was placing his order. Sitting next to the fire eating that hot food was well earned bliss. I checked my phone briefly to see far too many Facebook notifications and messages. Something wasn’t right…it was a trap after all. I investigated further to find the brief video Ronnie had taken of me to be a ‘diary I could watch back later’, had been uploaded for everyone to see along with another video. I also got a funny message from Dave who had commented that I had stopped at the pub for a pint. Wow, people were actually following me online?! I tried being quick at this stop but it must have easily been 30 minutes. Before I knew it I was leaving and heading off on the trail feeling like the reset button had been hit. I was still feeling fresh and the legs were doing me proud. I figured the checkpoint at Hebden bridge was about 7 miles away. As I cruised along I began to think about people tracking me and the video Ronnie had uploaded. It was annoying me. I didn’t want the pressure of more people then necessary following me. That was more people who would find out that I DNF’d should it happen! It was early in the race. Too early. And anything could happen. I’m a stubborn mule, I didn’t anticipate quitting. I was more concerned with injury or my body breaking down as the distance increased. I just wanted to munch my way through and start telling people when I was nearer the end, and was more certain I would complete the task. I even said this to Ronnie, that later on I would probably put something on FB for friends and family to have an update. There would be no need for that now, I knew what he planned on doing! I soon caught up with a couple of runners who knew the way to Hebden Bridge. They reminded me that there was a small diversion due to a landslide on the way up to Stoodley Pike. I hadn’t even remembered this after receiving the text from the Race HQ earlier. I happily followed them all the way as I hadn’t recced this part. As we descended in to Hebden bridge, I guess about 01:00, the tiredness started to hit me suddenly. My legs wanted a rest and I was feeling the lack of sleep from the previous night. I worked out I had been awake for over 40 hours now, and started justifying my need to sleep soon. We crossed the main road at Hebden, I now knew where I was. I let the other 2 take off ahead as I took a minute to sit down and give my legs a rest. What followed was a very steep climb up the other side of the valley. Halfway up one of the German competitors came past me asking if I had seen his glove. I passed the rest of his team who were waiting for him a few hundred metres further up the climb who annoyingly asked me if I had seen him. More the reason for me to stay solo in this event! The last couple of miles heading to checkpoint one I was extremely tired. I had never stayed awake this long whilst moving this far before. I had done a race that took me 20hrs but I managed to sleep the night before at least. By the time I saw Ronnie’s car I was certain I wanted sleep. I told this to him and was met with the pirate face again. This time confused rather then suspicious. Although we had no solid plan on how to tackle this race I had said I intended to push straight past Hebden Bridge after getting a quick refuel. But he must of sensed the desperation and seen the look of tiredness on me as he didn’t question my need to stop. The descent down in to the checkpoint was like that end of level baddie you have to defeat before you finish the game on your Xbox. I wasn’t surprised runners have fallen and broken bones here before. It was an extremely steep technical trail that was covered in ankle-deep, soft and churned mud. It was obvious a whole field of competitors had ploughed through here like a stampede. Ronnie was wearing his trainers whilst carrying my support bag and soon realised his boots would have been a better option! On the way down I passed Michael and we spoke briefly, he was on the Challenger and just had a quick sleep. I hadn’t worked out how long I wanted to stay until we were in the checkpoint and I was taking my boots off in the small muddy and cramped room. Full of muddy boots and running poles. I was weary of someone accidentally taking mine as I knew this happened every year. So I tried to squirrel them away in a corner, never to be found. I think we agreed on 2 hours which I intended to use efficiently. That would give me half an hour for admin, and 1.5hrs to sleep. The checkpoint was cramped and as expected full of competitors. Ronnie had a quick look around and disappeared back up to his car. He didn’t seem too comfortable in the checkpoint and I wondered if he felt supporters were not suppose to be in there. I checked my feet and got my kit squared away before heading for some sleep. It was easy to find a bed surprisingly. It was a very hot room and my bed was right next to one of the radiators meaning I didn’t even need to use my sleeping bag but it made a good pillow. As I lay on the bed I got a hint of the pains in my pelvis and hip area that would increase with time. I was tired and feeling chuffed with a good days work. But it was only the first day! Sleep didn’t come as easily as I thought but I got about an hour. Waking up feeling slightly refreshed I headed down for food. I moved the tracker to a slightly higher place on my bag as it had been digging in and bruising my shoulder for the last 45 miles which was seriously annoying. It relieved the pain slightly but the damage had been done. Ronnie arrived as I was grabbing some porridge and toast, along with a couple of cups of coffee but he was reluctant to accept either. Before long we were back out the door and making the muddy obstacle course of a climb back up to the main road. This must have been about 05:30 and it was cold, there was signs that a light snow shower had passed. I thought that last night was probably the tiredest I had ever been. I was in for a shock, that was the easiest day of the race…

Hebden Bridge to Malham Tarn…

It was straight forward getting back on to the Pennine way. Daylight was starting to show signs of joining us now and the head torch wasn’t required. On the climb I was caught up by one of the female competitors, Alzbeta. She was Czech and we spoke about her attempt at the challenger the previous year which unfortunately she didn’t manage to finish. I admired that she was back again for the full race and hoped that this time she would manage to complete it! She seemed a very strong, independent person. And like me, had chosen to be by herself rather then in a small group. I accelerated ahead on the climb and as it leveled out I was treated to some great views across Heptonstall Moor. The weather was pretty ideal now, calm with a slight chill which kept me at a comfortable temperature. The path was easy to follow and I was caught up by Harsharn. He had also previously DNF’d on the Spine Challenger, this was his second attempt and this time he was taking on the full race. After speaking briefly he said he wanted to run for a bit and took off ahead. I watched him run. He looked very fit, and had that happy, positive vibe I hoped was similar to my own. I couldn’t see any reason why he wouldn’t have completed his previous attempt with this mindset. A mindset that I believed was key to my own completion. It made me wonder just how hard this race would become in the following days.

I was moving well and wondered if I would see Ronnie at the next car park. If I didn’t it would be quite a while before there would be another possible RV point, so I would have to ration my water and food. He wasn’t there so this would have to be the case. I overtaken a few competitors before Lower Walshaw reservoir. Including the 3 Germans who were moving fast but stopped by the side of the path to adapt their layers. I intended to stay ahead and put in a small run, hoping they would lose sight of me and get confused in the navigation around the reservoir. I knew from a previous recce that the path towards Top Withins would come later than I thought, I had lost some time then negating a couple of earlier paths and hoped they would do the same. I went past the stone structure on Top Withins which I had noted as a possible sleeping spot. It wasn’t as attractive in this cold and windy weather, I had last been here in the summer! As I got to Ponden reservoir I was on the look out for Ronnie. I was hunting. My food and water was running low and I was getting hungry and thirsty. Again there was no sight, I hoped he was getting some decent rest and powered on to the next hill range. The faster I moved the faster I would get to one of the pubs I had eyed up on the map! On the descent in to Cowling I came across Rob Carr! My room mate the night before the start. He had taken a few falls and was complaining of the effects but was still in the race, it was good to see him as I hadn’t seen anyone for the last few hours. Coming in to Cowling I spotted a car park that was a hive of activity. It was the MRT supplying hot drinks and biscuits. I checked in and spoken to Ronnie who was looking happy and refreshed. I had a fantastic hot chocolate the staff told me my timing was good at this point in the race. It made sense as I had now caught up Rob who on the Challenger event started 3 hours before me. If I could keep this up the plan would work. Rob and a couple of other competitors went ahead and I intended to catch them after a rest. I noted Alzbeta was now limping and appeared to be having problems with her feet. Me and Ronnie agreed to meet up at Lothersdale which was 5 miles away. The Hare And Hounds pub generously catered for Spiners there and had the floor covered in plastic sheets, to protect the carpets from our incoming mud storm. And a mud storm I brought. By the time I arrived at Lothersdale I had slipped and slid my way across the last few muddy miles. Including my first fall of the race. A magnificent feat of uncontrolled downward surfing, finishing with a perfectly balanced ballet style 360 spin, and a slam dunk on to the floor. I was starting to see how people who fell over as much as Rob had could injure themselves! The hours had gone by very quickly, the daylight had all too quickly disappeared.

At the pub I walked in to a welcome heatwave from the fire at the side of the room. Harsharn was asleep on the sofa. I wondered if running more of the route than me had tired him, as I was feeling relatively awake. Various other runners were sitting on the few seats that were spare. A small room to the side had people having their feet seen by the medics, including Rob. Ronnie joined me and we ordered hot food and drinks. He had a pint of ale which I was rather jealous of! And he confirmed my earlier thoughts, he said “I’ve never known a race like it”, he was referring to the pub stops! The food was awesome, I think I had a vegetarian chilli. I took my soaking boots off to dry my socks and warm up my feet whilst I observed people around the room. At the far side I could hear someone calling for a lift. He had pulled himself from the race and was now enjoying some relaxation. Later I heard him explain an injury he was suffering from. I could also hear someone near him talking about how he was not a fan of the mud, and “Didn’t want to complete the Pennine way if he wasn’t enjoying it”. Within 15 minutes he had also declared he was pulling himself from the race. This was absurd to me. Did this person not know what he had entered? Had he not researched? This was not a cheap race by any means. And to give in after a couple of days with a reason of hating mud and the weather, during a race that was pretty much designed to embrace that shown he hadn’t entered for the right reasons. They were excuses in my opinion. To complete something this big I didn’t think was possible unless it was something you truly wanted in your heart and head. The race statistics speak for themselves. It was consistent over the last 5 years that about 60% of entrants would DNF (Did not finish) from the Spine. And of those entrants who fail, the large majority will all of been experienced in ultra distance, and probably have had previous attempts. This wasn’t going to be easy in any way, shape or form. I fully expected it to be one of the hardest things I would ever achieve in my life time. But I was prepared for that. I had set my rules of failure. If I did not have a serious life threatening injury or illness, or I was not pulled from the race by the officials I was not stopping. I would not allow myself to. It is never acceptable to quit if your heart is truly in something, unless it’s in line with your rules of failure, a lesson I originally heard from Ronnie and agreed with entirely. And if the heart and mind don’t want it, an event like this will force them to find a reason for you to quit. And they will definitely search hardest when you are sitting in a nice hot pub with good food, and no real reason to go back out in to the cold, dark, sleepless night. Delivered just as easily as the waitress had brought over my food. This guy didn’t want it, and his sub-conscious had found him a reason to quit.

In complete opposite I was now watching Alzbeta, the Czech female from earlier. She was as hard as nails. She casually sat on her seat eating her meal whilst the medics lanced her blistered feet. She didn’t even blink. I had already seen her walking in pain. And hearing the medics describe how bad her feet were drilled home just how tough this woman was. And there was no hint of her stopping. I nicknamed her ‘She-Ra’, the heroic character I remember from some cartoon. Ronnie had also noticed. We spoken about how sometimes the toughest competitors in races like these are the females. Of how statistically although less enter, more of them will finish in proportion to the males. And in front of me was a shining example. As I was getting prepared to leave Ronnie covertly tried for my attention, he was in disbelief. And now we both were…A third person in the space of 40 minutes had just pulled themselves from the race. The spine was starting to bite! And I headed back out in to the teeth of the night.

The navigation was relatively easy, I remembered most of it from previous runs despite the darkness. By Thornton in Craven I was starting to get tired and I looked for a bench to sit down on for a minute. I put my headphones in and listened to some music as I fast hiked along the river and headed towards East Marton. I knew there was a nice pub there if I just took a small diversion on to the road. But decided to give it a miss, or risk the Spine race turning in to an unofficial pub crawl! Moving on I soon spotted a head torch in the distance and caught up to it. It was looking around as though lost. I arrived at the turn and met Emiko. A very pleasant lady from Japan who told me she was struggling to find the stile. I knew this section was a bit awkward to work out as the path doesn’t look like you should climb over the fences and go through a small field, there is no obvious stile or sign surprisingly. But I shown her the way and we joined company. I was intrigued. It wasn’t the hardest section to micro navigate and I wondered how she had been stuck there for some time. She explained she had been with someone, they had agreed to meet up further down the road but this hadn’t happened for some reason. They had been together for the whole race so far. And then she explained to me that this other person was a friend and the navigator of the team. I probed further and realised that Emiko wasn’t confident in her own navigation skills. Even at the basic level of using the compass and reading the map. We spoke as I pushed a fast pace. She had completed various 100 mile races so physically and mentally probably had what it needed to complete the Spine. But I couldn’t believe that an entrant could be lacking in these skills. That was a vital part of preparation and I had spent hours practising and reading about them. I couldn’t help but be annoyed that I was now showing someone the way who otherwise would probably struggle. I was also extremely tired now. I was moving fast to make the next checkpoint where I knew I could sleep. We spoke more, she had been relying on the other person and previous recces to get by so far. We spoke about navigation courses and I explained every now and again what it was I was doing with the map and compass. She seemed impressed and complimented my nav. I was still annoyed. But at the same time I recognised that I was being an absolute as%^ole. What was the problem with helping someone along the way? What harm was she doing to me? She was a lovely character. She was also moving very well, physically she was in a good place and keeping up with the determined pace I was setting. She seemed far less tired then me. So trying to make up for my bad manners I apologised for seeming anti-social, and explained how tired I was.

We arrived in Gargrave where Emiko went ahead to look for her friend. I met Ronnie and we went in to a nearby pub. I wasn’t hungry but a hot drink was a good shout so we ordered and took a seat, I wanted to be quick with this stop. I told Ronnie about my experience with Emiko and he seemed more concerned about my pace. He explained that he had heard people speaking about cut-off times at Lothersdale. Something we hadn’t even thought about before now. As far as I was concerned I had seven days to do the distance in my own time, I just needed to average 40-45 miles a day. But I was wrong. Ronnie had looked in to the cut-off times and found that I was way behind schedule, despite what the MRT had said in Cowling. I was in the “red zone”, He explained that I had no buffer time between now and arriving at the next checkpoint. That I had no time to stop and rest before reaching it. That the red zone was a dangerous place to be, and people fall victim to it all too often in races like this. Time wasted at pubs was a big part to play, we had already been 20 minutes here alone. He had tracked me since Lothersdale. Noting that a small group who had left 20 minutes before I did, then arrived here at Gargrave 20 minutes before me again. So he knew I wasn’t slowing down compared to other racers, I had just wasted too much time previously. I was impressed that he was planning things down to minute details such as monitoring the group before me, he really was a pro at this. We agreed that I would not stop and sleep before checkpoint 1.5 at Malham Tarn. It wasn’t the best news as before now I was planning to sleep at Malham before moving past the checkpoint and taking on on Pen-Y-Ghent in one movement. I was pretty exhausted. But he was right, so I’d just have to deal with it and crack on regardless.

At the other side of Gargrave I spotted the MR team who asked for my number and if I was OK. Emiko was here waiting, she hadn’t found her friend. One of the MR staff asked me,

“Can Emiko come with you, she doesn’t know the way through Malham Tarn…”.

I’m not sure if it shown in my facial expression, or in the pause before I replied. But I was speechless. Not only was it acceptable for someone to not be confident in their nav during a race like this. But it was being endorsed by the MR staff of the race as well?! Malham Tarn was somewhere I had been warned competitors get lost and lose hours within. Where the natural rock formations inhibit GPS, meaning even that cannot give you an accurate reading or guide you through. I had intentionally recce’d it twice and could get through it without even looking at my map. I easily saw how tricky it could be to navigate by map, especially at night. And I was about to give someone a guided tour right through it. Through possibly the hardest section to navigate in the whole race. It would mean I had navigated her through probably 20-30 miles, and then would she want to continue staying with me after that? I was furious inside. But I was being an as$%ole again. Or was I? Although I convinced myself I wasn’t competing, it was still a race. This didn’t seem fair to me. If I was in the red zone, so was she. I would fight to get myself out of it, and now would be getting her out of it as well.

In that split second I stepped back and tried thinking about it logically. I really was turning in to a grumpy mare in my tiredness. A side of me I have very rarely seen, if ever. Like the character in the Snickers advert before someone hands them a bar and they return back to normal, this wasn’t me. But I wasn’t hungry, I was tired. The added pressure of the time constraints, fatigue and now having to guide someone momentarily got to me. And I had to address it before it ruined the enjoyment of this race for me. I agreed to take her with me, signing an imaginary contract to stick with her until she decided she wanted to split. My chances of finishing were no less for her joining me. In fact having someone else would probably stop me sitting down as much, something I was starting to do. The company later on in the night might be appreciated and this was an opportunity to help someone else complete their race. This would be part of their own story. So realistically I was becoming annoyed over nothing at all. If you’re reading this Emiko I apologise if I came across as grumpy as I’m thinking I did at the time, I was a sleepy puppy! We left Gargrave and I set a fast pace again. I was determined to get out of this red zone and get to somewhere I could sleep. Emiko was trying to talk with me, we spoke of various things. Her partner who I now realised was the person who had asked me to take her with me at Gargrave, he was part of the MR team. We spoke about her Japanese heritage and work. But I was aware I was being rubbish craic. And I apologised for it multiple times. I was obsessively rechecking the map even though the next leg was pretty straight forward. A river formed a handrail feature for the majority of it. Aware of how tired I was I didn’t want to make any mistakes. Some of the large fields we had to go through required compass bearings to make sure we hit the stile at the other side. It was pitch black and visibility was low. Foot prints were hard to track in the mud and could easily be confused with cattle. This section was horrendously muddy. Thick, evil, energy sapping mud that constantly had us slipping and having to regain balance. Emiko funnily fell over a few times and told me it was a bad habit of hers! On the last few miles to Malham I was experiencing a deep tiredness I had never had to deal with before. Moving forward was turning in to a very hard task. Emiko shown signs she was feeling the same, stumbling every now and again or walking in a slight zigzag. Even she was starting to say how tired she was, and we were both taking short sit downs every so often. I was cursing my sleepless first night and blamed it for how I was feeling. At the same time I smiled as we walked past Airton village. 8 months before now I had recce’d the section from Hebden Bridge to a hostel here. It came to 33 miles on my GPS and at that time I was in bits. And here I was a few months later, I had just done all the way from Edale, past Hebden Bridge and I was charging past the same place feeling physically strong. The hard training was paying off. I was mentally tired but my legs and feet had plenty more miles left in them yet.

We arrived at Malham about 02:30 on Monday morning. I wanted nothing more then sleep but I couldn’t stop. I searched for Ronnie. I was used to him expecting me by now, he’d normally be tracking me online and then walk towards me when I was close. But this time we found him asleep in the car. It dawned on me he must be exhausted as well. He had left a big tank of water outside. Did he want me to top up and move off or was it so that he could make space for his bed? I thought it would be best to wake him just to let him know we had passed through. He woken in a tired daze, I didn’t want him to get out of the car so I just told him we had passed and were moving on quickly. I knew the next section over to Malham tarn would take maybe a couple of hours if I didn’t get lost. And I was confident I wouldn’t.

We began the steep climb up Malham Cove. I moved fast, my legs are strong at climbing from plenty of time spent hiking where I live in the Lake District. I was feeling the benefit every time I had to gain height, despite feeling tired. I got to the top and turned around. I couldn’t even see Emiko’s head torch. I didn’t turn around to check on her at all on the way up, I was just focused on the climb. I hoped she didn’t think I was trying to lose her, I wasn’t. I wondered if she had decided to turn around and head back. Had she turned around after seeing I would be moving faster then she would like in her tired state? Being left alone above Malham Cove wouldn’t of been a nice thing to look forward to, after all. I sat down to wait, leaning against one of the large boulders and immediately nodded off. I woke up after a few minutes with my chin on my chest. I knew it had only been a few minutes because I had checked the time when I got to the top. The cold woken me up luckily. It was absolutely freezing and the wind was biting my face. I went back to the stairs and looked down, Emiko was nearly at the top now. She had needed to stop and deal with a kit issue half way up. I felt better knowing I wasn’t really as evil or selfish as I thought I was being earlier. Back when I nearly had a ‘dolly out the pram’ moment when asked If I could bring her with me. If I really was that bad and didn’t want to bring her, I had just wasted the perfect opportunity to lose her. I could of used the 10 minutes to get ahead and disappear in to the maze above Malham Cove. There’s no way she would have been able to trace where I had gone. But I was a nice person after all it would seem. No longer worthy of the Snickers advert, I would make sure she arrived at the next checkpoint! The rocks across the top were dangerously iced over. we cautiously crossed them towards the rocky valley I was looking for which would send us in the direction of the Tarn.

Heading towards the steps and turn-back I knew was at the end of the valley, I could see a head torch looking around. After some time of it not moving I figured they must be lost, and that my tour group was about to grow in size after they had spotted our approaching lights. At the top of the stairs we met a guy who was searching for his friend. I abruptly asked why they had split up in the first place in this location, known for it’s hard nav and during this weather?! We hadn’t passed any head torches so I was sure she could not be back the way we had come, she must be lost further ahead. He said he had been leading. It didn’t make sense. We hadn’t passed anybody for hours and he had last seen her 40 minutes ago, meaning we should have seen her around the staircase of the Cove. I knew there was little we could do to resolve the situation. It was dangerously cold, any of us could easily succumb to hypothermia if we stopped moving. Emiko was stopping to talk to him and I didn’t want to leave her behind with someone who risked getting lost himself. He didn’t seem to be thinking logically about the situation. He was fixated on getting a GPS signal so that he could call HQ and ask where her tracker was. I calmly explained, shouting above the wind that realistically she had probably camped somewhere as they were not a team. We had not seen a head torch, and there were few places she could have fallen if they had made it over the top of the Cove already. I explained a GPS reference would probably be useless. She was not standing with us right there, she could be nowhere near us and GPS  signal does not work here. He could just direct them to the area above Malham Cove and they would know where to search. Nobody had phone signal. When he started speaking of searching for her I interrupted and told him that the worst thing 3 tired, cold hikers could do right now in the middle of the night was to start our own rescue operation in an area unknown. It had all the makings of further trouble. The next checkpoint was a hour away at the most and we should head there and see the staff. Hopefully we would find phone signal along the way to make an advanced call. Besides, I had now worked out he was talking about She-Ra, and as the female equivalent to Chuck Norris, nothing was harming her! They both agreed and we moved off towards the Tarn. He caught up and took the lead, I noticed something in his pocket was making a noise. It was some form of GPS that was telling him the directions out loud. I spent some time thinking about this over the next few miles. Is this what technology has done to this kind of race now? Is it now allowing people to enter without the adequate navigation skills with a map and compass? Or with the outdoor skills that come through the hours spent outside practicing them? He had left his friend after all, a major mistake in conditions like this. However I was happy to follow him and his talking robot navigator. I checked the bearing occasionally and he was correct. I was in a zombie like state of forward motion. Forcing myself to move with every step, desperately tired. We finally reached Malham Tarn checkpoint at about 04:30-05:00. The first thing I noticed was an audible alarm going off. Ronnie pointed out people in Bivvy’s right under the alarm on the cold concrete floor! I was so glad when he told me he had prepared the bed in his car for me to sleep in. We agreed I would sleep for 1 hour. It wasn’t long but I didn’t care, It was sleep! Finally! I was out instantly.

Before I knew it I was being woken up. I felt refreshed, the short sleep had worked wonders and I was feeling positive. I shouted “Time to break the Spine!” and smiled, I had arrived at the checkpoint in time and had a hot vegetable curry meal for breakfast. The world was great. I made a point of being efficient in getting ready, I went in to the building and saw some familiar faces. I found out She-ra had arrived whilst I had been sleeping. she had indeed stopped and grabbed a quick sleep somewhere above the Cove to our relief, and was now grabbing further sleep somewhere in the centre. It was approaching 07:00 now and a person was arriving for work nearby. Today would be a big day, I would cross Pen-Y-Ghent in to Horton in Ribblesdale and then attack the final leg to Hawes, checkpoint 2. The first major checkpoint where I could get a decent rest and my plan for the full distance would begin. I was feeling good and moving well as I left.

Malham Tarn to Hawes…

I knew racers had left just as I was waking up about 20 minutes before. As I pushed a good pace towards Fountains Fell they came in to view in the far distance. I intended to keep them in sight so I could see where they began the climb. They headed up and in to the clouds where I was expecting them to after looking at the map, and I followed. I was aware of somebody gaining on me from behind. The navigation up to Fountains Fell was easier then I thought it might be in the poor visibility. Plenty of racers had came through here on the challenger by now and left an identifiable trail in the snow which I just had to check with the compass occasionally. As I came to the top of the mist I couldn’t believe my luck. The sun was shining and I was treated to a full cloud inversion. The surrounding peaks showing their summits above a perfectly white cloud.

I was high on life, what a treat! I wondered if weather this good had ever featured in the Spine race before. I turned around and stood still to admire the view. Someone was gaining on me who had been on my tail the whole climb. She caught up, it was Alzbeta! Or She-Ra as I now knew her as! Even more amazing was that she was still relentlessly pushing forward with this very painful looking walk. We spoke about how bad her feet were and I realised she had managed to catch me up despite them. This woman was phenomenal! I pushed ahead and she was soon out of sight as we moved in to more cloud that had moved in. A gap in that cloud broke momentarily and I could see Pen-Y-Ghent in the distance. It seemed horrifically far away, and I knew I had yet to descend and get to it’s base before climbing it. It was a reminder to me just how far this race actually was. I guessed I was maybe at about 80 miles by this point. As I descended I was passed by a couple of fell runners out on their early morning run who wished me good luck as they effortlessly glided past. I was using my poles to balance me on the downhill as the ice combined with the weight of my bag had led to me slipping over a couple of times. By the time I reached the foot I was fed up with the downhill gradient and the flat road was a welcome change. I completed the long road section and was now heading towards Pen-Y-Ghent which was only a couple of miles away. I took a couple of minutes to sit down before attacking the long climb, my legs were tiring fast. The gradient up the side of P-Y-G is reasonable and I started the engines up on the diesel legs, built in the Lake District. They happily powered me and before long I was approaching the steep stair case and scramble to the summit. I had heard voices for the last few minutes and soon came across the source. There was some sort of school group that had approached from the other side of the wall. I briefly spoken with the adult who was leading them. He asked where I had came from and where I was going to. “Edale to Kirk Yetholm!” I said. He worked out I was on The Spine race. As I moved ahead I could hear him explaining the event to the students. I hoped that they were slightly inspired by this crazy race. I didn’t even know things like this existed when I was their age and wish I caught the bug of movement in the outdoors sooner! In fact the first time I climbed P-Y-G was 10 years before now whilst doing the Yorkshire 3 peaks challenge, the 26 mile route destroyed me. How times had changed! A few of them stayed close to me on the climb up to the summit. Staring at my tired, sorry self like I was some sort of alien that had ran through the clothing rail in some outdoor kit shop. I could see Harsharn had already reached the top. I knew it was him because I could make out the mitts he had dangling on the chord from his wrists. At the top I asked if the students could take a picture and wished them a wonderful day before I disappeared in to the long descent.

The descent in to Horton in Ribblesdale is painfully long. My legs were hating downhill by now. There was a lot of ice forcing me to go slower which didn’t help. When I finally dropped below the cloud line I could make out a couple of people about 1 mile ahead of me, they were moving fast. I knew I had to keep this distance between us consistent or gain on them. Because Ronnie would be using this to judge if I was slowing down compared to the other competitors. So I painfully moved faster than comfortable to try and gain some ground. Running occasionally, but my legs disagreed with this massively. Passing the sign saying I had 2 miles to go. I finally reached Horton, the Pen-Y-Ghent cafe I had been looking forward to came in to sight. I couldn’t see Ronnie so went straight in to order food and get in the warmth whilst giving him a call. He was waiting just up the road but would come and join me. I ordered a small cafetiere of coffee and a hot sandwich, with some cake and crisps. This was a big milestone for me psychologically. From here I was pretty much at the end of my first map (The Harvey PW series consists of 3).

I left Horton in Ribblesdale in good spirits about mid-afternoon. I had been told the next 10 miles were easy navigation and would mainly be low level trail which would be a nice change from all the ascent and descent so far. Perhaps they would give my legs a chance to recover slightly and make up some time. I was still in the red zone. I was going fast, probably faster then at the start of the race, I overtook a couple of people and accelerated away. I hoped Ronnie could see the time I was making up on the tracker. Annoyingly I got confused with a turn and as I was correcting this the 2 I had overtaken managed to catch me up. I think it was Constanze, a German lady and a man called Gerard. I remembered Gerard as he had a pony tail hanging from under his beanie and a goatie. I had seen him a few times in the race so far. He used some technical terms as we were talking about the route which made me think he knew his stuff. I was happy to stick with these 2 as we cruised towards Hawes. I hoped this leg wouldn’t take too long, it looked about 12 miles on the map. As we got to Cam end it had become significantly darker. Gerard and Constanze had stopped to put on head torches and I carried on creating a gap of about 200 metres. We were following a snow covered trail road now, I left my head torch off for as long as possible to enjoy the last light. Before we turned off of this road on to a smaller foot trail there was a section that looked like it may be accessible to vehicles. It was also around the 100 mile mark in the race so I hoped Ronnie had made it there so I could have some sort of celebratory snack or drink! This would be the first time I had covered 100 miles on foot non-stop. But unsurprisingly he couldn’t make it, there was a lot of snow around and I didn’t think it would be possible. The 3 of us had joined together again and it was now pitch black. And with the darkness came the tiredness, even though it was still early in the evening. I tailed behind the other 2 who were setting a good pace knowing I would need to take the occasional sit down rest. Within the mist it was easy to lose sight of each others head torches with only a small 50 metre gap, so I ensured I kept within this distance at least. This trail seemed to go on forever. I perked up a bit when we started to descend, knowing Hawes must be within a few miles. In the area of Ten End there was a marshy square kilometre where we managed to lose the trail in the poor visibility and patchy snow. We spread out. Constanze went left about 50 metres, Gerard moved the same distance to the right, towards a brick wall. And I stayed centre choosing to turn on the GPS, and set a compass bearing whilst orientating the map. Team work in action! Gerard believed he had found a trail and was speaking of foot prints. I’m not sure why I found the following conversation so childish or funny at the time. Maybe it was the tiredness, maybe we all were feeling it. They managed to get in to some form of mini argument. Constanze said in her strong German accent

“I think I have found the path!”

Gerard replied “No I have the path here, there are foot prints and a wall, it must be near the path.”

“But I have foot prints, a lot of them!” She said.

Gerard argued, “We have been over that way, no one saw a path. why don’t you go down what you think is the path so we can see where it leads. Walk down it. There isn’t one there!” In an almost patronising tone. I failed to see how her walking down the path would help to convince him that he was wrong.

“But why don’t you believe me, I have found the path!” she shouted annoyingly.

Whilst they carried on debating I was working out that Constanze was in fact correct. The GPS shown the path to my left, she was the right distance away and was heading in the correct bearing according to the compass. I interrupted whilst laughing and explained that Constanze was correct, turning my head from left to right like a CCTV camera to see if any weapons had been drawn. He was still reluctant to agree so I started walking towards Constanze anyway. We all headed down the path that she had found. I wondered if either of them felt awkward, or if it had been instantly forgotten and lost within a vacuum of tiredness.

Before long we were in Hawes, it was about 20:00 on Monday. It had taken me 18 hours to get here from Malham. There was a slight confusion with the paths that winded through the village. Once we found the right road I felt an immense relief, that had been a long night! Hawes is a major checkpoint in the race. It is at 106 miles, and would be where the shorter Spine Challenger finished. This year the Spine Race would have it’s own separate building, meaning it would be much less chaotic. Meaning better sleep. All I could think about was sleep. It could of been in the PlayBoy mansion and I still would have found some floor space under a table to close my eyes! I had always remembered reading in a report that if you could reach here in a reasonable condition, You had a very good chance of completing the full race. This was the advise I had formulated my plan around. I was here now. I had been extremely tired both nights so far, but physically I felt good. I had controlled my pace and avoided the unnecessary damage from going too fast. I had no injuries other than a sore shoulder from the tracker. Now I could have my first major sleep of the race to reset me for the second part, I hoped for a few hours! So far after starting already in sleep deprivation, I had only managed two short and separate 1 hour sleeps in the last 3 days. That was just 2 hours sleep since waking up on Friday morning! I was more tired then I had ever been, I had just moved further then I have ever moved non-stop. This was the arena within my own mind that I was here to explore. Every hour and mile from now on would take me somewhere I had never been before within my own psychology. It was in this arena I would find out if I had the same mettle as my role models in life. If I was capable of doing the things I had read and thought about so much.

On the short hill up to the checkpoint Ronnie approached me, his body language seemed different this time. There was no “How are you doing mate?” with a smile. No Christmas lights. He was stressed, panicking almost. He got straight to the point.

“The checkpoint shuts in 45 minutes Ryan. 45 minutes! You’ve got no time mate. No time. You need to get back out. There’s no sleep for you here, you can’t. The red zone Ryan. I warned you. You’re second from last! You need to move!”

It took me a few seconds to process what was happening. To work out that this wasn’t some joke, and I wasn’t about to be walked in to a 5 star hotel where the race had graced me with a 10 hour mandatory sleep. That didn’t mean I only had 45 minutes left before I would have missed the cut off time, that this was a close call. That meant it literally shut in 45 minutes and everyone would be kicked out. That meant no sleep for me here. This brought me back to reality like a punch to the face. Like every participant in the race had just decided to do the ice bucket challenge on me at the same time. Second to last?! But I had been moving well and overtaking people?! Had they overtaken me when I slept? I hadn’t slept! At this moment my mate Dave approached, I was glad to see him. I couldn’t believe someone was visiting me during the race! It was slightly awkward, it felt like he had just walked straight in to a domestic between me and Ronnie! I had Ronnie going on about time in one ear, and on the other side I was already explaining to Dave that unfortunately this would be a quick stop. I already knew what I had to do. The checkpoint was a hive of activity, and so warm, it instantly reminded how tired I was. Perhaps that ice bucket challenge would help now! I needed to be efficient here. I had 40 minutes. I needed to eat, change my batteries, top up my water and food, check my feet, change my socks. Simple. Being second to last didn’t bother me. Ronnie explained that the majority behind me had now dropped out of the race so it wasn’t as bad as it looked from that perspective. I was still here! This red zone however, was bad. I needed to get out of it, my only hope to get any sleep at all was to challenge it and get myself some buffer time. Ronnie was relentless. Straight for the throat. Straight for the kill of the guard that prevented me from panicking. Time. Time. Repeating himself constantly. Explaining the red zone to me. Buffer time. It’s like he was surprised that I wasn’t arguing, or stressing with him. I could tell my smile and relaxed attitude was driving him mental. But the reality is I had agreed with absolutely everything he had said! “No long sleeps for you Ryan for the rest of the race. 10 to 20 minute power naps only!”

“Ronnie, calm down mate, we’ll deal with it.” I said with a smile that I could tell made him want to throw something at me. Which was scary because we were in the kitchen at the time. OK, maybe the fact I was washing dishes at this point wasn’t helping to convince him that I was taking it seriously! I’m well house trained! He was in complete disbelief at my lack of visual stress.

And I wasn’t acting. I had two options. Deal with the problem. Or don’t deal with it. It was that simple. And in dealing with it, being efficient, taking the hit of no sleep, getting back out when it’s the last thing I wanted to do. I again had 2 options. I could stress, panic, complain, make excuses. Me and Ronnie could flap at each other like 2 maniacs and run around the room pleading for help or a magic carpet. But what would it achieve? Or I could smile. Still do everything I had to do just as fast, still get back out in the same time, and still challenge the problem. Still deal with it. But in a much better place psychologically. A happy place! Of course we should be happy here, and enjoy it to a degree. We all wanted to be here! We paid for and entered it!

You control your reality and how you look at things.

Things just didn’t make sense to me. How long had all of these people been here? Had they slept even less? Their whole race strategy seemed a lot more relaxed and yet they had made it here first. Because I had opted to move slower it obviously meant less rest time. I wanted that instead, I needed to move faster! I couldn’t imagine a 20 minute power nap even worked, let alone did I believe I was going to do them, that was nonsense! I was talking with random racers and checkpoint staff who picked up on the positive vibe. I was still in shelter with a plate of awesome hot food and drink. They only had chicken curry and rice, I asked for the rice only (Vegetarian) but they improvised and gave me an impressive plate of Beans and scrambled eggs on toast. Yum! The checkpoint staff were awesome. One of them said to me “You need to speed up, we don’t want to lose that smiley face we want you to finish.” This meant a lot to me, I was humbled that the checkpoint staff were so emotionally involved with the racers and knew each of our personalities. I recalled her saying this many times for the rest of the race. I was asked for my bag and tracker, the battery was running low and they would replace it. I gave them a spare buff and asked for it to be folded and placed under the box when they taped it back on to try and help with the shoulder pain. Alistair had also arrived at this time, I was sitting at the bottom of the stairs sorting everything and talking with them. I felt good, alert, awake. But I have since wrote with Alistair and he said

“You and Ronnie were totally out of it, you were so fu£$ed I don’t even think you realised. One of the Mountain rescue staff seemed to be checking on you and you just went ‘alright laddo’ in a normal voice. He looked at you like you were having some sort of laugh! He thought you were some kind of joker! It’s like they were screening you. You told him you were alright and he looked in disbelief. You and Ronnie at that stage seemed like Mr and Mrs! You needed a break. You seemed cool but he was going to blow up! Mainly because you lost time. Thoughts for the future, your partner needs rest too. He needs to see and talk to other peeps, you could have lost that race for him being too knackered as well!”

Welcome to the red zone!

Hawes to Middleton in Teesdale…

Walking down the hill from the checkpoint I bumped in to JZ. His eyes were glazed and he looked absolutely shattered. He had already finished the Challenger and had only just woken up. Me blinding him with my head torch probably aided in that process. It was a weird feeling passing someone who had finished their race when mine felt like it was only just beginning. Dave left with me and we started running through the village, I felt good and running came easy. Surprisingly easy considering I’d just done 106 miles on next to no sleep. I explained this to Dave in amazement. I began to think that maybe from now on I should run more and chase the buffer time I needed. After a couple of miles we found the PW (Pennine Way) and said our goodbyes, he turned around and headed back to the checkpoint and Alastair. I turned on to the muddy trails by the river and aimed in the direction of Great Shunner Fell. There were head torches in the distance about 2 miles ahead. Looking at the contours on the map, I imagined the single path over the spine of Great Shunner Fell would be easy to follow. I was wrong, this would be the first mountain of the route I would genuinely not enjoy. It was pitch black with low visibility, rain and strong winds. The higher I climbed the worse the weather became. The path wasn’t obvious at all. I was tracking foot prints in the patchy snow which were disappearing in to the abyss meaning I had to depend on a compass bearing. The strong wind and mixture of sleet and rain meant I had to wear my snow goggles for the first time in the race, restricting my vision even more and cutting off some of my head torch beam. A few times I followed what seemed like the path and came across a sign which wasn’t for the PW, I then had to retrace my steps to the last known point before rechecking the bearing and using the GPS. It was very easy to get lost. I spent so much time negotiating my way back to the path and the recent imprints of Salomon shoes that I turned to see torches gaining on me. I consciously decided to speed up and not turn back to look at them in case they followed straight for me, hoping they would become just as lost and delayed. The visibility was now at the point where they couldn’t of seen my torch light only a hundred metres ahead. The climb to the summit seemed to go on forever, way longer than I was expecting it to take. I managed to catch another runner, I think he said he was Japanese and looking at the results it was probably Tateno. He constantly had his GPS in hand and was on a similar bearing so I trusted his direction and relaxed, trailing behind him for a bit and checking the compass occasionally. The snow occasionally revealed stone slabs which confirmed we were right by the path sometimes as close as 1 metre either side. Every time I thought we were approaching the summit it started to ascend again. I noticed him occasionally doing some weird skip or dance, like some sort of Muhammad Ali shuffle.  I wondered if it was a technique to wake him up or give his legs a break from the monotonous climb. Or some super secret Japanese technique for endurance! Finally we passed the summit and began descending. I couldn’t see the people from earlier behind me and wanted to make up for lost time so I picked up the pace and managed to get ahead of Tateno.

By the time I hit the path in to Thwaite I had gained about a 10 minute lead. I was getting seriously tired. I knew I would meet Ronnie somewhere here but didn’t know if I would be able to stop and sleep. He met me earlier up the road then I expected and we walked to the car talking, he suggested I have a 10 minute power nap. He had seen me going off track and moving slowly but I explained how bad the weather and visibility had been. I was still thinking about this absurd concept of power naps. 10 minutes? He was mental! But I was in the red zone and was willing to try any tactic. As he was sorting me some food and drink I shivered as I adapted my layers to get warm. I didn’t even bother taking my boots off, instead just placing them in to plastic bags before diving in to the bed. I say bed, and as glorious as it was, it was a thin inflatable air mat placed on top of the folded down seat and boot space. By the time I had climbed in to his estate I realised with the amount of kit inside I wouldn’t have much room to move, and wished I was a few inches shorter. But it was warm, out of the elements and I didn’t have to move. He said he would set a 10 minute alarm from the point he thought I had fallen asleep. So now under a mass of covers and warmth I shut my eyes. The pelvis and hip pains that introduced themselves earlier at Hebden Bridge were back with vengeance momentarily. I had never experienced anything like it before. A deep, throbbing, pulsing pain strong enough to keep me awake. I was constantly turning over to change side and relieve it. After what seemed like nearly 10 minutes I gave up. I couldn’t sleep, I said to Ronnie, “This isn’t going to work” and sat up in the car. He replied “You slept mate…”

I didn’t believe him, but I guessed he was trying to make me feel better. Maybe hoping it would have some sort of placebo effect. As I was getting ready to head back out I strangely felt more awake and alert. The desperate fatigue and head nodding I had had for the last couple of hours felt far less powerful! Was the placebo working?! He mentioned Tan Hill was 8 miles away and that I could get another power nap there so I left aiming for it. I underestimated the height I would have to climb to find the path around Kisdon. I could see a head torch way up above but I assumed they were lost. After climbing over a couple of walls and failing to locate any kind of trail I climbed higher to find that the person I thought was lost had indeed been on the path. This trail was my favourite kind, technical and constantly changing in direction and gradient. I ran along this smiling trying to chase the head torch I had seen half an hour before. The silhouette’s of the surrounding peaks adding to the enjoyment. Annoyingly once I reached the area of Kisdon Force and Birk Hill I made a couple of navigation errors on the cut back paths and could see the head torch disappear in to the distance up and over the next hill. I probably lost 20 minutes here, not good! I located the next long stretch over Low Brown Moor and knew it would be a long one. I was desperately tired again, every building or structure I came across became a possible sleeping spot which I would recce. I couldn’t see any head torches ahead and wondered if they had used one of the buildings to sleep in already. But Tan Hill could only of been another few miles so onwards I went.

Tan Hill finally came in to view and I was hoping that the pub would be open. It was about 07:00 on Tuesday and to my surprise it had indeed been left open for Spine Racers! The community and support for this race was awesome. I had been having a constant battle in my head over the last few hours as to whether I would agree and follow Ronnie’s sleeping plan, or disagree with it. It was my race at the end of the day and I had never experienced sleep deprivation like this. Every night now was exceeding my limits and the only solution my head could foresee was longer sleep. The hours of darkness were turning in to demons of struggling to stay awake with a walk that was more like a drunk shuffle at times, searching for sleeping spots and having all my thoughts clouded in tiredness. I put my navigation errors over the last 12 hours down to it. At the same time this was Ronnie’s expertise, he knew what he was doing. He’d already alerted me to impending failure, the red zone and wouldn’t of called drastic measures unless it was needed. So I decided I would stick with it and see how a real power nap felt, convinced I had not slept on the last one. I was certain I would sleep on this one and we agreed on a 20 minute power nap. Walking in to the pub the heat hit me, it was lovely and warm. A great contrast to the cold night I had just spent outside. I met Mark Caldwell who was here looking after everyone. Surprisingly this seemed like a substantial checkpoint although it was not meant to be one. It had hot water and food. I was offered a choice and opted for the vegetable cottage pie. Ronnie was surprised I didn’t take the dessert option but I was craving normal nutritious food. I was told people had pushed for Tan Hill and slept here instead of stopping at the previous checkpoint and I could see why. In the excitement I was loud on entry, shouting “hello you lovely humans!” and speaking with Mark and Ronnie. I then realised there were a number of racers sleeping around the room. Under tables, on sofas, on the floor. I knew they probably hated me for waking them up if I had, but I hadn’t spotted them at first! I immediately quietened down and hung my head in shame, I was that person…That person who made checkpoints hard to sleep in! I had recognised Mark from previous Spine pictures and race reports. He was oozing confidence in this kind of event, he didn’t have anything to prove and had obviously already completed the Spine before. He was here to help us on our own attempt and was doing a fantastic job. I sensed he was assessing and checking on the state of people entering and leaving. Working us out. I guessed he was ex-military, I could tell my use of the word “roger” instead of a yes intrigued him. I wanted to be efficient here. I ate, drank and then went for sleep just as Tateno was entering. I had spotted a free space on the floor between two chairs which had my name written on it. I was so tired I didn’t need any comfort. I used my down jacket as a pillow and lay on the floor pulling my hat over my eyes. To my surprise Ronnie came back in with some covers. I was gone immediately.

After what appeared to be a blink I was woken up. Immediately sensing the reset button had been hit. The horrific tiredness that had chased me all night was gone and I was keen to use this new life and make progress. I got myself sorted as quickly as possible, topped up my water and headed back outside. The sun was starting to show itself and I knew that I felt far better as soon as the daylight came. Ronnie said, “that was efficient, that was good!”

It clicked all of a sudden how quick and efficient my checkpoints could be. I was almost proud of how it must have looked to people in there, I realised that this was how they all should of been. I was in and out in less then thirty minutes on minimal sleep. I felt brand-new. I was converted…the power naps worked. Ronnie said that the earlier ‘placebo’ was also a real power nap. He explained he had heard the change in my breathing and I had really nodded off for a few minutes even though I did not think so. I could believe this now, as I had felt a similar reset earlier. So we weren’t going to have an argument about sleep after all and I could take the boxing gloves out of my backpack. I told him I was chasing the 3 who had left about 25 minutes before and I ran off down the trail. I felt fantastic, the weather was ideal, the daylight was here. The trail was easy to follow and soft underfoot which made for ideal running. After half an hour there was still no sight of the racers who I was chasing so I figured they must also be running. I followed the PW down to the river and realised there was no bridge. At the time I didn’t work out I could have made a slight detour to find one, but instead condemned myself to wet boots. I cautiously crossed the river which came up to my knees using my poles to balance myself. Annoyingly when I got to the top of the hill on the other side, looking back I could see a couple of options which would have meant my feet would still be dry. Damn. I followed the walls around the large fields heading for the underpass of the A66. As I got close a couple of racers had caught me, one of them was Tateno, and the other was Zoe. I worked out it was Zoe who had the camper van support earlier on in the race. I stopped for some food and let them pass, catching them up again soon and we spent the next few miles in a small group. Tateno still didn’t speak very much. But me and Zoe spoke of running and some of the events she had done previously. It was a nice change to the last few days where I had spent the majority of it solo. The scenery was great, the wind was chilly but it was dry at least. It had now been a good few hours since my power nap at Tan Hill and I was fading fast, I needed another one. As we hooked around Blackton reservoir I held back and began to look for somewhere I could sleep. Along side the path was the perfect place. A small hill by the side with just the right gradient, meaning I wouldn’t have to take my bag off or waste time on admin. I simply sat down, leaned backwards against the hill and was in a comfortable position using the top of my bag as a head rest. It was perfect, if they sold that hill in a bed store, I would buy one! I set a 20 minute alarm on my phone and placed it in the buff around my neck so that the sound would definitely wake me up. I pulled my hat down over my eyes to block out the sun and I was gone. I woken up to voices, knowing my mouth was hanging embarrasingly wide open…Lifting up my hat there were 2 walkers standing right in front of me. We all laughed, they knew of the race and guessed how tired I was. Not anymore! I was alive again. I had just had my first independent outdoor power nap! I checked my phone, the alarm was due to go off in 2 minutes so I had grabbed a good 15 minute sleep. Walking up the hill I saw Ronnie, he had wondered where I was as Zoe had passed and had no explanation either as to why I had suddenly disappeared. The answer was now on the video he was taking on his tablet, I told him about my recent power nap and endorsed his insane sleeping strategy. The one which a day earlier I was planning a mutiny on.

It must have been another 2 hours before I finally descended in to Middleton in Teesdale at about 16:00 on Tuesday, where the next checkpoint was. I met Ronnie who was walking his dog and Ellie from Summit Fever Media stopped us for a quick interview. I was pretty happy with how the last day and a half had gone, Ronnie seemed to agree as well. After taking the massive hit to morale of no sleep at Hawes, I had made good progress on minimal rest and I could hear him explaining the stress of the cut off times to the camera. I got the impression I had gained some buffer time and was out of the red zone slightly. I hadn’t thought about how long I wanted to stop at Middleton in Teesdale, I was clueless as to the cut off times and my positioning in the race. I really was depending on Ronnie to formulate the strategy. I had learned not to think about it too much because he had now shown a tendency to smash my plans with the hammer of Thor he seemed to carry in his pocket, and had presented at random times over the last few days. He must of been happy with the progress, all my Christmases came at once when he suggested I stop here for 3 hours! 3 hours! This would be the biggest stop of the race so far. I was fully expecting the whole ‘have a power nap and get back out’ so this was an amazing relief. By this point I had probably grabbed 3 hours sleep over the last 5 days since waking up on Friday morning. That’s not even exaggerating and seems insane when I think back on it! I’d had a couple of one hour sleeps (Hebden and Malham Tarn) and three power naps. I wasn’t even sure if Ronnie understood how hard not sleeping before the first day of the race had hit me. I was greeted at the front door of the checkpoint and immediately recognised where I had volunteered a year before. It really felt like the race was thinning out now, it was like being shown around a 5* hotel and I was treated like a VIP. He shown me around and introduced me as “number 81” to the people in the main hall who clapped me in! What a race.

I intended to spend half an hour re-fueling before a 2 hour sleep, leaving me half an hour for admin once I had woken. A plate of hot food was put in front of me and I began eating everything I could find, crisps, biscuits and whatever hot food was on this plate. I took a bite of pastry and realised it was a sausage roll, the first time I had eaten meat in months but I didn’t care. I would of eaten the pig if they brought it in. I had now realised hot chocolate was in fact my favourite drink of the race and I was craving it, not coffee which I thought would of been what I wanted (addict!). I also chose to have a shower and put on a whole set of fresh clothes to truly hit the reset button. I climbed in to my sleeping bag on a comfortable bunk bed and barely managed to set an alarm before I drifted in to a deep sleep, even the pain in my hips wasn’t keeping me awake. This time it felt slightly longer then a blink, wow! Without hesitating I jumped straight out of bed or risked falling back asleep. More food and drink before I started repacking my bag. Before long I was back out in to the darkness feeling like I had just had a great and efficient turn-around.

Middleton in Teesdale to Alston…

I had spent some time looking at the next leg on the map and was looking forward to a night on reasonably flat and fast ground for a change. The weather was cool and ideal for a good pace, with no rain! The navigation also seemed reasonably easy, using the river as a handrail feature for miles. I put my headphones in and hiked as fast as I could. I looked back at one point to see a couple of head torches and intended to stay ahead of them so kept up a hard pace. I had never seen this part of the route before. Even in the dark I had to stop and appreciate High Force, an incredible waterfall on the river. I took out my headphones and just listened and watched for a couple of minutes on my own in the darkness. It drilled home how visually beautiful the Pennine Way had been so far. I thought it would be nice to come back during summer, and spend a normal amount of time doing it, in daylight!

On the short climb after Skyer Beck the two head torches had gained on me so I ran downhill, being cautious over the rocks that were covered in thick ice. The sleep earlier had lost it’s effect and tiredness was back. I was beginning to have occasional sit downs and started looking at every bush or wall, checking its suitability for a power nap. I also think I had my first small hallucination somewhere on this trail. I walked past a building made of intertwined branches, like something you would see in Asia or the Jungle. I got excited wondering if it was somewhere I could possibly sleep but on closer inspection it was a large bush! I was intrigued, I wasn’t sure if I had just hallucinated or misinterpreted what it was I was seeing. I would learn later that I probably was hallucinating at the time, but nowhere near as much as I would be over the following nights! I had been made aware of a diversion at Saver Hill, the official path near the river had been deemed too dangerous due to thick ice on a path right beside the strong river. As I approached the area I planned to turn off for the diversion I could see car headlights and people. I was hoping one of them was Ronnie as I desperately needed a sleep. The last few hours pushing as fast as I could was having a detrimental effect! On the plus side I had lost the torches behind me completely in the effort. The people there were Spine support staff ensuring that we took the diversion, I had already planned the correct path to take so had no issues, a quick chat and I was off. Once again I wondered if Ronnie would be at the road where a small habitation was showing on the map. The diversion would take me to this road and small village before a very long section. He wasn’t there, but I hoped he was getting a good sleep.

It may seem like I was depending on Ronnie and his car for sleep, I wasn’t. It would have just been the most ideal solution and the one that would least affect my chances of finishing this race. I was still well aware that I was chasing cut off times, and in the red zone. I was also aware of a rule stating that if a competitor stopped moving for one hour without informing the HQ, Mountain Rescue would be dispatched. I was unwilling to utilise my tent, my choice of shelter over a bivvy, unless it was to save my life. I knew that by the time I had put the tent up, taken my boots and layers off and then slept and packed it all away I would be near this one hour limit, if not over it. And what happened if I overslept or just went over the time accidentally? I could not rely on phone signal to contact HQ so I wasn’t going to risk being pulled from the race by having a MR activation. It wasn’t time efficient. I would sleep in a checkpoint, in Ronnie’s car or find a suitable shelter where I could have a power nap in my clothes. When I realised the car wouldn’t be in the small village I looked around for shelter. There was a farmers trailer by the side of the road that looked perfect to jump in to and lay down whilst sheltering me from the wind, it wasn’t…It was full of mud and s%$t! So I began the walk hoping some form of shelter would appear. The road was painfully long and bare. I don’t know how many hours I was walking along it in to the rain, cold and wind but I was dreaming of coming across some form of building. Even a wall would have been nice to shelter me so I could power nap. But it never came. Miles of nothingness however, did! I was in a stubborn mode of forward motion, knowing my only choice was to move forward. Something would turn up eventually. Slowing down and stopping would get me nothing or nowhere, literally. The visibility was that low there wasn’t even anything to look at to occupy my mind, just a straight, flat and snow covered road. Looking back I could just make out the 2 head torches I had seen a few hours earlier, still tailing me. Finally I came across a road sign, it was the left turn I had been looking for and had a Spine race sign stuck on it to help indicate the diversion. The turning faced me straight in to the wind and over the next mile the weather took a turn for the worse. The light rain was replaced by snow and sleet. The wind grew stronger. Before I knew it I was walking head on in to a full snow blizzard. My snow goggles were on, I had my hands in my North Face mitts which were working a treat (Gutted I managed to lose these somewhere!). My waterproofs were impenetrable. I was so excited I started to wake up, I had never been out in weather like this before. My kit was working perfectly. I was warm, dry and cocooned inside a shield of awesome outdoor technology! Worth the hundreds I had spent! The view through my snow goggles was like something out of a sci-fi film. It was an incredible experience, this is why I had entered the Spine! Before long the excitement had worn off and sleep dominated my thought process again. Ahead in the distance was the first structure I had seen in what seemed like weeks. A small brick structure, like a bus stop. With an open door that looked perfect for a nap. I went inside ready to collapse in exhaustion. I would have even set an hour alarm if I had the chance, a 20 minute power nap wouldn’t of sufficed. What I found was similar to the mud pits you see people bathing in, on those tourist commercials for Iceland. Shin deep, sloppy mud. I couldn’t sleep in here. Thinking back I probably could have, it’s not like I was about to strut down the cat walk for some outdoor wear commercial. But I decided at the time it was too deep, too wet.

As I left the structure the 2 head torches were within 100 metres. I decided to wait for a minute and let them catch up. As they approached I recognised them from earlier meets in the race, it was Stephen Brown and Ian Bowles walking side by side. I said hello and mustered a happy greeting in some form. I began walking with them to be met by tired words from Stephen. Ian didn’t even speak. I spoke with Stephen briefly about where we may be on the route, we weren’t to far from joining the Pennine way again after the diversion. I tried walking side by side but figured without the appropriate A-team initiation and theme tune it wouldn’t of gone down too well. To step along side and force myself in to this team would have been rude and unwelcome. And that’s exactly what I could sense they were. They were walking side by side not saying a word, linked by a bond that must have been forged over miles and miles during this race, perhaps even right from the start line. I believed my presence would annoy them and held back. Maybe they were talking non-stop before they met me, but I figured they were just as exhausted and had been quiet for some time. I wasn’t going to force myself in to the team by walking along side, but I wouldn’t slow down either. They were walking fast and at a pace I agreed with as we approached Cauldron snout and the Pennine Way. There was a car park and I was hoping for a structure, perhaps even some public toilets I could find shelter in! Nothing. Stephen and Ian stopped by the side of the bridge, I presumed to shake me from walking on their heels or to get some food. As we continued walking we passed a building with lights, a water dam of some sort. It invited me in, I could see the warmth. But for the strangest reason I let some unnecessary form of pride get the better of me. I didn’t want to be seen infront of them, looking around buildings and shelter like some desperate, weak, tired competitor. So insanely I continued walking, right past it. I knew in my head at the time this was absolutely mental. Of course I was tired, exhausted and needed sleep, we all did?! I’m sure if they had of seen me searching they would have known exactly how I felt and what I was doing. I said this to myself at the time but still ignored it. I Still walked right past the possible shelter I had been hoping for. Looking back I don’t know why this thought even crossed my mind, maybe because they appeared so strong I wanted to be the same, and fight through the tiredness just as I believed they were doing. If they could, so could I. I also knew the next section was a long trail over a mountain range and in my state, staying in view of them would help me with navigation.

We continued walking and I was paying dearly for missing the only possible shelter I had found. They were moving fast, too fast for me to keep up with. Over the next hour they gained a gap and my fast hike had turned in to a tired shuffle. I started running to try and wake myself up and get some warmth. I was taking long blinks, the kind you take when you can’t stay awake and decide to give your eyes a few seconds of rest. The next thing I knew I was face down on the floor. I had fallen asleep running during one of my long blinks. I didn’t even feel myself fall forward. I jolted in panic until I worked out what had happened. I needed sleep badly, I couldn’t carry on and risk injury if it happened again. I could see lights in the distance and found a house. There was a farm wall near the house made of rocks, which sheltered me from the wind and what was now a blizzard. This would have to do. I sat against it in similar fashion to my last power nap at the lake watching the snow and rain racing over the top. I Set a 20 minute alarm and despite the cold drifted in to sleep. I woke up after 15 minutes before my alarm went off, the cold made sure of that. I was shaking uncontrollably. Now that I had stopped moving the true temperature of the night had become apparent. There was a head torch gaining on me, I felt slightly refreshed and knew I had to move and warm up so I quickly joined the trail. He caught up with me as I was trying to locate the snow covered path and track Stephen and Ian’s footprints, It was Tateno. We stayed with each other for the next few hours negotiating the never ending trail over High Cup Plain and Narrowgate Beacon. He was doing his strange Muhammad Ali shuffle again. He was also taking the occasional sit down and tripped up a couple of times, I’m sure he felt as tired as I did. Towards the end of the trail I was wondering why we were so high and still ascending. I couldn’t work out where we were on the map but we had been going for so long that we must have been near the end. I fell over again after a long blink, I was now paranoid of this and started singing out loud to try and keep my brain active. Tateno must have thought I was crazy, but then Japanese are big fans of karaoke I suppose! The gradient began to descend and we eventually hit a road leading down and in to Dufton. The road was iced over and Tateno slipped over a couple of times. Whilst I was using my poles for balance, looking like Bambi on ice. On the way down it must have been around 06:00 on Wednesday. A cyclist passed us going up the steep hill with his dog, dedication! I wondered what he was training for. We walked towards a van with someone sitting inside who wound down the window, it was a member of the support staff. She told us that there was a dangerous amount of snow on top of cross fell, there had been a hold called and competitors were being told they had to wait until daylight or go up in groups of 3. I had heard of these holds before in previous races, it could have been a chance for forced sleep which would have been amazing but it was nearing daylight. And I was unsure if I would find a group that would want to join for the crossing, we needed a third person if that was the case. Eventually we reached the village hall where there was a checkpoint. I was so delirious by this point I can’t even remember meeting Ronnie but he was there, it felt like ages since I had seen him last. He asked how long I wanted to stop, I said “half an hour”, going for the same super efficient turn around that we had done previously. I was aware it was nearing daylight, and I didn’t want to waste a second of it. I was starting to dread the hours of darkness. He surprisingly suggested 1 hour, he must have known I was suffering. Inside I fashioned a bed by joining 4 chairs together and got in to my sleeping bag. I blinked and then was being woken up. I had another vegetable curry, and made one of my secret weapons. I had brought back a bag of Nepalese ground coffee from my recent trip to Nepal, to remind me of the Sherpas and how much inspiration they had given me. Intending to use it as a carrot during the race, but I had forgotten all about it until now. Here it was! And I needed it, a glorious strong cafetiere of Nepalese coffee to kick start this day. I had Cross Fell to look forward to, the highest climb of the Pennine Way. And I had now been told it was covered in deep snow. As I was leaving another group of runners were just arriving.

I had recce’d this section before and knew it would help me. I knew I could manage it all during day light hours and after a quick video I set off for the mountains. During the video I couldn’t even think straight or answer where I was going properly. I said Garrigill as it was the first place that came to mind along the next leg, but I was aiming for the checkpoint at Alston. I soon caught sight of  a couple of runners up the first climb and began chasing. I was looking forward to today as I knew my legs enjoyed climbing, and there would be plenty of it! On top of Green Fell in the early morning there was a man moving around on skis whilst me and his dog waded through deep now, his dog was taking hilariously massive jumps to cover very little distance. I barked which sent the hound running towards me. I’m not sure the owner appreciated me chatting up his dog! On the first descent I passed the two I had seen earlier. I had my head phones in. Some random, up-beat Eminem song came on and I just went a bit mental, basically. The scenery was absolutely amazing. The ground was blanketed in a perfect deep snow, exactly what I was hoping for at some point. The landscape was just how the race had been advertised in the articles that first got me interested. This was what I signed up for, it was picture perfect! The daylight was here and I was awake, warmed up and on the next climb I went for it. I powered up knowing my legs would handle the pace and overtook another group of about four racers towards Little Dun Fell. I got mad, I needed a better sleep and I was going to earn it today during these perfect weather conditions.

I was running on the down hills now, the impact being blanketed by the soft snow. On the climb up towards Cross Fell I checked my phone to change the music album and had a number of texts and messages. People had been watching the overtakes and I was reminded that I was being tracked online, which encouraged me further! As I passed over the false summit towards Cross Fell in low visibility I set a compass bearing and ran towards it, having recce’d this part before I could visualise where I was heading to. I hooked around the peak and began running towards the descent passing another couple of competitors, Stephen included who I noticed was now separated from Ian. I nearly missed the right hand turn down to Garrigill but the footprints I had been tracking had disappeared so I back traced, finding the correct route in the snow. I was now in the descent and looking forward to Greg’s hut. On the way down someone was walking towards me uphill. I was surprised to find it was Paul Johnston! Someone I know from the Lakes who I had spoken to about the race weeks before. He had been tracking me and had came up to join for a run. I was already high on life at this point, and this was a great treat. We began running downhill and talking about the race, I spoken to him more in seven miles then I had with any other competitor so far during the whole race. He told me he had passed a group of four people on the way up who were only ten minutes ahead and I wanted to overtake them, the chase was on. I suspected it was Anna and the group she had left with, I had made some great progress. We eventually came to Greg’s Hut and we wandered in to the quaint shelter for some coffee, I wanted to be quick but also valued the effort these people had put in and their company. I had a coffee and a brief chat before heading out the door and down towards Garrigill.

Within 20 minutes me and Paul started dropping underneath the cloud, Anna and her group were just ahead. The gradient was a nice gentle downhill slope and I wanted to make up some time, so we ran downhill and fast walked on some of the uphill parts. We eventually caught up with Anna’s group, I can’t remember what brief words were said before we pushed on past and continued running. Further down the hill we crossed and spoke with Joe Faulkner who was also walking up towards Greg’s Hut to support racers. It was a glorious day and the views across the valley were amazing. The miles were flying past and before I knew it we had reached Garrigill. I was checking the map for the checkpoint I knew would be only a few miles further ahead. I started to panic that I may have the wrong grid references as it seemed very short of Alston. I nipped in to the local post office and asked the person behind the counter if she knew where the training and adventure centre was. Her reply collaborated the location I had circled on my map which put my mind at ease. Paul was back at his van so I thanked him and we said goodbye. It was an amazing thing to do, to come and meet me during the race. It was a great uplift as was all the support I had received so far. Just up the road Ronnie was only just pulling up, I had moved that much faster then he anticipated that he had only just made it in time! He said that the last group I had overtaken left nearly ninety minutes before I had! I could see Anna and Zoe so they must have ran down the rest of the hill chasing me, I didn’t want to be overtaken before the next checkpoint so I pressed on. I had said from the start I wasn’t competing. And here I was worrying about overtaking and not being overtaken. It worked for me today. I used it as something to focus on and to keep me motivated in the tiredness, as a tool almost. I was going as fast as my body felt like going and today for some reason it felt fantastic. There was a small diversion in place before Alston checkpoint which annoyingly went uphill through a series of bends, the sun had disappeared and it was dark now. I reached Alston checkpoint around 17:00 on Wednesday, nine hours after leaving Dufton. It was smaller then the other checkpoints but the staff were exceptional nonetheless. Maggie in particular was lovely and treated me to food and hot chocolate whilst I checked my feet and got ready for sleep. I was pretty happy that my feet were fine, I had no blisters and no swelling yet, Camphor spray and Injinjis really are awesome! I found a spare bed and tunneled in to my sleeping bag, we had agreed I would sleep for one hour. I was in a dream where I moving somehow, I was dragged back to reality and realised the movement was Ronnie shaking me awake. I gave him the thumbs up to stop the assault in progress and jumped out of bed. I was expecting my short sleeps to refresh me somehow but this time was different. I was dizzy, spaced out and struggling to understand what was going on for a good ten minutes. Ronnie was talking at me, I hadn’t a clue what he was saying. I had some more hot drink whilst I packed my bag and got ready. As I was sitting there still feeling spaced out I smiled. This is what I was here for after all. Ronnie spoke about the heavy snow that was forecast and we predicted he may not be able to reach me in the car, I couldn’t depend on regular meet ups any more but I would hope for them. I also found out I was now in eleventh position. I remember seeing a young guy in the checkpoint and recognising him. I believe he was the youngest person to ever finish the Spine. He completed it at twenty one years old if I’m correct, I looked at him in admiration. What a guy! When I was that age my only ambition or achievement was trying to out-drink my pals in the town!

Alston to Bellingham…

Leaving checkpoints in the night was getting harder and harder. I now knew what I would feel like in the early hours of the morning and I wasn’t looking forward to it! I took the plunge and left in to the light rain. It was tricky getting back on to the Pennine way and I negotiated through fields and farms on a compass bearing until picking up a sign. I was paranoid I may be going the wrong direction so checked on the GPS, at the same time taking some layers off as I had now warmed up. Layers were infuriatingly hard to guess correctly as when you are freezing and stationary, of course you want them all on!

I reached Alston and used the petrol garage that was open, passing a competitor who was just leaving. After stocking up on some random chocolates I went back on to the trail. I had recce’d this next leg so had a good idea where I was going. It was easy enough to follow and before long I had crossed the road and was climbing up the hill towards Whitlow and Castle Nook. The fields were carnage, mud and cattle prints everywhere meaning locating an obvious trail was impossible. I used compass bearings and the GPS to find my way through and eventually crossed the road again and headed towards Slaggyford. I passed the competitor I had seen at the garage in a field just before Lintley. As I hit the road heading in to Slaggyford my recce was paying off. I knew the next bit was awkward, but I managed to get through with no problem and was soon walking through peoples back gardens in Merry Know following the PW. I hoped they didn’t think I was a trying to break in to their house! As I approached Burnstones it began to rain heavily. You pass under a bridge near someones house and I stopped here for a break. I was debating taking a power nap but the persons security lights had been activating for some time, and I didn’t want them to think someone was breaking in to their shed. I also thought I would give the competitor I had passed a massive fright when a body came in to view in his head light! I spent a good 20 minutes here eating and resting my legs. The next section across Hartleyburn common was tricky Navigation. I struggled to find the main trail and spent a lot of time making unnecessary climbs trying to follow the GPS. I wasn’t thinking clearly and was glad when I finally got to the other side! Blenkinsopp common is notorious for being hard to navigate in bad visibility. But for some reason I managed to get through it without any problems. I was in a zombie like state and can remember very little about this part, but I was constantly checking compass bearings and it was far too long.

Coming in to Greenhead I met Ronnie who was parked by the side of the B6318. We agreed on a thirty minute power nap in the car and I jumped in looking forward to some refreshing sleep. This time it definitely didn’t come, my hips and pelvis were extremely painful and I had random thoughts about the route on my mind. We spoken occasionally and before I knew it Ronnie was saying, “Sorry but that’s 30 minutes mate…” I was hoping in Mercy he would reset the clock until I had actually fallen asleep! But no such luck. f%$k! It was about 06:00 when I was getting ready to leave the car. Javed approached and began speaking with Ronnie. This was the first time I had seen him again since the start line. He appeared fresh as a daisy and was his usual calm self. I had a lot of respect for Javed knowing how many other big races he had completed, multiple Spine finishes amongst them. This guy was just on holiday! He took some water and we left at a similar time. I left just after and managed to get slightly lost, climbing all the way up the stairs to the Castle before realising the path must of been at the bottom!

I knew the next leg would be very long but also reasonably flat. I was also super happy that I was now moving on the third and final map of the Pennine Way! I celebrated with some flapjacks made by Joe, they were being given out by Tom Jones who was waiting at his van taking numbers for the race, it was 07:00 on Thursday. I lost sight of Javed and carried on, hoping to catch him up. I climbed following the PW on the high left, the peaks were knee deep with snow and very hard to make progress on, I began to panic. I had accidentally left my hiking poles with Ronnie at the car and was now realising how much I had been depending on them. My legs were absolutely smashed. I thought it was suppose to be flat, it can’t be this hard terrain for the next 15 miles surely?! And I couldn’t see Javed’s footprints in the untouched snow. Daylight was starting to return and as I orientated the map to check where I had gone wrong I heard someone shouting me. It was javed down on a path underneath the hill I was climbing on. A much flatter path, so I needed no convincing to drop down and chase him. I hadn’t realised there was a diversion in place but Ronnie mentioned something about it later on. I checked he had my poles and arranged to meet him further down the trail. I tried keeping up with Javed but he was hiking extremely fast, I had no chance. I wondered if my poles would of helped but he was moving very efficiently. By the time we approached the next car park I had lost sight of him but now knew what his footprints looked like, I was tracking like Ray Mears. Someone was taking race photographs as I dropped in to the car park and said they had been speaking to Ronnie, that meant my poles were nearby! Approaching the car he seemed very happy, he had been dancing in the car park! He didn’t seem to be rushing me on this stop but instead had the stove out and was cooking up some good hot food and coffee. Maybe he knew I was destroyed from my failed power nap a few hours ago or that I had a long section ahead. We were also finally on the last map, a big milestone! With my poles back in hand and feeling recharged from food and hot drink I wanted to make best use of the daylight so charged on with a fast hike, the next leg would be very long but would end at the checkpoint in Bellingham.

An hour later we had arranged to meet again so he could join with his dog whilst we walked over Highshield Crags. We talked about all sorts and it was a good distraction from the tiredness and the miles I had ahead of me. The terrain was beautiful, the weather was great and my legs were starting to recover slightly.

I dropped off of Hotbank Crags in to the long, isolated section towards Bellingham. I knew I would be on my own for a long time now and I was feeling exhausted. I sat against a wall to try for a power nap even though I knew it would be wasting daylight, I was that tired. I recieved a text from Damian who told me there was a large group about 3 miles behind and gaining on me so I decided I would push on. As I entered the large forests on Haughton Common I think I was still tracking Javed’s prints, but within an hour I realised I was off track. Ronnie had called and a few people had sent messages saying I was off of the PW. The roads were endless but visually quite pleasant to be lost on, I used the GPS and map to work out how to correct my error. I had followed a road in the same parallel direction without realising the PW had turned off and in to a smaller path. It meant I had added another half a mile on to the route but it wasn’t a disaster. Luckily the ground was fast so I put in the effort to try and get back on the route before I was overtaken.

After what seemed like hours and a couple more navigational embarrassments, I made it out of the forests and on to the plains of Wark Common. The Pennine Way wasn’t obvious and I spent maybe 20 minutes trying to orientate the map and work out my surroundings. My phone was running out of battery and the daylight was quickly fading so I was desperate to find my way before it became dark. I managed to work out where to go and headed in the direction of the farm structures I could see. I had a text from Damian saying there would be a nice surprise waiting at Ash. About the same time I became extremely light headed for no obvious reason. I sat down to compose myself and wondered what was wrong, drinking some water and wolfing a couple of bars but it didn’t subside. This only added to my panic, I needed to get to the next checkpoint. I wondered if I was ill or had low blood sugar, but suspected that sleep deprivation was starting to win the war. As I came in to a farm house in Ash there was a sign saying “Spine racers welcome”. A lady ran out and shouted me in to a lovely garage by the side of their house. It had a couple of sofa chairs, a kettle, and free food! I was blown away by their generosity. It came just at the right time, I needed to rest, refuel and try to shift my light head which was still scarily lingering nearly a hour later. The lady and her husband came and spoke with me. I helped myself to coffee and crisps whilst they went and prepared some hot pasta which went down a treat. I must of looked a sorry mess! I told them about my state of exhaustion and bad head, and probably looked every word of it! It was so tempting to stay in there for longer. I knew that Javed had left not long before me, he must have also got lost around this area. I signed the visitors book and smiled, another great experience on the Spine!

My light head was really starting to worry me and I had regressed to an exhausted shuffle again. Looking forward to sleep. I wasn’t too far away from the checkpoint but I expected it was another couple of hours away at least. The light had gone and it was once again pitch black. And with the night came the demons I had now learnt to fear. I made it to Low stead and was relieved to join a road. Relieved because it was a long stretch for a couple of miles and this meant it was impossible to get lost, for this distance at least.

I looked at my feet as I walked along, illuminated by my head torch beam. The road was covered in patchy snow and ice. I could see a face in one of the imprints. And beside it another, and another. Horrible ghouls and demons. Dark and nasty faces of people and animals. Constantly repeating themselves in perfect patterns. I walked for fifty metres staring at the floor in amazement. I got on to my knees to take a closer look and confirmed that the faces were really there. I began to make theories as to how this was possible. There must have been some sort of art project using this road, where they had rolled a print or something over the ice. Perfectly repeating the same horror themed faces and animals. And then I lifted my head and it dawned on me. The entire road over the next mile looked like one giant, scary face. With the hedges down either side forming the long dark hair, and the road in the centre forming the perfect face of a ghoulish woman. I was hallucinating.

And now even though I knew I was hallucinating it didn’t stop. I continued walking for the next mile staring at the floor and my surroundings in absolute awe. My mouth was probably wide open as I tried to make sense of what was happening. I had never experienced anything like this before! I always imagined that when people hallucinated it would be something quick. That they couldn’t be sure if it was a hallucination or not. My brain was taking the world around me and imprinting what it wanted on to it. Like when you see a random pattern or shape in the clouds and can use your imagination to turn it in to a picture or something you know. My head was constantly and involuntarily doing that to everything I saw. And it was scaring the life out of me, why now? It coincided with my light head which I had completely forgotten about. And why such dark, horrible things?!

As I reached the end of the road and crossed in to a field all of a sudden they were gone. I continued down the field looking for them like a lost puppy. I had a new appreciation for people who experience hallucinations whilst on drugs or due to mental health problems. I now knew how real they could be and feel. I looked back on a few pictures I had taken, there were no patterns or faces there. Just patchy snow and Ice. I could just make out a face in them if I used my imagination, but nowhere near as vividly as what I had just experienced.

I took this combined with the light head I was experiencing as a sign that my body was starting to be deeply affected by the sleep deprivation. The last part up and down hills, negotiating fields to the checkpoint were painfully and frustratingly long. The Pennine Way has a tendency to make you turn through fields when it would have been so much simpler to go in a straight line. I have a feeling the person who set the route was himself, hallucinating at the time! I could already see the lights I was suppose to be heading towards but was turning left and right to keep following the path. Along the way I began to think of how I would explain to Ronnie what had happened over the last 5 hours. The light head, the hallucinations. I wondered if he would just think I was making excuses so that I could sleep. Because I was now one hundred percent certain I had to sleep at this checkpoint regardless of what he said. I couldn’t go through another night like last night, I was a walking cold, brainless zombie. I was starting to make navigation problems and lose control of my own mind. I had ripped my over trousers open climbing over barbed wire fences to correct these mistakes. I finally walked up the road to the checkpoint and saw the Montane signs. Salvation! It was about 19:00 on Thursday now. I have a fuzzy memory of what happened here. I was broken. I can’t even remember where I met Ronnie. I didn’t explain the hallucinations or light head, he would think I was making excuses for sleep. I just couldn’t describe the last few hours even if I wanted to. I remember him talking about snow and cut off times. About how the best option would be to push straight through here without sleep or with just a power nap to do the next fifteen miles to Byrness. He was talking about this as I was sorting my feet and bag. I just couldn’t process what he was saying. I was fixated on the words ‘power nap’. I knew it wasn’t possible. But it sounded like he was saying I had no other option, like it was that or fail the race. I walked across the cold car park to the room where they were serving food, Richard was in here and happily helping everyone out. I had met him briefly at previous races including the Spine and he was a strong runner. I also recognised other members of the checkpoint staff. I sat there in a world of confusion. Not understanding what needed to be done. On one hand I was right at the bottom of my endurance. My body was breaking, I felt ill and could barely stay awake as I painted food all over my face failing to get it in my mouth. I looked like the tomato version of the Joker from Batman! I had never been to a place like this before. But on the other hand Ronnie must be right in his strategy and it made sense. A line had to be drawn, and it had to be clearer then the food line I had smeared across my face. I knew how I had felt when waking from my last one hour sleep at Alston checkpoint. I also knew how horrific the last 12 hours had been. There was no way it could be repeated. It would have been suicide in these weather conditions, I was barely functioning as a human being. In some sort of desperate attempt to help me justify my decision I spoke to Richard and another member of the staff sitting at the table. I can’t even remember what I said or how the conversation flowed. But they must have seen the state I was in, I could tell they appeared concerned. They began telling me I could afford to sleep here for longer, how the cut off times were relaxed enough and that I looked like I needed a good sleep. At just this moment of them explaining all of this, Ronnie came in to the room. I looked at him in distress. Richard and the other member of staff also starting speaking with him and I said I needed to sleep for longer. I then hid in my bowl of food like an Ostrich in sand, and it felt like Richard and the other person were defending my need to sleep for me. I almost felt cowardly but I couldn’t put together a constructive sentence. They were talking about how Byrness will be no good for sleeping like Ronnie had thought, and about cut off times. I could sense the tension in the room, and that the debate was turning in to more of an argument. Ronnie crouched down and began explaining to me the problems that they were having further up the course. Deep snow was slowing people down and it was a serious threat to me completing the race. Challenging everything the others had just said with so much passion and ‘not giving a fu$%’ attitude that I was in awe. He really had his heart in me finishing this race and didn’t care what anybody else thought or how he looked. He was right and was thinking in my interests. But he could tell I was broken, I began to talk of compromises but he then suggested a 3 hour stop. I knew what the others in the room thought. It looked like Ronnie was running me in to the ground without any concern for my welfare. like that over keen Dad that wants their kid to be the best on the school sports team. But that couldn’t of been further from the truth. And over the next 24 hours he would be proved one hundred percent correct. As I went back across and took my layers off to get ready for sleep one of the support staff looked at me and shook her head, as if she highly disagreed with how Ronnie was making all my decisions, and making them wrong. I got in to the car which was warm and took about half an hour to fall asleep due to the pains in my pelvis and hips. When I was woken up I immediately felt slightly better, I was still exhausted but nowhere near as bad as I had been 3 hours ago, I was out of the danger zone. Now I could imagine doing the next leg! As I went in to the hall to prepare my bag on my own I could tell that the support crew had been talking about the incident in the food area. One of the medics came and spoke to me using a tone like I was some sort of casualty. Asking me questions on how I was feeling about continuing. I could tell she was assessing my state of mind, as if trying to see if I was acting under duress from a captor! I knew if I didn’t get this conversation right that I risked getting pulled from the race or held here for longer, but luckily I now felt better. If we had of had this conversation 3 hours ago it would have been a different story entirely. She asked me questions like what the date was, what the day was, did I know how many miles I had to the next checkpoint etc… I managed to answer correctly. Although I struggled to answer the day and date because the whole week had now blurred in to one! When I thought she had asked all her questions I turned the situation back on her knowing it would show I was thinking clearly. I asked her how she was and thanked her for her time! she looked exhausted! I was met with the confused face that I was expecting. I was still in the game!

Bellingham to Byrness…

I left the checkpoint at about 22:00 and knew I had a long night ahead of me, although the fifteen mile section seemed manageable on the scale of how far I had already come. After some initial confusion finding my way through Bellingham and on to the Pennine Way I picked up Javed’s tracks in the fresh snow, he had left the checkpoint not long before me. It was good weather but there was a thick blanket of snow on the floor, it was over my ankles and made for hard progress. The snow was beginning to clump on the bottom of my waterproofs and anchored my feet down to the floor with the extra weight, using more energy. There was no way the trail was visible so I tracked Javed’s footprints and used a compass bearing to keep check. He was bang on, even hitting the rare Pennine Way signs that appeared from the darkness occasionally. The snow got deeper, knee deep in places, and I was placing my feet in the prints Javed had already created to save energy. Every now and again my foot would fall through the compacted snow in to water underneath or become stuck meaning I would fall over. There was a lone head torch in the distance, I resisted the urge to catch up with it knowing it must be Javed. From an entirely selfish point of view I was more then happy to let him navigate this section and break in the snow for me. I would thumb the map and check the compass, using his foot prints to save my own energy. This lonely section went on for miles like this. I wondered how he felt, the fact is he was working extremely hard and I was very grateful! My feet were soaked from falling in to the water under the snow. We were diverted off of the Pennine Way due to the next range having snow so deep people were falling in it up to their waist! Making progress near impossible.

The road we were diverted on to made for much easier navigation and wasn’t as deep. It entered another forest via the road I expected to follow for the next few hours. Under the moonlight it was stunning. The road would merge again with the Pennine way in a couple of miles. I tried moving fast here. I was conscious of the time constraints that Ronnie had explained, but I was also looking for places to sleep. Within an hour or two of the same monotonous road the hallucinations were back. If I thought the last acid trip was bad, I was in for a treat! I was in a far more dangerous position this time. I was cold, freezing cold to the point of shivering despite moving as fast as I could. I had all of my layers on, including my emergency Hagloffs synthetic down jacket. I was struggling to keep my eyes open, falling over occasionally. Walking in a zigzag like the drunk you see trying to make their way home on a Saturday night. Desperate for somewhere to sleep. I was hallucinating that bad and that often I can’t even recall a single one of them, they were everywhere. Constant small creatures, fantasy figures and animals by the side of the road. Things appearing out of trees and bushes. I was thinking of laying down on the road and sleeping but knew I would definitely succumb to hypothermia and that I was in a very real danger of never waking up. I now felt grateful for grabbing more sleep at the last checkpoint, as I could not imagine just how bad I would of been right now if I had only of grabbed a quick power nap. I was that concerned for my safety I wondered if this had now gone too far. If it was time to ring HQ and ask for assistance before I became hypothermic and lost the ability to think rationally. But I knew I was on my own. Even if I rang it in they would probably spend a good couple of hours reaching me, the snow was that deep I doubt they could have got to me with a vehicle. In that couple of hours if I could just move forward I would be within reach of the next checkpoint, I just had to stay as warm as I could and not fall asleep. I could see a light in the distance, a building. I looked on the map and there was a small habitation with a symbol for public toilets. This could be some sort of temporary checkpoint. It would make sense given how much snow there was to have extra safety staff within the area. This could be a dream come true. I could see someone in the doorway, dancing. It was someone waving me in, maybe it was Javed? As I got closer they had gone back inside. I was only about 1km away now. The closer I got the more disappointing it became. I was hallucinating again. It was a house, the light was a window on the second floor. It must have been around 05:00 and someone was up and getting ready for work. There would be no help for me here. I hoped I might see someone in the window who knew what race was happening, and let me in for some shelter. I even thought of knocking on the door!

On the map it didn’t look like Byrness was too far away. As close as three miles, just one final push before safety and sleep. The sun would also be up soon and I would start to feel alive again. I turned my phone off of flight mode, recieving a text message from Lora saying I was on the wrong track. In a panic I rang her straight away, the last thing I wanted to be doing was going in the wrong direction from the next checkpoint! I woke her up, she had sent it hours before when I was on the wrong track upon first entry in to the forests, she didn’t realise we had been given a diversion. I apologised and had a conversation even managing to get out a few laughs and jokes. Daylight was starting to show, I was so close to the checkpoint I could taste the coffee! Lora had told me Javed was just ahead of me, within one mile, which surprised me given how fast he had walked the previous day. I got slightly lost on the final kilometre and wondered if this would ever end. My friend Tom gave me a call to let me know that I was slightly off track and I could see what I had done on the map. Just as someone came running past me asking if I had seen Javed, he had missed the turning and was going straight past the checkpoint. This meant after the whole night being on his tail I had overtaken him within the last 400 metres! I found the signs directing me in to the checkpoint. Matt Green was filming for the Spine updates and I struggled to think of what to say or how to describe the last night. My over trousers were carrying giant lumps of snow like curtains around my boots. I entered the building at about 08:20 on Friday morning. Ronnie was at the other side of the room, with his hammer of Thor in hand ready to smash my world. “Ryan we need a chat mate…”

Byrness to Kirk Yetholm, the Cheviots…

I could sense the seriousness in his voice and body language again. The kind that I had now learnt would be used when I was about to be told I’m not going to sleep, after a night of hallucinating… I’d been pretty confused at points over this week, but never more then now. I knew the next section to Kirk Yetholm. I had recce’d it before as fast as I could using my Spine rucksack and weight. It was back in the summer and I managed to complete the 26 miles in 7 hours. It was 08:30 on Friday morning, and as far as I was concerned even with snow on the ground I was going to give today everything I had left. I predicted it would take me a maximum of 10 hours, meaning I would finish comfortably before the cut off time of 10:00 tomorrow morning. We struggled to get my boots off, the laces had balls of snow that we had to stamp on and hit, eventually giving up all together and just leaving them on. I could tell my feet were swelling now so it would be best to leave them on. Dry socks would have been nice though!

“It’s a good job you slept at Bellingham mate, you can’t sleep here…” Ronnie said. I can’t say I was surprised, and I wasn’t going to act it. There was no need for fireworks or party hats on this announcement. A pinata full of food and dry boots would have been nice though! But I didn’t care. I didn’t need sleep, I didn’t want it. This was it, the final push.

“The snow on the Cheviots mate, it’s waist deep. one and a half miles an hour progress I’ve been told. Those people at Bellingham who said you had loads of time to sleep? They’re out of the race, they’ve timed out.” He continued.

“one point five mile an hour. At that speed this is going to take you 24 hours. You have no time. This is to the wire, this is til ten to ten in the morning!”

He went on to explain how badly the weather had been affecting competitors on the Cheviots. They had slowed to a snails pace due to waist deep snow and progress was worse than anyone had anticipated. Because of this HQ had decided to bring forward the cut off times meaning a number of competitors behind me had now unexpectedly timed out. It would have been impossible for them to make the finish line in time if they had not already made the new cut off times. From a safety point of view it made sense, there was no point in putting people at unnessecary risk if they already knew they couldn’t finish in time. But I was gutted for them, every one of them had been through the same adversity as me to get to this last day. I was also grateful Ronnie had pushed me so hard, his plan had worked. Right from the start his obbsession with planning for the worst, gaining buffer time and surviving on minimal sleep was all to challenge this exact kind of problem.

The nice lady at the checkpoint brought me some hot soup, i put my phone on charge and topped up my water. I only had 20 minutes before I had to be out again and I could tell Ronnie was stressing about this. Watching me like a hawk making sure I didn’t waste any time. I put in an order for the veggie option and just as she was bringing out this awesome plate of food I was out of time, I had to leave it!

“This is down to the wire Ryan! Ten to ten! You have no time!”

Matt and Ellie could tell I was leaving shortly and went ahead, I presumed to film. We left and began marching towards the Cheviots at a good pace whilst I sorted my kit. I didn’t care that I hadn’t slept, taken my boots off or eaten that plate of amazing looking food. This was the sprint to the finish. The opportunity I had worked so hard for over the last six days. One more day was nothing and in this glorious weather I was going to break The Spine. I wasn’t sure who was more excited, me or Ronnie! He was high on life and full of motivational talk. Not even stopping to breath in a speech that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the grand finale of the Rocky films! Reminding me of the adversity I had already beaten to get here, of how close the finish line was. I fed off of it, I was ready to sprint the next 27 miles!

On the steep climb up to Byrness hill I heated up very quickly and had to stop and take off some layers. As soon as I was on the peak I was already thinking I needed to put some back on! despite the amazingly clear sky and sun the strong wind was biting with a bitter cold. The views were spectacular, what a way to finish! I would run as much as I could today. I would make as much progress as I could during the daylight, using it for easier navigation. As I ran towards Houx Hill I could see figures moving around in the snow. It was Matt and Ellie filming. Before long I was on the top of Ravens Knowe and following the trail of footprints on the PW. The snow wasn’t as deep as I thought it would be. It was ankle deep, what was Ronnie on about?! I didn’t notice it at the time, but the warning signs were all there. The next 20 hours would be the hardest of the race without a doubt. The culmination of constant movement, and the exhaustion that a grand total of five and a half hours sleep over eight days will bring. The Spine would put up one last fight.

As I moved down the other side of Ogre Hill I was just following tracks. There wasn’t many in the fresh snow. I never thought to orientate the map properly using the compass, something I would always do. I wasn’t thinking about basic things. I wasn’t looking at the map and paying attention to fence lines or contours. I continued up Coquet Head and my phone was going off, I checked it to see I had hardly any battery. I hadn’t had enough time to charge it at the checkpoint. It was a text from Damian saying I had gone off the route slightly, my brother was messaging me the same. I looked at the map but couldn’t work out what they meant. I had missed the Roman camp and instead was heading up and over Chew Green. The two paths would join again as I went down the other side.

My next error was not following the fence line. I again made the major mistake of not orientating the map whilst I was up high and had a good view of the Cheviot range. Although I had recce’d this part before, I didn’t recognise it. I was becoming confused. Like a dog chasing a ball on nothing more then instinct I charged at Deels Hill. Once approaching the top I knew something was wrong. There were no posts for the Pennine Way and the tracks had disappeared. I dropped right down in to the valley and charged at another nearby hill, again for no good reason. I now tried orientating the map but being down in the valley it was harder. I was making the map fit and thought I was originally correct, so again up Deels Hill I went. I had more messages saying I was off. Some telling me which direction to head. I tried orientating the map and again I couldn’t work it out. I was losing it, I couldn’t think straight. Tiredness was catching up with me and this time during daylight. So far in the race daylight had been my savior, I would wake up and forget about the tiredness. But today it wasn’t helping. I hadn’t even thought about my GPS! I turned it on and worked out where I had gone wrong. I had probably lost a good 40 minutes in this confusion and wasted a massive amount of energy. I had also wasted my phone battery which died on me. Once I was on the path to Wedder Hill I was running fast to make up for lost time. Annoyed at my mistake, why hadn’t I stuck to the basics?!

I soon reached the first Mountain Refuge Hut. Even though it was daylight I recognised I was loosing the ability to think straight, and planned on having a quick power nap here to save the day. In the long term if it stopped me getting lost again it would be worth it. To my surprise as I began knocking the snow off of my boots near the front door there were voices shouting from inside. I went in to find Mark Caldwell and another member of support staff inside. They had made an improvised checkpoint! A great surprise, but I wouldn’t be sleeping here and it had woken me up temporarily. I was treated to a coffee and some hot noodles. The clouds had started to come in and the temperature was plummeting. I also knew I only had a couple of hours at most until darkness so started putting on extra layers. Even this was becoming a confusing task, I was dropping things and in general being clumsy and indecisive. I was aware I must have looked like a disorganised mess to them. Mark said it was nine miles until the next mountain refuge hut where there were more staff, and then only seven miles to the finish. This was great news, by now distance wasn’t intimidating me and this didn’t sound far at all. I could hopefully get to the next hut using this daylight if I could run the majority of it. I was still doing good for time. As I crossed Mozie Law I couldn’t believe how fast the day was disappearing, it was starting to get dark so must have been about 16:00. With the darkness came an even stronger cold and wind.

I was now using my head torch and compass to cross the approach to Windy Gyle. It was a nice relief to climb but the snow was building and progress was getting slower. I looked back to see the faint light of head torches behind me just crossing Beefstand Hill, I guessed they were about 2 hours behind. The closer I got to the summit of windy Gyle the worse the weather became and the deeper the snow. I recognised this bit from my recce and knew once I was on the top I had a level 3 mile plateau that would take about thirty minutes to run across. I knew this wouldn’t be possible this time, as the plateau started I was standing in snow up to my knees…

I checked the map and confirmed all I had to do was follow the fence line for the next three miles. The wind was now so insanely strong I had my buff covering my face as I began moving painfully forward. Every step requiring me to fully lift my foot high out of the deep snow before taking a short step. I was constantly catching my foot on the wall of snow as I tried to move it forward and falling over. Wasting yet more energy trying to get myself up, rolling around like some kind of Walrus. I worked out if I held the thin wire fence to my left it aided with the balance and stopped me falling over as often. Every now and again I got lucky and managed to go a few steps on hard compacted snow before it gave way and I plummeted in. I was breathing heavy and couldn’t believe how hard this was becoming! I was drunk on tiredness and taking short stops to catch breath and rest my legs. It had to be done, it had to be dealt with. So I put my head down and put in hard bouts of effort focusing on gaining as much distance as I could before having to stop for a rest. Occasionally the snow would give way and I would fall in up to my waist. My feet dipping in a pool of water at the bottom before I panicked and moved as fast as I could in vain to try and keep my boots dry. I must have been going for an hour at least and was beginning to wonder how much progress I had made. I turned on the GPS, it was showing me not too far from the start of the plateau so I assumed the weather was affecting its reliability. I continued for another half an hour. Despite working so hard I was moving too slow to warm up. The sleet was hitting me in the eyes and I was in a constant squint wherever I looked. I checked the GPS again, it had moved slightly. It was working, I really had made that little progress in the time. I had barely made a dent in the distance and it terrified me. This effort level was insane. But there was no other option, it had to be crossed. It was in the way. I couldn’t believe a race would put people in this position, this was dangerous territory with temperatures so cold I was practically standing still in a freezer!

I was suffering from the cold wind and sleet. To have an obstacle this hard so close to the end of the race was soul destroying. Hours of the same torture followed before I was nearing the climb at the end of the plateau. I was having the weirdest sense of Deja vu, like I had done this section before in this weather. I certainly hadn’t, it was summer and daylight last time! By now a blurry patch had appeared in my left eye, damaged from being hit by sleet and snow. I had entirely forgotten I had snow goggles in my bag so reached in to the pocket and put them on. Using the fence to pull me along had sawed right through my outer and base layer gloves so my left hand was now exposed. It must have been about 22:00 now. Eleven hours since I had left Byrness and I still had a long way to go if these conditions kept up. Ronnie’s twenty-four hour prediction was starting to look very realistic. By the time I was on the final climb hours later I was mentally and physically destroyed, I needed the 2nd Mountain Refuge hut. The small wire fence I had been pulling myself along had turned left with another line going straight ahead and up the hill. The sense of deja vu and instinct had me believing this was the left turn I needed to take on the way down to Hut two. The GPS was showing me right on top of the junction as well. But I knew from my recce that there would be a more substantial fence line and stile to cross over on the path down. It wasn’t here. I looked back and could see torches making their way across the plateau, they would take 2 or 3 hours to catch me up. Apart from one who was making phenomenal progress and was within half an hour of me. I began stumbling around trying to locate the fence and style. The snow here had deep six foot ditches in between each mound that I had to negotiate around. I couldn’t see anything obvious. The left turn went down in to a valley, exactly the kind I was looking for but there wasn’t a single footprint in the deep snow. Nobody had been this way and where was the stile and fence? My intuition was telling me this wasn’t right. I went back to see where the torches were, the group was still far off but one was now climbing the hill. I decided to do another loop around searching and by the time I came back he had disappeared. This made no sense at all?! Where had he gone! I searched around for him with no trace. I checked my GPS again hoping it would give me the answer, I had checked it maybe ten times now. It was still saying I was on top of the junction. I checked a compass bearing and everything said this was the turn. Apart from my intuition, which knew there should be footprints or signs of activity. And that to start descending down a steep valley in to the abyss, with snow this deep on my own would be dangerous.

I was in trouble. I had spent nearly two hours boxing around the same few hundred metres trying to find the fence and stile with no luck. The GPS and map weren’t helping. My phone had no battery. I was deliriously tired and exhausted, dangerously cold and starting to recognise signs in myself of hypothermia. I realised I hadn’t been noticing important things. I couldn’t feel my face or ears due to the freezing wind, why hadn’t I pulled my buff or hat back over them for shelter? My left hand, exposed through the ripped open glove had gone completely numb. I had blurry vision in my left eye after not thinking to put my snow goggles on sooner. And now standing here under the moonlight, cocooned in the howling wind, sleet and bitter cold my speech was slurred as I cursed my situation. I couldn’t work it out, I had nothing left. But I needed to deal with this and take control.

I was genuinely worried for my safety. I put the slurred speech down to the fact I had left my face exposed to the wind. I told myself to stay calm and assess the situation, I had options. I didn’t have a phone but if worst came to worst I had an emergency button on the race tracker. It might be possible to find somewhere to put up my tent and get in to my sleeping bag whilst I waited. I could keep myself alive if needed. But that wasn’t acceptable, it would be the end of my race and once they found me I would have to walk myself down anyway, albeit guided and crying! I knew there was a group gaining on me and my best option was to join with them. But in the meantime I would try to locate the fence and stile. So again I boxed around on the hill. As my torch light crossed over the horizon I could see a shape about fifty metres away. I continued and came back again, it was the shape of a person. I must be hallucinating, the person had no head torch on and it was pitch black. I stood still and focused on them. It was definitely a person, and then it moved! Doing what seemed like some sort of commando roll to avoid my head torch?! I again just focused my beam on them and started walking in their direction. A head torch came on and they began walking towards me. I was then introduced to one of the strangest people I have ever met, given the circumstances. The first thing I noticed was he had his elbows exposed, wearing some sort of separate sleeves rather then a full jacket. He had a couple of fancy looking watches on the same arm and a pen and paper in hand?! I spoke with him, he appeared calm and relaxed. I got a quick view of the paper he was holding which was full of notes of the mountain we were on. Pictures with areas of rocks noted on them, and he was wearing some large specialist snow boots. I wondered if he was on some sort of military training exercise. But solo? In these conditions?! And why was he trying to hide from me? I said it to him straight with slurred speech, “Look mate, I’m in trouble, I need your help.” I explained the situation. This guy seemed fresh and in control, he was a source of safety that I wanted to cling to. He sensed the desperation and agreed to help me, to my relief. I shown him the GPS and the map and he agreed we must be in the right area. I asked him what he was doing here and he replied he had been making a solo attempt on the Pennine way. This still didn’t make sense, nobody in their right mind would be out solo in these conditions (Unless you were on The Spine!). Occasionally as he was walking around he would crouch down, appearing to take some sort of sample from the ground or place a straw in to it, as though he was drinking through it. He was convinced it was down the valley I had already discounted. He disappeared occasionally, I presumed down the trenches I was trying to avoid. After half an hour we had made no progress and I had just pointlessly boxed around the same area hoping he could find what I had not. He disappeared again, this time for longer and I began to think of the impossible…Was I hallucinating? Have I just hallucinated and had conversations with someone who wasn’t even real? Where was he? He was as strange to me as some of my previous hallucinations after all!

I was wondering if the HQ had been trying to contact me. Or if, worst case scenario, they had dispatched mountain rescue seeing I was lost and had been showing signs of confusion for nearly 3 hours. At this point my last resort plan came in to action. Safety appeared coming up the hill, in the form of head torches. There was about 8 of them in a line working their way up. I didn’t even think to look for the man I had been seeing, I was convinced by now he wasn’t real. I bolted for the fence paranoid I might miss them like I had done the first guy who had disappeared a couple of hours ago. I reached a group, the first person I spoke to didn’t seem to speak English and had a heavy foreign accent. To my relief they were Spine racers, I told them my situation and asked if I could join. Javed approached, as calm and coordinated as he had been for the whole race. This was best case scenario and I was sticking with him! He quashed my whole navigational embarrassment in one sentence, “The turning’s about another mile.” How had my GPS been a whole mile off! Looking back, it is obvious I was not thinking clearly at all. I was completely out of it and frustratingly looking at the map I know exactly where I went wrong. I was not at the top of the hill yet, the path was obviously on the other side after the full ascent. I put far too much trust in the GPS.

I was in a zombie state now, I would follow this group at all costs. I do not know who was around. We finally approached the stile, one of our group had wandered off in a different direction and had to be shouted back. Javed voiced his concern, this guy had been acting strangely and showing signs of hypothermia. It got to the point where it had to be acted upon. All of a sudden, he was there again. The hallucination I had seen further down the hill when I was lost, he was standing right next to Javed…I looked around the group to see if anyone else was talking to him…He shook Javed’s hand! They immediately started talking, he was real! He was a friend of Javed’s who had indeed been making a solo attempt of the Pennine Way, and had planned on meeting him up here. I was glad I wasn’t hallucinating as badly as I thought, but he was still one of the most intriguing guys I had ever met! I still never worked out what he was crouching down and doing with that strange straw object, or why he was making notes.

By now I was dragged back to reality to help deal with someone who was showing all the danger signs of hypothermia. Javed was also watching him, and had decided it had gone too far. I spoke with the confused man and asked where he was going, he said “To climb the Cheviots…” We were already on the Cheviots! I can’t remember what was said but became aware he was now laying on the floor with Javed talking to him. We split the group up, with 2 going ahead to find the hut which had mountain rescue staff inside, so they could bring them back. One person was making the phone call to them, and another of us was carrying his rucksack. I stayed near Javed in case he needed help. On the slow walk down the group again became split up and confused on the route, we sent people to scout ahead. Coming towards us like lightening was the head torches of the Mountain Rescue, moving incredibly fast. They were absolutely superb, immediately taking firm control of the situation. They were monitoring the whole group for signs of Hypothermia and asking us relevant questions whilst shouting above the wind. It was like a scene straight from a movie! They took the extra rucksack off of us and began guiding us down to the hut which was about twenty minutes away. I truly felt safe now. I think back and realise how dangerous the whole event and the last 6 hours had been. I could of easily been that guy in these conditions, I could have also been on my own and lost at the same time…I found out in the hut that it was minus 15 degrees outside in the wind.

Mountain refuge hut two was both carnage and paradise at the same time. I was finally sheltered from the elements. It was a small hut, similar in size to the last one if not slightly bigger, there must have been about ten people inside. Tom Jones was here doing a great job of looking after everybody helped by another person. Even in the chaos I wasn’t forgotten about and was given a hot porridge and sweet drink. There were people sitting and sleeping on the benches, we all looked an exhausted, sorry state! Some were being assessed by Mountain rescue and had been placed in to bivvy or sleeping bags. I remember a medic speaking to me, asking me the same kind of assessing questions from Bellingham to check on my mental state. I thought about telling her of the blurry patch I now had in my left eye but feared it risked having me pulled from the race, so chose not to. The staff had received a call about someone else who required assistance on the Cheviots and were motivating to deal with it, he had been found walking around in a t-shirt I think! Anna was in here with her group, she looked completely out of it and was trying to sleep. They had been part of the large line of racers who I had joined. I tried taking my boots off, my feet now painfully swollen but the laces were clogged together with compacted snow making it impossible. I was desperate for warmth and wanted to get in to my sleeping bag, but I did nothing. I simply sat there on the bench in some kind of comatose state, more tired then I had ever been in my life. Not thinking about or doing anything. I had no energy whatsoever, I wasn’t even thinking about the finish line now so close. I would of just sat there for hours and fell asleep, but Tom started telling people who were fit that they could leave if they wanted. Two racers stated they intended to leave and invited people to join, I knew this was an offer I had to take. I was in no state to get myself to the finish line through my own navigation. If they knew the way and were wanting to leave, my best chance was to join with them and follow. I was so close to the finish line, I imagined an hour or two. I just needed to give everything I had left on one final push and this would all be over. I stood up and put by rucksack on, we left the hut and went back out in to the cold before I had even had the chance to heat up.

They set a horrifically fast pace, to my surprise they said this would take about 4 hours. I was already regretting my decision not to rest longer. I was back in zombie mode, following the head torches in front of me with no thought or intelligence using my painful feet and broken body. We made the climb up to The Schil, I didn’t think there was anymore climbing left so this was highly unwelcome. I hadn’t looked at the map, I didn’t recognise anything I was seeing from my recce months before. At the top of the hill we turned and waited for people who had now joined us to catch up, I think there was about 6 of us altogether. I found a pile of rocks to sit down on and immediately knew I could sleep here straight away despite the elements. Two of the group said they would carry on whilst another couple said they would wait here, I was tempted to fall asleep for a couple of minutes where I was but again decided to get up and just carry on moving forward. This would all be over soon. The downhill was iced over and I slipped a couple of times, I was desperate to get this finished. The group overtaken me and I tried my hardest to keep up with them using my painful limp of a walk but I couldn’t, they gradually got further and further away. I panicked, I didn’t have a clue where I was. To my relief a couple of them seemed to take pity on me and waited. I think one of them was Colin Fitzjohn and the other was one of the mountain rescue members who had raced up the hill earlier. They let me overtake them and walk infront, which meant I had to try putting on my most normal looking walk…That wasn’t going to happen, I was stumbling and tripping all over the place, struggling to keep my eyes open and walking in a zigzag. If it was on the dash-cam of some American cop program, I was failing the sobriety test! Every time I stopped to let them go infront they waited and told me they would stay behind. I was grateful, it meant I would not be on my own. They were looking after me and it was a humbling gesture that I still haven’t had the chance to thank them for. We hit road, this would be the final climb before Kirk Yetholm. One last time my mountain goat legs from the Lake District would do me proud, despite being wrecked they powered up in defiance.

Over the peak I could see the glorious lights of the village I had just moved two-hundred and sixty-seven miles to reach. It was around 05:00 on Saturday morning, the Cheviot section had taken me about 20 hours (You should start gambling, Ronnie!). I started to feel myself getting emotional, I had wondered for the whole race how it would feel to be at the finish line. Ronnie appeared out of the darkness in the big blue down jacket I now recognised from a mile off! We were sprinting the last hundred or so metres to the Border Hotel, the official end of the Pennine Way. I made the touch that eight months before I hadn’t dared to make for fear of jinxing myself, I had now earned it. I planted my hand on the brick wall alongside Ronnie’s, finishing proudly as the team that we had started in. Before smashing out the 10 press-ups we had agreed to do at the finish line, I guess as an extra ‘f$£k you’ to the Spine, that had tried so hard to stop us! I didn’t get as emotional as I thought I would, probably due to the distractions around the finish line. I had an incredible sense of relief that it was over, and a strange disbelief that after seven days focusing on moving forward, I no longer had to. I received my finishers medal and a few pictures were taken. One of my best friends Zak had arrived and they had saved me a beer from the pub before it shut. The pub traditionally gives a free pint of Pennine Way to those that have just completed the full route. We made one last finishing video as I drank some of the now frozen beer. Before long we were at the finishing hall preparing my sleeping bag and roll mat, whilst Ronnie quietly danced around the room.

I had endless time to think on this race about why I was facinated with The Spine and ultra-distance events. It was summed up for me in the DVD when somebody compares it to “life, the real life.” And this last week had been truly that, a mini life. Full of all the highs and lows, challenges and hurdles that everybody has to overcome to get anything important to them in life. To complete these kind of epic challenges, to voluntarily put ourselves in that arena is the same thing as trying to chase our dreams and ambitions. Whatever they may be. They require the same mindset, and if you can succeed in one, you show yourself you can succeed in the other. A lot of people asked me what I was getting from the Spine race and why I was entering, bemused by the cost. The confidence and knowledge that I can complete anything I set my heart and mind to can’t be given by any race director in the world. It isn’t material and holds no value like the finishers medal or t-shirt some people think we do these kind of events for. It has to be earned in the arena. That’s what I was looking for, that’s what I took from the Spine.

With the closing of my eyes this great adventure came to an end, with one of the important things that had made it so…A power nap.