The Spine

Definition

1. Anatomy: The spinal column of a vertebrate.

2.Race: 268mile race up the Pennine Way. Self-supported in the winter. Britain’s most brutal race.

 

As a physio I look at the spine most days of the week. The Spine race however was an enigma, something that excited and scared me at the same time. Here is my story.

 

The Training Weekend and my preparation

The Spine organised a training weekend in November for any participant to come for the weekend and get advice about navigation, kit and the terrain that we would be running on. It was also a chance to meet fellow competitors. I signed up straight away.

 

The morning before leaving for the weekend was manic. Work in the morning then running with Pippa, our border collie dog at lunchtime. By the time I had sorted her out for the weekend, I left a little later than planned and got stuck in traffic the whole way. Having nearly turned back several times due to being in a grump, I eventually arrived in Hebden Bridge. We were staying in a scout hut which was at the end of a long drive. It was misty and dark and all a bit spooky when I arrived. I entered the small hall to be greeted by Scott and Phil the race directors and a whole host of other competitors, mainly men. There followed talks on micronavigation, exhaustion, blisters and the horrible terrain. I nearly left there and then! We then got given the course route, a loop of nearly 50 miles. In my haste to leave I had: A) not realised we would be running that far and B) not packed any food!

 

A sneaky trip back to Hebden Bridge at 10pm whilst everyone else was getting their kit checked saw me pull into the only place open, a petrol station. Fuelled with 3 Mars bars and 2 packets of crisps and the remainder of some Jelly Beans that I had found in my car, I was ready for action. Why oh why I said to myself, do I never prepare for these things.

 

The day was great blue skies and great company. I ran with 3 guys who had been in the race last year; Gary, Richard and Brian. Only Gary finished, Richard getting hypothermia and Brain in his words going mad?! They shared tales of getting cold, running through bogs and coping with fatigue. I also got some tips on navigation and kit. In the afternoon we caught up with a guy who had sped off at the start. Gary increased his speed and I knew exactly what was happening. The old boys where teaching the new kids how it should be done. I was fiddling with my bag at the time and failed to catch up. So I spent the remaining 5 hours with a Swiss guy called Guido. We had a great time and I arrived back at the scout hut full of beans.

 

I had to leave early to get back for Pippa, so missed all the medics talks which was a shame. I returned home buzzing, what amazing people I had met. I was so excited about January but some lessons had been learnt. Sort my food out and learn to use my poles! I also scoured the internet and devoured Richard and Gary’s blogs word by word.

 

My preparation for the event itself involved no specific training plan or statistical analysis of my speeds or distances. It certainly did not involve a coach. I train and exercise as I just love it. I run with the dog 2-3 x a day, go on my turbo every morning and do some pilates when I feel like it. Most weekends I will do a long run to watch my husband, James play hockey on a Saturday and then a long run on a Sunday as well. Nothing is very structured and I mainly train by time rather than distance. I will average 21 hours + a week, which seems a lot but suits me fine. I would not have it any other way. I struggle to rest, Brian would vouch for that! When I am not training, I am at work as a physio. I don’t know if being a physio is a help or a hindrance but I have never had any major injury.  

 

 

looking wet, after a lunchtime run!

 

Over the past 6 months I have had 3 memorable runs. I mainly run on my own, so as to fit it in around the rest of my ‘normal’ life. So on these 3 runs, I had to deal with the unexpected alone. The first exiting a footpath and finding a dead man lying on the road, luckily the police were on the scene. The second was in Windsor park where a man had fallen off his horse, luckily the ambulance was just arriving. The third being chased by 30 cows into a hawthorn bush, I had a narrow escape commando crawling under barbed wire. So running for me is always an adventure and something that I just love to do.

 

My training was therefore quite unorthodox and probably not recommended. What I can say, is that every day I would have some thoughts about The Spine. This re-enforced to me that I was excited and scared by the challenge and was taking it seriously, emotions I had not felt in the previous few Ironman races that I have done. My only worry was that over Christmas and New Year James and I spent 2 weeks skiing in Whistler. This was either going to enhance my training or have an adverse effect on the race. Only time would tell.

 

Just a quick note on my name!! I entered in the summer as Annabel Gates. I then got married and have since become Annabel Cremin. My facebook page where a lot of the Spine talk goes on is Bell, as a lot of my friends call me Bell.   So for those of you that have been confused, I am sorry.

 

Getting to Edale

 

 

How many times can someone pack one bag? My essential kit was all there but what else would I need. 7 days worth of food bags were individually packed for each day, lets just hope that it all gets eaten. My easy week tapering had turned into a nightmare of juggling Pippa puppy, getting stuck in traffic whilst trying to collect a Bivvy bag and trying to sort through a mass of ski gear having just returned from 2 weeks in Whistler the previous Saturday. Thursday after work I had the 100 mile trip to Colchester to drop Pippa off with mum. It was also the day that a cold arrived, my nose was streaming. Sleeping at mum’s and then getting up at 5am to drive back for work, whilst leaving a whinning shivering puppy was a bit stressful. If I had not been feeling so ill, I would have been very upset. I had 5 hours of work where several of the patients told me how unwell I looked and that I should rest up on my week off (little did they know!). Then it was off to the station, the adventure was beginning. Whatever I had not packed was hopefully not going to be needed. My nose is streaming, my head is burning and my legs ache already. Am I really going to start this race this ill? The London train to Sheffield was 3 hours long and I am not really sure what I did, I was too ill to think and the nerves were already kicking in. A tiny train from Sheffield dropped me off at Edale. In my haste to leave I had forgotten to write down the address of the HQ, luckily I spotted some Spiners from the training weekend and followed them to the village hall. It was a mixture of relief at actually managing to get here, anxiety about what I was about to face and awe at all the amazing athletes I was amongst. There was a babble of chatter and lots of hugs and handshakes. I am never good at these moments, always feeling inferior to everyone else and never liking talking about previous races. Despite feeling rubbish, I held my snot in and made an effort to talk to a few I recognised from the training weekend. It was quite nice to be in a room full of like minded people. Friends and family are constantly asking me why I do these things. I guess I can never give them a good answer apart from it makes me who I am. It was good to be standing in a room and not be asked why.

I managed to get a lift to the youth hostel to drop my bags off and then it was back to the hall for the briefing. Race briefing made me feel sick. Conrad, a polar explorer talked about hypothermia and your mind travelling to dark places, whereas John Bamber was scaring me with talk of navigation to avoid sink holes. Only 3 people finished last year, what the hell was I doing? After the kit check and issue of numbers (number 19 for me) it was back to the youth hostel and thankfully a rest for my throbbing head. As there were not many girls in the race I had a whole dorm to myself. I thought I would not sleep but the past week of rushing around to enable me to get to the start line, as well as being ill made me sleep like a baby. I did not think of the race once. I woke early and had breakfast with everyone. There was a slight tension in the air as everyone tried to eat as much as they could. I had a worse headache than the day before and had woken up sweating and with a nose bleed. I can think of better ways to start a race, oh well I thought at least it would stop me rushing off the start line!

 

CP1-CP1.5: The Start

It was 6.30am and the support crew came to fetch us from the youth hostel and take us down to the village hall where we dropped off our own bags. It was then a short walk to the start line. There is a little old lady who lives by the start of the Pennine Way who got very cross last year as people were making too much noise. With over double the competitors, she was out again waving her zimmer frame and shouting to anyone that would listen. It added to the tension that was in the air.

 

At just after 8 am we were off, with people sprinting out the blocks. I took my time getting into my stride. I hooked up with Guido, the guy who I had run a lot of the training weekend with. We stayed together for a while catching up and then he took off ahead of me up Jacob’s Ladder. I think because I was feeling so ill, I just hung back. Jacob’s Ladder is a series of steps leading up to the first peak on the Pennine way and as we climbed, the wind became stronger. I was not wearing many layers so I stopped to put on my wind stopper which nearly blew away as I was trying to be quick, we were in a race after all.

 

It was then past Jacob’s ladder and onto the plateau towards Kinder downfall. This terrain looked like the moon, the frozen bracken and rocks looked stunning.

 

 

 

The peat bogs were also frozen and made it easy going. Then it was on past a frozen Kinder downfall, following the person in front and not really needing to navigate. It was all a bit slippery under foot but I was feeling fine. Then we had a series of slabs to negotiate. These are meant to make the going easier through the most boggy bits. We had been warned about the ice on these slabs but not to venture off them, as you would end up in thigh deep bog. On a recent recce run, one runner had stepped on a slab that had been lifted by the recent rain and ended up tipping it over onto his shin. I therefore took extra care. I saw people falling in front of me and then ‘wham’ down I go onto my right knee. A bit of a throb but I was fine to carry on. The wind was still blowing and it was pretty gusty up to Snake Pass, the name given to the remote reaches of the A57. This was where Conrad and a support car were parked. The three of them looked freezing. After Conrad’s chat on preventing hypothermia which he gave the night before, it made me giggle that they were standing in such an exposed area. After my fall, my home made front snack pack had come loose which was annoying me. So I stopped at the cars to sort it out. Just as I was saying goodbye ‘wham’ down I go again (how embarrassing). With my knee really throbbing now, I pretended it did not hurt and did my best to not hobble off. After a few minutes it did indeed settle down.

 

Luckily the next bit was Devil’s Dyke which was sheltered from the wind. I was following a group of 4, whether it was me or them I don’t know, but they would take off and leave me for dust and then 10 minutes later I would catch up with them. I was not fussed about this, I just continued with my own pace. The next bit was a ridge with a very steep drop to the right hand side. The wind was so strong at this point that I could hardly walk. Luckily it was blowing towards the ridge, so I did not feel unsafe. I had lost the small group at this point but I was happy admiring the scenery and trying not to think about racing. I ran the down hills and flats and walked the up hills, just as Gary and Richard had advised. Slowly the miles ticked by. Just before nightfall I caught up with the group of 4 and another 2 people and the 7 of us came together at a road head. We all got our head torches out and off we went into the night. For the next few miles everyone thought the other person was navigating and because we were chatting with no one navigating, we promptly got lost. It took a long detour and about 90 minutes wasted before we were back on track. Morale was a bit low, especially as the mist came in, making navigation hard. We passed the M62 and continued although with lots of standing and looking at the map, I started to get cold. Oh God, not so soon, I thought to myself. We made our way along to the next road head where there was a support car in wait for us. It was then onto Stoodley Pike, a war memorial statue. This memorial took a long time to get to but once there I knew that it was only a couple of hours to the first check point. We were still a group of 7 but after a style the original group of 4 sprinted off and I was left with a chap called Ian and a guy called Harry, both of them were struggling. Ian was having a hypo as he had not eaten enough and Harry had sore feet. Ian kept retching in the bushes and Harry was hobbling. All I could do was push them onto the checkpoint, navigating well through the fields and down to the scout hut. We got there just after 11.30pm and had some food. They both wanted to sleep until first light, however I was feeling fresh and wanted to push on. I decided to sleep for 2 hours and then get up and see who was leaving. At this point my only ailment was some sore shoulders. However they were quite intense and I struggled to turn my head. I assumed it was muscular due to the poles and was setting myself up for days of misery ahead. On closer inspection I found two deep groves where my clothes had dug in. A quick change and as if by magic the pain disappeared. As I was getting ready to go, I saw Guido and Brian the two guys from the training weekend about to leave. I asked them if I could join them. They thankfully said yes. It ended up being the best decision I would make all week.

Brian had entered last year but as he puts it, he went mad between CP3 and CP4. The loneliness and enormity of the task overwhelmed him. Guido was entered for the first time, into the Spine Challenger. We left just after 3.30am and started at a decent pace. I was worried that I would slow them up and be a burden but I quickly found that their pace was manageable. Guido did most of the night navigation, passing Top Withins in the dark. Top Withins is where Wuthering Heights was based on and it looked a bit spooky to me. Brian then had a bit of a low point from 5am till 7am and got his music out to perk him up. I was happy to be amongst 2 nice people and be feeling strong. The sun started to rise just after 7 and we met Conrad again at a road head just before 8am. Guido started to have doubts in himself. Brian and I egged him on and rejected any doubts he voiced. The day was sunny and bright as we trudged over the boggy moors. It did however seem endless. My food supplies were also not as exciting as I had thought. I was craving more savoury foods and was struggling to consume all my sweet stuff. We passed a couple of guys that looked like they were struggling. We could see them in the distance and I made my spot diagnosis that one of them had injured their right leg. They mocked my physio skills and Brian made it his mission to see if I was right. When we passed them, he asked if they were both ok and they replied that they were fine. I was adamant that my physio eyes would not have let me down. We were later to find out that my hunch was right, as the guy I thought was injured did in fact pull out.

 

It was just before midday and Guido was again having doubts and dragging behind. Brian and I discussed what to do. We were not going to let him give up. We opted for one of Brian’s Pro Plus tablets. Neither of us had taken them before, ‘one or two’ we asked each other. We played it safe and gave him one. Just as well, as the one tablet made him buzz and he was positively marching ahead of us. We finally made Gargrave at 3pm. Seeing a local co-op my mood lifted and I dived in practically salivating as I bought some sandwiches and some iced fingers for everyone. We soon got cold standing and eating, so pushed on to Malham. After leaving Gargrave it started to snow and was getting heavier and heavier by the minute. It was 5 miles along the river to Malham and at this point it was getting dark. With only 2 hours sleep and the daylight fading, my eyes were starting to play tricks on me. It is the oddest feeling to describe. I could see penguins running across the river, statues of cows in the hedge and peacocks in the grass. Your brain is telling you that this is irrational and your eyes are telling you that this is what you can see. These objects would always turn out to be trees, rocks, sticks or bushes when I got closer. I realised I was getting tired. Later Brain told me that he was also hallucinating, seeing faces in the snow. Malham however did not seem to get any closer, morale was made worse by having to turn away from the river and up a steep hill, only to turn and come back to it again after a mile. We were keeping positive as we knew at Malham there was going to be CP1.5 a small tent, hopefully full of goodies. What we had failed to realise was that the tent was at Malham Tarn, not Malham. It was another 2 miles up hill. By this point we were all getting a bit cold, so once we realised that there was no tent at Malham we made the decision to have some food in the local pub and then make our way up to the tent, Guido was falling asleep on his feet. The pub was full of locals and it felt a bit weird sitting there with all our smelly gear on. Guido fell asleep mid sentence whilst we were waiting for food but once we had had something hot to eat and a pint of coke, everyone felt better.

Fuelled for the hill ahead, we trekked up to Malham Tarn, the scene was like something from the Artic. A small white tent surrounded by deep snow, in the middle of nowhere.

 

As the snow was getting quite deep, we opted for 3 hours of sleep before tackling Pen y Gent. John Bamber and his magic tent was empty when we got there. He said that we could sleep in his own tent and we duly dived in before he could change his mind. Brian suggested we slept with our feet facing up the slope to reduce any swelling which had accumulated. Guido was snoring before we had both unpacked our sleeping bags. I lay down but could not sleep. My cold had bunged up my nose and I was struggling to breathing with my head below my feet. I was also pretty cold. I turned myself around and lay there for a bit more. I was still cold. I contemplated waking the boys and sleeping in between them or of cuddling up to Brian’s sleeping bag? I decided it was a bit too inappropriate having never met these guys before. So I put on all the clothes I had plus the bivvy bag and just lay there. I was resolved to the fact that I was not going to sleep due to my cold, so thought I would try and relax my mind instead. I lay there listening to several more athletes arriving at the tent and being told that they had to bivvy out. I must have drifted off to sleep for about an hour, as I woke to the sound of the alarm at 1pm. This was coupled with the noise of a car and urgent voices. Someone had been brought in and there was talk of him needing to go to hospital straight away. We scrambled our stuff together, just in case they needed the tent. The chap was in the John’s magic tent, with a lot of sleeping bags covering him. He looked exhausted and was not moving. Phil and Anna (the chief doctor) arrived shortly after this and checked him over. He did not need to go to hospital but was carried to the car to be taken to somewhere warmer. He looked like a rag doll and brought home how quickly things can turn nasty. We later heard that he was ok but had succumbed to exhaustion and the cold.

 

CP1.5-CP2: Following the lonesome footprints

We left shortly after 1am and a guy called Eamonn who was doing the Challenger, joined up with us. We made good progress and as I had left all my layers on, I even started to get hot! We reached an outcrop of rocks. To our right several miles away there was a small moving light and Brian seemed to think that it was a runner on Pen Y Gent. I gulped, that was a long way away. We shortly arrived at a bank of rocks and had a bit of a scary scramble up to negotiate. They were all covered in snow and a bit slippery. Taking the lead, I hauled myself up and the others followed. I am sure this was not the right path but with the snow and dark, the path was not easy to see. I was thinking if this is just a hill, what will Pen Y Gent be like! We reached a cairn that signalled the top and then Brian let out an exclamation. ‘’I think this is Pen Y Gent!’’ We had climbed up to 694 metres without knowing it!

 

We then made swift progress down and reached a small village, Horton in Ribblesdale. We had been told that we could bypass this village on a new footpath. However, all four of us were not sure where the footpath started. We opted to go the long way round and into the village. Just after day break it started to snow heavily again. The next few miles were dull, dull, dull, an expanse of road extending as far as the eye could see. There was nothing to look at but snow. However there was one set of footsteps.

 

We had been following one set of footprints ever since CP1.5. There was a rabbit or hares footprints often running beside the human ones. It was as if this runner had a little friend keeping them company. As we progressed through the night and into the morning, the footsteps were getting less symmetrical. The person was dragging their right foot and it was getting worse. The footsteps were a bit spooky as they were the only thing to see on this bleak landscape. Eventually we came across a figure in the distance. We passed him, he was ok just moving slowly and he did indeed have a problem with his right ankle. The mystery of the footsteps had been resolved. He did however deny having a four legged friend running beside him.

The other thing that kept my mind occupied was Eamonn and his ability to wee whilst on the move. I have read about this in Dean Karnazes ultramarthon man book but I was now able to question someone first hand. I am not sure why I was so fascinated by it. I guess being a girl is a real disadvantage and time consuming when you are outside and so I was intrigued by this method of saving valuable minutes. I guess I was also bored of the terrain and wanted to talk about anything to keep me distracted. The other 2 boys were also intrigued, how did you not wee on your trousers. I will not go into further details to save Eamonn the embarrassment but I gather it does require practise to perfect the technique. As for me, I was quite happy to stop and do it properly.

 

 

 

 

The last few miles were hard, my right foot felt like it had a large blister on it, I was tired and I had mixed emotions. Eamonn and Guido were at the end of their adventure, whereas Brian and I were not even half way there. Eamonn and Guido pushed on ahead once we had got to the town, Brian and I plodded in behind reaching the checkpoint at 2.30pm. The snow had stopped and it was now a lovely sunny day. However there was no way that Brian and I were going any further without rest. I was gutted not to make the most of the daylight but I guess it would have only been another few hours of daylight anyway. My feet were too sore to really care.

 

 

Each checkpoint meant looking after yourself and checking that everything was still ok, nipping things in the bud to ensure that they did not escalate further. It generally involved 5 areas: food, feet, clothes, packing bag for next journey and sleep. It occurs pretty much in that order. I was quite systematic for once in my life. Food needed to be eaten whether hungry or not, feet needed inspection and treatment. My regime was a clean followed by copious amounts of sudocrem followed by talcum powder and then my slippers.   Today I realised that it was not a blister that was hurting but where the skin had split due to being wet.   That was good news. Then it was drying clothes as best you can. The village hall in Hawes had a few radiators whilst some CP’s had a drying room. The drier you could get stuff, the better it would be on the next leg. Packing my bag meant stocking it up with food for the next leg and ensuring nothing inside had got wet. I realised if I was going to finish this, I would have to look after myself and do it in a systematic way. The more tired I became throughout the race, the less systematic this process became but I feel it was fundamental in ensuring I finished.

 

This process would normally take 1 hour from when we arrived and about 1 hour from when we would wake up to when we would leave. The remainder of the time is sleeping and both of us would always stick our feet up on something to help drain fluid away from the feet. Just before we went to sleep, the first lady Spine Challenger arrived and we all gave Anne Green a big cheer. Later Brian asked me if I felt odd, as I was technically the first Lady Challenger finisher, having arrived at Hawes an hour or so before Anne. I just laughed, my race was still there to be won or lost. We had opted for 6 hours sleep at Hawes. My cold had improved and apart from being a bit shivery I finally slept. Once awake, we were ready to leave by 9.30pm.

 

CP2-CP3: The walking zombie and the torture in my brain

 

It was a clear windless night as we set out...in the wrong direction along the Pennine Way. As Brian had competed last year, I assumed he knew the way and followed. We were both a bit angry at our mistake but 30 minutes later we were back on track. We had decided on a fast paced walk rather than a run and we made good pace over the first few miles. It was then a climb to Great Shunner Fell, 716m above sea level. Great Shunner fell was one of the highlights of the week. We were knee deep in snow upon reaching the summit, the stars were shining brightly and there was no wind at all. Below us was darkness. It was midnight and we both could not have been happier, who gets to experience this in their life time? After Shunner Fell, navigation was a bit hard due to the snow but we reached a track down to Twaite in good spirits. 

 

We had to go through several styles as we made our way through farmers’ fields. The styles had all been left open and I commented to Brian that whoever was in front can’t be in a good way. Then in the distance above us we saw a head torch moving very slowly. We climbed up and soon caught up with the head torch. We were faced with a guy called David Lee. He was sitting on a rock and had apparently fallen asleep. His shoe lace was undone and pockets on his back pack were open. He was in a mess and mumbled that he had only had 2 hours sleep in 3 days. Brian then gave me a look of disbelief. Both Brian and my husband wear glasses and Brian lifted his eyes above his glasses in exactly the same way James does when he is displaying the emotion of utter astonishment. Anyway although I am 30, I don’t really look it and sometimes I certainly don’t act it. Brian’s face just set me off laughing, the uncontrollable type you get when you start snorting. It was very inappropriate but once I started giggling I could not stop. I have to apologise now to David for my laughter, I was probably more tired than I thought. Once I had this under control, Brian and I decided to have a chat and decided that he could not be left on his own. David was considering Bivvying out and we strongly encouraged him to do so once we reached Keld, however we could not get any reception on our phones. He was erratic in his behaviour, dropping off behind us and then sprinting in front. We continued at our steady pace keeping him in sight. The view into Keld from this path must be quite stunning as we were quite high. However as it was dark there was nothing to see. We made our way down to Keld and caught up with David. He was trying to phone HQ and reassured us he was ok and would Bivvy till daylight. We were happy that he was at Keld by a roadside, had phoned HQ and was planning to sleep. So we pressed on. I was quite grateful as his erratic behaviour was freaking me out. I was grateful to Brian for enforcing a 6 hour sleep as up to my own devices I would probably have been in the same state.

 

After the race, David writes in his blog about his experiences near Keld:

‘’I reached what seemed to be a small cove and stopped briefly. Looking into the cove I saw something move and was surprised to see a lady dressed in robes with a section of to wrapped round her head. She was lay down and turned to face me and waved. Then I realised that she was surrounded by 20 to 30 friends and they were all having a whale of a time as though partying. They were there as clear as anything and I watched them for a time before switching my headtorches direction back to the ground to proceed. As I got a bit closer to where the party was, I raised my headtorch to find that the figures were in fact snow covered boulders!? I was hallucinating in the extreme!’’

 

It was now a trek up to Tan Hill Inn. TheTan Hill Innis the highest inn in the British Isles at 528 metres above sea level.It was about 5am and Brian was having his morning low point. I tried to start a game of ‘have you ever...’. This worked well for a bit until I realised I was doing most of the talking and Brian’s answers were monosyllabic. I took the hint. ‘Brian would you like to put your music on?’ I enquired. He had some tunes that would fire him up and I thought this was a good time to encourage their use. ‘Mmm I’m ok’ came the reply. I tried again, ‘I think it would be a good idea if you did’. No answer, I took the hint. So we plodded on in silence which was broken only by Brian saying how much steeper the path was than he remembered and how much further Tan Hill Inn was. I just let him ride out his low mood, I am sure it would be my turn soon. I later jested to him over his daily 5-7am grump. I was not feeling too bad, a bit cold but the snow was making it easy on my sore feet. We could see Tan Hill Inn emerge in the distance and as we got closer Brian said that he could see people in the window. We had just been discussing how much fun it would be if they had a lock in so we could go in for a hot drink but the thought of people being in there was silly, as it was about 5am. I laughed it off, telling Brain he was seeing things. We had a quick stop outside the pub and then psyched ourselves up for the moor which went on and on and on. The only good thing was that due to the snow, it was not as boggy and navigation was ok as well. It was still dark and we more or less plodded on in silence.

 

Just before first light I heard a noise behind me and I turned to find head torches in my face, I nearly screamed. To put it into perspective, there is no one, nothing, not a sole on this moor and it was still dark. The two head torches turned out to be Russ and Paul who had had a sleep at Tan Hill Inn. I had to apologise to Brian, he was not seeing things after all. They jogged past as if they were on a Sunday morning run, although round the corner we saw the head torches slow to a walk. As they passed they said that Jenn had slept at the Inn as well and was going to leave when it got light. I went into a complete head turmoil. Jenn is an amazing athlete having won many races in the past and I knew within the race she was fierce competition. Was I in this race to compete or complete? Brian then started a speech that would be repeated on several occasions during the course of the day. ‘look you are leading lady, I won’t be offended if you took off’. My legs were feeling good and I had had thoughts of going faster. However there was also a part of me that was saying keep with Brian, you are having fun and he is ensuring you pace yourself. This torture was going on in my head for the whole day, not helped by Brian re-iterating his words of wisdom. It was even harder for my head to make a decision, as my legs were feeling so good. In the end I snapped at Brian and told him to stop going on about it but that if I ever saw her on the horizon, then I would be off. It did not stop me however from asking Brian on every stretch of downhill ‘shall we run a bit?’ NO would be the reply. ‘just slowly?’ I would softly murmur. NO came a bit louder. Our little arguments would later make me chuckle. One particular one in the day came just as we reached Grassholme reservoir where Brian sat down to sort his shoe up. It was a bit of a jest but I questioned how much faffing he would do today as we really had wasted a lot of time. He replied asking me if I would care if he had glass in his shoe. Not really I responded, as long as you kept walking! It was not heated in any way. For the sake of ‘argument’ I shall call it friendly banter.

 

Today had been the hardest mentally. It was a nice sunny day but the view was bleak. Bog, bog and more bog. A few farm houses and more bog.  We did have spells where we would get carried away in conversation and this seemed to eat up the miles. However on 2 occasions engrossed in discussion, we went off track. We did not get lost but we certainly were not on the Pennine way. Both times it was the lack of Russ and Paul’s footprints in the snow that gave it away. However the acknowledgement of the lack of footprints would come about one mile after we had been walking in the wrong direction. We would look on the map and work out where we were and then make a plan to get back to the Pennine Way.   On the first occasion, we had to descend a slope, cross a river and go up the other side. A ford crossed the river not far from us, so I thought it would be easy. I set the path and Brian followed me down to the river. Upon reaching the river, there was no ford. The river was raging from all the rainfall and about 5m wide. There was however some nice bit slabs conveniently located to allow us to get across. They were acting as a barrier before the water turned into a waterfall. There was also however small spaces between the slabs which involved a small jump. No problems in the summer but with the snow and ice it was a bit hairy. The last slap was about 1m away, I froze. It was on top of a drop with the raging water beneath me and my brain and legs got stuck. Brian sensible as ever, took the decision to go through the water to be safe. Although we had wet feet, we had made it across. So then it was back up the slope, crossing a wall and we were back on track.

 

Crossing a wall is a funny thing. Firstly you have your pack and poles which inevitably get stuck on something. Then you have your legs which have become less flexible as the week progresses, ensuring that your traverse over the wall is not an elegant one. There is always a certain amount of barbed wire that will get snagged on clothing or bag or both, leaving you trapped. Lastly there is a feeling of unease. By climbing over a wall you are trespassing on land and there is always a fear of being seen. However all the land around us is bog, there are no houses and the footpath is identical terrain to the land we are theoretically trespassing on. Most of the time however, the thought of crossing a wall did not bother us.

 

The second mistake, this time we were deep in conversation about our dogs. We continued along a track rather than the footpath. I had spent many nights reading the guidebook and making notes on my map with reference to difficult navigation spots. I had made a note of this exact location ‘stay close to a big wall for a few miles, you can’t go wrong’.   I looked up and spotted the wall at least 1 mile away heading north. We were currently heading west. No worries, all we had to do was go NE and we would hit the wall. This however meant going through dense bog. Upon reaching the wall, we both said ‘no more chatting!’

 

The day continued, I was still thinking about Jenn and torturing myself further with my competitive nature. We eventually came in sight of Middleton on Tees. The sun was shining, the sky was blue and there was a gentle slope down to the village with a few inches of snow covering the ground. I was ready to start running down ‘wooping’ with delight. Although Brian felt the same sudden urge, his legs said NO. With a compromise of a semi jog we reached the road into the village. In the centre of the village there was a burger van which Brian salivated over and to which I said NO! We had to walk through the village to get to CP3 but we managed to find it and got there about 2.30pm. The system of food, feet, clothes, bags and sleep was repeated.

 

Check points were the most amazing places, a hive of activity and comfort to the body and mind. There is the prospect of rest, food and warmth, as well as the contact with the support crew and the world in general. The support crew were amazing and I can’t thank them enough for giving up their precious week to look after us so well. The race has a family feel that I hope does not get lost in years to come. The cooking was superb, catering for my fussy needs and supplying me with tea when needed. Jenny, Richard’s wife and Jenn’s parents were also always present and willing to help every athlete, not just Richard and Jenn. It really is a testament to what the Spine Race is all about. The worry on their faces would also re-enforce the emotions that my family and friends must have to go through when I do these events. I am sure it is harder sometimes to support rather than compete. It was also where the PhD student would pop up and we would be weighed and measured.   He was analysing what happens to your body at an endurance event and although testing was mostly on the boys, I would be very interested to hear the results.

 

We opted for 2.5 hours sleep and so were up at 6pm. We were sat eating, whilst Scott was there making calls to people behind us. It was sad to know that 4 people had dropped out especially Andrew Hayes who I had thought was a tough cookie. I think the hard slog through the bog and moors must have got to them. Brian was full of beans though telling me what we had to look forwards to on the next leg. He also had his own demons to kill having called it a day at High cup Nick last year. In his words, he went mad. He described a feeling of loneliness and fear that if something went wrong, no one would know. It puts the race into perspective and highlights the mental demands, not just the physical ones. Today he explained we had waterfalls in the valley, cauldron snout, high Cup Nick and finally the climb to cross fell and Gregs Hut. Cross fell last year was climbed in zero visibility and high winds. Our aim was to reach cross fell in daylight. Brian’s enthusiasm was infectious and I could not wait to get going. His high spirits had been increased by him turning his phone on for the first time and receiving many texts of support. He had also received a text from his friend Rob who was driving up and planned to meet us at Dufton. What an incentive to keep going.   As well as this Jenn was hot on my heels, I was still torturing myself with the racing mentality.

 

CP3-CP4: Cliff adventures on the coldest night of the year

Just before leaving we were advised that we had to climb up early on Cauldron Snout. Cauldron Snoutis awaterfallon the upper reaches of theRiver Tees, immediately below the dam of theCow Green Reservoir. The Pennine way path makes its way up the side of the waterfall but due to the ice and snow making it very dangerous on the path we were advised to climb up a little earlier. We were also told that it was going to be the coldest night of the year so far. This sent shivers down me straight away. I am no good in the cold in fact I tend to wear about 4 layers when I am inside. I was just going to have to wear as much as I could and keep moving. I proceeded to put on 4 base layers, a fleece top, a body warmer and my jacket. A balaclava, hat and jacket hood keeping my head warm. We left at around 7pm to face the night ahead. Without having really discussed it, we would refer to the next leg as ‘tomorrow morning’.   So this ‘morning’ we would be leaving at 7pm. Psycholocially I think this gives you a big boost, I think it tricks your body into thinking it has had more sleep. Before each leg I would have tea and toast as if I was starting a new day. It seemed to work for me as I would forget the last leg and concentrate on the next one. However as we went back through the village and past the burger van, I became confused as to why it was still there until I remembered it was only 7pm.

 

The first hour we wasted trying to find the path. This was the second time we had failed to find the path straight after a CP. It must be something to do with the brain not being fully engaged with the task ahead. After some wandering around, we were back on track and really powering along more to keep warm than anything else. It was cold but magical at the same time. Our bags were covered in ice if was that cold. The air was sparkling as if someone had thrown a pot of glitter into the air and made it shimmer. We passed the two waterfalls in the valley Low force and High force, hearing the roar to our right hand side. Apparently they are quite spectacular. If it is anything like the sound, I can’t wait to come back in the light. I stopped to put on two more layers and activate my hand warmers. The hand warmers emit a low level heat for 8 hours and also gave me something to play with as I walked along. I was now wearing 9 layers and still cold. We motored on. Every time Brain needed to stop to sort something out, go to the toilet or I was waiting to get over a style I had to keep moving. I would do star jumps, punches or run on the spot, the theme tune of rocky blaring in my head. Physically not tired and mentally focussed on keeping warm. Brain’s camelback tube had frozen and he was not getting any water. I had shoved my bottles down the front of my top, a bit uncomfortable but at least I had water. Using an old skiing trick I manoeuvred his camelback tube under his jacket and up through to his collar, problem solved. We continued walking and I suddenly started to get tired and go into a dream like state, the glitter becoming a bit swirly, my head lolling side to side as I tried to walk with my eyes half shut. Wake up, wake up I shouted to myself. As a last resort I asked Brian for a pro plus and started to sing, first in my head and then out loud. Singing into my balaclava for all I was worth. I think Brian was doing the same. For some reason I could not remember the words to any recent songs. Only two musicals stood out ‘starlight express’ and ‘les mis’ both of which I knew word for word as a child. Later I asked him what he was singing and he said old Irish songs. This must be something to do with sleep deprivation and the brain and the inability to remember short term facts, reverting back to old memories.

 

With all the singing we were making good progress, as we approached a building in the distance. The landscape is bleak, there are not many building along the Pennine way, so it is always nice to come across civilisation. However this building was a bit odd. This building was brightly lit, not your average garden lights but industrial size lights beaming up to the sky. As we got closer 8 people with hoodies started to walk down the track towards us. It was around midnight and we were miles from anywhere. I started to feel nervous and tried to hide behind Brian. They stopped in front of us and asked us what we were doing. We replied that we were walkers in a race and wanted to know where the Pennine way went. One the girls responded and told us it was towards the house and off to the left.   All 8 of them then turned round and headed back to the house with Brian and myself following behind. It was a very bizarre event but on reflection they were probably as nervous as we were. Who would be walking the Pennine Way at midnight on such a cold night? It was onto a walk by the river. The river seemed to make the air that little bit colder and I can only describe the atmosphere like dementors trying to suck any warmth you have remaining out of you. The temperature had dropped significantly and there was a hazy cold mist with the glitter still swirling around. Brian said it was the coldest he had ever been.

 

We were reaching Cauldron Snout and all we could think about was Stu (support crew) telling us to make our way up early to avoid the icy path. At the first sign of rocks, without checking the map we started to climb. I think the decision was made as we just wanted to get away from the dementor filled river rather than through any thought process. We certainly did not even discuss looking at the map. It was a scamble/climb up the snow covered rocks. On and on it went. I was quite happy though as I was feeling warm again. My only issue was my poles, which kept getting in the way. I managed to stick them under my straps and although sticking out at an awkward angle, it allowed me two hands to climb with. Elbows, knees, hands and feet the climbing just went on and on. Once at the top we could see nothing but more and more rocks. Taking a GPS reference and looking at the map we realised we had climbed 2 km early. Ok no harm done. I took a compass bearing to the road by the dam and we would just contour round. However the terrain was tough, involving slabs of rock and bracken which then had a covering of snow. It was pot luck whether you hit firm ground, your foot twisted in bracken or if your foot ended up between some rocks. I went down to my thigh on several occasions but thankfully had no injury. We had been travelling along this bearing for a long time, losing my map in the process. I think it must have fallen on one of my slips. I did try and re-trace my steps but it was hopeless. I then started to lose faith in my compass bearing. We kept checking the GPS against Brian’s map becoming more and more despondent that we were not going very far. Due to the darkness, there is nothing to focus on in the distance which makes it mentally tough. I kept doubting my navigation skills. No worries, says Brian we can go off the GPS.   It was my turn to follow Brian and we sent off using his GPS. What I failed to realise was that Brian was leading us back to the path rather than the road. What Brian failed to realise was that there was a cliff between us and the path.

 

We started descending. Under normal circumstances I would have twigged what was happening, however these were not normal circumstances. I am not sure how I ended up in front of Brian as I was meant to be following him, but I did. As we contoured round a particularly steep bit, I looked down to find the next step and found a void instead. To this day I have no idea how we got ourselves in this mess. I was standing on a snowy ledge ½ metre wide with about 20 metres of cliff below me. To say I was petrified was an understatement. I shouted to Brian that we couldn’t go on and then I started to panick backing myself into the rocks and clinging on for dear life, my breathing becoming increasingly laboured. I was starting to lose it big time. I have no problems with heights under normal circumstances. I think the culmination of dark, cold and the high intensity scrambling had taken its toll. Brian was great, cool, calm and collected. We will just go back up he said, follow me. Right I thought. I am loosing it. What shall I do? We either stay here till light or I can get a grip and sort myself out. So clinging to some bracken, I ate some Jaffa cakes, had a word with myself and started climbing up. On reaching the top this time, the most amazing sight reached our eyes. The lights of the dam were visible in the distance. That was the morale boast I needed, I was off and very soon we had reached the road. I think if we had stuck with my bearing for another 100metres we would have seen the lights. If it had been daylight we would have known where to go. I began to realise night navigation when tired was not easy. Once at the road we did a body and mind inspection. No injuries and mentally ok. We had both collected snow on our shoes, mine feeling like I had 3 inch heels on. Having sorted ourselves out, we walked to the dam and onto the Pennine way. I am not sure how much time we wasted, we did not care. I think it was here that my mindset changed. This was not really a race at all but an adventure to embrace.

 

We made good progress for the next few hours, reaching High Cup Nick without further event. High cup is a vast 'hole' in the moorside, similar in form to an elongated crater. In the dark it looked eeriebut I gather by daylight fantastic. This was a milestone for Brian, the point at which last year he went mad. We were both in good spirits and very much looking forwards to a nice warm car in Dufton. The descent was icy under foot. We had both fallen in ice a few times, Brian falling onto his roll mat and my bum cushioning my falls. It was approaching 5am and Brian’s witching hour. He was having a low and was convinced we were on the wrong track and that we should have taken the more scenic route. I did remind him that it was dark and that we could not see anything anyway. We then walked in silence. I needed to stop for a wee break so told Brian I would catch him up. As I was jogging down to meet him, I slipped on some ice and in slow motion fell sideways rather than back, straight onto my left elbow. I lay there for a while tears streaming down my face and pins and needles in my little finger. I had bashed my funny bony and irritated one of my nerves. ‘shit’. Nothing else hurt and I knew that I just had to move my elbow and it would be fine. Brian’s head torch by now was out of sight, so gingerly I got up and started to walk. On reflection I don’t think my elbow was that bad, the tears were more of tiredness and the culmination of one hell of a night time adventure. Once I was moving it did not feel too bad, although the left pole was a struggle to use.

 

I caught up with Brian just before Dufton and by this point I had pulled myself together and he was none the wiser about my tears. The anticipation was rising as we searched for Rob’s car. What type is it? I enquired. It has a small square front was all Brian could remember. As we walked along the main street we saw someone get out a small squared fronted car. It was Rob he had been sitting in his car since 11pm waiting for us. I could not have been happier to meet a stranger and dived into the back seat, Brian and Rob in the front with the heaters on full blast. Rob has done some ultras and Ironman’s and outdoor stuff and was amazing, knowing exactly what we needed. We had sweet tea and porridge and somewhere warm, my elbow was soon forgotten. Brian then had verbal diarrhoea recounting tales of the past few days. I am sure Rob had no idea what Brian was talking about, as I could hardly keep up. He was so excited that he kept jumping from story to story. Rob listened patiently. After asking if it was ok to have a snooze, mid sentence Brian fell asleep. I asked Rob to wake us in 30 mins and I followed suit. I woke up 25 minutes later with dribble all over my face following the best 25 minutes sleep I have ever had. It was now first light and we were both re-energised.

 

 

John Bambers sunrise from Greg’s Hut

 

 

The dawning day was sunny and bright and Rob accompanied us up to Cross fell. After a bit of Brian faffing we were off. What a gorgeous day. A lovely climb to Great Dun Fell followed by Little Dun Fell then finally Cross Fell. Cross Fell is 893m above sea level and the highest point along the Pennine way. Rob and Brian were chatting away and I left them to it. I think Brian was happy to have male company and I was starting to get abdominal cramps. I did however also keep seeing people in the distance, something that had been happening on and off for the past few days. It would look like a man sat fishing or someone sat on a bench. It would always turn out to be a black rock. Brian could see these figures too, so I asked Rob if he could see them. No, he said, I can just see that it is a rock. Although we were in high spirits, we must have still been very tired. I kept up the pace though and we were soon at the top of Cross Fell. We huddled into a small sheltered area for some food, which I forced myself to eat and then said goodbye to Rob.

 

 

We used the GPS to navigate down to Greg’s hut. Greg’s hut is a bothy or "a one-roomed hut in which labourers are lodged". It has two rooms, a wood burning stove and a wooden sleeping platform. It was tucked away and looked very small amongst the featureless snow and hills. It was once used by lead miners who would stay here all year. What a desolate life they used to lead.

 

 

As we were coming down towards the hut, Paul and Mist the collie dog came to meet us and followed us in. What a warm welcome we received. John Bamber and the two medics gave us tea and noodles. All four and Mist had slept in the hut overnight. Both Brian and I were still feeling good and only stayed 30 minutes or so and we were off again.

 

 

 

 

A long track would lead us down to Garrigill. We were both happy. Brian had his radio on and I was lost in thought. I don’t really know what I think about for hours on end. On my training runs over the past year I have been mostly writing my masters dissertation in my head, which I would write up once I got home. But during this race, my mind was so focussed on the task ahead that I did not think about ‘normal’ life very much. I would spend time thinking about how amazing the support crew were, how experienced they were and how talented other athletes were. The miles would slowly slip away. The snow started to disappear this side of the valley and the going was easy but the track quite hard under foot.

 

On reaching Garrigill, we knew we had about 5 miles to Alston and the next CP. My wheels then started to fall off and fall off fast. The road had made my feet very sore. They were not painful as such but throbbing badly. Each step was an effort. The path to Alston was along a river and due to the frozen conditions over agricultural land, this made the terrain very hard and uneven. It was a real struggle. My legs were feeling like bambi on ice. What is going on? Shortly after I started to feel myself weakening, we went off track and I started to mentally shut down. I stopped and thought about why I was feeling like this and realised that I had not been eating in my normal routine. My abdominal pain, which had since gone, coupled with the noodles and porridge had meant that I had not eaten much of my snack bag. I had let my focus waver and in this event that is suicidal. I was so cross with myself. So as Brian figured out where the track was, I sat on the grassy bank and ate my days worth of treats. This included jaffa cakes, sweets, nuts and crisps. It probably amounted to 2000 calories in the space of 5 minutes. Feeling the energy starting to return, the scare was over. That will not happen again, I told myself. We eventually reached Alston as darkness had fallen. It was a bit later than planned, but safe and well. I mention planned in the loosest sense as Brian and I did not really have any plan. We just went with the flow and made decisions as needed. Neither of us had a watch and I think on reflection this was a very good thing. This meant that between CP’s we just got on with it.   I don’t think we could have ‘planned’ this better. Not only were we not fixated by getting somewhere by a fixed time but it also meant we were not worried by our speed.

 

We were met at Alston with warm embraces by Scott and Phil. Phil was on his way out to meet Eugeni. Eugeni was the race leader. He is an exceptionally good runner, coming 10 at an extreme ultra in the Alps and a world wide event.

 

He had already left CP5 and was starting to make his way to the finish. What a guy. Scott told me I had a wild look about me. I think that may have been a euphemism for shattered! We entered to find a throng of people including Jenn. I did not really register that she was there, having forgotten the whole race aspect of this adventure. She certainly looked very ‘wild’. She told me that Cross Fell had got the better of her and that she was wearing 15 layers as she was still feeling cold. She was exhausted having not eaten regularly or slept enough. No one wants to see someone else looking that unwell or crest fallen and I was gutted for her. However my shoulders also relaxed. I could now just enjoy the adventure without the constant pressure of Brian telling me I was in the lead. Jenn and I talked about the previous night. She told me that the magic glitter in the air had turned into a nightmare of swirling crystals plunging into dark holes. It is crazy what happens to the mind when you get tired. I forced some pasta down me. Having eaten my snack bag 30 minutes before hand, this was a struggle but I knew it had to be done.  This checkpoint had beds and duvets, pure luxury. However once I had removed my shoes, I discovered two swollen feet. No wonder they were throbbing. I made sure that I tried to keep them elevated at all times when in the CP. We opted for 3.5 hours sleep and to leave by midnight.

 

CP4-CP5: Hadrian’s wall and then losing the plot

Before leaving we were warned about the treacherous bog after Hadrian’s wall that could be waste deep at times. I also asked to borrow a coat. I was worried that I had been wearing 9 layers on the previous night and still feeling cold. I realised that as I became more fatigued then the feeling of cold would get worse. I had had my eye on one of the green dare2b spine jackets that the support crew were wearing. However I was presented with one of Scott’s own jackets. When I heard where it had been, I was in awe and overwhelmed by his generosity. I dutifully put it on and we set off into the night. Within 20 minutes I was sweating and we had to stop to take it off. I then became paranoid about loosing this sacred jacket. It was too big to go in my bag, so I strapped it to the top. For the next 20 minutes I would ask Brian repeatedly if it was still there. He never got cross with my persisting anxiety but would answer with a simple yes each time.

 

The going out of Alston is tough. The map highlights the Pennine Way as an invisible path. It was more or less fields of bog and more bog. With the cover of darkness progress was slow. To add to this, Brian and I would continually drop things.   Over the next 12 hours this must have happened at least a dozen times. The problem comes when you need to eat or in fact do anything other than walk. You have inner gloves, outer mits, walking poles and map to keep hold of. To eat you have to hang your pole straps over your wrists, take off your mits, store the map and then eat. Once finished the mits can go back on and the poles back into place. By the time this has been completed you may have walked 200 metres.   At this point you would realise you have dropped map, gloves or poles. It started to become a bit of a joke. I had already lost one map by Cauldron Snout, I was trying my best not to loose the other.

 

Navigation was continually hard through the night, coupled with the fact we both later admitted that we were in a kind of trance and sleep walking. Brian may have had his 5-7am low but to be honest I was probably sleep walking at the time and did not notice it. Things always improve when daylight arrives. However today at first light, we reached an expanse of marsh land and bog extending as far as the eye could see. It was here that I lost Brian’s map. He was not cross or angry, I am not sure I would have been so unforgiving. I was angry at myself for being so careless. Two maps down and therefore we had to rely on the GPS to get us to Greenhead where we could use the last and final map. We trudged on, wet feet and bored of bog. We were still chatting, so at least morale had not hit rock bottom. We reached Greenhead after what seemed like longer than it should have been. We had the option of going to a youth hostel for tea, but we both opted to press on.   I was keen for a change of scenery and excited to see Hadrian’s wall.

 

I have been to Hadrian’s wall before and remembered this section well. Today it did not disappoint. A sprinkling of snow made the wall look majestic. Brian was in awe straight away and both of us were in good spirits. We cracked on, up and down, up and down. We stopped at some public toilets and Brian popped in. I sat down outside and waited, waited and then waited some more. I started to get cold and wonder where he had got to. Just as I was about to investigate he emerged, as it was so warm in the toilets he had fallen asleep! After a few jests we carried on and I upped the pace to warm up again. We were both loving the variation in terrain compared to the bog we had encountered this morning.

 

 

 

We both thought we were quite close to Bellingham but upon closer inspection of the map, we realised that we still had a long way to go. I was a bit downcast but physically feeling ok. We reached the turning off away from the wall and started to head north again. The next stage was the bog that we had been warned about. The bog itself was fairly frozen and by being careful we managed to avoid the worst of it. We were making good progress across the bleak plains and entered some woods. The big conifer trees covered in snow were magical. It felt like we were in the Alps, not the North of England. We were both feeling quite positive until we reached a very rutted road that was frozen. Progress became painfully slow and then twilight came.

 

This is my worst time of day, where I become tired and downhearted and today I was at my worst. The next bit took a long time and it was at this point I started to hallucinate again, seeing faces in the snow that Brian had been telling me about. Smiley faces, angry faces and elephants would all jump out at me. Physically I was not too bad but mentally I was exhausted. We then lost the path when we were only 2 miles from Bellingham. I saw a mast in the distance and located it on my map. We headed towards it. On the map, once you reached the mast you had to turn right and head NE. Without thinking I turned right and stomped off. I did not even question if I was heading north, south, west or east. Brian followed we were both as tired as each other. After a time, Brian had located us on his GPS and told me that we had headed completely in the wrong direction. So Brian got us facing the right way and traipsing through bog and snow, we got back on the invisible path and finally on to the road to Bellingham. We entered Bellingham at 8pm, much later than expected. Physically ok, mentally not so good. We were met by Stu who guided us into the bunkhouse. I remember 6 or so support crew sitting around a small table and they were all staring at us. I could not think why and I was too tired to care. I later found out that they were staring at us as we looked so awful. We had food and then I collapsed in a bed. We planned to leave at 2.30pm, one final push to the finish. However Stu came in and said that the weather was closing in tomorrow and the team had decided that we should form a larger group with 4 others who were behind us. We therefore had to wait 3 hours until they arrived. I would normally have been upset as we were ahead of the next group by over 3 hours and were being made to hold back. However I felt nothing, nothing at all. My competitiveness had gone, this was not a race. It was about surviving and getting to the finish. I fell asleep without any further thought. It did however mean we had 2 more hours of sleep and we were up at 4am. Gareth was still awake at the bunkhouse. Brian and I had not had our measurements done when we arrived the night before and I asked him why he had not bothered. He gave me a look and said simply ‘you guys did not look too good’. Great I thought, just what I want to hear.

looki

 

 

 

 

Looking ‘wild’

 

CP5-Kirk Yetholm: One last adventure before the finish

We had to set off by 5am to ensure we beat the weather. We had been grouped with Ian, who I had briefly been with on day 1 and 3 Germans, Micheal, Thomas and Jin. Everyone but me was far from ready and I was silently going mad, as everyone faffed around. Eventually 5.30am came and went and we were all good to go. We make brilliant progress out of Bellingham. Michael was doing all the navigation by GPS. At this point all I was very grateful, Brian and my navigation would have had us wandering around these fields for hours. After 1hr 30 minutes, we reached the last road of the day and Michael stopped. We all stopped. He turned to us and said ‘hey guys I am finished, I am going back to Bellingham’. I could not believe it, he had been pushing the pace and now he was quitting. Brian and I half heartedly tried to persuade Michael to continue, after all we had only met him a few hours before. As Thomas and Jin did not seem too bothered and quite happy that he was stopping, we did not really pursue the matter. It all happened quite quickly but within minutes Michael had flagged down a farmer’s truck, persuaded him to turn around and then take him back to Bellingham. It was definitely a strange moment. Brian and I later reflected on what would have happened if either of us would have voiced that we were quitting at this stage. We both agreed that we would have done everything we could to keep the person going. I also talked to Michael after the event to question him further on his decision. He said that he had been feeling shivery and had increased his pace to get warm. He had then panicked that he was not getting warm and thinking of the Cheviots, chose to retire.

Thomas, Jin and Michael

After Michael retired, we had a decision over navigation. Brian stepped up to the mark. Silently I was a bit worried. Please don’t mess up like you have done all week I thought. He however did brilliantly and over the last 30 minutes of darkness led the team successfully over the snowy covered moors. Why could you have not done that over the past week, I jested afterwards. He just laughed at me. The next bit was in Kielder forest where there was a lot of felling being carried out. There were a few large lorries that were going rather fast along the main track but apart from this it was easy going. We got to Bryness quicker that I had expected. Brian remarked how well we were all doing and that we had not had any big adventure. Hmm I thought, I sure there is still plenty of time for adventures. Bryness was the last bit of civilisation before the Cheviots and the finish. We were met by Phil and the crew and after a quick stop we were off again, only 26miles to the finish. Phil gave me a hug and said that I was going to be the 1^st lady finisher. I told him to shut up. Thankfully Brian had stopped re-iterating this fact after my grump at CP3. I was still not thinking of the finish but it was starting to look more promising. I was aware that a lot can happen in 26 miles but I told Phil that I would definitely see him at the finish.

 

So now it was a steep climb up to the Cheviots, I loved it. The steeper the better for me, my legs just seem to love climbing. The view at the top was spectacular, snow covered peaks, a bright blue sky and a slight tail wind. Thomas, Jin and Ian where pushing the pace, whereas Brian was keeping to our usual pace. I was in the middle and every so often I would turn to make sure he was not out of sight. I was singing loudly to myself and generally enjoying the conditions and terrain. On occasions a foot would break through the snow into bog beneath. By generally being careful, this was easy to avoid. I did think or Mark Caldwell falling in the river on last year’s event. Being in this environment by himself and in the dark must have been tough. He survived by getting to a mountain refuge hut to dry off. There are two mountain refuge huts on the cheviots. These are located 10km apart and look a bit like a shed. They are 6 ft by 4ft and have a small bench but no other facilities inside. They are meant for temporary shelter from the wind. Just before we reached the first mountain refuge hut by Lambs Hill, the wind started to pick up and I started to feel chilly. We all decided to have a stop and a refuel inside the hut and to put on more clothes. I put on Scott’s sacred jacket and had some food, ready to fight the weather. We left the hut just after 2.30pm and during the 20 minute break, the gentle breeze had become a strong wind. We got our head torches out so they were ready for later and decided that we would not stop until we reached the next hut. We all thought this would take a couple of hours, how wrong could we be.

 

 

We started, initially making good progress. The coat coupled with some hand warmers, was keeping me nice and warm. Brian kept dropping off the back and as it was getting dark, he was getting harder to see. As we stopped and waited for him to catch up, he asked me for his GPS which I had been holding and said that he would be fine if we wanted to go on. NO I said. We had been grouped together for a reason. The weather was getting worse and we were sticking together. Sticking together was made easier, as the pace got slower and slower due to the worsening weather. It was by now dark and the blizzard was erupting into a monster. We passed Windy Gyle, which is the border into Scotland without me really realising it. I have been on windy mountains before and had some scary experiences, but nothing compares to this. The wind was blowing into our faces but hitting us slightly to the right hand side. You had to keep your head low and slightly turned to avoid getting blasted with icy snow. I made the mistake of looking up once, to be hit with a gush of snow into my right eye.  It was like razor blades slicing in and I had to maintain my eye shut for some time. I could not rub it, as with snow mits on, this just made it worse. I just had to get on with it, as stopping was unthinkable. It did eventually open up and no lasting damage was done.

 

At this point we were in a single line. Thomas had the GPS and I can’t describe how amazing he was. He is tall and very strong and was making in roads into the snow, keeping us on the right track. We had reached a fence. We have to follow this up to the top he shouted. The snow was getting worse by the minute and the wind unbelievable. If I was not knee deep in snow, I would have struggled to remain standing. The poles were a bit useless as they kept getting stuck but I kept them for balance. Everyone was falling over continuously. This was because the snow in places was more compacted than in others. It was pot luck whether you went shin deep or thigh deep, as you put your foot down. If you went thigh deep into the snow, it would result in an energy sapping scramble to get back up. By this point visibility was pretty poor. I did not want to look up and get another blast into the eye, so the most you could see was the persons’ feet in front. In fact if you did look up, there was not much to see apart from blizzard and the posts to our right. We could not really communicate to each other, as the wind was so strong. We silently continued. We were trying to change the person at the front to conserve energy. Thomas however did a lot of the hard work and I am extremely grateful to him for this. On one occasion when I was leading, we reached a large snow drift. There was a 7ft wave of snow banking up towards the posts to our right. Following this, there was a drop and then another bank of snow. I stood in awe of what nature could create, took a moments hesitation and as there was no going round this snow drift, slid down and hoped for the best. I ended up waste deep in snow and unable to move. Ian tried to haul me out by the handle on my pack. Stop, I growled. I managed to haul myself out, using one of the posts as leverage. The clamber up the other bank was even harder, using hands knees and elbows.

 

It was then back to the single file march, repeating the same process over and over again. One foot in front of the other was all I could think about. In my mind, I had no doubt that we would not stop until we got to the hut. Although no one said it, I am sure that we were all aware of what would happen if we did not get to the hut. It was however getting mentally tough. Physically I did not feel tired or cold but I was starting to question if we were on the right track. Everything seemed the same and we did not seem to be making much progress. It felt like we were contouring the hill, nothing seemed to change.   The posts went on and on. My only comfort was the knowledge that the wind was still blowing into the right side of my face, so unless the wind had changed direction, we were still heading the right way. We shortly stopped and huddled like penguins, the wind on our backs. I asked if we could check the map. I needed something to focus on rather than the posts and I needed reassuring as to our location and distance from the hut. Ian, who also prefers the use of maps rather than GPS, readily agreed. It was a struggle however to get the map out. The map was flapping about uncontrollably and we were at risk of losing it. Ian put it on the floor and I knelt on it. We all crowded round. Thomas read out the grid reference from the GPS and we looked for our position. We were about 1.5km from a hairpin bend. The bend was at the top of this climb and after this the wind would be on our backs. It gave me hope.

 

So I started to count my steps. I thought it would keep me focussed. One of my steps is normally 0.75 metres. It took me a long time to do the maths in my head but I was doing it as we walked and it was keeping me busy so I was not fussed. I eventually worked out that it would be 2000 steps. However I then decided as the snow was so bad, I would double this figure. By this stage we had probably been going about 15 minutes but I did not let that worry me or feel that it was pointless to start counting from now. I needed something to focus on. 4000 steps that is all I had to focus on, I thought positively. So I counted, then I would fall and lose count. Then I would get cross and start again. After several attempts I gave up and that's when I started sobbing quietly into my balaclava, not that anyone would have heard me anyway. I am not sure why I started crying. It was not to do with my counting but possibly that was the final straw. The nightmare was never ending and progress seemed so slow. I was starting to feel myself sinking low and told myself to snap out of it. My mind then had strong words with myself and said that there is no point in crying, you are wasting precious energy. This seemed to work and I began to focus again on reaching the top.

 

Suddenly we hit firm ground. Wooden planks, submerged by a thin covering of snow, we were nearing the top. We were able to walk freely and were soon at the cairn to mark the summit. We were also close to the hairpin bend and close to having the wind on our backs. My spirits rose. However we had to make a decision as to where we would navigate away from the cairn. Ian wanted to take a compass bearing and Thomas was trying to figure out what the GPS said. We were in the most exposed position we had been in all night with the wind gusting at us, making it a struggle to stand up. We were standing still and I was starting to lose it again. I had an idea of where we should be heading having read the guidebook and remembered some details but was getting so cold I could not communicate very well. I knew Ian and Thomas were discussing amongst themselves and so I decided to wait for them to decide rather than join in. Keeping the group in my sight, I went and curled up in a ball out of the wind at the bottom of the cairn and waited. I watched the guys and waited for a decision. It was at this point that Thomas came towards me and fell on an exposed rock, ripping his trousers open just below the knee. He did not get up. I shouted but it was lost in the wind. Eventually he got up. There was not much we could do. The area was so exposed that as long as he could walk, he had to get on with it. The GPS was now working and Thomas knew where to go and we all agreed to go with the GPS rather than the compass bearing. A few minutes went by and we went slap bang into some planks, we had found the route again. I can’t describe the horror of those moments by the cairn in enough vivid detail. Thomas’ fall went in slow motion, the wind was intense and the cold unbearable. That feeling of knowing you are close but not knowing where the route is was petrifying. Another 5 minutes stood still and we could all have succumbed to hypothermia. We didn’t however and we were back on the route.

 

We were at the bend and the wind was now on our backs. We started to make progress up until the planks stopped and it was back to the deep snow. However we were now descending and with the wind on our backs, although we were still falling, we were making progress. I was now concerned that we would miss the hut. Due to the visibility we might miss it. If the hut was slightly away from the GPS route, we could go straight by it. We can’t miss this hut, I thought to myself. On Ian’s OS map, the mountain hut was written across a wide area, with no specific marker. On my Harvey map, there was a specific dot to mark the hut. I called to Thomas to check the grid reference. We were so close and making good progress. My heart started to lift. Then we saw it, a dark object looming out of the blizzard. I can’t begin to describe the relief at seeing the hut. I knew we would be safe. Even if we were cold now, I knew the sleeping bags, stoves and the warmth of other bodies would keep us all going. We were there and we had all made it. I thought the nightmare was over.

The mountain hut that saved our lives.

 

We entered and sat down, relief showing on everyone’s faces. However the danger was not over yet. Thomas started to go into shock. Adrenalin had been keeping him going up until now. ‘I feel sick, I feel dizzy’ he said. Brian leapt to the rescue and me and him removed his shoes and wet trousers. We looked at his knee. There was a deep gash just below the knee cap, 2 inches long and already gaping. It was clean but needed stitches. The best we could do was apply a bandage. Brain and I did the best we could and then got him into his sleeping bag. Ian meanwhile was on stove duty. We grouped our food together and cooked what we could. It was 10.30pm and it had taken us 7 hours to do 10km. I was finally able to do a wee, my first one for over 7 hours, it was amazing. Brain and Ian were like dad, bossing us to eat and drink and stay warm. They were brilliant. Brian was getting snow to melt and Ian was on stove duty and I felt a bit useless. There was not much space in the hut and with 2 people fussing around, so I did something that does not come easy to me. I sat still. The two boys were amazing I kept telling them to sort themselves out as well otherwise they would get cold. They were so intent on making sure everyone else was ok, I was worried they were not looking after themselves. I knew we had been grouped together for a reason and had to keep monitoring each other closely otherwise we would not make it off this mountain.

 

After food we bedded down for the night. There was no question of continuing into the night that would have been suicidal. We had rung HQ to advise them of our plan and to tell them that we were safe. We were also worried about the 3 guys behind us. We were worried as we realised that they would have had less sleep and possibly less energy than us. We just hoped that they got to the hut and asked the team to focus on them, as we were ok. Then it was time to sleep. Ian was on the floor as he had the largest mat. The rest of us were on the benches. Poor Brian got the short straw. Having been the last to settle down, as he was faffing around everyone, there was only a small amount of bench remaining. I would have offered to swap but I was wedged in the corner and not much better off. We all decided that we would sleep till first light and then push on to the end. We did not even think about the need to ring mountain rescue nor did we think that we would stay in the hut and await rescue. We were going to get ourselves off the mountain. We had thought about an escape route down to the nearest road. However I looked at the map and decided that the easiest path was actually the Pennine way. Ian agreed and we therefore made the decision that when we woke up, we were going to aim to finish. I was warm but not comfortable but compared to Brian I was sleeping in the Ritz. I did sleep on and off till first light and on reflection probably had more rest in the hut than throughout the whole of the previous week.

 

We were all ready for action and in high spirits. However before we left, we had to drink. I was on snow duty and Ian was back on the stove, melting water for all of us. Thomas’ knee was obviously sore but he just got on with it, what a guy. It was 7.45am and we laughed that we had 15 mins to finish within the time limit.   I had talked to Phil several days ago about the 8am time limit. At this time he had said that Brian and I had nothing to worry about. He did say that both he and Scott had set the time limit as 8am on Saturday but realised that the weather could be a large factor. They said that if someone got to Kirk Yetholm a few hours over the time limit, then they would still be classed as a finisher. Although we were all still in survival mode, we were also all still in a race. Brian in particular wanted to finish, he was not coming back again next year!

 

The final task before leaving was to get our shoes on. This is normally quite an easy task, however the snow had frozen rock solid, making it impossible to move the laces or change the shape of the shoe. In the end we had to bash our shoes on the benches and then melt the snow off using our stoves. My shoes have not had much wear in them before this race and I joked that I should send them back as they were completely destroyed. The task of getting our shoes on took another 20 minutes but once that was done, we were ready to fight the weather and get to the finish.

 

The hut to Kirk Yetholm: 8km to the finish

 

Just after 8.30 am we left the sanctuary of the hut. At first light I was hopeful that the weather had settled however over the past hour the wind had increased again. The wind however was on our backs and we had better visibility, spirits were high. Thomas again took the lead. He was amazing, not once complaining about his knee and making in roads into the snow like a snow plough. We were actually moving with speed. We knew that we had one more hill to climb, The Schill, before descending into the valley. We swapped leaders and I offered to go in front. Being able to see the top made a massive difference to me and gave me something to focus on. I counted to 4. Poles 1,2,3,4. Poles 1,2, 3, 4. Stepping to the count of my numbers. That is what I focussed on the whole way up, keeping that rhythm and looking ahead. The snow was knee deep in places but I was feeling positive. The top was windy but a short distance below us, we could see the turning off to the left that would take us into the valley and to Kirk Yetholm. I had been dreaming of this turning for nearly 12 hours as I knew once we got to this turning that we would get down safely. However the Cheviots had two last snow drifts to tease us with. They were on the descent slope and I plunged in, using a commando style crawl. Not the most lady like and I heard laughs behind me. Ian said he had joked at the start of the race that he would crawl to the end if needed. He laughed today as that is exactly what we were doing!

 

Once at the left hand turn the going got easier. We were sheltered from the wind and the terrain was making its descent into the valley. The sun was starting to shine and it was hard to believe what we had just been through. It was at this point that I saw two dots far below us. As I had been hallucinating and seeing people all week, which would later turn out to be rocks, I asked the others to look. We stopped. We stared. ‘It’s people, It’s people’ we all shouted. The excitement in the group was palpable. As we got closer, we started to wave but the two figures were not waving back. That’s odd we thought, maybe they are walkers out for a weekend stroll. Who would be out in these conditions, someone rightly commented. Then we spotted the yellow jackets, it was the mountain rescue coming to find us. I was asked several questions. Is your party all accounted for, are you all fit and well. I replied that Thomas had a nasty cut on his knee. Well we have a vehicle 1 km away if he needs support. I did not even ask Thomas, ‘No he is fine’ I said. ‘He will make it to the finish’. I definitely was not letting him stop 3 km from the finish. They said it was 1 km to the road, so we pressed on retracing the mountain rescues footsteps in the snow. Brian then mentioned that all his adrenaline had gone and that he was emotionally and physically exhausted. Oh God, I thought, you can’t lose it now. So we walked together. I was starting to feel the same way, just keep it together I thought to myself. We reached the road and then it was easy, only 2km to the finish.

 

 

In the distance I could see vehicles and people crowded around a farm. What must have happened at the farm, I thought to myself. As we got closer, several people started to run towards us. It was Scott and there were hugs all round. Most of the support crew were also present, as well as another mountain rescue vehicle. I was holding back the tears, trying to thank Scott for his jacket which I knew had saved my life. One of the medics said that there was someone here to see me at the finish. I had thought that my mum or James may have driven up given the conditions and the constant updates on facebook. I was hoping that they had not been too worried. In fact it was my text that said ‘don’t panic, we have had a scary night but are all ok’ which I had sent to my mum and James when we had got to the hut, that prompted James to drive all through the night to get to Kirk Yetholm. They deduced that because I never say anything is scary, conditions must have been horrendous. So a text that was meant to reassure them both actually made them panic more. My emotions were starting to get to me and when I did see James 1 km from the finish, I burst into tears.

 

 

 

 

It was then one last push up a hill and forming a line, we crossed the finish line together. The finish is actually touching the pub wall and we collapsed on the wall, smiles and tears coming at once. Big bear hugs amongst ourselves completed what had been the most epic adventure of a lifetime.

 

 

 

 

Everyone then entered the pub and we had a few hours of chatting and eating. Thomas had his leg stitched on one of the pub tables and just as I was finishing my cup of tea, Russ, Annie and David walked in followed by the mountain rescue. Wow, I was so happy that they were safe. We had all been so worried about them. It was lovely to hear that although they had had a similar experience to us, they had reached the first mountain hut. The mountain rescue had then helped them down this morning. We then had our medals presented and I had a photo with Eugeni. Eugeni’s legs looked horrible. He apparently had ice burns on both shins and was still struggling to walk.

Then it was time to say goodbye. Goodbye to an adventure where memories formed will stay will me forever and goodbye to the support crew where friends were made. Above all, it was goodbye to Brian with whom I would not have finished without his support. I was physically just a bit tired but emotionally drained. It was time to go home for a bath and a sleep.

 

 

 

Reflection

I am very proud of what I have achieved.   I will always be the first lady to complete the Spine race.  However due to my nature I will always reflect on a race, asking myself questions in order to improve for the next adventure.

1.      Could I have gone faster? My legs still had a lot more to give and I therefore think I could have gone faster. However in saying this, I also reflect on those that did not make it. Most of the reasons for dropping out were that people had pushed themselves too far, they had gone off too quick which resulted in exhaustion. This even happened to one guy ahead of us, who blew up on the last day. I am therefore extremely grateful to Brian for holding me back. Although we had no formal plan or strategy, the decisions we made seemed to work for us. Some athletes chose to bivvy or rest between checkpoints, whereas we kept going and had longer rests at the CP themselves. Everyone’s strategy is different and that is what makes the Spine race not just a race about running. As Stu would say ‘it is an expedition and should be treated as such’.

 

2.      Could we have navigated better? Better navigation would have certainly saved time. I would admit that both of us had appalling navigation at times. Fatigue has a lot to do with the decisions we made. My map skills are normally pretty good. However, as I mentioned before, this is not a normal race. Wearing mits and holding poles did not help, as I struggled to hold the map. It is something I would encourage anyone to practise before the race itself.

 

3.      Was my cold a help or a hindrance? As I stated at the beginning, I had a cold. I actually feel this helped me finish. It meant that I started off slower than normal and got stronger as the week progressed. I may have overcooked it on the first day, if I had not been feeling ill.   However I should probably not encourage everyone to get ill before a big race like this!

 

4.      Could we have avoided the weather on the cheviots? Brian and I were asked to wait for 2.5hrs so we could form a larger group. This was a very wise decision given the circumstances we were to face. However when we were in the second hut, I saw that Richard had signed the guest book at 2.37pm. At just after 2.30pm we were leaving the first hut just as the weather was closing in. Richard managed to make it to the finish on Friday night. Brian and I were still feeling strong and likely to have been travelling at the same pace, if not faster than Richard who had started to struggle. If we had left 2.5 hours earlier there may have been a possibility that we could have caught up with Richard and avoided the weather. This I will never know. I am however extremely grateful to Scott, Phil and Stu for making the decision to keep us in a group. Without this, we would not have survived.

 

There was never a point in the week when I thought about quitting and in fact on some stretches, it felt like a Sunday stroll. However at times the adventure was overwhelming and on the last night even life threatening. It was an epic week and one of the best things I have ever done. The race directors have truly created a fabulous event and I hope the family atmosphere does not get lost as the event inevitably grows.

 

Things I did well

1.      Stuck with Brian, who helped me pace the race and did not allow me to get carried away

2.      Look after no.1. eat, drink, feet, clothes and sleep where constantly kept in focus.

3.      Not wear a watch, it meant that I was not focussed on speed

4.      Sleep 6 hours at CP2

5.      Continually think positively

6.      Not think about the end but take each stage as a new challenge

7.      Making my front snack pack, it was so easy to eat regularly.

 

Things that could be improved

1.      Learn to use the map whilst wearing 2 pairs of gloves and holding poles.

2.      Attach map and gloves to body with string to stop things dropping.

3.      Buy better waterproof trousers. My £9.99 value ones did not really have a chance against the Cheviots, resulting in very wet legs for the whole night.

4.      Practise with the GPS.