Written by Michael Jones - https://michaeljamesjones.wordpress.com
Beepbeepbeep, beepbeepBEEP, beepBEEPBEEP, BEEPBEEPBEEP!! 5.48?! shiiiIITT!! I threw back my covers and leapt up in panic, the start was in 12 minutes! I’d set my alarm for 4.30 but didn’t get to bed until after midnight and when I could hear my flatmate talking on the phone through the wall decided to put my new earplugs in, which did their job a bit too well!
I rushed downstairs and threw on my clothes, fortunately I’d packed everything the night before. Ugh no time for coffee but I scoffed a solid breakfast of a banana and a Gu lemon cheesecake pudding which I was hoping to save until after the race, downed a pint of water and bolted out the door, into my car and up the road to the start. Yup I’d missed it by 6 minutes or so but I just had to laugh and get on with it.
Dawn over Ulverston.
I’d known about the Cumbria Way for a long time and it’s always been on my bucket list of long distance challenges. The novelty of a point-to-point race starting in my home town of Ulverston appealed and though it was quite soon after UTMB, I decided to enter anyway.
I caught the back markers swiftly enough and began working my way through the field, stopping to see the sun rise over Morecambe Bay behind the Hoad monument. My legs felt pretty bad after the Langdale half marathon the previous Saturday and doing the Lakeland 200 mtb route over two days a few days before and I was still half asleep so took my time, stopping often to take pictures. 6 minutes would be easy enough to make up over 73 miles!
Sunrise near Gawthwaite. 
Approaching Gawthwaite
I began to catch sight of the leaders over Blawith Common, a beautiful area where I’ve spent many happy days as a child, swimming the Beacon Tarn. It was looking like we were in for a treat weather-wise as the sun rose, bringing into light a thick layer of mist over Coniston, which we would soon descend into. I start to think to myself, it’ll be a long day and you don’t have great legs so there’ll be no touching Donnie Campbell’s course record from last year but if you can’t win this…
Beacon Tarn Reeds
You’re shit.
The Coniston Fells, home sweet home.
A few miles of technical woodland running along the eerie shores of Coniston and we were soon arriving at the first CP in Coniston itself. I was pretty hungry by now so stopped for a load of flapjack, cake and coffee before making my way onwards, aware the leaders were 5 minutes ahead, no worries!
Coniston
Through Tarn Hows and towards Skelwith Bridge I’m running alone and can’t see anyone ahead so put some music on and push a little, thinking it’d be nice to be leading by the start of Stake Pass. I soon catch the two leading groups before the second CP at Sticklebarn in Great Langdale. The running here is on my old haunts as I lived in Elterwater last Winter which was great. It was nice to be back briefly, reminiscing of running the Lakeland 100 last year and looking forward to racing it again next year.
A few more bites to eat and myself and two others were making our way towards the bottom of Stake Pass. The pace was quite easy so I carried on alone and pushed slightly to open a gap. Looking back a few hundred metres up the pass I noticed one man had given chase so I pressed on, running where I could and taking advantage of my ascending ability on what is overall a very flat course (73miles, 3000m+). Hunger ebbs and flows but thankfully today my appetite is fine and I’m eating well, I have a large pack of sweet chilli peanuts and several gels to strike a good balance between fast and slow release energy and to give my palate some variation.
Nearing the top of Sake Pass
Through Borrowdale I start to feel the first real signs of fatigue. I’m only half way but try not to focus on that, admiring my surroundings and the prospect of finishing in daylight. The weather couldn’t be better either and the fells look amazing so there’s not a lot to complain about. I bump into an old friend along the shores of Derwent Water which is random, almost running right on by in my own little world.
Derwent Water, looking towards Skiddaw.
Skirting around Cat Bells and I’m on very familiar ground, having been here only a few days previously on the bike. I strike up conversation with another runner and try to run with him, but it quickly becomes apparent that I’m now a lot slower than usual and make my way to the Keswick CP alone. It’s great to stop, sit down for a proper rest and scoff some veggie chilli and rice, plenty of cake and flapjack and coffee. Bottles refilled, I make my way onwards, walking for a good mile or so to let the food down before making my way around Skiddaw.
Looking back, skirting Skiddaw.
I look back often but can’t see anyone which is reassuring, but I don’t want to rest on my laurels and I do want to finish in under 14 hours, before it gets dark! The going is tough underfoot from Skiddaw house YHA onwards and it’s difficult to find a rhythm and maintain running on legs which are now very tired. My hip flexors aren’t used to running so much and when I can it’s more of a fast shuffle as a couple of relay team members overtake me. I take in the scenery and think of how different it is to running the Bob Graham Round Leg 1.
Climbing alongside Grainsgill Beck it’s nice to shift into a hike, even if I am a bit slow now. I keep glancing over my shoulder to see if anyone is behind me and as I approach the top of the last climb to High Pike before the Caldbeck CP I can see a runner in a fluorescent green top. ‘Shit, the guy I dropped before Stake Pass was wearing a similar top, it must be him! Either I’ve slowed down a lot (looking at my split times Keswick to Caldbeck was a bit slow) or he’s saved himself for a strong finish!’ I panic a little and press on, running all the way to the top to get out of sight as fast as I can. I go offline a little descending the other side but quickly rectify my effort thanks to my handy SatMap, bit frustrating and I half expect to look left and see him barrelling downhill straight past me. I push on along the road to the Caldbeck CP and eat some vegetable soup and the usual flapjack, cake and coffee before getting back out as quickly as I can.
Pan-flat half marathon to finish mmm
Again I can only manage a walk to let the food settle and make my way along some undulating wooded sections before the trail becomes more runnable. From here the course is pretty much pan flat and includes a lot of tarmac. Yay! I glance back again just before Sebergham and lo and behold here he comes. Fuck.
It’s time to make some swift decisions. I think at first maybe it is another relay runner but then assume it is him, he has a similar build and height and maybe he’s ran a wiser race than me, held back until his time to push came, and take the win. I slow to let him catch me, totally confused at his race closing speed and feeling very deflated, ‘maybe I can run with him for a while and try and up the pace nearer the finish? No! Jesus how many times have you done that in mtb races in the past and let things slide for good? This is no time for making friends, you want to win this so bad, you have to go NOW!’
I commit myself to opening the gap again and up my speed. I was hoping for an easy win but now I’ll be running the last 10 miles faster than I did the first. ’Just hang in there, this isn’t too bad, another hour or so and it’ll be done and dusted, you’ve got this, stay calm.’ My heart rate hovers around 160, my speed around 7mph. It’s tough but sustainable as the adrenaline starts to settle. I keep glancing back and the elastic tightens as he drops back, then I glance again and he’s maybe 100m behind! Shit I don’t think I can crack him! Will it really come down to a sprint finish?! I don’t take my eye off my SatMap and am infuriated when I see him straight lining through fields I’ve skirted the perimeter of, staying true to the Cumbria Way route. The anger makes me dig deeper and I open a fields-length gap on him but am shocked when I see him duck under a fence, when the route clearly follows the course of the river.
“What are you doing?! Follow the path!” I shout. He sheepishly backtracks and follows the footpath. I may have won the moral battle but I still had a finish line to cross. Fuelled by the passion to win I keep pushing onwards, draining the battery on my Sat Map by having it lit all the time.
I’d seen a few other relay members cutting corners and it really pisses me off. It’s not a fell race, it’s not a pure navigational event, despite being unmarked. You follow the designated route and everyone does the full distance. May they with the strongest body and/or mind win. This equality is what defines ultra running to me and it’s a shame when individuals feel they are an exception. I can understand the temptation can be there when a podium is at stake but if you haven’t got the legs to win on a level playing field (pardon the pun) it’s a hollow victory in my eyes. Rant over!
The last few miles from Dalston are mentally excruciating. It’s nearly all tarmac alongside the railway and I can’t help but think how much of a grim start it would be to the walk if you were going the other way! The miles tick by and I’m thoroughly aware of the pounding the tarmac is giving me in my hard trail shoes. I wonder what the people I’m running towards think, looking a bit sorry for myself as my number is on my back. Sure enough the castle comes into sight, marking the finish and I hobble over the main road bridge, up to the castle entrance and into the grounds to cross the line with my arms in the air as a winner, at long last!
Finishing time of 13:49. I laugh when the guy behind me crosses the line. Yep, relay team member. Oh well had he not pushed me so hard I’d not have finished in under 14 hours or in daylight! Now shivering from the cold I haul myself up and hobble off to the nearby Hostel to wash, change and head out for a well earned feast.
Good value oop nort!
The next day my legs aren’t too sore so I mooch around Carlisle centre for a while and get breakfast before the prize giving and coach ride home, happy to have hit two birds with one stone by winning my first Ultra and completing the Cumbria Way.