So time to fess up, the reason there's not much running in my blog is I don't really run, not proper running anyway, you know the keen sort of flat fast running proper runners do! So when after the Ultimate Trails and Born Survivor I decided to try and get better at the flat bits I on a whim signed up to the Lancaster Trail Half it's along the canal so it's flat as a pancake and I did mean to train but that didn't go to plan so the only specific training id squeezed in was 1 x 10 mile, 1 x 6 mile on the flattest route I could find in Kendal (not very flat) on top of a couple of speed sessions.
The plan was sub 2.30 and no walking.
Mile 1
Scenery = round the army base slightly surreal to run by army folks shooting targets
Mental = I don't think I like this, I could be on the fells walking up to run down
Mile 2 - 4
Scenery = canal to right, bridge ahead, field to left
Mental = I don't like this, when is the hill, why is every one overtaking me
Mile 5
Scenery = canal to right, bridge ahead, field to left
Mental = over took a canal boat, I love this
Mile 6 - 9.5
Scenery = canal to right, bridge ahead, field to left
Mental = I can run quite far ... Cool
Mile 9.5
Scenery = canal to right, bridge ahead, field to left
AAAAAAAARGH ... My calf explodes in pain and I lurch almost head first in to the canal don't stop running, what do I do, panic, there are no more marshals until the finish so the only logical thing I can think of is slow down a bit but keep running (its only now that I realise I could have turned back to the drink station at 9 miles, but at the time all I thought was I did 10km with a shin fracture how hard can 4 miles be with a micro tear - possibly it's not so micro anymore) and (wo)man up!
Miles 10 - 12
Scenery = canal to right, bridge ahead, Field to left
Mental = hurts. Still running.
Miles 12 - 13
Scenery = hill.
Mental = now there's a chuffing hill! Photographer ... Smile I'm having a great time.
Mile 13.1
Done.
So did I enjoy it? No not really, but I ran it all and realise with out the exploding calf I would have been fairly close to 2 hours or possibly even below, my clock time was 2.05 (I suspect even if I was wearing a watch I would have put a bit more effort in on the final 2 miles I truly thought I was fighting for 2.30)
If I want to get faster long distance I need to grit a few of these out, I can run much further than I thought and I'm in pretty good shape apart from the injury and even with it I was ok for swimming an hour after I finished.
Sunday, 20 October 2013
Wednesday, 16 October 2013
Meeting heroes.
When I was 9 years old I met Chris Bonnington, I don’t
remember much about the talk he had given but I can remember every detail of
where I was standing when I looked in to his kindly face and confidently
announced “I like the look of Everest, could I climb it one day” he raised an
eyebrow and told me of course I could if I wanted. I have never climbed
Everest and suspect based on the fact
that Striding Edge makes me want to be sick with fear that I never will, but I
do remember that he seemed like a pretty ordinary man that had done some
extraordinary things and that is a good thing for kids to know.
So when I heard that the legend that is Scott Jurek was
coming to the Lakes I instantly asked the girls if they would like to meet him.
L wasn’t keen but D (who wants to grow up to be a running chef – not both at
the same time)was keen so along with Sue, my Mum and my Mum’s friend we headed
up to Ambleside.
As D nervously edged her self forwards Scott turned and
beamed, and our usually silent and serious child beamed back and hopped forwards
“do you run” asked
Scott
“yes I go to a fell
running club” Scott smiled and said “I can tell, long legs, long arms perfect
for a runner, does your Mum run?”
“she tries” said D. (Thanks!)
“I have a question,
what should I do when I get stitch?”
See she is so much more practical than me, I didn’t think of
asking Chris Bonnington how to climb Everest, and so now we practice as advised
by Scott to breath quietly from our belly instead of gaspingly from our chests
and I wonder if when D is older she like me will remember when she met a an
ordinary man who worked hard and became legend
- the next day she met Christine from the Great British Bake Off but
that’s a whole different story!
Running in the darkness ...
I stand at the edge of the darkness with the car park lights
behind me staring forwards across the field at the headtorch lights in the
distance. I wiggle my toes in my speedcross and bite my lip in anticipation;
it’s silent except for the breathing and waiting all around me. “TEN” the shout
comes and fifteen runners burst forwards in to the darkness each trying to
remember the points value of the headtorches in the distance, working out
where to go to get ten and trying not to trip and fall in the pitch black. I think i’ve just sent a six year old flying I stop to
survey the damage where upon the child takes the advantage flies round my legs
in to the dark. My own 6 and 9 year olds skip by and finally we are all back at
base, waiting again ... SEVEN ... the younger kids are soon flopping on the
floor between calls but no one complains, no one asks to stop and with each
call they leap up and race off in to the dark, and just when everyones legs and
lungs are screaming, when it seems like we’ve been running forever, it’s over
and boxes of homemade cake appear by magic from the backs of cars, fixtures,
races and baking are happily discussed between grown- ups and kids alike.
Welcome to junior fell training!
Sunday, 22 September 2013
Making impossible possible - Born Survior 21/09/13
Born Survivor is not an ultra but I'm sneaking it in, it is 'only' a 10km, with 'only' 1000ft of ascent/descent ... but 40 obstacles, two rivers, and a whole lot of mud, all in the amazing surroundings of Lowther Park in Cumbria make it an amazing, tough and surreal experience.
Finishing the 100km last weekend my thoughts by Sunday afternoon had switched to poking the achy bits, checking my feet, and working out what was needed to make sure I was at the start line. I had faired pretty well and was able to run by Monday, and by some miracle my feet that had taken a battering in France had been improved by 24 hours of bog on the Ultimate Trails (I kid you not, a large painful crack up my heel that I stuck together with rock tape at the start had vanished by the end - love you Hokas) Sue on the other hand spent the week with her feet in a bowl of antiseptic to blast the blisters and with her feet up on a box at work to try and fix a swollen ankle. She finally went to the docs on Friday evening to be told her foot was too swollen to be x-rayed (!?) and that as there was no diagnosis the doctor wasn't prepared to tell her not to run ... Game on! Mentally I was unprepared I'd been so focused on the 100km that this was beyond my capacity for thought so it was a good job we weren't alone, for this we were joined by friends from our weekly HIIT (high impact interval training) class and we were dressed as Wonderwomen and Banana Men ...
Had you asked me 12 months ago I would have said group exercise classes - not my thing, obstacle courses - not my thing, dressing up - totally not my thing!! so here we are doing not my thing - instigated by ... well ... me!
So that got me thinking what was I doing and why? Andy Mouncy in his new project "cracking the spine" says "impossible is just a made up word grown-ups use when they think they [kids] can't" I love this statement but think it might be applicable to some grown ups too (it's the proper grown ups you have to watch) and yesterday each of us in the team faced something that was in the morning impossible - be that climbing an 8 ft wall, diving through a murky river under barrels, (tip opening your eyes won't help you see but will cause silt, grit and mud to stick to your eyeball causing pain, this will stop you from being worried about the dam barrels) Crawling under barbed wire through sticky smelly mud, sliding head fist down a hill on a soapy plastic sheet - what ever your impossible it was all there! So by mid-afternoon so many impossibles were in truth possible.
So I've still not really answered what happened in the last 12 months? where does the boundary between possible and impossible actually lie? ... so a small scientific research project for a Sunday evening to test the hypothesis suggested by Andy.
I'm going to consider three "impossible" events ...
So what I think this shows is that impossible is a concept that doesn't fully exist - to do or not do things is a choice you make (and it is fine to make) and that is not the same as it being impossible. As for what I was doing there in the first place, it is disappointing to find in my 30's that my hunger for a quiet, sensible life on the edge of the Lake District is diminishing not increasing, my appetite for adventure and new experiences grows with each passing year, my need to answer questions about my own capabilities - (how far can I run - how fast can I run - how high can I climb - can I ride a bike - can I swim across a lake) - drive me to grab at all the opportunities I can, mid-life crisis I hear you shout ... yes probably buy hey I'm having a blast so I couldn't care less.
And so, only a week after 100km, ignoring all sensible advice about recovery after an ultra Sue and I along with an amazing group of women and our two banana men stood on the finish podium, we had had several hours of fun, all our families and kids had been almost every step of the course with us, cheering us on and revelling in our success (my kids had also blagged them selves a go on some of the obstacles once the competitors were all through - look out Gaynor P, baking Daizy wants you to design a mini version?!) Would I do it again ... no it's not my sort of thing!!! ;)
Finishing the 100km last weekend my thoughts by Sunday afternoon had switched to poking the achy bits, checking my feet, and working out what was needed to make sure I was at the start line. I had faired pretty well and was able to run by Monday, and by some miracle my feet that had taken a battering in France had been improved by 24 hours of bog on the Ultimate Trails (I kid you not, a large painful crack up my heel that I stuck together with rock tape at the start had vanished by the end - love you Hokas) Sue on the other hand spent the week with her feet in a bowl of antiseptic to blast the blisters and with her feet up on a box at work to try and fix a swollen ankle. She finally went to the docs on Friday evening to be told her foot was too swollen to be x-rayed (!?) and that as there was no diagnosis the doctor wasn't prepared to tell her not to run ... Game on! Mentally I was unprepared I'd been so focused on the 100km that this was beyond my capacity for thought so it was a good job we weren't alone, for this we were joined by friends from our weekly HIIT (high impact interval training) class and we were dressed as Wonderwomen and Banana Men ...
Clean and nervous at the start
So that got me thinking what was I doing and why? Andy Mouncy in his new project "cracking the spine" says "impossible is just a made up word grown-ups use when they think they [kids] can't" I love this statement but think it might be applicable to some grown ups too (it's the proper grown ups you have to watch) and yesterday each of us in the team faced something that was in the morning impossible - be that climbing an 8 ft wall, diving through a murky river under barrels, (tip opening your eyes won't help you see but will cause silt, grit and mud to stick to your eyeball causing pain, this will stop you from being worried about the dam barrels) Crawling under barbed wire through sticky smelly mud, sliding head fist down a hill on a soapy plastic sheet - what ever your impossible it was all there! So by mid-afternoon so many impossibles were in truth possible.
So I've still not really answered what happened in the last 12 months? where does the boundary between possible and impossible actually lie? ... so a small scientific research project for a Sunday evening to test the hypothesis suggested by Andy.
I'm going to consider three "impossible" events ...
- Me being first lady in the L100 (just writing this makes me laugh out loud in an empty house making the dog jump)
- The dog learning to run sensibly beside me during the first 10 miles of a run (laughing again)
- A child of mine going to space
So what I think this shows is that impossible is a concept that doesn't fully exist - to do or not do things is a choice you make (and it is fine to make) and that is not the same as it being impossible. As for what I was doing there in the first place, it is disappointing to find in my 30's that my hunger for a quiet, sensible life on the edge of the Lake District is diminishing not increasing, my appetite for adventure and new experiences grows with each passing year, my need to answer questions about my own capabilities - (how far can I run - how fast can I run - how high can I climb - can I ride a bike - can I swim across a lake) - drive me to grab at all the opportunities I can, mid-life crisis I hear you shout ... yes probably buy hey I'm having a blast so I couldn't care less.
And so, only a week after 100km, ignoring all sensible advice about recovery after an ultra Sue and I along with an amazing group of women and our two banana men stood on the finish podium, we had had several hours of fun, all our families and kids had been almost every step of the course with us, cheering us on and revelling in our success (my kids had also blagged them selves a go on some of the obstacles once the competitors were all through - look out Gaynor P, baking Daizy wants you to design a mini version?!) Would I do it again ... no it's not my sort of thing!!! ;)
Thursday, 19 September 2013
Ultimate Trails 100km
I've never written a report before, apologies for the length!
The Ultimate Trails 100km is a looped course from Brockhole close to Ambleside in Cumbria crossing 6 Lake District Passes with a leg busting 14,000 feet of ascent. These things usually come about through a process of egging on and roping in between myself friends and family, however on this occasion I saw a link about the event on the Lakeland Trails page and grabbed my card and entered ... Friends Sue, Kim, Emma, Liz, Wayne and Andy all did the same!
The course director is Gaynor Prior who I know from helping her out supporting a Bob Graham last year ... I didn't know Gaynor was director when I entered and suspect I may have paused if I did (only because I might have been able to predict that the course would be beautiful but deadly!)
I was coming in to the run with a DNF from the L50 hanging over my head on the downside, but fresh back from a week running in the Alps on the plus. I'd helped Gaynor at a different event a couple of weeks earlier and received a message asking if I could lend a hand on registration so at 12pm on Friday I was up at Brockhole putting up tents for myself and Sue. The camping was a fair way from the car park not a problem on Friday, but taking it all down on Sunday and lugging it back to the car was far from fun.
I headed up to registration to get myself signed on before helping, usual set up of number issue, kit check and timing chip issue. The timing chip was on a lanyard similar to the K2B which was a
surprise as I was expecting the usual wrist Dibber, it was disappointing to find that there was no
competitor tracking system, most big events update as competitors come through CPs so family and
friends can see progress ... Still this brought with it a sense of freedom it was just us and the course no one watching or commenting!
Once everyone was registered Graham held a short race briefing explaining that the course would be fully marked and that the overview map issued at registration was not to assist navigation - I personally have an issue with people being out on the fells with out a map and some method of knowing at least where they are so both map and compass were in my kit - I had decided that I would be better off getting a nights sleep in my own bed 10 miles down the road ... Hmmm the best laid plans, by the time my 6 year old had tumbled out of the top bunk grazing her back (using all my kit graze plasters) and I had made a 1 hour trip through closed roads due to the Kendal Torchlight to
replace the plasters in my running kit I was wishing for a damp cold tent and peace and quiet.
I collected Sue at 5am and we headed up to Brockhole, it was with slight frustration we parked the car in the pay for parking area (at £8 per day many competitors were frustrated)
At 6am with no ceremony we were on our way a short loop of the grounds and out on to the trails.
The first section climbs from the edge of lake Windermere on to Robin Lane before crossing Garburn Pass to CP 1 at Kentmere, this is a straight forward section which I know well but the tight time barriers in operation at every checkpoint had made me worry, as it was I set off running well overtaking a number of people on the loop and holding my position as we climbed to arrive in Kentmere 20 minutes up on my vague schedule, Sue was in a couple of minutes later we grabbed a
quick drink of coke, topped up bottles and both grabbed a couple of ginger biscuits (these were to
become a major source of nutrition in the run).
Section 2 heads over what feels like an impenetrable wall, Nan Beild Pass is usually shrouded in
moody clag that builds from its hefty mountain neighbours (Harter Fell & High Street) but this
morning a cloudless blue sky framed the fells and standing on the top looking at the sparkling waters
of Hawswater and Kentmere Resivoir was an amazing sight, it surprised me how few runners took a
moment to take it in. The descent is mix of small rock, scree and slippy slabs of rock, in my salomons this is a favourite descent but today I was cautious in my Hoka's. Sue was suffering with cramping in her calves and feet so we picked our way down reminiscing about various race broken bones amusing and scaring in equal measure two lads who were with us on the descent.
We arrived at the checkpoint in good time and grabbed a handful of crisps and more ginger biscuits and set off round Hawswater, we took the section easy the sun was out, it was warm and perfect (you could say we forgot what we were doing and were enjoying it all far too much) Coming in to Brampton I pushed ahead slightly running down the road and as I arrived I was over taken by the wonderful smell of bacon sandwiches, I asked where they were and the marshal pointed at a plate ... a plate with a lonely half a bacon sandwich ...my mental thought processes went ... we had been talking about these bacon sandwiches for hours, still if I ate it quick she would never know, but I would know, did I care, dam it I did ... I tore the sandwich in half and handed Sue a tattered, squashed sorry looking half sandwich, she looked unimpressed. That or nothing I said. Just as we were leaving I noticed a blue Helly top on the back of the chair Glyn was sitting at, it was soggy with sweat and eye wateringly wiffy but thinking of him suddenly needing a spare top through the night and not having it I bravely looped it round my waist. Arriving at Howtown we just missed them but finally caught them at the half way point in Patterdale ... my to everyone's amusement it was not Glyns top I removed it and gratefully handed it to a marshal glad to be rid of it (hope it made its way back to its owner)
We were all in pretty high spirits at the checkpoint and made Gaynor run around after us before heading out on to the toughest part of the route, the time plan had always been to get through the Dunmail CP by 6.30pm as after this you would be held back to cross Watendlath with the sweepers. It seemed however that our enjoyment and general faffing might have put this in doubt and seeing Geoff Cox standing at the top of the forestry track gave us a panic, I pulled a pleading face and he let us through 6.27pm!
The climb on to Watendlath is my favourite part of the whole route, however once out on the moor an error in my recce became clear where I had looped round the side of the fell on a fairly easy path the route climbed through bogs seeming to go on and on in the failing light. We stopped to put our headtorches on before starting the steep descent to the village. The CP was in the bothy billed as having a log burner and beds!!! probably better that neither of these existed and once we discovered like many of the CPs they were lacking in essentials (milk + real food) we made a fairly quick exit when a large group arrived with the sweeper.
The next section is long, it was dark, we were shattered ... not much to add to that! We'd been pretty much in a group since leaving Patterdale but on this section Glyn and Andy pushed ahead, then at the bottom of Stake pass Sue and I set of climbing ahead of Liz and Wayne. Liz was having a nightmare with her feet and a row between her toes and a pair of injinji socks slowed them down. By the time we came to old Dungeon Ghyll Sue was ahead of me and I noticed a head torch high on the fell to my left, I stopped and tried to work out what it was doing there ... was I imagining it? (this was plausible I had been interested in the Egyptian Spinx sitting on a rock earlier and while wondering what it was doing there it stood up and wandered off to eat some grass, and I'd made some interesting twists and turns as sheeps eyes became indistinguishable from the glow sticks - safe to say the lack of sleep on Friday was having an impact) Just as I could see the drop to Sticklebarn the headtorch began to descend quickly on what seemed like a path that would intercept with the path that I was on. Now there are clearly a lot of rational explanations for why another runner may be on that fell, not one of these occurred to me, I was about to be murdered, raped and pillaged, I did the grown up thing burst in to tears and dragged my broken legs in to a run, I arrived gasping in to the checkpoint and attempted to explain my close call with certain death, but before I could get the words out one of the radio guys wandered in to explain to the crew that even taking the mast right up the fell hadn't worked. Oh! I shut up and ate Sues chips (oh yes finally some food) and a ginger biscuit.
We headed back out in to the night leaving Wayne and Liz sorting themselves out. We didn't know it until the next day but the sorting was all an act, they had decided to stop but they didn't want to put the idea in our heads so let us go thinking they would follow - I can't thank them enough for that.
Out on the route we met a French girl looking confused, there were no markers through this whole section but luckily we know it well so the three of us stuck together, again a fortunate coincidence as the battery in my headtorch failed and she had a spare. Ambleside checkpoint was the only place on the route I thought of stopping but an old friend and marshal Richard had been posting updates on my facebook and it was here that he decided to show me the messages and encouragement that had been posted there ... I sulkily wandered back out in to the night leaving Sue and Corrine(?) faffing and headed up in to Skeghyll woods my least favourite part of the route.
The girls soon caught up and as we reached the top dawn broke, the drop back to Brockhole seemed endless but in the way these things always happen suddenly we were stood on the road and the entrance to Brockhole was in sight, we all looked a bit taken aback and headed in to the car park as a car screeched round the corner and parked at a crazy angle, we all tutted irritated until Rich hopped out and started to clap. The field was deserted and the rain had started as we dibbed in and walked up the steps to the event centre for our goody bag and hot meal ... also known as a t-shirt, soup & slightly stale bread :( Overall we had enjoyed the event, yes the CP's had run out of food and milk for us but the marshals had been so friendly we'd been forgiving, yet somehow this was a blow, cold knackered and hungry the lack of medal or any finishers item was hard to take, we gathered our things said goodbye to Corrine and set off back to the tents, as the rain hammered down we decided to pack up and head for home.
Almost a week has gone by since the event and in some ways it seems unreal and I have found myself questioning if I even did it, the photographer after halfway didn't stick around for the back of the pack so there's no photo evidence, I had no blisters (in fact my feet are in a better state today than a week ago), I was at Dallam running club on Monday climbing and descending, and of course no shiny medal hangs on the kitchen wall as a reminder! I checked it out with Rich and he seems to think I did do it, so I will take him at his word. It's an incredible route, dare I say it more varied and interesting than its Lakeland counterpart, but the atmosphere was lacking - I suspect only for us at the back - and it is that, that will make me pause when entries re-open for next year. Although my husband logically suggested I could just run a bit quicker. If you want a new challenge then go for it, hopefully the route will be better publicised before hand to ensure people can recce properly, and some of the small things can be tweaked and made better.
Thank you to all those who kept us company, and entertained us along the way (Karl, James, Speedy old guy, quiet man with poles, Green top man, Liz, Wayne, Glyn, Andy, Corrine) to everyone who marshalled and organised (Kim, Bev, Sally, Goeff, Rich, Zoe, Gaynor and Graham - to name only a few)
I'm not sure I'm cut out to write race reports any more than I am to run ultras but I suspect that like the latter I will probably keep up the former :)
The Ultimate Trails 100km is a looped course from Brockhole close to Ambleside in Cumbria crossing 6 Lake District Passes with a leg busting 14,000 feet of ascent. These things usually come about through a process of egging on and roping in between myself friends and family, however on this occasion I saw a link about the event on the Lakeland Trails page and grabbed my card and entered ... Friends Sue, Kim, Emma, Liz, Wayne and Andy all did the same!
The course director is Gaynor Prior who I know from helping her out supporting a Bob Graham last year ... I didn't know Gaynor was director when I entered and suspect I may have paused if I did (only because I might have been able to predict that the course would be beautiful but deadly!)
I was coming in to the run with a DNF from the L50 hanging over my head on the downside, but fresh back from a week running in the Alps on the plus. I'd helped Gaynor at a different event a couple of weeks earlier and received a message asking if I could lend a hand on registration so at 12pm on Friday I was up at Brockhole putting up tents for myself and Sue. The camping was a fair way from the car park not a problem on Friday, but taking it all down on Sunday and lugging it back to the car was far from fun.
I headed up to registration to get myself signed on before helping, usual set up of number issue, kit check and timing chip issue. The timing chip was on a lanyard similar to the K2B which was a
surprise as I was expecting the usual wrist Dibber, it was disappointing to find that there was no
competitor tracking system, most big events update as competitors come through CPs so family and
friends can see progress ... Still this brought with it a sense of freedom it was just us and the course no one watching or commenting!
Once everyone was registered Graham held a short race briefing explaining that the course would be fully marked and that the overview map issued at registration was not to assist navigation - I personally have an issue with people being out on the fells with out a map and some method of knowing at least where they are so both map and compass were in my kit - I had decided that I would be better off getting a nights sleep in my own bed 10 miles down the road ... Hmmm the best laid plans, by the time my 6 year old had tumbled out of the top bunk grazing her back (using all my kit graze plasters) and I had made a 1 hour trip through closed roads due to the Kendal Torchlight to
replace the plasters in my running kit I was wishing for a damp cold tent and peace and quiet.
I collected Sue at 5am and we headed up to Brockhole, it was with slight frustration we parked the car in the pay for parking area (at £8 per day many competitors were frustrated)
At 6am with no ceremony we were on our way a short loop of the grounds and out on to the trails.
The first section climbs from the edge of lake Windermere on to Robin Lane before crossing Garburn Pass to CP 1 at Kentmere, this is a straight forward section which I know well but the tight time barriers in operation at every checkpoint had made me worry, as it was I set off running well overtaking a number of people on the loop and holding my position as we climbed to arrive in Kentmere 20 minutes up on my vague schedule, Sue was in a couple of minutes later we grabbed a
quick drink of coke, topped up bottles and both grabbed a couple of ginger biscuits (these were to
become a major source of nutrition in the run).
Section 2 heads over what feels like an impenetrable wall, Nan Beild Pass is usually shrouded in
moody clag that builds from its hefty mountain neighbours (Harter Fell & High Street) but this
morning a cloudless blue sky framed the fells and standing on the top looking at the sparkling waters
of Hawswater and Kentmere Resivoir was an amazing sight, it surprised me how few runners took a
moment to take it in. The descent is mix of small rock, scree and slippy slabs of rock, in my salomons this is a favourite descent but today I was cautious in my Hoka's. Sue was suffering with cramping in her calves and feet so we picked our way down reminiscing about various race broken bones amusing and scaring in equal measure two lads who were with us on the descent.
We arrived at the checkpoint in good time and grabbed a handful of crisps and more ginger biscuits and set off round Hawswater, we took the section easy the sun was out, it was warm and perfect (you could say we forgot what we were doing and were enjoying it all far too much) Coming in to Brampton I pushed ahead slightly running down the road and as I arrived I was over taken by the wonderful smell of bacon sandwiches, I asked where they were and the marshal pointed at a plate ... a plate with a lonely half a bacon sandwich ...my mental thought processes went ... we had been talking about these bacon sandwiches for hours, still if I ate it quick she would never know, but I would know, did I care, dam it I did ... I tore the sandwich in half and handed Sue a tattered, squashed sorry looking half sandwich, she looked unimpressed. That or nothing I said. Just as we were leaving I noticed a blue Helly top on the back of the chair Glyn was sitting at, it was soggy with sweat and eye wateringly wiffy but thinking of him suddenly needing a spare top through the night and not having it I bravely looped it round my waist. Arriving at Howtown we just missed them but finally caught them at the half way point in Patterdale ... my to everyone's amusement it was not Glyns top I removed it and gratefully handed it to a marshal glad to be rid of it (hope it made its way back to its owner)
We were all in pretty high spirits at the checkpoint and made Gaynor run around after us before heading out on to the toughest part of the route, the time plan had always been to get through the Dunmail CP by 6.30pm as after this you would be held back to cross Watendlath with the sweepers. It seemed however that our enjoyment and general faffing might have put this in doubt and seeing Geoff Cox standing at the top of the forestry track gave us a panic, I pulled a pleading face and he let us through 6.27pm!
The climb on to Watendlath is my favourite part of the whole route, however once out on the moor an error in my recce became clear where I had looped round the side of the fell on a fairly easy path the route climbed through bogs seeming to go on and on in the failing light. We stopped to put our headtorches on before starting the steep descent to the village. The CP was in the bothy billed as having a log burner and beds!!! probably better that neither of these existed and once we discovered like many of the CPs they were lacking in essentials (milk + real food) we made a fairly quick exit when a large group arrived with the sweeper.
The next section is long, it was dark, we were shattered ... not much to add to that! We'd been pretty much in a group since leaving Patterdale but on this section Glyn and Andy pushed ahead, then at the bottom of Stake pass Sue and I set of climbing ahead of Liz and Wayne. Liz was having a nightmare with her feet and a row between her toes and a pair of injinji socks slowed them down. By the time we came to old Dungeon Ghyll Sue was ahead of me and I noticed a head torch high on the fell to my left, I stopped and tried to work out what it was doing there ... was I imagining it? (this was plausible I had been interested in the Egyptian Spinx sitting on a rock earlier and while wondering what it was doing there it stood up and wandered off to eat some grass, and I'd made some interesting twists and turns as sheeps eyes became indistinguishable from the glow sticks - safe to say the lack of sleep on Friday was having an impact) Just as I could see the drop to Sticklebarn the headtorch began to descend quickly on what seemed like a path that would intercept with the path that I was on. Now there are clearly a lot of rational explanations for why another runner may be on that fell, not one of these occurred to me, I was about to be murdered, raped and pillaged, I did the grown up thing burst in to tears and dragged my broken legs in to a run, I arrived gasping in to the checkpoint and attempted to explain my close call with certain death, but before I could get the words out one of the radio guys wandered in to explain to the crew that even taking the mast right up the fell hadn't worked. Oh! I shut up and ate Sues chips (oh yes finally some food) and a ginger biscuit.
We headed back out in to the night leaving Wayne and Liz sorting themselves out. We didn't know it until the next day but the sorting was all an act, they had decided to stop but they didn't want to put the idea in our heads so let us go thinking they would follow - I can't thank them enough for that.
Out on the route we met a French girl looking confused, there were no markers through this whole section but luckily we know it well so the three of us stuck together, again a fortunate coincidence as the battery in my headtorch failed and she had a spare. Ambleside checkpoint was the only place on the route I thought of stopping but an old friend and marshal Richard had been posting updates on my facebook and it was here that he decided to show me the messages and encouragement that had been posted there ... I sulkily wandered back out in to the night leaving Sue and Corrine(?) faffing and headed up in to Skeghyll woods my least favourite part of the route.
The girls soon caught up and as we reached the top dawn broke, the drop back to Brockhole seemed endless but in the way these things always happen suddenly we were stood on the road and the entrance to Brockhole was in sight, we all looked a bit taken aback and headed in to the car park as a car screeched round the corner and parked at a crazy angle, we all tutted irritated until Rich hopped out and started to clap. The field was deserted and the rain had started as we dibbed in and walked up the steps to the event centre for our goody bag and hot meal ... also known as a t-shirt, soup & slightly stale bread :( Overall we had enjoyed the event, yes the CP's had run out of food and milk for us but the marshals had been so friendly we'd been forgiving, yet somehow this was a blow, cold knackered and hungry the lack of medal or any finishers item was hard to take, we gathered our things said goodbye to Corrine and set off back to the tents, as the rain hammered down we decided to pack up and head for home.
Almost a week has gone by since the event and in some ways it seems unreal and I have found myself questioning if I even did it, the photographer after halfway didn't stick around for the back of the pack so there's no photo evidence, I had no blisters (in fact my feet are in a better state today than a week ago), I was at Dallam running club on Monday climbing and descending, and of course no shiny medal hangs on the kitchen wall as a reminder! I checked it out with Rich and he seems to think I did do it, so I will take him at his word. It's an incredible route, dare I say it more varied and interesting than its Lakeland counterpart, but the atmosphere was lacking - I suspect only for us at the back - and it is that, that will make me pause when entries re-open for next year. Although my husband logically suggested I could just run a bit quicker. If you want a new challenge then go for it, hopefully the route will be better publicised before hand to ensure people can recce properly, and some of the small things can be tweaked and made better.
Thank you to all those who kept us company, and entertained us along the way (Karl, James, Speedy old guy, quiet man with poles, Green top man, Liz, Wayne, Glyn, Andy, Corrine) to everyone who marshalled and organised (Kim, Bev, Sally, Goeff, Rich, Zoe, Gaynor and Graham - to name only a few)
I'm not sure I'm cut out to write race reports any more than I am to run ultras but I suspect that like the latter I will probably keep up the former :)
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