White Rose 100 - Keeping the Focus

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My season closer was again to be at the White Rose Ultra in the Colne Valley. A beautiful hilly location providing some great views and fun trails. The driver this year was motivated by the insanity that is accumulating UTMB points. After the disappointment that my Lakeland 100 run wouldn't be providing any points, I was left with the daunting prospect of running three 100 milers next year (I was entered for the Lakeland again as my A race for 2016 so I'd need 2 more for enough points). However I'm determined to exercise some restraint as regards the number of 100 milers I race in any given year, due mainly to the ever prevalent danger of over training syndrome. The warning signs for me being a 12 week virus exacerbated by a crushed immune system. So having entered the White Rose 60 miler this year it seemed 'wise' to upgrade to the 100 mile option to bag those elusive 4 UTMB points and take some pressure off of next years schedule.

In approaching a second 100 miler of the year I felt much less pressure to perform. I wanted a good result to take into the long winter months, but I also knew I was tired from my experience at the Ladybower 50 post Lakeland. As it turned out the week rolling into the race my cold finally lifted and my energy levels improved. The 100 mile route starts at midnight on Halloween and commences with an extra 10 mile loop before pushing onto three larger thirty mile loops. I'm accustomed to running looped courses, although I'm aware they can be tough mentally. Overall there was to be around 14'000ft of ascent over the route, which suited me fine as late on in races I can pick up places on the climbs where others often start walking more.


The day leading up to the race I tried to stay rested, but with a poor sleep the night before and a failed attempt at a snooze in the afternoon it wasn't the best prep. Equally my parental responsibilities meant  I was out trick or treating with my two younglings. Then we packed the car and set out for the hour drive to Golcar near Huddersfield. My wife dropped me at the race HQ at about 10pm, wished me well then took the kids home for some much needed sleep. I found myself sat in a chilly room full of anxious runners waiting about for the start of the race. I took the time to get some food in and some caffeine and chat to some of the other runners. With about an hour to spare my friend Chris Baynham-Hughes turned up. A well known face in the ultra-running community with his affiliations to the UK Skyrunning series and an impressive win at the Marmot 12hour this year. I caught up with Chris having not seen him since August when we'd met up for some adventures in Chamonix.


With about 10 minutes to spare we all filtered outside to the start line. I'd started to get quite chilly during the waiting time so had donned my Salomon GTX Active Shell to stave off the cold. I knew I would get quite warm when we started though so I stripped back the layers to just an S-Lab tee and an S-Lab Light Jacket. The weather was cool and foggy which held some moisture in the air. I mentioned to Chris about moving to the front of the pack to start, but he remarked that we should set off near the back to keep our pace in check. This seemed a sound strategy and with my lack of discipline in such matters I was keen to play along, so we lined up pretty much at the back of about a 100 runners. However this ended up being short-lived as Chris merely charged through the entire field up the 200 or so metre cobbled path before we hit some road. I chuckled at Chris' apparent impatience and eagerness at the start of an ultra that was comparable to my own 'shortcomings'.


And so it was, me and Chris ran out in front as the road pulled slightly uphill. I took a glance over my shoulder and saw the field were already 20 or 30 metres back. A brief conversation and we agreed to ease back a little to keep the effort levels low. This 10 mile loop was unknown territory for us both so nav was a little tricky in places. There appeared to be 3 or 4 marshals with vehicles that were leapfrogging to various points to direct the entire field.  This was great in principle but the race was spreading out already so we found the marshals driving past us shouting directions from their cars. The comedy of the situation was amusing us, but equally frustrating at times as we had to stop and wait for other runners who could point us in the right direction. The highlights of this 10 mile loop were a section along the canal and a climb into a muddy, foggy field with no clue as to where we were supposed to get out - cue the other runners catching us again! Annoying in most other scenarios but I was just enjoying myself so much chatting to Chris about running and politics. As we neared the end of the loop we discussed aid station tactics and agreed to pretty much run straight through the HQ. So as we ran in, quick water refill and out. The HQ sits at the bottom of a steep cobbled road on an industrial estate and as we ascended back out for our first 30 mile loop we saw 3rd place coming the other way. So we pushed on and put some pace in up the next steep climb to try and create a cushion.


The race turned into an exciting game of cat and mouse. It was easy to pin point other runners as we were all on head torches, so as anyone appeared to try and bridge the gap to me and Chris we just pushed on until we apparently broke them. This worked well till the sight of head torches behind us became less and less and further away. Despite this early charge I felt we were conservative on most of the bigger climbs, easing back where necessary to respect the distance. The 'bog of doom' was our first encounter with this suitably muddy section and I wasn't keen on drenching my feet this early on like I did at Lakeland. We managed to skirt the worst of it with only my toes getting wet really. I spent the next 10 or so miles reminiscing of my 60 mile race from last year. There's some really nice sections of single track that climb and fall with some quality gradients.


Typically of me, 20 odd miles into the race I had a small lull in energy levels. Luckily the steady pace we were moving at wasn't causing a major issue so I just soldiered on glad of the company with Chris. What was becoming a concern however was a nerve pain running down through my left calf. Typical of any taper, on the last few days before the race my back had started hurting quite badly on the right side. My experience earlier in the year with this is that the pain had then manifested as sciatic pain down my right calf. Oddly at this point in the race my right side felt fine, yet the left calf was coming out in sympathy with an agonising nerve type pain. One of the upsides of a race of this length is that most problems can be overcome or merely drift away and forgotten due to the sheer amount of time elapsed by the end. I don't mention these issues in my blog to serve as an excuse, far from it. I think in recording my experiences, both the ups and downs, I can gain the necessary learning to improve. It's through self assessment and reflection that I can grow as a person and an athlete.


Later down the trail we got stuck into some fast and fun muddy sections of descent and some pleasant rocky climbs that served to distract from the intersecting road sections. A highlight of this course for me is the ascent up to Wessenden Head. A valley that steadily keeps climbing, the trail hugging the side of the hill in a meandering single track. I really felt I was getting into my groove here so held what felt a comfortable pace pushing towards the 'summit'. Looking back at that point we couldn't see anyone in sight which is where I think we took our foot off the gas a bit, which wasn't helped as I think Chris was hitting a bad patch here. The last little sting in the ascent of the valley and the gradient kicks again, it was here Chris told me to just run on as he was suffering. I was torn with what to do here, hang on to the great company and ride out his bad patch together or push on. I looked down into the valley below and could see a head torch maybe half a mile back which made my decision for me - I trotted up to the aid station at the top where I took my time filling my bottles up. I looked back to see if Chris had caught up, but in his absence I knew the decision was made to push the pace and get on with the race.


That was a pivotal moment in the race really. Me and Chris had discussed this very scenario prior and also during the race. It was inconceivable that we'd be able to run an entire 100 miles without suffering lows. And my learning from the Lakeland 100 was exactly that, in running in groups you only end up running to everyones weaknesses. Equally I'm sure if I'd have waited for Chris, some miles down the road I would have ended up slowing him down somewhere.


And so here I was in the lead in a 100 mile ultra, feeling comfortable on the whole and moving relatively well. As I pressed on across the next section of moorland I glanced back and saw a couple of torch lights pursuing but it was difficult to gauge the distance back to them. The crushing reality that I would need to keep putting in this effort for another 65 or so miles weighed heavily. But I was also getting a taste of what was required to win one of these events. And with that taste came the hunger. I'd already planned that as I hit the Headquarters again I would grab what I needed and run straight through. I didn't want to dangle the metaphorical carrot to any would be pursuers. As I arrived at HQ the marshals were busy signing people in for the impending 30 and 60 mile race starting over an hour later. I shouted my number to be registered but initially I just received blank looks as I don't think they were expecting anyone just yet. I got my tick, filled my water and pressed on.

Happy and cruising

The adrenaline boost from running up front kept me from throttling off too much when I felt tired. With the sun now fully up the daybreak had given me renewed energy and I powered up the hills, danced the descents and kept my cadence high on the flats. Things were nicely going to plan.


My nutrition plan for the race had been ambitious - a friend, Conrad Wild had recommended a product called Tailwind. A product that has almost comedically received huge hype on social media in the ultra running community. Essentially a powered drinks additive with carbs and electrolytes combined. Hardly revolutionary, yet numerous people were singing it's praises even over 100 mile races. A product of clever marketing or a genuinely great solution to running nutrition? Well although a huge gamble I was going to find out. I'd carried enough for the first 12 hours of running and my wife & kids/crew would be arriving later and be able to stock me up if necessary. It turned out that throughout the entire race other than a sausage roll and a banana, I fuelled entirely on Tailwind. I was pleasantly surprised by this revelation - I never felt sick or suffered any real sugar lows or cramps. I can think of at least two previous races that were hampered due to being unable to eat with stomach issues - hopefully I've found my solution!


As the second large loop progressed I expected to start seeing 30 and 60 milers come past, but was surprised to literally not see anyone for hours. The next 20 miles were pretty uneventful, my pain in my left calf had eased to be replaced by what I can only describe as a tear in my right lower calf (soleus). It's an old injury that sometimes flares up post ultras, not normally during. Running on the flat the pain was more than manageable, it was ascending where I had to lift on to my toes as stretching the calf was agonising. It didn't feel like a race-ending injury, more something to be managed and nursed accordingly. Despite this I felt I was moving at a good clip and keeping the field off my back.

Coming into the aid with cowbells in full effect

As the race continued I felt myself naturally slip into that transcendent state where the mind empties completely. It's meditative and you almost get the sense that you could run forever. It's so hard to explain this phenomena and one needs to experience it to fully understand the sensation. It's apparent that running solo on such a long journey is what can manifest this state. Moments of joy, with movement the only concern of the body - breathing, perspiring, light legs bounding across the land, fully self aware. It's this focus that if maintained allows us to run distances that many think inconceivable. I would argue that almost anyone could achieve the same with the right motivation and conditioning. I'm certainly not superhuman, but I am determined. When pain reaches a certain zenith, you have to be confident it can't get any worse. Then it's just a matter of the body and the nervous system adapting to that stimuli and continuing to move on. From here on out it was just a matter a keeping the focus...

Running up to Wessenden Head

As I ran along a sweeping ridge line looking down at the stunning countryside below the tranquility was broken by the beautiful sound of my children screaming encouragement. At first I contemplate whether it's an hallucination before Ava and Cam barrel into me at full speed. My greatest joy at that moment is to see the excitement in their faces when I inform them I'm currently leading. My wife Emma arrives and I take the time to walk along with them all for a minute to regale my overnight adventures. As we hit the top of the road leading down to the base of Wessenden I see our Jeep parked up so I take the time to sit down on the bumper and sort my feet out. I'm content to sit with my family, wanting to share my experience with them. Unfortunately I'd lost focus, I took too much time enjoying the company I'd clearly longed for over the last few hours. It was then female runner appeared on the horizon, moving well. I recognise her from the start as a female Raidlight athlete from Norway called Irene Kinnegim, a veteran of many ultras and Ironman events. I know she will be impressive over this distance and spare no time in making things easy for her.


I jumped up and charged down the hill towards Wessenden, adrenaline pushing me on in the moment. As we hit the climb and the adrenaline wore off a little I tried to return to an easy effort to push on up to Wessenden Head. Unfortunately I just didn't have the energy at that time, my legs suddenly feeling leaden from the 65 miles of pounding they'd received. And here came the crux of the race for me. I looked back at Irene and saw how well she was moving and knew then it wasn't if but when she would pass me. Although competitive, I love that our community in ultra running is so friendly so I took the time to pass pleasantries with Irene. I complimented her on her pace before committing the cardinal sin of asking how far back third place was. The answer was a comforting 'oh, long way back' but I'm sure it would have given her the incentive to move ahead knowing I was concerned about who was behind me rather than first. But I guess it's how these things play out sometimes. I was fairly happy to let my body come round before trying to mount a counter attack. So my main aim was to keep in touch with her and see if I could turn things around. First thing was to get some calories in with the Tailwind, which over the next 30 minutes or so turned my low around.


It was on this climb I was also passed by first place in the 30 miler, Matty Brennan. After a quick chat and an update that Chris (Baynham-Hughes) was in third and still moving well despite a problem with his back, Matty moved on ahead up the climb. It occurred to me then that in my last 100 miler at the Lakeland, Matty had come charging past then too running to an impressive 2nd in the 50 miler.


After a little sulk about losing the top spot I had a word with myself and soldiered on with a purpose. I got my head back in the right place and regained my focus. I even started truly enjoying myself again out in the hills doing what I love. As the end of the final lap approached I reflected on my day so far, fairly pleased with the current outcomes. Yet my ambitions weren't yet extinguished so I  fuelled up and headed straight back out into the hills. I think part of what I truly got right during this race was to avoid hanging around at the aid stations at all. I was literally grabbing water and moving on. The accumulative time I wasted in aid stations during the Lakeland 100 is quite astonishing, something I will remedy next year when I return.


The last 30 mile loop entailed some decent running which fills me with confidence as regards my improving endurance over this distance. At about 80 miles in I passed the first of several 100 milers who were a full lap behind. I took the time to chat to each one and both congratulate their efforts and will them to keep moving and finish the event. The thought of being out for a second night would have filled me with dread so fair play to any of them that managed to get round the full 100 miles. One of these guys commented I was first male as I passed. This wasn't something I'd even considered, I enjoy racing and like most I want to win. I suppose there are two categories in ultras and I guess I was on course to win one of them at least. A hollow victory in my mind but all the same it gave me a boost to hold on when things felt tough.


I had run the first 80 miles in the Salomon S-Lab Sense Ultra which had served me amazingly. They were grippy enough for the slick sections of trail, comfortable on the rocks and more than sufficient on the roads. That's not to say the sheer amount of pounding over the miles hadn't taken it's toll. I took the opportunity to change into some Salomon S-Lab X-Series. A road/trail hybrid shoe that just gave me a little extra cushioning late on when I needed it.


The end of the race started to pan out for me about 85 miles in as two guys running together caught me. I'd seen they were slowly closing me down over the last 10 miles or so, but the way they were moving led me to suspect they were probably 60 milers on their second lap. Sure enough when they caught me, just before the ridge line where I'd seen Emma and the kids earlier, they confirmed they were leading the 60 mile race. Both called John, one of them kindly commented on how well I was moving for the distance I'd covered. With this confidence boost I took the opportunity to run along with these guys and spent the next 3 or 4 miles tagging along, thankful for the conversation.


It was only as we climbed Wessenden for the final time the two Johns started to drop me. This wasn't all bad though as I got to enjoy the view of the sun dropping in a gorgeous blend of red and yellows, illuminating the sky in a vista worth framing. These moments make the pain and suffering seem worthwhile. To feel truly alive, exercising outdoors as a dichotomy to a society that continues to destroy the need for fulfilling movement in a generation of Apple worshipers. As a comical hypocrisy to that statement I took a minute to pull out my iPhone and take some pictures to capture the view...

Wessenden again as the sun sets

As the darkness descended, the last 10 miles were punctuated by a pair of headlamps pursuing me through the blackness. This incentive pushed me ever harder to the finish line. Rationally I knew it was unlikely to be another 100 miler, but equally in my tired state I couldn't be sure, neither did I want to get caught napping again. I was even still holding out hope I might catch Irene for an exciting race to the finish. As it turned out I wasn't to catch Irene, she ran a better race than me both pacing and clearly in her strength as a runner. With more experience and conditioning the better runner won. So with my 2nd place (1st male..) to hang on to I ran. And I felt I was running hard. The pair of lights haunting me every step of the way.





And as the final miles ticked off painfully slowly I could sense the finish. Digging deep I charged into the finish with no sight of the chasing lights anymore. I checked in to finish and my Suunto Ambit 3 had recorded a time of 18hours 58minutes for 1st male and 2nd overall.

At the finish before I've checked in

Prior to the race if I'd have been offered a sub20 and a podium I'd have been more than happy - so to fein any disappointment is disingenuous of me. My progress continues at a pleasing rate. Third place came in over an hour later so my fear was unfounded in the end, but that's not to say the thought didn't help me sneak under that sub19 time.


A few minutes after I finished, Matt and Richard Wilson came in for joint 3rd in the 60 mile race (the two chasing head lamps), and they were shortly followed by Debbie Martin-Consani who took 5th overall, 1st female and CR! Under normal circumstances this would have been business as usual for Debbie, but not for the fact she'd been hit by a car mid-race!! Hard as nails, that's all I have to say on the matter. Debbie had jokingly set the challenge before the race that I wasn't to let her catch me, so I must thank her for that extra incentive not to ease off late in the race.


A mention should also go out to Chris, who despite a crippling back problem he'd developed the week before held on for an impressive 5th place in the 100.

Quality nutrition post race

I also want to extend huge thanks and love to my amazing crew in Emma, the kids and the Garratt family. And also thanks to Salomon and Suunto for the ongoing support and having faith in me.

The crew sat waiting in Hank the Jeep

Ladybower 50 - Running on Fumes

(Fotografia2007)

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Nostalgia

The Ladybower 50 holds a certain reverence with me as back in 2013 it was my first 50 mile ultra. It’s also local so a night in my own bed always helps in allowing me to turn up well rested. It's an incredibly friendly event and a little lower key than some of the ‘championship’ events I've tended to enter throughout the year. The course is not particularly demanding compared to the more mountainous routes I often prefer these days, despite 4250ft ascent (according to Strava) it’s really only undulating throughout and underfoot generally very good. It certainly makes for a rapid runnable course, but this of course means it is also generally a fast race.

My history with the event has served to demonstrate improvement each year, from an 8:50 in ’13 to a 7:15 in ’14. I was pleased to take a decent chunk of time off my PB last year, and in doing so beat the previous course record by about 15 minutes. The caveat to this was that I was beaten by a runner (called Gareth Bowden) by about 50 minutes, who took even more time off the course record in the process! Since last year I’ve seen further improvements in my running, and as such I was curious as to how fast I could run, and equally if I could try to secure a victory. My primary goal for the day though was to beat my time from the year before, ideally with a sub 7 hour time.

Unfortunately, despite these aspirations, eight weeks prior to this race I had run my first 100 miler in the Lake District. The Lakeland 100 had dominated my training requiring me to amass lots of steady vertical ascent and time on my legs. Exacerbating this training demand further was a long bout of sciatic pain and subsequent physiotherapy to relieve the issue. The point being, that race was for me the pinnacle (short of the UTMB) of my running journey so far – a distance and course profile I had aspired to reach.  The issue with this was I had literally poured my heart and soul into achieving what, for me was a respectable showing on my first 100 miler. It continues to represent a distance which fascinates me and feeds my motivation to run these events. The downside was it has left me depleted, not only on a physical level but also mentally to an even greater degree.

This isn’t meant to represent a list of excuses for a poor performance, on the contrary I’m pleased with my race at the Ladybower. Rather I want to document my evolving motivations to push when mentally and physically challenged by the debilitating nature of ultras.

The Race - LB50 20th September 2015

The morning brought a calmness I don’t usually experience on race days. I’m normally a torrent of emotions ranging from excitement, nervous energy and often a feeling of readiness. I was in a great mind set, content to drive steadily down to the Derwent Valley where the race is held and take whatever the day served up. The sunrise was truly magical on the drive over the Strines Moor, a low mist in the valleys adding to the dramatic effect. All this ensured my good mood continued with the promise of a dry and possibly warm autumnal day. On arrival I signed in and was greeted by the race director Steve King who asked me if I was going to win this year?!? While flattering it did serve to bring the first flutter of some nerves. The support I’ve been lucky enough to receive from Salomon and Suunto has, at times added to the expectations by some in respect of my results, but has also contributed to my ever increasing improvements over the last six months. While this can help, it also adds to the pressure when I just want to focus on enjoying the experience and get the best out of myself.  I am of course hugely grateful for the support both Salomon and Suunto provide as I use all of the products to my advantage – particularly in the use of the fantastic equipment they provide for me! For this particular event, the Salomon S-Lab Sense Hydro Set handheld water bottle system was perfect due to the distance between aid stations and in addition. I also used the Slab Ultra Race Vest for a couple of the main laps capitalising on it's super lightweight but with extra room for food. This was also the first time I'd tried the new Salomon S-Lab X-Series which ticked all the boxes for this type of terrain with added comfort, precise foothold and assured traction.

Before we set off I was fortunate enough to bump into last year’s winner, Gareth, as we hadn’t had chance to chat last year. Not knowing who else was toeing the start line with us we set off together and led the race out along the first bit of trail. I love this section of woodland trail that gently winds up towards the A57 before skirting back up towards Slippery Stones via Ladybower, Derwent and Howden Reservoirs. It was great to spend some time talking to Gareth and get to know him a bit – top bloke and a cracking runner to boot. We progressed at a brisk but manageable pace dropping into the high 6 minute miles on the first little 5 mile loop before commencing the 3 larger 15 mile loops. This was the sort of pace when I ran the Highland Fling I was extremely comfortable at, maybe even a touch quicker, yet today it just felt a bit forced. My stomach hurt a touch and my breathing was a little laboured. I put the effort down to not running many fast miles since the Fling in April with the Lakeland being my primary summer focus. I resigned myself to continue for a while longer to see if I settled down at all. Another runner joined me and Gareth as we neared the first aid at mile 5, but as we ran through it split the group. Gareth ran straight through, I stopped momentarily to sort something with my wife (Emma) before charging on in pursuit and the other guy seemed to stop for water or something, but suffice to say I never saw him again.

I kept Gareth in sight all the way through the woodland trail again, but it was apparent he was running slightly quicker. I assessed my situation and how I was feeling in general and came to the annoying realisation that I was going to have to throttle off for a while. I found this disappointing as I’d been keen to race closer with Gareth for at least 20-30 miles then see how I’d feel for a strong finish. I love racing especially when you get embroiled in a battle, it's the times I can get the best from myself especially when someone’s pushing me all the way. It just felt a ridiculously early point to be experiencing relative defeat. I can honestly say I wanted to push at that point, yet surprisingly looking at my previous years run I was actually running a faster average pace, I just believe I was missing an extra gear that could have made for an interesting race. A pain in my stomach and a deep fatigue in my legs were threatening to make the wheels fall off my day. I certainly didn’t relish the idea of a DNF having not suffered one up to press (touchwood!). So I resolved to grind it out, if things turned round I might still salvage the day, if not I could be proud to force a finish on such a tough day.

                                                                         (Fotografia2007)

With the resolution to enjoy myself I moved on with a purpose and started to get back in the moment and soak it all up. The easiest way to move on was to concentrate on my form and ensure I was running efficiently and covering ground the best I could. And so my race became an exercise in good running form, focussing on every step, assessing my arm swing, leg-pull through, posture and cadence. All these elements ensured I continued to chip away at the course while repeating the mantra ‘Don’t walk’! As I ascended the far side of the reservoirs towards Slippery Stones at the top end, I got into a good groove and essentially broke the chasing pack. Sections of the route take big doglegs alongside the reservoir that serve to allow a good view across the water of competitors in front and behind. This confirmed that after about 16-17 miles into the race I was at least 10 to 15 minutes clear of third place with no view of any pursuers whatsoever. But this also did the same in relation to 1st place showing Gareth was once again putting the hammer down and breaking clear. I was in a better place mentally though and I was happy to run on feel despite my legs suffering a dead leg sensation.

(Fotografia2007)

As I ran into the 20 mile point my family were waiting to cheer me through which gave me a huge lift. I came through in 2:31 which was 7 minutes quicker than 2014, so I guess I was running well despite my internal concerns. I told Emma I wasn’t eating well with an upset stomach but grabbed some flapjack and a banana to get some solids in. I managed to eat them both over the next mile or so which helped my energy levels a bit. But I couldn’t help but wonder if my general low feeling was a product of the Lakeland still in my system. To add to my low feeling my hips started tightening up at around the 22 mile point making my movement laboured and slowing my pace a little. Back to form! I concentrated on my cadence and arm swing to ensure I kept a reasonable speed going. I’d already resigned myself to a hard day racing, but I was keen to get some positivity out of the experience. My middle 15 mile lap proved to be a complete suffer fest where my body didn’t want to respond to my ambitions. At the 25 mile point Emma failed to turn up with any coke, which I’d already figured would be the most effective way to keep my glycogen levels up to prevent me bonking. Another low!

(Russell Tanner Photography)

The High

Things started to come round eventually; I plugged into my ipod and got some inspiration from the music I’d selected, then Emma randomly appeared at the 30 mile point armed with a huge bottle of coke. I managed to throw about half a litre straight down my neck and psychologically it immediately boosted my energy levels. Despite this when Emma asked how I was I replied ‘I feel awful’, which prompted a National Trust warden to literally stop me. I assured him I was fine but he insisted I stop, so I had to explain that a sugar crash was quite normal for ultra-runners and I’d no doubt bounce back shortly. I then ran on rather amused by the exchange. I can appreciate the guys concern and if only he knew some of the awful lows endurance athletes suffer through, of course always with the promise of a potential high just around the corner.

And then quite before I really expected it I was coming into the last lap to meet my friend and pacer, Stan. A quick time check and I had come through in 4:41 (4:54 in 2014). I was told Gareth was a good 20-30 minutes clear now so I’d resigned myself to 2nd place bar a miracle, which gave me a clear mind to focus on getting sub 7 hours. Stan and I were joined for a short distance by a 'Strava' running friend, Craig who’d randomly turned up to wish me well. It’s this sort of community spirit that is why I love this sport. It was the first time I’d met Craig in person and it was another lift in a day that had started with me in such a negative place. When Craig peeled off we got to business and found that we were passing a number of 50 mile runners now on their second lap. I have to admit it was a great feeling especially as it reminded me there was a race going on behind after spending so much time by myself.

Me and my pacer Stan on the final lap (Russell Tanner Photography)

Stan continued to do his best to keep my spirits up commenting how well we were moving. Which is funny because all I could think was that my tight hips were impeding my stride and speed. We picked up Emma at the 40 mile mark as another pacer but she only lasted a couple of miles before she dropped off due to the pace (but in fairness she’s been injured for the last few months). I guess, which she later confirmed, we were moving better than I thought. Something that had become apparent during the race was the gradient of the ascents. What were once climbs in my mind were now no more than gentle inclines after competing in gruelling races like the Lakeland, making these hills runnable throughout. It’s this sort of perspective that demonstrates the progression I’ve made. I was pleased to see Carmen Franks near the finish line from Fotografia2007, who was kind enough to take some of the pictures that I have used for this blog. She's been really supportive of my running for which I'm immensely grateful.  

                          (Fotografia2007)

The Finish

I think it was about 3 miles out from the finish I felt the first rumblings of adrenaline for the end. This in turn translated into a new found spring in my step, my stride lengthening accordingly. As the speed increased it felt great and made me wonder if I could’ve stepped it up a bit earlier. In my heart of hearts though I knew I was running the best I could with how my body was functioning but something kicked in. The last ascent to the finish line came all of sudden and I couldn’t help but wish it wasn’t the end now as I’d reached a state of total enjoyment and satisfaction. I crossed the line in 6:50:08, a PB of some 25 minutes securing a solid 2nd place. Bearing in mind how weak I’d been feeling all day I could only be pleased with that result. Gareth had done amazing again, beating his own course record in the process, and I had the satisfaction of knowing I’d finished about 20 minutes closer to him than in 2014.

(Fotografia2007)

I take some confidence away from this race that when things are challenging I can face it head on and get the job done. I do these sort of events because they are incredibly tough and to be despondent on a day when it all feels too hard just isn’t in keeping with the motivation to be challenged. My passion for running and constantly pushing my own perceived boundaries only means these hard days serve to bolster my strengths further.

(Fotografia2007)

REST........for now

I’m currently enjoying my 4th day of rest after the Ladybower 50 to fully recover and reset before I commence training for the White Rose Ultra 100 miler in November. Hopefully I’ve got one last solid race in me to see the year out…

Thanks to Jeff Cole (http://www.injuryscene.co.uk) and Annie Needle (http://www.roomtorelaxholistictherapies.co.uk) for the sports injury treatment you have both given me, it assisted in my recovery for both the Lakeland 100 and the Ladybower 50. More importantly Salomon and Suunto for the fantastic support you have provided me, I am proud to run and be an Ambassador for such great sports companies.

The Lakeland 100 - Perspective

Those who know me personally will know the significance of the 100 miler to me. Albeit an arbitrary distance, but much like the marathon to some (the history of the 26.2 mile distance makes interesting reading) the 100 mile distance holds a certain reverance with many. A seed planted 5 years ago saw me evolve from occasional social runner to ‘full time’ obsessed ultra runner. And in doing so a dream of running a continuous 100 mile race held an importance and value unmatched by most of the achievements in my life. An undertaking that would require a determination and commitment to fully engage myself over the years in order to see it through to its unimaginable conclusion. Much like the Marc Laithwaite’s  (Race Director) pre-race speech, we don’t see these events as abnormal because we affiliate and socialise with likeminded folk - but this doesn’t take from the magnitude of the task. As I progressed from marathon to 50k, up to 40 miles then the 50 milers - they all felt like difficult but digestible incremental increases in distances, so much so they never threatened to overwhelm me. This was going to be something else entirely. I’d selected the Lakeland 100 for it’s stunning scenery, reputed difficulty and a quality field to test myself against. But I wasn’t naive to the fact it has an annual drop out rate of around 50% (from approx 350 starters) and is often regarded as the most difficult 100 miler in the UK.

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As I lay back in the reclined passenger chair of my Jeep, an hour before the pre-race brief, I couldn’t help but reflect on the situation. I was comfortable but an underlying layer of energy and anticipation prevented me from relaxing properly. It was at that moment I realised that perspective was one of the most important aspects of running ultras. In several hours time even 10 seconds reclined in that chair with the luxury of being able to close my eyes would be complete bliss. Yet right now I just wanted to get out into the fresh air and ready myself for the race to come. I likened this to a beer I’d had earlier in the week on my birthday celebration. It was nice because I rarely drink these days, yet post ultra a beer can taste like a gift from the Gods, an elixir capable of bringing a joyous release from miles of exertion to which we are unaccustomed. Perspective would be my motivation and guide through the challenge to follow. Perspective would also pick me up when I was at my lowest. I once read that 100 milers are run for the first 80 miles with the legs, the last 20 with the mind - that is how I would bolster my resolve when things felt impossible.

I finally alighted from the Jeep and headed to the event centre at John Ruskins School in Coniston. I was lucky to have my family with me to offer support and act as crew when allowed, particularly at Dalemain where I’d appreciate some assistance. I was also surprised to find Stan (and his wife Sue) had come out to cheer me on. I was fundraising for Cancer Research for this event after my running mentor Stan had been diagnosed with Prostate cancer last year. To have him there to support me and as a motivator to finish was just amazing. The atmosphere at the school was fantastic, buzzing with runners doing their final preparations and excited for the challenge to follow. It’s difficult to convey the tangible feeling of anticipation at this event and unless you’ve been you probably wouldn't quite understand it. Suffice to say it feeds the engine and empowers the runner with an energy that’s shared amongst the field.

                 

    Clockwise from top left - Stan ,Stuey and Dad         

       

Me, Dad and Stan talking race strategy

The race brief was the usual mix of comedy, reality check and inspirational content before we were ushered outside to prepare for the start. I bumped into Stuart Percival here, a good friend who’d shared my Lakeland 50 experience last year and reccied parts of the course with me. It was great to catch up before dibbing into the starters pen together along with his club mate Tony Allen. Introductions, some nervous chats with starters near the front before the now annual rendition of Nesun Dormer. Inspired and ready to charge, I gave the wife a kiss, quick pact with Stuart that we’d finish no matter what and focussed my mind.

Waiting at the start line

Coniston to Seathwaite

At 6pm on Friday 24th July the countdown began;

10! - Okay I remember this from last year and feeling jealous of the 100 runners.

9! - Just keep it slow early doors!

8! - Think of all those hill reps you’ve done...

7! - My family are waving at me.

6! - It’s nice my sciatica is no longer hurting from weeks back.

5! - The weather is cool and borderline perfect right now.

4! - There’s a lot of people expecting a performance from me here - pressure?

3! - It’s okay, you’ve done over half this distance already.

2! - You won’t get lost you’ve reccied!

1! - Oh crap, have I even got this in me????????

I wave at my family as I’m swept past them in a wave of frantic runners, the pace more akin to a 10k than a 100 (105!!) mile race in the mountains. As we climb up and out of Consiton I desperately try to settle my effort. I allow a few to come past as we ascend a road that soon turns into trail before reaching the gate onto the base of Walna Scar. The technical rocky terrain that’s normally my favoured ground feels alien and incredibly hard work. I back off more, allowing some annoyed runners to come by shouting ‘faster runners coming through!’. It’s single track up here, part of the reason I pushed on, reticent to fall in with a stream a competitors walking this early on. Yet now I feel a steady hiking effort would be more in keeping with my feelings at this point. My breathing is laboured, my legs accordingly feel heavy, I’m light-headed - Christ I’m only a mile or so in to a 105! Over the next ten minutes or so I start to settle into things a little, even starting to enjoy it all a little. I remember to live in the moment and savour every second.

Early climb towards Walna Scar trying to settle down

As we kick ever upwards towards Walna Scar I finally feel like I’m finding a rhythm. Another runner comes past and I find a position I think I’m comfortable in for now. Moving along and happy I’m actually counting down the miles that have dominated my thoughts for many months. As I summit the climb and begin the descent I remind myself to go easy on the legs to protect my quads, run light with fast cadence! It feels good although another runner fly’s past hammering down the fell. I feel completely in control now, patient that most of these will come back to me over the next few miles when they’ve destroyed their legs too early. As we hit the road heading into Seathwaite I drop into a super comfy pace that’s obviously a little faster than others as I pick up a couple of places running into the aid. The aid station is a hive of activity, the volunteers all dressed as superheroes. I dib in, top up my water and run out - no messing and in doing so it appears I've picked off a few more runners.

Seathwaite to Boot

A quick high five with Teen Wolf, a howl and I’m off through Seathwaite ready to find the cutting into the woods. Luckily I dropped in with a group of three runners here so navigation was of little concern at this point. I was really starting to find a bit of a rhythm now, settling into the long evening, night and then day to follow. In my group was Mick Allen and John Yuill. A couple of guys who on and off through the entire race would be in my vicinity. This was great in some respects as we’d help push each other through the bad patches to come, but the offset being if somebody suffers a low patch it’s often to easy to back off your own effort and treat it as an excuse.

As we hit the next climb I felt strong and was loving the effort now. Rolling trails requiring little effort, I was in the moment and mentally in a good place after what felt like a shaky start. As we ascended up Hollin How towards Grassguards our group was expanding. There was probably 6 or 7 of us in total, our efforts on a constant and all pleased to move along a similar pace for now. I pushed up front happy to set the pace on a section I was navigationally confident. Skipping over the boggy terrain I tried to keep my feet dry for as long as possible. I’ve suffered blisters in my running adventures but I’ve heard tales of horrendous foot conditions if they are soaked for extended periods. Alas, despite my best efforts I took some water on board, my feet squelching through the mud. Still it wasn’t raining so I was happy my feet would dry quickly enough. It was along Grassguards Gill I initially tried to take a turnoff over a stile that I’d used during a recce with Stuart Percival and Mark Richardson. I was called back by Mick who was adamant it was further along, I was easily swayed but then after taking the next cross over the fence we descended some distance before someone again shouted us back up. We deliberated a short time before begrudgingly ascending back up to the runner in question. The runner was Ian Radford I’d later learn, who along with Mick and John I would spend most of the next 24 hours or so with. When we finally got on the right path we pushed downwards towards Boot - our merry little band of four coming together now. As we ran into Boot I reflected how things seemed to be going well despite the nav errors where we’d lost a little time. I was adamant this wouldn’t affect my positive mindset though.

The four Musketeers (left to right; Me, Ian, John and Mick)

Boot to Wasdale

The Boot aid station is a simple outdoor affair with the staff dressed as French men (unless I was losing my mind at that point…). I topped my water and tried to find something I wanted to eat but I was already after something savoury which there wasn’t much in this respect. I think I took a cup of coke here and maybe a handful of crisps and moved on. The climb felt okay and my effort levels still felt reasonably measured bearing in mind I still had near on 90 miles to cover. This section is quite pretty running up and past Burnmoor Tarn, but if anything a little featureless. I dropped on with 2 guys here, Duncan and Richard who seemed to be veterans of 100 milers. They were discussing previous L100’s and the Ultra Tour Du Mont Blanc so I was in good company. It reminded me that these sorts of distances are well conquered with both strength and experience. The magnitude of my situation threatened to overwhelm me at that point. This wasn’t going to be easy, and although I’ve never being naive to that, I couldn’t help but be reminded at that moment just how tough this challenge would be.

Still I did my level best to stay in the moment, one aid station at a time. That had always been my strategy coming into this race. Anywhere between 5 to 10 miles should always be an easy digestible chunk to the next micro-pleasure at an aid station. So much so, I planned each little treat as I headed towards the next aid station. It might be a cup of soup, or some tea, maybe a sugary treat, but each time it would keep me focusing on short-term goals and not risk being overwhelmed by the magnitude of the distance or elevation (around 22,000ft of ascent).

Wasdale to Boot

I was pleased to hit Wasdale aid station and it was still daylight. I’d always had this as a target so I could start the big mountain passes fresh into the night. Wasdale aid was a highlight as it was run by the Sunderland Strollers and themed as an 80’s disco. It was equally great because it’s Stuart’s (Percival) running club so on informing them I was his mate I accrued a mini fan club. They rallied around me sorting my water and food and I was quickly corralled back out onto the hill to shouts of ‘Go Kirky!’. Enthused I got my head down to the task of climbing Black Sail Pass in the fading light of the valley. The four musketeers were firmly back together on this climb - Mick, John, Ian and me. John clicked away with his poles up the steep ascent happily chatting away keeping the group entertained. I’m one for verbal diarrhoea myself, but John beats me hands down - but what a genuinely nice Dude. We discussed and debated the merits of walking poles, myself firmly in the anti camp, but each to their own. As we reached about the halfway point of the ascent of the pass it crosses a fast moving stream, the waterfall cascading precariously back down into the valley below. Full of the joys of mountain running in the fading light I skipped across the rocks with the confidence that comes from many hours playing on technical terrain. But familiarity breeds complacency and on this occasion I got caught out. As I jumped onto a rock that angled off to the right, soaked by water I slipped into the torrent, smashing my right kneecap on another submerged rock. I jumped out the water and checked myself down. With adrenaline pumping I felt that everything was okay and couldn't feel any pain that would be race ending - near miss!

As we summited over Black Sail Pass I felt the first signs of fatigue in the form of aching in my legs. Considering the 25 miles or so and the ascent we'd done, not bad but still only a chip off the gargantuan distance still to cover. The descent started to hurt a bit with some inkling of pain the knee I'd hit on the rock and my old hip tightening a little. But we pushed ever downwards on the sloppy rocks, sometimes using our hands to climb down. Another runner came past here (Jansen?) and was moving really well. We finally reached the valley floor, safe in the knowledge we still had to climb Scarth Gap before we could get excited about the Butteremere aid station and some more sustenance. 

Running past the Black Sail YHA I thought back to how I'd felt on my recce run here - sciatic pain and cramping in my hips and desperately cold as we'd come over Black Sail Pass slowly in driving wind and rain. We'd needed to hunker down in the YHA to get warm and eat. What a difference the weather and moving speed was making today. My hips felt a lot better and I'd beaten the sciatica following some quality physio work. As part of my treatment I'd been doing frequent hip exercises along with conditioning my glutes to fire correctly. As the race progressed I never really suffered badly with my hips - have to wonder if this is where my issue had been.

I felt really strong power hiking over Scarth Gap although another technical descent took its toll on my knee. By the time time we dropped to the hugely runnable terrain around Buttermere my knee was seriously flaring up and a cause for major concern. The pain was reminiscent of someone driving a nail into my kneecap. It definitely wasn't my IT band, which has plagued my running on and off over the years, this felt like a tendon issue in the front of my knee, exacerbated when descending technical ground. I put it to the back of my mind and pushed on into the darkness. Despite the company of my running companions I went into myself and existed only in the beam of my torchlight. My world reduced down into that space where I could soak up the pain and continue, oblivious to everything else around me. Time seemed to stand still, but sure enough we soon arrived at Buttermere aid station. I went inside to top up my water, I started on soup and sweet tea in earnest here. Ian surprised me by pulling out an e-cigarette and starting to toke away much to his pleasure. He even stated if someone had had a cigarette he'd have partaken! I would take my one and only sit down in the mens facilities here, but asked the guys to hang around for me with the navigational hazard of Sail Pass still laying in front of us.

Buttermere to Braithwaite

We left the aid and hit the steady climb through the woods before we got to the base of the Pass. I was making sure that despite my intense knee pain I tried to run anything that would allow, acutely aware of the huge hiking ascent to come up the mountainside. As mentioned this is often one of the common spots for navigational errors, and having reccied it in daylight I was sightly concerned about making a said error. Mick's course knowledge was impressive so armed with his insight and my recce and research knowledge we picked our way up the mountain with relative ease. The issue with Sail Pass is that if you miss a turnoff it means dropping way too low and left with the choice of backtracking or trying to cut vertically up the mountainside - both options costly in time and energy. Luckily we seemed to hit every turn on cue, teamwork winning through here.

I pushed up front and took my turn in leading our group up the pass. My hiking felt strong and I upped it to a trot when ever the incline allowed. I've finally turned a corner with my snobbery as regards hiking steep hills. At one time I would have balked at the thought of 'walking' anything, and I still mostly do in my training. Yet I seemed to have learned the value of an efficient and fast power hike. If (and when!) I come back to this race next year I will ensure I train this tool in my running repertoire even more - room for further improvement!

The section over to Braithwaite was serving as a psychological stepping stone (ironic that a stepping stone was threatening to unravel my race!). Partly because it was the end of my first recce here, but also because the next 30 miles is much more runnable with some longish sections that are much flatter with less sustained climbing.

The pass went much quicker than I anticipated and we found ourselves on the grassy carpet like descent into Braithwaite. My knee pain continued to dominate my existence and was starting to seriously tire me mentally. I resolved to try and tape it up at the aid.

Braithwaite to Blencathra

We took some time in the Braithwaite aid, to both refuel and for me to try and sort my knee out. After initially asking around if anyone knew how to tape to a knee up I came up short. However it transpired that a kind lady called Jenny who was working in the kitchen there not only knew how to tape it but also had a large toolkit full of first aid supplies. Mick and John said they were going to set off walking and we'd try and catch them on the road out of Braithwaite. Ian kindly offered to stick around while I got fixed up. Jenny basically cut the tape into two strips which she rolled into small 'ropes' which were strapped across the front of my knee cap to offload the tendons. It was then anchored with some electricians tape - sometimes the simplest solutions are the best! Although the knee felt good sat down and strapped up, as me and Ian set off I could tell it still hurt. Still I think it gave me enough of a placebo to push on confident the pain would dissipate, either that or I'd just get used to it and put up with it. 

We soon caught Mick and John along the road, and as we fell in beside them walking it was all too easy to do the same. Ian was keen to keep running while it was easy going - which I begrudgingly agreed so we all set off at a decent pace. I tried to concentrate on keeping my cadence high which helped with my knee and my running speed. The next few miles clicked off nicely through the night, after a few miles we hit the climb up towards Latrigg before turning off towards Blencathra.

Things started to feel better and we were covering the easier ground at a much increased rate. We hit the long valley with an unmanned dibber - strategically placed to prevent runners cutting a huge section out. I love this section skirting the valley side, and the stretch and lay of the landscape allowed us to see any runners ahead or behind. It was interesting to see very few runners behind us meaning we'd made a good gap through the night so far. We guessed we were in around 15th place or so here so everything was going well some 35-40 miles in.

We all dibbed in on the edge of the ruins and pushed on towards Blencathra. Me and Ian ended up pushing on ahead a little up the other side of the valley and John and Mick seemed quite happy at this point to fall back. 

We finally arrived at the Blencathra aid at the Herdwick suite. The theme here was basically Dudes in dresses so we took the time to have a laugh and a joke. I settled down to some soup and discovered 'Little Daves Mums cake' - a welcome delight in aid food!! I asked Little Dave to thank his Mum on my behalf before me and Ian pushed on to Dockray.

Blencathra to Dockray

I felt we hung around this aid a little too long, already identifying places where I could improve in future attempts. So after about 10 minutes I got up and went to leave, Ian followed. As we descended down through a beautiful little wood I was just thinking how we were making good progress when a runner shot by moving really well down the technical roots and steps.  Ian pointed out that the guy was a Raidlight runner called Jansen and he'd won some quality races. It actually instilled some confidence that we were still near to a runner of that pedigree over 40 miles in. And with that in mind as we hit the old Keswick rail line me and Ian started to push. The old track reminded me of the numerous hours spent training on the Trans Pennine Trail near to where I live. These sorts of references can give you a boost, if you've struggled and trained well on similar terrain it offers confidence that you can run through the pain. As we moved well we re-passed Jansen with relative ease, although I suspected he may have been going through a bad patch. Having said that he would never pass us again throughout the race. We also cruised past a guy called Jason on this long flat section such was the momentum we were now regaining.

A mental check of what was to come and I confirmed with Ian we had a short sharp climb up the fells to reach the dreaded Old Coach Road. From my recce a couple of weeks back the Coach Road was going to be a trial, its rolling enough to potentially cause problems, but infinitely runnable. Yet now about 4:30 in the morning after over 10 hours of running I knew it would be difficult to move well. However after our surge me and Ian were up for giving it a good blast. Then to top it off I found myself experiencing a moment in my ultra running I've been looking forward to for the past couple of years - a sunrise. I don't know what it is, and I've often heard it rumoured that the break of a new day can invigorate a runner into finding new reserves of energy. Something to do with the bodies rhythms and reawakening for a day of new exertion. Whatever it was, after lingering to check out the sunrise over the mountains for a few moments, I shook myself and moved on with renewed vigour. The Coach Road stretches for a good 3-4 miles, and when we were about a mile from Dockray aid Mick made a surprise reappearance. He'd donned some headphones and was literally charging up the trail straight through the middle of ankle deeps pools of muddy water. Reluctant to wet my feet any further (I'd got the first inkling that my feet were suffering) I danced around the water and followed on. By the time we reached the aid were back as a 4 pretty much, give or take a 100 metres or so. I sat down with some more soup and bread and got to feeding and chatting to the aid staff. It wasn't too long before I realised I was taking too long again, reticent to leave the security and comfort of the aid. It was Mick who got up and moved on walking down the road that gave me the mental kick I'd need. Unfortunately Ian mentioned he was low on energy and would need longer to collect himself before moving on.

Actually at Dalemain on the sunrise  - taken by Sue Holland

Dockray to Dalemain

Moving again, but aware there were the longest road sections to come I wasn't relishing the thought of the next segment. Luckily it turned out to be better than I thought, after a long downhill to get things moving well again we hit the riverside along Aira Force. I loved this bit on my recce, taking the time to clamber in the beautiful cascading waterfall pools to cool off. Today would bring no such luxury but it was pleasant to meander along the riverside to the sound of running water. Not much further and me, Mick and John started the ascent up Gow Barrow Fell. I felt great up here, pounding along and really looking forward to some treats at Dalemain aid - mainly some dry socks because my feet were starting to really ache.

Aira Force

The views over Ullswater were predictably stunning at that time in the morning, the sun fully up and the promise of a warm day ahead. We moved well over the semi-technical ridge skirting the fell, me happily leading our band of three onwards. We descended onto a stunning little woodland trail that was reminiscent of a scene from Lord of the Rings. This further bolstered my resolve to keep a good pace towards Dalemain where my family and friends would be waiting. Through a few cow fields, which aren't my preferred terrain at the best of times and up onto the final road sections, even less so enjoyable. Still I didn't let this dampen my spirits and pushed wherever I could.

View over Ullswater from up Gow Barrow

I couldn't help but feel Mick and John wanted to back off a little here, but as previously mentioned this is often the disadvantage of running in a group. Still there already had been and very likely would be sections where they would push me on when I was suffering. It's hard to gauge whether it's a good strategy or not sticking to a group. For my first 100 miler I think it was helpful and very enjoyable, but next time I'd be inclined to run more solo to push when I felt strong and if need be drop into groups when I was waining.

Running into Dalemain ready for the new day ahead

All the same we reached the edge of the Dalemain estate in good spirits and running well. Only a couple of miles along the trail and I spotted my six year old Cameron shouting "Come on Daddy, hurry up!" - Priceless! Charging into the aid with my friends and family there was a real highlight and lifted my mood infinitely. I was more than pleased to have reached Dalemain in about 13 hours.

Dalemain to Howtown

The aid was at first spookily quiet, but very quickly, Mick, John, Ian then other runners started to filter in. Still I took the time, with Emma's (my wife) assistance to check on my feet. They looked awful, blisters and the entire soles of my feet seemed to be suffering from trench foot! A quick assessment and I decided to just put a dressing over the balls of my feet and tape them up with kinesiology tape. While this seemed like a good plan, they didn't really feel much better after and on retrospect the dressings just seemed to hold water causing my feet to remain wet for the duration of the race. I also took the opportunity to put on some Salomon S-lab calf guards to keep my lower legs functioning well and prevent further muscle damage.

Emma dressing my badly damaged feet

Strapped knee in agony but happy with some food

Putting fresh shoes on hurt my feet!!

With feet taped and a little food in I decided to push on, what with a stream of runners coming into the aid. So walking out the tent with my family - I bid them farewell and set off painfully running over the fields of the Dalemain Estate. As I traversed the fields I noticed a farmers gate wide open to my left which would allow someone to cut about 500 metres off the course. Tempting, and although painful to skirt round it, there was no way I would allow myself to cheat. So I trudged round and onto the waterside into Pooley Bridge where I got another glimpse of my family before I headed back into the mountains.

Getting moving again after the aid

Setting off across the Dalemain estate - my freshly dried feet immediately getting wet in the morning dew

Time for a check over. Mentally I felt pretty good, I wasn't tired in a sleepy way at all (probably all the caffeine). Physically I felt okay to run but my feet were killing and my knee pain, although excruciating had just become part of my existence that I'd now come to accept. It was good to think I was now eating into the Lakeland 50 course which I'd done last year in blistering hot conditions. Speaking of which as I began to ascend again on the way to Howtown, I could feel the sun getting hotter. it wasn't yet unbearable but it was making me a little uncomfortable under the circumstances. As I hit the top of the fells I ran along with a couple of mountain bikers overtaking me on any descents, then me retaking them on any climbs. They were looking at me a bit gone out, but I didn't have the inclination to explain what I was doing event wise.

Dropping into Howtown my energy levels were dropping rapidly so I knew I'd need something in the tank for the climb up Fusedale to High Kop. It had been nice running alone for a while just to lose myself and my pain in my thoughts, but I'd also neglected to eat in the process. When I was told fudge was on offer at the aid I was very pleased. It sounded appealing and appetising with plenty of sugar to lift my funk. Unfortunately I just couldn't find it, it was either well hidden, misadvertised or my low glycogen levels were causing my brain to malfunction - it turned out to be the latter when it was pointed out I was stood directly in front of a huge box of fudge! I scooped a handful in my mouth and another to carry with me. Water topped up I set off again and as I left Mick came charging in - sans John.

Howtown to Mardale Head

This climb had truly been my nemesis last year causing me all kinds of pain in the heat. With the sheer amount of climbing training I'd been doing I hoped for a better go this year, despite the extra 60 miles in my legs! I haven't checked the splits, but honestly it felt better than last year. The sun was warming up quickly but I was moving fairly strongly. Despite this, looking back down Fusedale I could see Mick closing in on me. I stopped a couple of times to check the road book, stupidly doubting the ever accurate GPS read on my Sunnto Ambit 3. As I neared High Kop, up near the ruins Mick caught me and we summited together. However on the beautiful grassy decent to Low Kop, then down to Haweswater Mick slowed again. I was happy to get my momentum going so I pushed on, even enjoying the steeper descent on the mainly grassy trails. The respite of rocky trails on my feet was short lived though, as I hit the side of Haweswater I remembered how rocky and technical it was underfoot. Still I relish this sort of footwork normally so I soldiered on, bouncing along and engaged with the concentration required to negotiate the trail. As the heat was rapidly rising I took the time to drink from the faster moving streams and dipping my Salomon buff in any small body of water I could find and putting it on my head to aid cooling.

As I neared the aid station, once again Mick caught me and we chatted as we arrived in at Mardale Head. Feeling much better this year I took some more calories on board and took a minute to relax before facing the vertical ascent of Gatesgarth Pass.

Mardale Head to Kentmere

Just before we left, John came charging in like a man possessed! I was genuinely pleased to see him, concerned after Mick had told me he'd suffered with cramps. We left him to refuel while we set off trekking up the never ending switchbacks of Gatesgarth Pass. With loose rocks underfoot that make it difficult to get a purchase, a case of three steps forward, two steps back! Although it's so uneven it always reminds me of the sort of road switchbacks you see Tour De France riders tackling. Someway up the pass John caught up, happily clicking away with his poles. I have to admit a small part of me looked on with envy as he could use his arms to bolster his climbing effort.

When we reached the top we had an agonising descent down into the valley before a long drag towards Kentmere. I'd forgotten this path and it's continuation of the fist sized boulders strewn across the trail. It would be futile to try to explain the Lakeland to anyone who's never run it, but this never ending type of conditions make running incredibly difficult and on the whole very slow. This slowed our proceedings down for a couple of miles before much to my surprise and joy Ian caught us out of the blue. I don't know why but this once again gave me the kick I needed and we started to move quicker again.

Reaching Kentmere was a relief, but I was intent on spending very little time here. Last year in the depths of my suffering I'd spent nearly 30 minutes vomiting outside the aid. The closest I've ever been to a DNF, but equally my proudest moment to have soldiered on and ground out a finish (albeit not as a fast as I would have liked).

I loved the smoothie this year, the highlight of the aid food for me. I also supplemented it with two mouthfuls of pasta, some soup, coke and a sweet tea.

Kentmere to Ambleside

No messing around I actually shouted to Ian and told him we were leaving keen to enjoy his company and fast legs. We set off getting the legs spinning again before hitting Garburn Pass. More fist sized boulders and hands on knees power hiking. Mick and John caught us up here yet again. I think they had a much better pace on the steep ascents, but me and Ian would push on the undulating sections that were more runnable. Funny how the different skill sets complement various sections of the course, but here heading towards the 90 mile mark we were all still together!

I can't recall much more on this section, other than as we dropped through Skelghyll woods towards Ambleside me and Ian had to wait for Mick and his superior navigation on this section. Next year I will recce more!!!

When we hit Ambleside I began to up the pace again throughout the town centre. the atmosphere was fantastic. The pubs packed on a midday on a Saturday, erupted with applause as I ran past. The support for the runners was amazing and truly uplifting after all the miles accumulated.

When I finally hit the aid, my family and friends were once again waiting to support me and cheered me in, ringing their cow bells furiously.

Ambleside to Chapel Stile

Fuelling up in the Ambleside aid I genuinely hadn't even noticed the volunteers were dressed as clowns. I suffer a carnal fear of clowns so it was some reflection on my fatigue at 89 miles in. Laughing off the moment with Emma and the kids I went outside to finish what I was eating and say hi to my Mum, Dad, Stan and Sue. It was so nice to have everyone there, I was truly on the home stretch now with 16 miles to go. If needs must I would have walked it in from here - but that wasn't going to happen. I shouted to Ian but he went off with his family somewhere. I wasn't sure what was happening with him but I wouldn't see him till after the finish. It was a shame because we had shared so much of our journey - thanks mate it was a pleasure!

Getting hot again!

Quick refuel before setting off again

It was onwards for me and cheered on by my crew I set off across Rothay Park. Feet killing, knee with a sharp never ending pain. But it was then I realised, I'd had no hip issues really, no IT band pain. Problems of old that over this distance should have plagued me, were finally overcome? Who knows but maybe all the strength work has finally paid off. The perspective this gave me was like an epiphany - had I got ITB it would have crippled me to a crawl, equally if my hips had tightened I would have struggled to complete the race - yet here I was in complete all consuming agony of another kind and loving every second.

Live in the moment

I got my headphones in, dialled in some inspiring tunes and ran. Ever upwards again, always upwards. This route never, ever lets up, but that's why we do it. That's why I chose it, and that's why I tried my level best to soak up every moment. Stop wishing for the end and enjoy every second of the life experience. With a positive mindset I moved on, climbing hard, but laughably Mick and John still caught me again. Then over the next section along Elterwater and towards Langdale and Chapel Stile we managed some really decent miles clicking along a great pace. Mick leading out on this section strongly all the way.

Charging hard and in pain but loving it - kids in hot pursuit cheering Daddy 

A highlight was bumping into a good friend - Mark Richardson along the course. He wished me well and assured me if I pushed I could maybe get into the top ten. I explained I was spent but appreciated the vote of confidence.

Running into Chapel Stile was such a pleasant experience, like a giant marquee with tempting but dangerous settees! I started to come to the realisation I would definitely finish and fighting for places now would be difficult with energy low and pain high. Still I took a minute or two in the aid to make sure I was good for the 6 miles to Tilberthwaite before the final climb to the finish.

Chapel Stile to Tilberthwaite

The next section was run slower than it should have, but I was almost afraid of using up any remaining energy. I felt I was nursing myself to the finish - which I needn't have because I'm sure I had some more racing left in me. All the same a little climb up the fells, the fun and technical trails past Blea Tarn and we hit the unmanned dibber before a short road section. The road really hurt and I couldn't wait to hit the climb up to Tilberthwaite aid.

After what seemed like an age we rounded the road towards the aid, Me, Mick and John locked together in a shared struggle. Just prior to the aid, Sally Fawcett (fellow Dark Peaker) came up behind us running in the 50 miler. A quick hello and mutual congratulations - she would finish 4th overall and 1st female in the 50 - and she went pretty much straight through the aid and onwards towards Coniston.

We dibbed in and got some food down our necks. I consciously topped up both my water bottles in my Salomon S-Lab Skin pack, although I didn't need to as I only consumed one on the way over.

Tilberthwaite to Consiton

With a tinge of sadness that my adventure was nearly over, yet the sheer relief and joy that I was so close to finishing. I donned my Salomon GTX jacket for the first time as my core temperature had dropped with our pace falling over the last section and the evening cooling rapidly. It was then up the now familiar steps of doom towards the final summit before the finish.

Mick and John dropped in and were happy to sit behind me here. We all discussed how painful the last descent was going to be with our respective ailments, but I really didn't care all that much just looking forward to finishing and seeing my family.

By the time we hit the top, some other 50 milers were coming past now, and I was told a couple of 100 milers were closing in strong too. And so it was, as we started limping, falling, sliding and cursing our way down the last descent a couple of 100 milers came flying past. I was envious of how well they were moving at this point, wondering if my knee, feet and previously unmentioned smashed quads were functioning better how a strong finish would have felt amazing. Instead as we reached the bottom of the the truly technical terrain onto a more runnable track, Debbie Martin-Consani came flying past shouting "Come on lads, where's your sprint finish". She was right of course, so with that I turned to Mick and John and told them we were finishing strong.

I set off, opening my stride, pain coursed through my body, but adrenaline was taking over. There was no way I was letting anyone else past us before the finish. It felt great to be truly sprinting into Coniston, moving like I hadn't in over 15-16 hours. I looked back and saw that Mick and John had fallen back, either unable or unwilling to give it one last blast for the line. So I just focussed on enjoying my finish, as I hit Coniston I even managed to turn down the wrong road - the local pub erupting into a chorus of "Noooo, you need to go over the bridge!" Ha ha, even this late on with less then 200 metres to go my navigation let me down!

Back on the right road, I first saw Stan waiting for me. He went mental at seeing me, cheering me on to keep sprinting. Then as I rounded onto Lake road I saw everyone else, my parents, Emma, the kids, friends, even a Dark Peak club mate shouting me in. The support at these events really keeps you moving during the hard times, but right now it was just the icing on the cake of a glorious finish in a distance I genuinely doubted I'd be able to complete.

Finishing strong

Spent and being congratulated by Emma

I dibbed in, 26 hours and 38 minutes for 19th place before walking into the event centre to the amazing applause that every 100 runner gets when they finish.

Adorning my new medal and happy to be finished running for the day

Some juice before the inevitable celebratory beer that'll finish me off no doubt

Catching up with some Dark Peak runners at the finish

Reflections

I'm pleased with my finish, but believe that had my knee not been damaged so early (85 miles from the finish!) and I hadn't taken as long in the aids at times I would have got much nearer a 24 hour finish time. Having said that I always knew 100 milers were conquered with lots of problem solving on the hoof, which I'd certainly done at times. They're also done well with strength, which of course can only be built up over time and patience. I'm keen to come back next year and take some time off my new PB, maybe throwing in a Bob Graham round in June to build some real strength.

The equipment I described on my previous blog worked well throughout. The clothes kept me cool and free from chaffing, and the Salomon S-Lab Sense Ultra's were protective enough underfoot despite 105 miles of sharp rocky trails. After a conversation with Marco Consani (last years winner) he advised me to try Drymax socks to prevent the wet foot issues I'd suffered as no shoes could have prevented that outcome.

Now time to recover and redevelop some fast leg speed for my next 50 miler...

Finally huge thanks to all the support from Salomon and Suunto. I'm proud to be an ambassador for such positive companies in the ultra running community.