Intro
Firstly let me apologise for the delay in getting this out. I did write it straight after the event but life took over and everything was put on hold whilst we came to terms with our 5 year old son being diagnosed with cancer. I’ve since re-read my post and I warn you now, it is a monster. You need something more sustaining to get you through this post so take 5, get yourself a brew and a snack before you start. For those not able to concentrate on an endurance blog post I have summarised it here:
My Lakeland 100 poem:
Mark was an ultrarunner full of Irish fun
He loved endurance challenges and hills so decided to run
In the Lakeland 100 or UTLD
Here is a poem about his journey
One morning in Late July he drove north for the race
He contemplated what it would take to run at the winning pace
With excitement and courage he toed the start line
Cheered on by his boys and wife by her side
Off he set on late Friday afternoon
He would be by Wast Water before he saw the moon
His fast pace saw him move up through night and day
Reaching top 50 which he held for the first 100k
As the heat of the sun came on day two
His pace was too quick and away his thoughts flew
Thinking about quitting, fighting his fear
‘Whose was this stupid idea last year?’
Onward up Fusdale in the sweltering heat
Pain from his blisters made him nearly retreat
But the thought of telling his boys he had failed
Was enough to spur him on without getting derailed
Just after Kentmere the hallucinations began
‘Wow, look a tattooed baby holding a beer can!’
With dancing monkeys and goblins along for the ride
He crested Garburn Pass and on down to Ambleside
His wife waited to see her zombie spouse arrive
And ushered him to the check point glad he was alive
Here, Mark had his first sleep to get straight
While his wife worried outside about her man’s fate…
Like a phoenix he rose after a sugary tea
And skipped (cough) across the park in the dark to climb up some more scree
Not put off by the rain or the pain or the strain
He ran and walked another night over the challenging terrain
Next up Chapel Stile which is a dangerous place
It’s too warm and cosy, an easy abode to retire from the race
His wife would be waiting at the finish line
So there was no way this sofa was keeping him supine
Blea Moss beckoned with a squelchy call
He ran and he walked and at times had to crawl
Nothing could stop him achieving his goal
He had the strength inside him to finish this stroll
The descent to Coniston hurt so much he cried
But onward he went with thoughts of his wife and boys by his side
On the road to John Ruskin he started to run
As he saw his wife waiting back where he’d begun
He finished the job 105 miles later
At times he thought he’d meet his creator
He thought he’d be stronger and better person you know
But instead he was transformed into a hobo!
(alternatively flick through the pictures pictures)
For everyone else… read on!
- courtesy of SportSunday
Thursday 25th July
Brotherly love
I had taken the day off work. It was the big day… It was my middle lads birthday, the big 05! We spent the day at Happy Mount Park, in Morecambe. What a great place! As well as the usual obstacle courses, swings, slides etc, there was a mini water park, the kids absolutely loved it. I had a great day out and it took my mind off any pre-race nerves. Those of you who have read my blog (and I know there’s at least one… more on that later!) will know that I subscribe to a low carb high fat lifestyle and as such the total of my carb loading was one slice of birthday cake! I carried a water bottle all day to keep hydrated but other than that it was a normal day. However once the kids were in bed everything changed…
SimpleMind+ (appropriately named!)
I started to get very nervous. I had packed my kit into bags the night before so I only had to load the car up tonight, I really didn’t want to be faffing about looking for things in the morning. My brain was rapidly turning to mush so I was glad to have my mind map checklist that I’d collected over the previous months to fall back on! It’s such a great tool for stuff like this. When I go out for a recce or run and think something works well, I can add it to this list without things getting messy. It can then be copied and adapted for other races. I’m not a lists person but I’d highly recommend it! By the time I’d had my tea I was almost walking in circles, going into a room and not remembering why I was in there… ‘Cool as a cucumber’ – NOT! This resulted in a poor nights sleep but that’s par for the course for me before a big race.
Race Day Morning
I was up early glad to be more excited than nervous. Any nervousness was more about not forgetting an important piece of kit rather than the race itself. I had an omelette with some toast (which isn’t usual for me- bad carbs!) washed down with plenty of fluid. I must have kissed and hugged Nicola and the kids three times each and off I went, heading north at about 9a.m. I was listening to various CD’s in the car but one song brought back memories and had me quite emotional. Nessun Dorma (Luciano Pavarotti), I had listened to this at 4a.m. 2 years previously, in a car park in Bolton, by Pennignton Flash, with my dad, before the start of Ironman UK. The memories of that day flooded back and I could feel today was even bigger, I just wished my dad was in the passenger seat again. I got quite emotional and excited and I hadn’t even reached the M6! (I was to have these emotions stirred by Nessun Dorma a little later…) I spent the rest of the drive up, calming myself down, channelling my excitement and positive thoughts into a positive outcome for the race. In hindsight I was overconfident, my thoughts were getting grander and grander… “Unknown Ulsterman wins the Lakeland 100…” I tried to control these thoughts and peg them back to “North West Doctor surprises himself with a top 10 finish in the Lakeland 100…” I spent the rest of the journey dragging my head back down from the stratosphere to settle on a primary goal of finishing and a stretch goal of sub 30 hours… Before I knew it I was in Coniston, greeted by a sign similar to that at the top of the page. This was it!
I only slept 45mins in this, hardly seems worth the effort!
I pitched up the tent in a perimeter spot and chatted to my neighbours. The chap on my right was doing his first 50 and was very excited.
these feet did not look like this after 105 miles
I grabbed my kit and registered. I weighed in a few kilos lighter than last year (65.6kg) and passed the kit check. I had my dibber attached to my arm and grabbed a bite of early lunch -hot pot. I then headed back to the tent for a rest. I didn’t sleep but lay down for a few hours and listened to a few podcasts. I wondered down the road and gave my dad a bell whilst dipping my feet in the cool stream. He reminded me of what an idjit (for those not from Norn’ Iron’: this is an Idiot, Person with an intellectual barrier blocking them from obtaining average intelligence) I was (he was right!). It was nice to get the encouragement from the old fella and I reminisced about our Ironman car journey 2 years previously. Then I phoned my wee bro who gave me his sensible advice about staying calm, take it easy and I’d be grand! After a bit more time-wasting Nicola and the two of our three boys arrived, our youngest stayed at home with Granny and Granddad. It was nice to see them and they were mega excited which took my mind off things in some respect but added to the tension in others… They’d made me signs which were class! It was the thought of them that pushed me through the tough times. I simply couldn’t let them down. They’d travelled the whole way up to see me off, I couldn’t go home and tell them ‘daddy didn’t finish’. Next up was the race briefing. The hall was packed and I brought Nicola and the boys in. A few others had brought their kids in. That’s one thing I love about this event, it is one big family and as long as it’s not causing an issue for other competitors, supporters are made to feel welcome. I wanted Nicola to get a feel for the challenge and really immerse herself in the atmosphere, which was tangible. The sense of excitement in the room was electric, I knew there was nowhere I’d rather be. After the briefing we spilled out into the campsite, I donned my racing gear (with assistance from daddy’s little helpers…) and got my pack sorted and the bladder filled. I dumped everything I could think of into my drop bag (which would be available at half way – Dalemain), covering every eventuality* (*note to self, keep additional blister plasters in drop bag – DOH!).
backpack
With bag packed I headed to the holding pen where we were gathered before dibbing (electronic timing system, using a dibber attached to my wrist which was registered by inserting it into a receiving device at each CP) out. I got another barrage of kisses and hugs from Nic and the boys and they took their places to wave me off. The anticipation rose as we organised ourselves at the start line, I dropped back a few places. Then Marc the race director played Nessun Dorma (the volume was too low to get the full emotional effect of this powerful tune but I appreciated it!) I took a few deep breaths and soaked up the atmosphere. Then the countdown, all the crowd joined in – 10,9,8…..2,1 and we were off on the blast of the air horn!
1. Coniston to Seathwaite
Distance between checkpoints: 11.3km (7miles)
Ascent: 659m (2162ft) Descent: 606m (1988ft)
“Holy shit” I whispered to myself as my legs started moving. This has been a year in the making… What will happen? Time would tell… I flew past Nic and the boys who all looked like startled rabbits as they waved, I shouted “I love you!” and I was swept up the road and into Coniston. The road was temporarily closed while we made our way through Coniston, the streets were lined with spectators cheering us off, I felt special, it was a great way to start the event! As we turned up the side of the Black Bull (great beer BTW) towards the Old Man the crowd noise was replaced by the sound of pattering feet broken with the occasional clink, clink, clink of trekking poles. It’s a gentle climb to the Miners Bridge and the field slowed to a fast walk uphill. A few of the super keen weaved past. Either they were good runners or stupid runners, time would sort that out, so we let them go… I set off at a pace which felt just brisker than leisurely. I would say I held a mostly aerobic pace with easy breathing. The first big climb was up to the ‘Walna Scar Pass’, it’s steep and twisty but if you take your time it’s not too technical under foot. I used my poles which helped me keep a decent rhythm. The issue with the first leg is the descent into Seathwaite. I knew this, yet my quads were still feeling the burn by the time I got to the bottom as we hit the Tarmac road. It’s not mega steep but its steep enough that you require some breaking and it’s long and relentless, there is no rest from the pounding. The trail gets more technical the closer you get to the Tarmac so it takes a lot out of you. I jogged the last mile or so to the CP along the undulating tarmac road taking on a bite of food and some fluid. The first CP was a bit of a whirlwind as I’d expected but with less urgency than the first CP of the 50 last year. In anticipation of the rush I’d filled my bladder at the start so wouldn’t need any fluid. I dibbed and grabbed a cup of water. I was in and out in less than 60 seconds. I chinned my water and disposed of the cup before heading back up the road. I had passed a handful of people in the CP.
2. Seathwaite to Boot
Distance covered so far: 22.4km (14.0 miles) Distance between checkpoints: 11.1km (7miles) Ascent: 385m (1263ft) Descent: 419m (1375ft)
I don’t like this leg, this will be the third time I’ve done it and I don’t like it. There’s a nasty little climb from Wallowbarrow Farm, a boring climb up through Grassguards (which is normally wet, but not on this occasion) then a sharp, technical descent to Penny Farm. The path By the River Esk seems to drag on. I felt ok and made good progress, even managing my first toilet stop of the few I had over the 105 miles. Once the ferns were watered I headed along the non-descript lane towards Boot. At this CP after dibbing in I filled my bladder with the berry flavoured SIS (I thought for some unknown reason this was blackcurrant cordial…). It tasted ok but I should have grabbed water, the taste was with me until Buttermere! Again I did not eat and ploughed on. I’d made up a few of the places in the CP that I’d lost whilst having a pee.
3. Boot to Wasdale Head
Distance covered so far: 31.0km (19.4 miles) Distance between checkpoints: 8.6km (5.4miles) Ascent: 297m (974ft) Descent: 287m (942ft)
I quite like this next leg, it passes quickly as it feels like its split into two. The climb up and around Burnmoor Tarn over typical barren, open fell, then the descent to Wasdale which feels very different, rocky with trees and a bit of tarmac for good measure. I was catching a large group in front but they took a right fork in the track before the small ruin which isn’t what the road book or map shows. I continued on what I felt was the proper path with that group moving along the flatter ground to my right side. Once over the summit, with the tarn in site I could see that both paths led to the same point. However the gap I was closing was now wide open again. I didn’t let it affect me and thought one of us has made a genuine mistake… (the difference was measured in yards not miles!). I eventually closed the gap before the descent to Wasdale. A quick mental full body scan suggested I was still in fine fettle. Other than barely perceptible tiredness in my quads, a remnant from the first leg descent to Seathwaite and my bladder top was digging into my back a bit, otherwise I was all good! The sun was setting, or more accurately had set over Wast Water, I stopped to rearrange my bladder and I was going to grab my camera but I abandoned that idea as the group I had caught was almost out of sight! The sky was a mixture of oranges and pinks, reflecting on the dark canvas of the lake. The rugged mountains on each side where like black shadows extending into the sky, it was breath-taking! I moved onto the CP, accompanied for the last mile or so by a pleasant chap who had got as far as Ambleside last year and DNF’d at 29 hours. He was already several hours up on his previous race split coming into Wasdale and feeling confident. I made a few places up on the final descent to the road and along the tarmac, it was getting dark but I didn’t stop to don my head torch as it was half a mile across a field to the next CP. What a treat the next CP was! I thought I was hallucinating… I had just walked into a full-on 70’s disco in full swing! The Sunderland Strollers had out done themselves. They’d put on a show that Saturday Night Fever would have been proud of! Glitter balls, the lot! I filled my bladder as I knew the next climb was a biggy… I had a half a cup of soup and a cup of coke. I was gone, picking up another few places leaving a few Ultra-dancers in my wake. I actually dropped my bite valve and tube from my hydration bladder on the floor of the cattle shed and decided Coke was a suitable disinfectant (seemed to work!).
4. Wasdale Head to Buttermere
Distance covered so far: 42.0km (26.3 miles) Distance between checkpoints: 11.0km (6.9miles) Ascent: 712m (2336ft) Descent: 667m (2188ft)
Personally I find this climb the longest, it feels longer than the drag out of Howtown (that was yet to come). Even though I now know that I pushed a little too hard (retrospect is wonderful). It was pitch black by now and I tagged onto the back of a group who were moving at a strong walking pace uphill and jogging any flat bits (there weren’t many!). I crossed at the boulders over Gatherstone Beck, the water was nice and low, and proceeded to climb the winding path which had intermittent steps (I use that term very loosely). I was using poles again, more for the rhythm than assistance but they were helping. Psychologically this climb is made tougher because there’s the thought of a very nasty descent and then a further climb and equally horrible descent before the next CP. The highlight of the leg was the view, not the fabulous view of the valley (which is awesome in the daylight) but I saw something I had never seen before. As I looked back down the valley I could see the train of bobbing head torches laid out behind me. The train was clearly visible from Wasdale the whole way up the trail. The trail of torches extended back to those descending toward Wast water also. In effect there was a long trail of bobbing lights extending down one side of the valley and back up the other. It was magical! After an hour or so we reached the summit, then there’s the ball breaking, foot smashing, quad bashing, ankle turning descent from Black Sail Pass. It’s tricky enough in the day light but at night its twice as hard. Because you can only look at the ground at your feet it’s hard to pick out a route. If you look ahead at all you are likely to trip, stumble, or fall. Several parts are scrambling/ sliding down rocks on your arse. It’s truly terrifying at times. Once you’ve navigated your way through this the terrain flattens out into a grassy descent that would normally be welcome… however after trashing your legs on the technical section they really don’t want to be wrung within an inch of their existence by running downhill at pace (braking was even more painful). Adding to the challenge was the flat light that head torches tend to give off not allowing you to properly assess the hollows and bumps on the grassy surface which causes jarring and tripping as you misinterpret your next step. Phew… I got to the bottom and walked a little to allow my legs to recover. I swigged on my homemade gel (honey, blackstrap molasses, chia seeds, watermelon and salt – tastes no worse than gels and I had no stomach issues!) and munched on my homemade (by Mrs J) peanut Cliff-type bar. I took on some water because it was really hot! My reward for getting over Black Sail Pass was another climb up to Scarth Gap! This climb is gentler and shorter (relative to the last one!) but it was getting really warm. Sweat was just constantly dripping off my nose, my clothes were soaked though and there wasn’t a breath in the air. As I climbed I kept getting distracted by what I thought was someone elses head torch to my right… It turns out it was the moon. It wasn’t full but it was clear and very bright. It caught me out several times as I moved out-of-the-way on various trails during the night to let the owner of the head torch pass when it turned out to be the moon! As the climb flattens the path disappears, everything just looks grey underfoot with the flat light given off by the head torch but I knew roughly what direction to head in. I regained the path and caught the runners in front just before another horribly technical, rocky descent that requires some navigation or you’ll miss the gap in the wall and end up off course. My legs still felt ok so I was confident as I hopped from rock to rock. There wasn’t any scrambling here but it’s slow going. I managed to hit the gap in the wall with the runner in front and continued to descend the path towards Buttermere. I let loose a little here and took advantage of gravity to make up time on a group of 5 runners in front. I caught and passed them, playing a little cat and mouse on the rolling trail into the next CP. I chatted briefly with the chap at the front of the pack as we gained a bit of ground on the others. We ran the whole way into the CP and I was feeling great. Much better than when I did the official recce in January. Back then it took me 8 hours to get to this point, on race day it took me 6:20 and it felt much easier. I grabbed a cup of tea and refilled my bladder. I was feeling fresh and strong
5. Buttermere to Braithwaite
Distance covered so far: 52.5km (32.8 miles) Distance between checkpoints: 10.5km (6.5miles) Ascent: 573m (1880ft) Descent: 613m (2011ft)
Another solid climb which starts gently, nipping in and around a few Becks’ with the occasional very steep, but short pull before I got to the scree and a more sustained drag up the side of Scar Crags. It’s a narrow path and not best suited to my Hoka shoes (the footprint is too big) or poles (for that matter). I really had to concentrate here because a trip would have seen me rolling down a fairly steep drop to my right. My attention was grabbed on more than one occasion by a light in the distance off to my right. It was an amber colour and seemed to be floating. I put it down to being one of those Chinese lanterns, I didn’t have time for UFOs… Once I crested the summit I knew what I was in for. It’s a long downhill, Technical at first with a steep scree drop to the left (the path unhelpfully slants in that direction also) a flatter section (albeit rocky), a short uphill before a grassy blast downhill. The initial section was fine, I kept my eyes trained on the inside of the path (you tend to fall in the direction you’re looking and I didn’t want to disappear off to the left!) and managed to put some distance between me and the chasing group. As the path flattened out I had to concentrate on not tripping whilst maintaining some speed (which is tricky in the flat light produced by the head torch). I hit the left fork and climbed over Barrow Door (I saw a few runners who had ascended too early and would go the wrong side of Stile End but should end up in the same place and they were out of earshot), before descending rapidly down the single track which widens into a grassy slope. Again this wasn’t as easy in the dark, the grass was thin but long in places and gave a false perception of where the firm ground lay and caused me to trip more than once. I arrived into Braithwaite, still feeling fresh(ish)… The last section had increased the discomfort in my feet and I was in half a mind to check them (hindsight suggests it would have been wise… lesson learnt!). The CP was very warm and inviting, the sort of temperature that would invite sleep and relaxation. One competitor was asleep in the corner, I assumed they had pulled out as they were wrapped up in a blanket. Others were making the most of the hospitable environment and relaxing. It was about 2:15 am and I didn’t want to get to comfortable. I grabbed a coke, a bowl of rice pudding and I was off again.
6. Braithwaite to Blencathra Centre
Distance covered so far: 66.2km (41.3 miles) Distance between checkpoints: 13.7km (8.5miles) Ascent: 478m (1568ft) Descent: 305m (1001ft)
I’d been looking forward to this section. I’d recced it twice. One of these, I’d walked with Nicola earlier in the year and I had happy memories to draw on of a picnic in the field and a great day out. The initial run is along the road, which felt bizarre after running on the trail for so long. Then we joined the old railway track, part of which went through a graveyard (not the nicest of experiences at 2:30am in the morning in the pitch black…). Then we climbed up onto the Cumbrian Way. I followed a path along one side of Glenderatera Beck, up the valley and returned back down the other side. It’s reasonably straight forward but I was aware of another sheer drop on my right side as I went up the Valley. I walked a lot more than I thought I would have done in this leg, my feet were annoying me and I was cursing myself for not checking them at Braithwaite. This was a double whammy because my feet were hurting and psychologically I’d been looking forward to this section and it wasn’t meeting my expectations. This was probably the start of the downward spiral which saw me struggle later. On reflection it was the negative thinking that overwhelmed everything else. I dibbed at the most Northerly point of the route and made my way back down the other side of the valley after crossing the Beck. The descent is much simpler on an open gravel path which rolls along nicely. I teamed up with a chap who was also doing the 100 for the first time. If my memory serves me correctly he also had three kids, slightly older than my brood. We shared conversation the whole way to the next CP. I managed a run/ walk but my foot pain was worsening. At the climbing centre (which was very quiet, the least enjoyable CP of the race, it really lacked atmosphere) I parted ways with my companion as I wanted to look at my feet. I had a cup of tea and extracted my feet from my shoes. Oops- I’d left it too late. I had a big blister on my right big toe, a smaller one on my left. A blister on the outside of my left heel and the skin over both Achilles was red-raw. 5 blister plasters later, held in place with my Injinji socks I felt better but was aware that I had used all my plasters in one go! (another lesson learnt – leave blister plasters in drop bag). I’m not sure why I suffered so much. I’ve run in these shoes with no blister issues on similar terrain covering 30-40 miles at a time. There were a few things that I can think of though:
- ‘newish’ socks – I had Hilly Twin Skin socks (ironically – anti blister). I had trained in these but not long miles as I was saving them for the race….
- the socks slipped down leaving my heel exposed to the rub, I didn’t see this because I was wearing debris gaiters
- It was hot and my feet didn’t dry out because of continual sweating
- I hadn’t eaten enough and nutrition can be a factor
what will I do next time:
- practice pre-taping
- re-read Fixing Your Feet (John Vonhof)
- change socks more often in hot conditions
- get above ankle socks
- double check adequate nutrition
- keep spare blister plasters in my drop bag
- train even more specifically (hills and rough terrain)
7. Blencathra Centre to Dockray
Distance covered so far: 78.5km (49.0 miles) Distance between checkpoints: 12.3km (7.7miles) Ascent: 417m (1368ft) Descent: 252m (827ft)
I was now feeling sorry for myself…I knew I had blisters which was a psychological and physical blow. I started to notice the other things like tiredness in my legs (which was mere background noise beforehand) and it was gnawing at me now. I walked out of the CP, turned off my head torch as daylight had broken and caught the two runners in front. I tagged along with them as we made our way back onto and along the Old Railway track. I listened rather than took part in their conversation for the first few miles. As we crossed under the A66, I spoke. I thanked them for dragging me along the track. They were both experienced runners. One chap had done the Grand Union Canal Race (approx 150 miles) and the other lad had done the Bob Graham Round (twice!). I think he was called Tom, I’d see him again later… We parted ways as they were able to climb faster up to the Old Coach Road. My feet were really annoying me and the pain was slowly consuming my energy. My heels really hurt on the climbs so I was taking baby steps (Remembering some similar terminology in a Dean Karnazes book). However as we made our way along the Old coach Road (Road is a term used very, very loosely – other than a very capable 4×4 there aren’t many vehicles that could pass along it) the sun was up and spewing fabulous orange and pink all over the cloudless sky, burning off the mist that clung to the fell side and lifting my spirits. I used this lift to push on and I got into a nice run walk rhythm, overtaking my two comrades from the disused railway track section and a few others that had passed me by at the last CP. Not really of much interest but we passed a dead sheep on the road that absolutely stank! I’m glad it wasn’t dark as this is not a trip hazard I would like to have stumbled upon… I could hear the Dockray CP before I could see it with music and cow bells. The volunteers had obviously been having fun with a few half empty beer bottles scattered about and bacon sarnies on the go (not for us unfortunately!). I saw about 5-6 runners in a group coming in behind so I downed a tea and a cheese and pickle sandwich (not the most appetising breakfast) and ran (yes ran) out of the CP. I should reflect more on the potentially negative consequences of my competitive spirit can have in long endurance races, I must run (or walk) my own race!
8. Dockray to Dalemain
Distance covered so far: 94.8km (59.1 miles) Distance between checkpoints: 16.3km (10.1miles) Ascent: 370m (1214ft) Descent: 638m (2093ft)
There was a short downhill road section which was fine. It hurt my feet but my legs felt strong enough, even on the downhills. Then I made my way along Aira Force, which is a technical section by a waterway through some trees, before it opens out onto Gowbarrow Fell with the most beautiful view of Ullswater and the mountains beyond. I stopped to put my sunglasses on as the sun was getting strong now and as I contoured and climbed I got hotter and sorer. Following the climb there is, what would normally be described as, a nice runnable, rolling path through Swinburn’s Park which is a small forested area . It was here that I discovered I had another blister on the underside of my right big toe. I stamped my right foot down trying to burst the blister on the downhills and it was like someone sticking a needle into my toe with every foot strike. Negativity strikes again… The chap who was behind me caught me up and I ran with him for a few miles. Conversataion always seems to settle on things we have in common. I have a young family and I like running… So do many of those I’m competing with… He had one young child (2-year-old I think) and we chatted about running, family, kids etc. It was really nice to pass the time with him and he certainly spurred me on to running the downhills and flat section (mostly on road) but it hurt. I was definitely feeling it in my feet and legs. I finally gave in and suggested he would make better progress on his own as we entered the Dalemain estate. I phoned home, in need of inspiration and to share my problems. Other racers can empathise but I just wanted someone to listen to my list of problems rather than mirroring what I said. I didn’t need empathy, I thought I needed someone to listen and then drop in a bit of sympathy for good measure. I think I was also looking for endorsement from someone that I was going to deviate from my plan and slow down dramatically. In hindsight I actually needed someone to tell me to pull my socks up (literally and metaphorically, as it happened), stop feeling sorry for myself and dig deeper! Understandably, what I got when I phoned home was the approval to slow down, sympathy and encouragement. It was nice to speak to Nicola and the kids and they are a massive part of why I continued but psychologically I had received the permission to slow down. In my head I had the rubber stamp to throw plan A and B out the window and instate plan C- just finish (although ‘just’ isn’t an apt word as a finish is a massive achievement in itself). I’m not sure if a kick up the ass would have changed the outcome but I do know that after Dalemain I was in a different frame of mind. The next CP at 59 miles is well over half way. This is where we can access our drop bags and I had planned to take a few minutes here (turned out to be about 20). I sat down (for only the second time) and got my shoes off to assess the damage. Laura from SportsSunday Photography was organising everyone. She welcomed you, got the support you needed and then kicked you out when she thought you were getting too comfortable. The CP staff again couldn’t do enough. I had a bowl of meat stew and a coke. The Doctor drained my blisters and the nurses strapped them up. Whilst the Doc was grabbing his needle and syringe this pic was taken:
As you can see this is the famous toe that has featured in my Blog on several occasions. Even without a nail it’s causing me problems! (note to self – tape this bugger up in future!)
9. Dalemain to Howtown
Distance covered so far: 106.3km (66.2 miles) Distance between checkpoints: 11.5km (7.1miles). Ascent: 294m (965ft) Descent: 285m (935ft)
This was the beginning of the end… I got up from my seat feeling ok and walked out of Dalemain, I continued to walk across the next field and the next and the next. It was then that I realised I couldn’t run. The combination of pain in both feet, drained legs and negative feelings removed any ability to run. It was if someone had sneaked up at Dalemain and extracted my last remaining remnants of positivity and I was resigned to the fact that I was in for a very long walk. There wasn’t much to change my mind either, I was having the conversations with myself but they all ended up with the fact I had time on my side and I would be able to walk it back to Ambleside. It was about 10am by now and getting hot. I was dipping my Buff in every stream and puddle to cool myself down. I was joined for a time by the chap whom I’d run along the old railway with (Bob Graham x2 bloke). He was happy to walk a bit and jog a bit, I would rather have just walked… He told me he was a personal trainer and took people on outdoor adventure breaks. Normally I’d imagine that to be the type of job I’d like to do but today I was less than enthusiastic. What surprised me was he didn’t know the course and wanted to tag along. I would have thought that someone who navigated and had spent a lot of time recceing the BGR would have been confident enough to use the map and road book to plough on solo. But he wanted to tag along with someone, I explained that I wasn’t the person, I was moving too slow to be considered his partner and I was going to have some battles ahead that I needed to face alone. I managed to jog the last few hundred yards into the CP and sat down again. I had a brew and chatted to the CP people. A lady asked “is anyone called Mark?” – “me, why?” I replied. She asked me did I have two little boys and a wife called Nicola that were at the start. Apparently she’d got chatting at the start line where everyone was waving us off. She said how well behaved the boys were and that she liked their signs they’d made for daddy. This was all I needed to get my ass out of the chair and keep going (unbeknown to me I’d held a top 50 place until this point!)
10. Howtown to Mardale Head
Distance covered so far: 121.5km (75.6 miles) Distance between checkpoints: 15.2km (9.4miles) Ascent: 765m (2510ft) Descent: 672m (2205ft)
so true
To my mind this is one of the toughest legs of the race, it is not made any easier if your feet are trashed, you’ve not slept for 24+hours, your legs are sore and you’re feeling a bit negative about the fact you’ve still got 30 miles to walk with several large climbs (and it’s getting hotter!). The climb up Fusdale was slow and painful, with a false summit and the same distance to climb again, once you reach that point it really isn’t nice… I had thought at several points of the climb I couldn’t continue but the thought of walking back to Howtown didn’t fill me with joy either. I chatted away to myself, the reasons to continue were as follows:
- I did not want to do this again (if I DNF’d I’d have no choice…)
- I had sponsorship and support for this event and I couldn’t let those people, who believed in me, down
- My wife and kids have supported me for 12 months, they cheered me off and Nicola would be there to watch me finish. I couldn’t let them down.
I reasoned with myself. I was in a world of pain as I climbed but my head was still thinking straight and I knew I was not in any danger. Pain is temporary- Once I got onto the top I headed over High Kop and Low Kop, being overtaken by a few 100 competitors, most of whom checked I was alright. The camaraderie of this event is amazing, everyone looks out for each other. After working my way along the top I descended to the side of Haweswater. The path is normally one of my favourite bits, it’s a single track, slightly technical but very runnable. Not today, it was a PITA (pain in the arse). The 50 runners began to stream by which meant frequent stops to get out of their way, it was single track so I had no option but to keep stopping. That said the encouragement they gave me was uplifting and never tiresome. Just before Mardale an ex-rugby colleague passed me sporting the obligatory ultra runners beard. I give Al a quick summary of my world of pain, told him he looked strong and wished him well. He ended up with a great time and a fantastic run. It was 3:15 pm by the time I got to Mardale Head TBH I was feeling a little better as I sat down to a coke and some soup (tomato I think). I saw one of the other 100 runners carb-unloading (vomiting) so I was glad I didn’t have that to worry about. I had had some nausea over the last few hours but I had some stem ginger sweets which relieved it every time (part of my plan that actually worked!).
11. Mardale Head to Kentmere
Distance covered so far: 131.9km (82.1 miles) Distance between checkpoints: 10.4km (6.5miles) Ascent: 511m (1677ft) Descent: 589m (1932ft)
The next climb out of Mardale is a b@st@rd! There’s no nice way of putting it. However on this occasion I quite enjoyed it. No-one was particularly pulling away from me, there’s only one speed to do this – slowly. Even the 50 runners weren’t putting much time on little ol’ me! So it levelled the playing field a little, that was until we hit the steep descent! Last time I ran this was in June and with fresh legs you can really belt down it. In my current state it was made extremely, extremely unpleasant! My feet and legs were screaming for me to stop but I didn’t, I kept pushing on, almost in tears at times due to the pain. I kept thinking about a fruit smoothie at Kentmere, it kept me going… I’m sorry if I keep writing about how sore it was but you’ll be glad to hear it eventually evened out to numb dull ache with occasional sharp stabbing (mainly in my feet)! My head was still reasonably clear, I was making good decisions with what was available to me and I had a plan – don’t give up! I was still returning complements to the 50 runners as they wished me well and encouraging me… “looking strong Dave”, “keep it up Sarah” etc. The comments and encouragement from the 50 runners in particular was motivating. I remember when I did the 50 last year I didn’t know if I sounded condescending by shouting encouragement at the 100ers but I can tell you from the other side it is a massive boost and never got on my nerves. There was a point where they only got a grunt in response but that was not due to my lack of appreciation (I think I’d probably forgot how to speak by then!). As it stood I was still relatively chirpy. I arrived in Kentmere and was greeted by friend, ex-colleague and fellow Ultra Junkie – Tim- who was voluteering for the day. He was a welcome sight. Like all the other CP staff he made me feel welcome and coudn’t do enough to help me. I had my fruit smoothy (banana) and a bowl of pasta with salt++, washed down with a glass of coke. What was great about seeing Tim was he is an experienced Ultra runner (many of the other CP staff probably are too but I didn’t know them) and he’s been in my shoes. I explained my issues and he listened, he also gave me some sound advice, telling me I had broken the back of it, I was almost there and I was capable of finishing, no question of doubt! It wasn’t quite a kick up the arse but it was a well delivered prep talk that really picked me up. He told me he expected me to finish between 3-4 am (which if I hadn’t have slowed and slept at a few CPs he would have been about right). By now it was about 6pm and I could just about get my head around walking for another 9-10 hours.
12. Kentmere to Ambleside
Distance covered so far: 143.7km (89.4 miles) Distance between checkpoints: 11.8km (7.3miles) Ascent: 491m (1611ft) Descent: 602m (1975ft)
I say just about… what I really mean is that I spent most of the next climb trying to convince myself that I could keep going for another 9-10 hours but I gave up trying and focused on getting to the next CP. This climb is similar in my head to the first climb of the race, up Walnar Scar. It’s twisty and steep in places. Just as I reached the summit I decided to phone Nicola, I needed to ask her to bring some things to the finish before my head turned to mush, I could feel the brain fog approaching. I was trying to tell her I needed dressings for my feet and some warm clothes. I ruined her surprise, she wasn’t at home (where I assumed she’d be) she was waiting in Ambleside!! I picked up the pace to a slow shuffle (from very slow shuffle) and it started to rain. There was a rumble or two of thunder, initially I thought it was a helicopter (turns out it probably was both as the helicopter had to come in and lift someone from Mardale with a head injury). The next section was downhill so my shuffle sped up slightly. Two things of note on the descent to Troutbeck. First-up I had the most unique shout from a 50 runner of the day (called Barrie – my mind couldn’t have been that bad as I remember his name, Barrie with an ‘ie’ rather than a ‘y’- unless I’m wrong…). He shouted “Ultrun” (the name of my blog), he’s the one person that reads this waffle! I knew there was someone other than me that reads my blog- and I met him!! He asked me how my nutrition strategy was working out. I said the Chia seed and honey home made gel was going down a treat! We had a nice chat for a few minutes and it gave me another boost, how nice that someone recognised me (so this is what fame feels like). The second thing that happened was the hallucinations started. As I looked at the ground I kept seeing coins, not just any old coins but Roman coins (or so I thought, I’m not really sure how I knew they were Roman, I’m no coin expert but I didn’t question the historical period from when my discoveries had come from…), I regulalrly bent over or even picked them up, alas they were simply ’roundish’ flat stones. Then I saw the weirdest graffiti on a dry stone wall. It was a baby, side on, posing doing an arm curl, fist raised up to it’s chin, showing off his ‘anchor tattoo’ which was over his right bulging bicep. I was aware enough to realise it wasn’t a real baby but I was bamboozled by the fact someone would come the whole way up here to do such impressive, albeit slightly bizzare subject matter, graffiti! I went right over to touching distance of the wall before I realised it was stones and moss. This continued for the rest of the race. I saw, Goblins, dragons, rabid dogs, children, monkeys and Roman coinage everywhere. I couldn’t look at anything for long before I’d see an animal or shape or something. I wasn’t scared by them, occasionally they made me jump but they were just there. I gave up trying to get close to see what was real and what wasn’t. I just looked at it and seconds later my eyes would be drawn to the next ‘two-headed monkey walking a dog’. It was just how it was and there wasn’t much I could do to change it. Once I got to Troutbeck I perked up a litle as I ascended Robin Lane. My Mate Steve (AKA Gorny) passed me, I had wondered how long it would take for Gorny to catch me. I had hoped that I’d be in the sports hall to welcome him back but that went out the window after Dalemain! It was good to see him, we had a brief chat whilst I stumbled along, he was almost bouncing like an over keen dog that wants you to throw a Frisbee for it to chase. I could sense his eagerness to get on. I wished him well and he bounded up the hill, passing people as he went. I remember thinking how glad I was he was still enjoying it but I also remember thinking why was he running uphill – I’m sure I’d shared my opinion that uphills were for walking… Regardless he went on to finish in an impressive time and enjoyed the whole thing with little or no problems (not many can claim that). The rest of the descent to Ambleside was slow and painful. Through Skelghyll Wood was particularly difficult as it was slippy and slippyness just caused me more pain! It was fast approaching dusk and my body wanted to go to sleep, my mind was fully occupied with moving forwards and I had no spare capacity to think about food, drink, clothing or anything that one competing an endurance race should think about. I knew where I was going and it wasn’t far to the next CP. I shuffled into Ambleside, not even able to break into a pretend jog to the enthusiastic cheers and clapping from onlookers, I just kept putting one foot in fornt of the other. As I passed down the Slack (the small road under the archway) I remember one lady saying “if only his mother could see him”. As I passed the fish ‘n’ chip shop I heard a familiar voice screaming from the other side of the road “come on baby, you can do it”. It was from my wife. She had been there for hours (I’d dropped very behind my schedule) waiting for me. I was so glad to see her. I’ve since watched the few seconds of video she got of me and I looked a mess! Anyway she walked the last hundred yards to the Ambleside CP with me. I’m sure she was shocked to see me in this state but I heard nothing but praise and encouragement. She was so positive and to be honest I’m pleasantly surprised on reflection. She had stood in the pouring rain for hours waiting for me, to then see me look like a zombie in a world of pain, practically unresponsive with a Glasgow Coma Scale of 11/15. Yet she asked me only once was I ok to continue. She completely supported what I was doing and she knew what I wanted/ needed. She deposited me at the CP, there is also a video clip of me going up the stairs to the CP- it’s funny, I pull myself up the hand rail! Then my world collapsed into a small circle about 2 ft in diameter and I just stared into it. I’d sat down at the CP with a coke. I was just looking at the polystyrene cup. I didn’t really know what to do. I wasn’t especially nauseous, it was as if I’d forgotten how to drink. I was aware that it would be night and I needed to change my head torch batteries but I had no idea how to. I couldn’t even work out the first step (it would have been to get the afore mentioned torch out of by rucksack!). I just wanted to lie down. I walked over to one of the CP staff and explained I needed to lie down. He escorted me behind a board (or folded table tennis table- I’m not sure what it was). I just lay on the floor, in the foetal position. Sometime later (I understand it was about 15 minutes) Nicola came and peaked round the corner. She came and sat down. She was more concerned that her being there would get me in trouble. TBH at that point I didn’t care. The extremely understandable staff let her in to check I was ok. The awesome staff then got me a cup of sweet tea (the emergency drink for any Ultra runner, or anyone in bother TBH). After my second cup and a few paracetamol with a 10 minute sleep, I was good to go. I felt much better and was all of a sudden able again. I changed my batteries, chucked a few more plasters on my feet (gathered from a helpful donor) and I was vertical.
13. Ambleside to Chapel Stile
Distance covered so far: 152.7km (95.0 miles) Distance between checkpoints: 9.0km (5.6miles)
Ascent: 234m (768ft) Descent: 213m (699ft)
As I got to the door of the CP I realised it was pitch black and raining heavily. I slipped on my coat and switched on my head torch as I limped to the gents, pee still looked yellow rather than orange in the torch light. I said my farewell and Nic gave me several big hugs (I probably didn’t smell so good but she didn’t seem to mind). I sorted myself out so that by head torch was protected at the front from the torrential rain with the peek of my cap and the rear battery back was covered with my hood. This worked well. I know they are waterproof-‘ish’ but I wasn’t for field testing it’s ability tonight! The last thing I needed was to be stranded on a fell in the pissing rain in the pitch black! I shuffled across Rothay Park (apparently I was taking the long route as I wasn’t quite managing to walk in a straight line) and I was off up the next climb. This section is relatively ok. A few up and down (nothing crazy). The first section in the dark (of night two!) revealed that my hallucinations were getting more vivid and grander. It was relatively straightforward to Skelwith Bridge but then I got a little confused as I went round the start of the River Brathay and Elterwater. I have yet to enjoy this flat section. Last year in the 50 I was blighted by nausea. This year I was already moving slowly but was constantly distracted because I thought I was lost. My hallucinations were not helping! I saw Power Stations, Lifeboats, beaches, buidings that looked like they were part of an industrial estate. It was very disconcerting and slowed my pace right down as I continually checked and thought I was off course (incidentally this is the easiest part of the course to navigate, there is only one well marked, easy to follow track – The Cumbrian Way…). I only believed I was in the right place a few miles later when I reached the car park at Main Street, before the bridge and road to the quarry. I then proceeded to get lost by the quarry in the wooded area before crossing the footbridge. I couldn’t find the bloody footbridge! After stumbling over tree roots and rocks, knee deep in water at times I found and crossed the bridge to Wainwrights Inn. I was nearly there, one short uphill and then across a few fields to the oasis that is the Chapel Stile CP. Just before the CP there was two girls, I assume from the campsite, standing with umbrellas in the pissing rain, cheering us on. I thanked them for their enthusiasm, it was about 1:15am. I’m assuming they’d had a few (why else would they be cheering on a bunch of lunatics at stupid o’clock!) or perhaps I now had auditory and visual hallucinations! I was relieved to reach the CP. It was as good as I remember. I had tea, some type of stew/soup, more tea and a sleep. I set my alarm for 2am, giving me 20 minutes on the sofa (yes sofa! not really fair to have a sofa after 95 miles of running and then expect you to get moving again). I was cold. I’d already put my waterproof trousers on and my buff under my cap. I slept, bolt upright for 20 minutes. My alarm woke me and I was still cold so I had another cup of tea before I moved. The CP is in a marquee so you can hear the rain beating on the canvas. It’s the cosy feeling of camping when you want to ‘snuggle up’ with your loved one. I looked across at three of my fellow competitors sprawled on the other sofas, wrapped in blankets. They had called it a day and retired. The thought passed my mind as the rain got louder, pitter pattering on the roof. But I thought of my wife who had been at Ambleside and I knew she was at the finish. I had almost 8 hours to cover 10 miles. I had no excuse! After suffering as I had to get this far, I really wanted that medal and T-shirt and I was not going to give up.
14. Chapel Stile to Tilberthwaite
Distance covered so far: 163.3km (101.5 miles) Distance between checkpoints: 10.6km (6.5miles) Ascent: 387m (1270ft) Descent: 323m (1060ft)
To me, this section always feels longer than 6.5 miles. Tonight I would take it to new levels of feeling long. As I left the last CP I was following a group of mixed 100 and 50 runners (having read Nick Ham’s report I think this was his band of merry men) I was able to stay in touch with them for a mile or so and I could see their head torches as they bobbed out of sight towards the foot of Side Pike pass. The rain was teaming down by now and anything that had been a path was now a stream and anything that was a Beck was a small river. Stepping stones had been submerged, it was generally the wettest conditions I had run in. This didn’t particularly bother me, I had much bigger problems, my body was cold but my feet felt hot because of the pain in them so in some ways the water was soothing… I pushed on across fields and over stiles (BTW they should be banned in 100 mile events), as I swung my leg over the top of each stile I’d get cramp in my hamstrings… FFS could it get any worse? Just before Side Pike there’s a tricky section through a marsh before you get to the climb. Unusually I stumbled upon the best possible route through the marsh. I stayed high and it was relatively simple (the other 4 times I’ve passed this way I’ve almost lost a shoe it’s that sticky)! Side Pike is very steep, in zombie-like fashion I followed the twisting trail, not cutting any corners, even if it made sense to do so, with my hands pushing on my quads. I concentrated on one foot in fornt of the other until I got to the summit. Tripping over rocks as I trudged upwards. Then down past Blea Tarn to go onto the tricky, rocky section over to and then across Blea Moss. The path here is unclear and the overgrowth of bracken hid the obvious route, sometimes I was on the path other times I was following sheep trods and other times I was making a new path. The bracken also disguised holes, rocks and puddles so I fell more than once and swore too many times to count but I made it to Blea Moss. I stayed high in the bracken line but still managed to go knee deep in the bog. I didn’t care and I made it to the unmanned dibber, bleep-bleep and I was off again down the tarmac road. The slow section clambering over rocks had really cooled me down and I was shivering. The next mile or so is downhill and then flat. I couldn’t run to warm up so I ended up swinging my arms, shaking my hands and shadow boxing (I’m sure it didn’t look like that’s what I was doing, but I was doing anything I could think of to get warm – in fact if a member of the public saw me they would have phoned the police to have me locked up – I looked like some sort of crazy lunatic). It was light again by now which lifted me slightly but I was cold to the core and slightly worried, worried by the thought that I just wanted to get in my Bivy bag and curl up under some ferns and sleep. I knew that would be a bad idea but it seemed very appealing. I was grateful for the next climb as it stopped me shivering, but before I knew it, I was making the descent one step at a time to Tilberthwaite, in pain and shivering again… I needed to sort myself out, although I didn’t really know how to do that. I could feel another Ambleside coming on, my field of vision was again narrowing and my mind had run out of ideas. I shuffled along the road to the CP and sat down. I was thankful that someone else did my thinking for me. I said I was cold and the helpful CP volunteer wrapped me in two foil blankets and gave me two cups of tea. I nodded off for about 10 minutes (maybe 20, I didn’t think to set my alarm). When I woke I felt much better, I had another cup of tea to enable be to remove the foil blankets and I was ready for the off. I was asked several times was I ok to continue? I knew I was and I wanted that medal and to see Nicola more than ever.
15. Tilberthwaite to Coniston
Final distance covered: 169.0km (105.0 miles) Distance between checkpoints: 5.7km (3.5miles) Ascent: 283m (928ft) Descent: 385m (1263ft)
I walked out of the CP to the base of the infamous Tilberthwaite steps. The first step was too big for my trashed quads to contemplate taking in the traditional way, so I deployed the mantra I’ve secretly being using all along, but this time I settled for the option 3 CRAWL!
“If you can’t run, then walk.
And if you can’t walk, then crawl.
Do what you have to do.
Just keep moving forward
and never, ever give up.”
~Dean Karnazes
So I mounted the first step on all fours and pulled myself up. I kept moving forwards step by step, passed the quarry and up and round to the summit of the final climb. I even managed to jump over the stream (by the single tree) as there were no stepping stones there after the torrential rain. I made it to the top and even if I had to roll down to Coniston I was going to make it. That final descent is tough, even on fresh legs, I have exhausted my vocabulary and couldn’t do it justification, even if I had the words to describe how painful this descent was. There wasn’t an inch of my body that wasn’t feeling it. I was passed by about 10 fellow 100 competitors on this final stretch, I was barely moving forward but I wasn’t going to let the pain stop me (even if it had slowed me to a snail’s pace). Once I got onto the miners road I got chatting to three 50 competitors. I have no idea what we said to each other but I know it was all patting each other on the back stuff. They urged me to hang back so I could enjoy the moment of entering the school. I “let” them jog on as we rounded the corner onto Lake Road. I could just make out Nicola, a few hundred yards down the road, waiting at the finish and I broke into a jog (this was the fastest I’d moved since before Howtown). I was overwhelmed with emotion and relief. I hugged and dibbed simultaneously. With a beep I was done. Alongside Nicola was John Kynaston (made famous by his excellent YouTube videos of the Lakeland 100 route – of which I watched many times). I later learnt that John had kept Nicola company as she waited for hours in the cold for my arrival. The welcome I got from John was amazing, i can’t thank him enough for his genuine appreciation and he made me feel like I’d won!
The Finish
Next up was the welcome from my fellow competitors back into the school hall. I was announced as “100 finisher” and the place erupted. The benefit to my struggle was it was breakfast time when I finished so the canteen and hall were packed and I got a very warm and much appreciated welcome back to Coniston. I had my dibber cut off me and I picked up my CP split times and my well-earned medal and T-shirt. I’m welling up as I type this. That medal and T-shirt mean a lot to me (TBH all my race medals, even Ironman UK, are in the kids toy boxes, but this one will be framed). I pushed beyond my mental and physical limits and surpassed what I thought was possible for me. I started this race, massively underestimating how deep I would have to dig and I have emerged a different person.
Before – Ultrarunner
I now know that I can achieve anything I want to.
I don’t think I am special,
“I just choose to do today what others won’t, so tomorrow I can do what others can’t”
I finished this thanks to the support of my wife and 3 boys, without whom I wouldn’t have even made the start line. Thank you x
The Aftermath
MY CP times
post race kit
How to get down stairs after 100
it was worth it!
If you’ve made it to the end, thank you, you deserve a medal too!
please share my story if you feel inclined.
Thanks
Mark
Ultrun's Blog 