Looking forward

Ooh - two posts in two days - it's getting busy on here....

Anyway, I am taking stock of things to come - namely my big race that has been number one in my running mind for the best part of two years. The Montane Spine race.

Last year was just a taster - the smaller, easier, shorter "Montane Spine Challenger". But this time it's the full monty...

Here is the blurb from their website:

Widely regarded as one of the world’s toughest endurance races. A truly epic challenge that will test your physical resilience and mental fortitude. Racing non-stop along the most iconic trail in the UK, you will experience the full intensity and ferocity of the British Winter. Prepare yourself for the biggest challenge of your life.

The Pennine Way is one of the most demanding National Trails in Britain, and certainly the most iconic. The trail crosses some of the most beautiful and at times difficult terrain found in England, including; the Peak District, Yorkshire Dales, Northumberland National Park, Hadrian’s Wall and the Cheviots; finishing at the Scottish Borders.

The MONTANE® Spine® Race is open to anyone with appropriate experience* who wishes to test themselves and compete in a truly demanding race. Expect to face extreme weather, deep snow, ice, mud, bogs, ground water, storm force winds and driving rain in a gruelling, non-stop, 7-day race from Edale to Kirk Yetholm.

It’s not just the conditions that are against you, your own body and mind could become your worst enemy. Tiredness, fatigue, sleep deprivation and exposure to the extremes of winter weather are all to be expected. To finish you must be prepared and willing to push yourself harder than ever before.

There is very little hand holding on this race. We expect you to travel with a degree of self-sufficiency and skill which sets this race apart from others. Why? You should never embark on an adventure of this magnitude without the appropriate knowledge and skill to make yourself safe in a time of need. There is nothing more personally reassuring than being secure in your own abilities. That said, we still attach a GPS tracker to you with an emergency button just in case!

The MONTANE® Spine® Team will support your herculean efforts by being there when you really need us. We have an event safety team who will support you on the course, checkpoint teams who will provide you with some of the comforts of home when you need a rest, baggage transfers for your resupply and an excellent medical team provided by Exile Medics.


I just read this again, and to be honest with you I had a tingly moment - both with nervousness and also with excitement. This race has got me gagging to be out there and challenging myself.

Just a couple of bits of kit still to arrive in the post - then I have it all...



Not sure if I mentioned this before - but the race this year is unsupported - in other words I cannot have friends meeting me and plying me with food and hot drinks. I have to be totally self sufficient.

That said, if anyone is in the area while the race is on, feel free to stand there and wave/cheer/pull faces, just don't try and give me anything.

Alternatively, if you are really sad and lonely, why not volunteer to help out in the checkpoints, I'm sure they will be happy to have you on  board and I can say that seeing the friendly faces of checkpoint staff, really boosts morale when tiredness is at its height.

Anyway that's it for now. I'm sure as the race gets closer i will be posting more and more - i am SO excited, can you tell?

Ta Ta for now

Chris

Looking back

Ooh I just checked my blog. Last updated March this year! What a slacker!

So it seems we are long overdue an update, so considering the long and distant last update it seems I will be covering the training sessions over the summer, and the training still to come this autumn/winter.

What has been going on since March? Well the main event of the year was my training session in May, and the session in August. Ok, so the main TWO events of the year were the training sessions in May, August, and October, Oops, so the big THREE events this year are the three training sessions, my new car, and the Mediterranean cruise we went on. Oh pants - I will start again...

The main events of this year were: (you see what I did there?) Three big training sessions, I bought a new car, and we went on a cruise....

So to start - the May recce - its been so long i will have to refer to my notes... Ok, so this recce was a journey into the unknown. Last years Spine Challenger race finished in Hawes. This recce started at Hawes (what is Checkpoint 2 in the race) to Middleton in Teesdale (checkpoint 3). We met at a camp site near Middleton, pitched the tent so it was ready for us, then drove back to Hawes. The day looked great, not very windy, dry and cool.

We set off in good spirits. 35 (ish) miles in front of us. Up and over Great Shunner fell, I was surprised how much of the ascent was runable, I had imagined it to be one long slog, but it seemed fine (whether it will feel the same after 110 miles remains to be seen).

Ascending GSF

Dropping down the other side, we entered the lower lying areas of Thwaite and Swaledale. A lovely picturesque place, of farmers fields and flowing rivers/streams. We met up with a chap that was doing the Lands end to John-o-groats thing. He had started at lands end and was doing it using the long distance footpaths (like the Pennine way for example) rather than just roads and stuff - a much better plan I thought.  

Mind you, this chap could talk! maybe it was because he was so lonely, but he was tagging along and talking us to death. We sped up, hoping to loose him, but the terrain wasn't very helpful towards high speeds, so he kept up with us - we soon discovered that "in his day" he was a champion fell runner, hence he could pretty much keep up with whatever we attempted to throw at him speed wise.
We passed another couple, and our chap stopped briefly to bore them a bit - we took this god sent gift and trotted off round the corner, never to see him again...

Swaledale is very pleasing on the eye, with little waterfalls and stuff to distract you, but we soon lost it to the wilds of Yorkshire, as we slowly climbed up over the moors towards the Tan Hill Inn, a recognised pit stop on the race, and purveyors of a lovely chocolate orange cake.

Add caption

Suitable fed and watered (lemonade - the drink of champions) we set off to what was going to be the soggiest bit of the weekend - Sleightholme moor (or to fellow spine racers, the Tan Hill bogs). Light rain had set in, and visibility wasn't great, as we squelched our wandering way across this unpleasant featureless bit of Yorkshire. Eventually after many dog-legs to avoid the deeper bits, we hit dry(ish) land and could more confidently stride out knowing we wouldn't be swallowed up in the mire.

Little navigation checks passed, and the important sharp right turn found (avoiding the alternative route via Bowes) we carried on under the A66...

The path under the A66

Then it was just a series of long up and down sections until we eventually dropped steeply down to our campsite and waiting tent. We didnt recce all the way into Middleton, the path was suitably obvious from here in, so that was it, just an uncomfortable nights sleep for me (my mat had a puncture) and the next day we bailed on. We had intended to do another 20 ish miles, but the 35 miles in 12 hours had taken it out of us a bit, and anyway, this was only a recce - I didnt need to break myself this early on.

A curious chicken

So that was the may recce done and dusted. Plenty of shorter training runs later and we were nearly ready for another training/recce weekend, heading further north - but first, in other news, I got a new car:

 My Mini Cooper Coupe. A 2 seater (no its not a convertible) for me to have fun in...

His name is Montgomery (Monty for short), but as this has nothing to do with long distance running I shall move on...

So - Recce number 2 of the year. This will be a fun one. Middleton in Teesdale (Checkpoint 3) to Alston (Checkpoint 4)...
The plan for this one was a little different. We would be sleeping in proper beds Saturday night, and I would do day 2 on my own, so i picked up Cathy from Dufton (the end of day 1 place) and drove back to Middleton to the start.
The day was quite windy, but again it was dry and comfortable.

Me and Cathy at the start. Cathy demonstrating how windy it is with her hair.

The first section follows the river Tees, a lovely river sporting a couple of proper waterfalls. The imaginatively named Low force and High force:

Low force

High force

 After a bit the route turns left and starts to rise up into the hills and away from the general public out for a stroll around the waterfalls.

Still following the river Tees, we slowly rise, coming so close to the river that I can dunk my foot in it if i try, and we soon hit another waterfall - Cauldron snout, a fall that spouts from under the Cow Green reservoir, and is sometimes diverted away from during the race if it is particularly wet or icy, as the route climbs up rocks right next to the fall.

Cauldron snout waterfall

Once up, we carry along, sometimes wet, sometimes on a nice gravel road, passing convoys of shooters making the most of the newly opened grouse season. Our next destination was to be the incredible natural landmark of High Cup Nick (HCN), but before we got there i took a pic of the path - a typical Pennine way path:

As we approached HCN we saw a couple of walkers. One seemingly wandering around aimlessly, the other sitting down in a bivi bag. Chatting with them it transpired one had "done his knee in" and the other was waiting for mountain rescue to arrive. We checked they were OK, that they didn't need anything (they were very well equipped, and happily at the very head of HCN so would be impossible for mountain rescue to miss, especially as the bivi bag was day-glow orange).

High Cup Nick

So we set off again, with promises that we would let mountain rescue know where they were when we passed them coming up. We did pass them soon after and passed the information across that their quarry were well equipped and in good spirits.

Now for the long boring descent into Dufton, and Cathy's car, which would take us to a hot meal and comfy beds in readiness for another hill day tomorrow. Just time to take a picture of a random blue sheep...

Random blue sheep.

So onto day 2. I was dropped back at Dufton, with promises of being collected at Alston the other side of Cross fell, the highest point of the whole race, and again, sometimes (well once) diverted around in extreme weather.

It turned out that Cathy had chosen the better day as far as features go. There was not much to go on here, and I think some difficult navigation may be called for in bad weather, as the terrain posed not much to grip onto in terms of directional certainty.
It was a fairly long slog up to the first actual landmark, the radio/communications thingy at the summit of Great Dun fell. To highlight this here are some pictures I took of nothing in particular...

Looking back down towards Dufton (which is behind that pointy hill)

The path up

Eventually the nothingness terrain gave way to the summit of Great dun fell, and its radio/communications thingy perched on top.

The top of Great dun fell

The next heading was Cross fell, the highest point of the Pennine way.

Cross fell in the distance

There was a couple of rolling hills to cross, but I could see Cross fell in the distance (see what i did there?). It was still windy, and it was blowing from my left, (not that that matters) but I could imagine that in the winter this would be very high and exposed and generally not a nice place to be in bad weather.

Looking back from whence I came. (Dufton is behind that pointy hill on the right)

And eventually I reached the summit of Cross fell. Not much to see, just a cross wall shelter and a cairn.

Cross Fell summit cairn

 After the summit, the route drops down the other side quite rapidly and turns sharp right onto an indistinct track/road. This leads to the infamous Greg's hut. A high up house/bothy thing, where during the race the highest noodle bar in England is set up, to help weary racers refuel.

Greg's hut

And that's pretty much it of this trip, just the long boring descent into Garrigill, and along the river to Alston, where the smiling faces of Paul, Cathy, Molly, and Connie were waiting for me and deposit me back in Middleton for the long drive home.

And - onto the next event of the year, our cruise. As this is my running blog there is not much to report on apart from stair reps. I often would leave Lesley to gaze out to sea while i climbed up and down the decks. Sometimes when she watched a film that wasn't my cup of tea i was gone for an hour or so. I can report that there are 213 available steps from the top to the bottom of the boat.

Our ship - The Ventura

Stair reps

And finally, to bring us up to date, my October recce. I will quickly point out that I failed to charge my battery in the camera, so i only took a couple of pictures before it died, so this will be a short update.
I did however cover quite a lot of miles over the weekend, unfortunately most of them in the car. First I drove to Southampton to take Lesley to stay at her daughters, then I drove back home (in very heave traffic) to grab my kit, then set off northbound. I camped just north of Sheffield and then set off early the following morning towards my first target. I was on my own so had to be clever with the time i had. There were a few tricky bits i wanted to cover, mainly between Checkpoint 2 (Hawes) and Checkpoint 3 (Middleton).
I had a bit of a mental block of the Thwaite to Tan hill section (probably due to the mind numbing conversation i mentioned earlier), and i knew i wanted to repeat the Tan Hill bog area.
So starting at Thwaite, i headed out, it was a bit drizzly but not windy, so it was quite comfortable. Winding my way through and up round the fields to Swaledale, then along the river until it crossed, then doubling back to the car - this tricky bit just reinforced. It was more straight forward than i remembered, but still useful.
Then i drove to the Tan Hill inn. I had a nice meal of vegetable lasagna, got changed and set out into the moors. The light was fading, but i got the worst bit done in daylight,taking some very useful compass bearings from post to post, before continuing into the dark.

The Tan Hill moors

The Tan hill moors

Basically i just carried along the path in the dark until I found a suitable wall and set up my bivi. The wind had dropped, the cloud had lifted and I was treated to a lovely dry cool night in the middle of nowhere.
The next morning dawned dry and clear, with a crisp blue sky. I leisurely packed up and retraced my steps back to the car.
Having a small amount of time to spare i treated myself to a walk around the High and Low force waterfalls of Middleton, revelling in the lovely weather, before heading back south and home.

And thats it - all up to date.

Plenty of training to be getting on with, and a final recce (hopefully Checkpoint 4 to Checkpoint 5) later this month, or early December.

Is now a good time to mention I am trying to raise some money for charity? Well I am - raising money for "The little lives appeal" which is the premature baby unit at our local hospital - where our grandson James was born 7 years ago.
Here is the link - please give generously...

https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/thespinerace

Thanks you - and see you soon...



Acknowledgements:
The Monty Python team for their Spanish inquisition sketch.
Cathy for her support
P&O for having ships with lots of steps

Dirty thoughts...

Training is now well under way for next year. I know it is a tad early but preparation is everything.

This year I intend to do some things a little bit differently. For starters I shall be wearing trail running shoes rather than lightweight walking boots. Although I did run in the boots they did let water in (either they leaked, or the water went in over the top), so this time I will be wearing trail running shoes and waterproof socks. This will mean that water gets into the shoes, but will drain out again (because they are not waterproof) and the socks should keep my feet dry. I will have several pairs available to me (in my pack and also in my drop bag) so if a pair starts to leak I can swap them over for a fresh pair.
I will also have a couple of alternative trail shoes available to swap over (in my drop bag) so if I have problems a new/different pair of shoes wont be far away.

So today I tested my first trail shoe option, these if they live up to my expectations will be my starting shoes - the ones I will start the race in. They are a pair of very bright Scott Kinabalu trail shoes.

I took them out of the box, donned a pair of liner socks and a pair of the waterproof socks over the top, put the shoes on and then put my running gaiters on over the top to stop the shoes filling up with stones, then set off into the soggy countryside (it had rained lots the previous day).

To say it was muddy was an understatement...

I really enjoy the off road running, it is so much more enjoyable than road plodding, you have to keep your wits about you as the ground beneath your feet is constantly changing, hard, soft, wet, dry, uneven... It changes all the time.

Anyway, I set off over the waterlogged fields, towards Wicken woods, fields were flooded, and the river was high, the grip on the shoes was outstanding and the socks were doing a great job of keeping the my feet dry.

Did I mention it was a bit muddy?

 Through the woods I went, passing a rubber chicken discarded on the path (as you do)...

And then headed back towards Wicken village. Through the village I headed back out into the fields, skirting Deanshanger and then out towards Stony Stratford, again across the fields. I had to briefly stop when I reached the field near the river in Stony to allow a yappy dog to be hauled back under control by its master, running with one of these at your ankles is asking for trouble.

Back out of Stony I headed back towards Deanshanger and skirted round the other side, running up a footpath that goes through the middle of a field of young crops. Out the other side, down to the river and up top the end of my road. I checked the distance on my watch - 12.75 miles - Ooh another 1/4 of a mile and I will have a cross country half marathon under my belt, so I did a little loop in the village until my watched beeped the 13 miles, then headed in.

Hosing my shoes and lower legs down I reflected on the run. The shoes were perfect, so these will be my starting shoes (pending a distance test on one of my training weekends) and the socks kept my feet dry, albeit a little bit damp through sweat, but nothing compared to how wet they would have been without the waterproof socks. I will have replacement liner socks a plenty so can change these regularly between checkpoints, and I shall carry foot powder with me this time which will help in keeping my feet nice and dry and peachy.

I mentioned I will have a choice of footwear in my drop bag. The intention is to have 2 other pairs available, a larger pair of trail shoes (I have been told your feet swell up to a size larger deep into the race), so the extra size will help there, and the other pair will be a light pair of running boots, for when I get extra tired and need the extra support towards the end. I have to get these yet so I can test them, but I have a good idea on which these will be. These will be talked about in future blogs :-)

One month on...

Hello lovelies.

So, here I am, one month after completing what to date has been the biggest physical and mental achievement of my life.
I often find myself, in moments of quietness, drifting to a time and place four weeks ago, battling the elements, fatigue, and my mind. I end up smiling quietly to myself. This can happen anywhere, often in Tesco, and I wonder if people look at me with curiosity as to what makes me smile...

Physically I am more or less recovered, although I still have a small swelling on my left ankle where the cuff of my boot rubbed and aggravated the soft tissue above the bony bits. The back of the same heel is also slightly tender, but this I think was caused by a premature 10 mile cross country run 10 or so days after the event. I still have two numb toes, and lastly, the surface of my feet where it was waterlogged and blistered, is now shedding dead skin at an alarming rate, to be replaced with soft virginal layers - little are they aware of what lies in front of them...

Mentally, as I touched on above, I am still floating. Previous finishers of this race have many times alluded to the fact that this event is as much taxing on the mind as it is the body. I am aware how endurance racing is very much mind over matter, but when taken to the extremes, and add into the mix a degree of fatigue, the mental side of this race takes to a whole new level of inner strength. Now I am not one to outwardly "big myself up", if anything I lean towards self deprecation, and tend to constantly analyse what I did wrong, rather than what I did well, But I have come to realise that I appear to be stronger mentally than I thought I was.
This is a great base to build on for next year's race. Two and a half times the distance and racing time, The Spine Race will tax my mind far greater than the race this year, but having these memories, and thoughts to draw upon when things get "interesting", will be another tool in my arsenal of weapons I have at my disposal, to ensure that I can push on to the finish line.
One last point on my mental state during this race that differed from other races I have done in the past. At no point in this race did I contemplate giving up. Other races have had moments of "I cant do this, I am pulling out" etc, but then I continued, but this race, none of these thoughts surfaced, just a dogged determination to get to the finish line. This makes me happy.

*********

Moving onto next year's race, I have already started making plans. The training will be very similar to this year with (hopefully) three weekends away where I can recce parts of the route and train on the specific terrain of the race. One of these three will be in the proper hills of north Wales to help my legs get used to more hill work (Milton Keynes is not ideally situated for hill training).

I have also started to plan my resting/refueling strategy. There has been a rule change. The race is now unsupported.
This means that I will not have the luxury of Jeff & Cathy following me about, tending to my every need, and offering a handy dry warm place to sleep.
Instead we all now have to totally rely on the support the race organisation has to offer. This consists of the main checkpoints, spaced about every 50 miles apart. These are the only places where we are allowed to sleep indoors, and they will also have food, showers (mostly) and our drop bags (bags containing spare food/clothing/footwear etc) will be delivered to these as we progress up the route.
Between these checkpoints are monitoring stations, spaced about 20/25 miles apart, and manned by mountain rescue people. These are mainly make shift shelters and offer (mostly) hot drinks, cake, sweets etc, but limited to a 30 minute stop.
If any racer wants to rest between the main checkpoints, we will need to use the kit we have lugged about with us, sleeping bags, bivi bags, stoves etc may actually get used next year. Sleeping between checkpoints is permitted, but we need to find our own suitable place. next to a wall, in a sheep fold, in a derelict barn, under a tractor (someone did this in a previous year), just not in a camper van (or hotel come to think of it).
This new rule means that for long stretches (generally around the distances of normal marathons) we need to be totally self sufficient, carrying all the food and water we need to safely cover these distances. No travelling light and topping up as and when we need to. It does mean the racers not used to spending full days in the hills, carrying everything they need will be obliged to prepare for this, or risk dropping out.
I look back with fondness at the times in my youth where I spent weeks in the French/Italian alps totally cut off from civilisation, and the many extended trips to Wales/Scotland, spending time in the hills with friends, not relying on shops or B&Bs, but just living under canvas. This has now given me a solid base to draw on, and will raise me above others with lesser experience.

Another mental weapon in my arsenal.

Initially I was dismayed at this rule change. I would not have the warm friendly faces of my crew to spur me on, the frequent top ups of food and water, the easy availability of fresh clothing or footwear, the warmth and dryness of a quiet place to sleep,  but now I relish the extra challenge.

Next year will be a Monster. A Devil of a race. It is going to need everything I can throw at it. It will throw stuff back at me, wind, rain, mud, fatigue, loneliness, but I now have a massive strength that I can draw on, and I have my mantra - my solid thought that I can yell out when things get interesting...

Sorry If my ramblings seem a little self indulgent, but getting them down in front of me so I can read them back, does make them more real.

Until next time.....

Application sent - application accepted - butterflies activated.

Well yesterday morning the applications for entering the Spine races opened. I duly sent in my application, which includes all my race and mountain experience, including the fact that I had successfully completed the shorter race this year.

Within the hour I received a response stating that my application had been accepted and that I was entered into The Montane Spine Race. This is the daddy of the race I did this year. Instead of the 108 miles in 60 hours I faced this January, This time it will be 268 miles in 168 hours.

I have 11 months to sort myself out so I can confidently set out to complete it in the allotted time, first i still need to sort out my ankles and feet, which are still suffering the after effects of this years race...

Plenty of time for that 😀

Here is what the organisers say about the race:

The montane® spine® race is widely regarded as one of the world’s toughest endurance races. A truly epic challenge that will test your physical resilience and mental fortitude. Racing non-stop along the most iconic trail in the uk, you will experience the full intensity and ferocity of the british winter. Prepare yourself for the biggest challenge of your life.

The Pennine Way is one of the most demanding National Trails in Britain, and certainly the most iconic. The trail crosses some of the most beautiful and at times difficult terrain found in England, including; the Peak District, Yorkshire Dales, Northumberland National Park, Hadrian’s Wall and the Cheviots; finishing at the Scottish Borders.

The MONTANE® Spine® Race is open to anyone with appropriate experience* who wishes to test themselves and compete in a truly demanding race. Expect to face extreme weather, deep snow, ice, mud, bogs, ground water, storm force winds and driving rain in a gruelling, non-stop, 7-day race from Edale to Kirk Yetholm.

It’s not just the conditions that are against you, your own body and mind could become your worst enemy. Tiredness, fatigue, sleep deprivation and exposure to the extremes of winter weather are all to be expected. To finish you must be prepared and willing to push yourself harder than ever before.

There is very little hand holding on this race. We expect you to travel with a degree of self-sufficiency and skill which sets this race apart from others. Why? You should never embark on an adventure of this magnitude without the appropriate knowledge and skill to make yourself safe in a time of need. There is nothing more personally reassuring than being secure in your own abilities. That said, we still attach a GPS tracker to you with an emergency button just in case!

The MONTANE® Spine® Team will support your herculean efforts by being there when you really need us. We have an event safety team who will support you on the course, checkpoint teams who will provide you with some of the comforts of home when you need a rest, baggage transfers for your resupply and an excellent medical team provided by Exile Medics.

And here is a high level map of the route:

I am still a bit daunted by the distance, but i have nearly a year to train for it, so it should be ok, although it will involve a lot more running than last time if i want to finish within the cut off, and still be able to sleep!

So, that's it for now - see you soon.

Spine Challenger 2017 race report, part 3 - the aftermath

A Charles Dickens quote comes to mind: "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times" but as I Googled the extract and continued to read the longer quote, more and more of it rang true. Here it is, it is from A Tale of Two Cities:

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us".

This pretty much sums it up for me and I suspect most of the other racers that toed the line 2 weeks ago on their own adventures that are the Spine race series. 

**********

This third post in my trilogy of Spine Challenger blogs covers what came after the race. I will cover my physical and mental state, what went well, what didn't go well, my high points and my low points, and what I intend to change for next years assault on the full version.

**********

I woke up in the middle of the night absolutely drenched. It was about midnight, and laying there the night after the race I started to think of what I could tell Paul & Cathy about the state of their bedding. I hadn't wet the bed, honestly, i was just sweating for England. I got up, mopped myself and the sheets as best I could with a towel and laid back down on a dryer area of the bed, and fell into an immediate sleep.
Waking further into the night, this time it appeared I had been moving about a bit in my sleep, instead of being the normal way in the bed with my head at the pillow end etc, i was at 90 degrees with my head pressed up against the side wall and my feet dangling over the other side of the bed. Again i was wet all over with sweat.
This pretty much summed up this first night, sweating, fitful mobile sleeping and frequent waking up.

Finally, giving up to wakefulness, I got up at 7ish and inspected the damage to my feet. They looked a whole lot better. The night before Cathy had given me a bottle of her finest moisturising cream, and a small tin of "badger butter" which was met with much mirth.
Before turning in I had spread both products liberally over my feet in an attempt to get them looking more human, and the combination had not done a bad job.

My foot the morning after.

Now that they were not all wrinkly and waterlogged I could see what was happening under the surface. I had a total of 8 blisters. The area between the ball of the foot and the rest of the foot was 2 blisters joined together in the middle, each little toe had a blister, one heel and one of my other toes also had one. They were not very deep and the skin had not broken so at this stage they were manageable.

I equipped myself with a needle, some antiseptic wipes and some loo roll and "dealt" with them as best I could, after which i could walk almost normally. 

Both ankles were very swollen. As Jeff pointed out I had a fine pair of "cankles" (yes I had to Google it as well), the left one was worse and was also bruised from wearing Jeff's boots when I did.

As far as my legs were concerned things were not too bad, my calf muscles were the worse, and my hip flexors also, but the rest of them felt fine, a little weak, but not at all bad considering the battering I had given them.
My shoulders were also quite sore. These lightweight race packs are all very well, but they are not very supportive and do rely on strong shoulders and back to hold them in shape. 
Luckily I had the foresight to have booked a massage the following day, and it was bliss, she ironed out the kinks in my legs shoulders and back, but I had to repeatedly tell her to stay away from the feet!

Two weeks on and most physical things have sorted themselves out. I still have a swollen and bruised left ankle, and two toes on this foot are without feeling. My blisters have all healed and I am shedding skin from my feet like a pet python going through a growth spurt. I am also still having the odd sweaty night. Interestingly I Googled this, It is hormonal, where during and after extreme exercise, hormone levels change to ramp up your metabolism and thus make energy resources more quickly available.

**********

Mentally I am up and down. During the race was interesting. At no point in the race did I consider giving up, it just didn't enter my head. Sometimes during other events you sometimes get a niggle in the mind saying "is this all worth it?" but you dismiss it and carry on, but this time nothing, just a dogged mindset that I would complete it whatever. There were however two points during the race which were particular low points and I did consider the point that I may not be able to complete it. 

The first was during my sleep at Malham Tarn. My coughing fit and rattling lungs did get me seriously worried. I managed to cough up some very thick gungy stuff that once this was gone it did improve things somewhat, but during the coughing I was thinking that I may have picked up an infection in my lungs. Things were going through my mind, like seeing a medic at the next checkpoint that was just down the road, but they might retire me if it sounded bad. Once the alarm went and I got up (and thus upright) I had no rattling or coughing, so I thought no more about it.

The second was at Horton in Ribblesdale. Timings were getting tight. We worked out that I had about 10 hours left to cover 15 miles. This was too tight for comfort when you start allowing for getting lost, getting injured, having a rest etc, and the thought of getting timed out so close to the finish really affected me mentally. I rallied round and really bullied myself during the next section in order to regain a time buffer, but while we worked things out I (and I am sure Cathy and Jeff) were a bit worried that things were not as they should be.

Now I am mostly good. Walking about I keep inwardly smiling, thinking to myself that I had done it. I had finished the hardest race I had ever done. I am a champion, etc, but occasionally I think to myself that my next race is ages away, nearly a full year ahead of me with nothing but training runs with the occasional trip to the hills for a play, but it does seem a long way off. I may just book a couple of marathons to keep things ticking over...

**********

My High points are easy. The start for one. I was happy just to be toeing the line with the other racers. It was cold and crisp, there was snow on the ground and I was fit and prepared for everything. 
Then there was the moorland after snake pass. The sun had come out, there was snow on the ground making the scenery most lovely.
And then of course there was the finish, always a high point in any race, but this one was special as I had my wonderful friends there to meet me. I couldn't have been happier.

My low points were definitely the two things I talked about above, my coughing at Malham and the time talks in Horton, but in addition to these has to be the final descent into Hawes when my brain relaxed and the pain really started to kick in.

**********

What went well? Well firstly the fact that I was a supported runner with a support crew worked really well, the meeting places were perfectly distanced and I looked forward to each and every meeting. The whole crewing operation went so well I think I can say that without them I would not have finished.

Navigation went well also. This was one of my main worries, but the well trodden path, the lights of others and of course my maps and GPS all worked well together to mean that there was no point i was lost. I may have taken a wrong turning or two, but it was quickly rectified without much time wasted.

What did not go well? My footwear choice I think was the main thing. If I had just added some waterproof socks to my available kit I think the whole race would have been more comfortable.

**********

What would I change? Just a few gear tweaks for next year. Different boots with a lower ankle and couple these with waterproof socks (including several spares) should do the trick feet wise.

My goggles were next to useless. I have taken advice and got some Bolle safety ones which several other racers had and they were impressed.

Food - more wet stuff. Trying to eat bread rolls was hard work when your mouth is dry from all the heavy breathing. I think lots of different snacks for the hills and good wet meals for the checkpoints or crew meetings will be the best option for me.

Other than that the rest of the kit performed very well which is good as it means less frantic gear searches as the race next year looms.

**********

All it leaves now is to thank everyone involved in the build up and during the weekend of the race.

Firstly I want to thank the organisers for putting on a fantastic race with some of the best organisation I have ever experiences in a race. Not only the people you see, like the marshals and the CP staff, but also the people you don't, like the ones who ship the kit bags from the start to each checkpoint and then to the finish. Great work chaps.

Then I have to thank Jeff and Cathy for their amazing job at crewing me in the race. They went beyond what i expected of them, they were totally focussed on getting me to the finish. I also need to thank Paul, Cathy's husband, who moved things about and looked after the kids to ensure Cathy could accompany me on my training weekends and the race.

Lastly I have to thank my long suffering wife Lesley. I know I obsess about things, I cant help it, it is what I do, and you must have had an awful year with me going on and on about this race. I will try to keep it off the topic of conversation as much as I can this year. But without your supporting me when I do stuff like this, well it would just not be good...

I hope all the worry you go through when I am out in the hills was worth it when I came home brandishing my new medal and a massive grin on my face. xxx

Spine Challenger 2017 race report. part 2 - the race.

I woke for the 75th time that night and checked the time. It had not been the most restful of nights, and I was willing the hours and minutes by until it got to a semi reasonable time where I could get up and get ready to brave the elements.

6am arrived and I rose, showered, dressed, and exited, heading down to the start area and the hall where we would congregate prior to setting off.
We got our GPS trackers attached to our race packs, so the race people and those at home could follow our every move. Then we just stood around nervously chatting and glancing at the clock on the wall waiting for 07:45 when we would be ushered out into the cold ready for the 08:00 start.

Finally, Father Time got a bit bored and signaled to the organisers that we aught to be on our way, so we were herded out of the warm hall and into the crisp morning gloom.

The weather forecast for today was very cold and crisp and it was true to its word. A heavy frost lay over the light covering of snow that was already there. We made our way over to the start area and waited for the off.

Eventually we got the final countdown and we were off - This is it, I am actually here and racing in the race that I had prepped for the whole year for. I had purposefully got myself near the back of the pack, I knew my race would be slow and that I would be one of the back markers so I saw no sense in getting in other faster runners way.
We set off up the hill in Edale, the air was cold, but there was the odd spit in the air. I was wearing my windproof shell at this point as I wanted maximum breathability, but as no rain was forecast this should be fine, Wrong! Within 30 minutes of the start it started sleeting really hard. I stopped behind the shelter of a wall (copied by many other runners) and donned my full waterproof gear.
The sleet quickly turned to snow and as we climbed higher full blizzard conditions arrived.Navigation in these conditions became "interesting" and I took a small detour before realising the rest of the field was heading in a different way, so about turn I went.

We continued over Kinder, the snow had abated a bit now but was a good 6 inches on the ground, with drifts of over 2 feet in places. The slabs over Featherbed moss were not visible, but it was obvious to me which way to go, being near the back of the pack I had plenty of foot prints to follow.

Over Snake Pass we went and I briefly stopped to put on my "Yaktracks" which would hopefully stop me from slipping so much. They worked really well but did keep moving around on my boots, requiring me to keep having to pause and re-position them. Over Bleaklow we went, stopping once to confirm the direction with my GPS as the way wasn't obvious in the snow, but all was ok and we were spot on.
I descended to Torside reservoir where the next small monitoring post was, I scrounged some water from a support crew as I had nearly ran out, and then continued on my way towards Black hill.

Climbing back up into the snow line, things were much the same as on Kinder, but no blizzard, just lovely snow and a crisp silence.

Over the top of Black hill I started the final descent towards Wessenden where Jeff and Cathy would be waiting for our first pit stop. I arrived at the road, I couldn't see them so I carried on assuming they were at the car park we had used on our recce weekend months before. I was powering along the road when I saw the familiar shape of Jeff calling me back. They were on the main road after all, just a bit along, so I cut the corner and headed back down to them.

Coming into the first crew stop at Wessenden.

Arriving at the van, I quickly sorted out what I wanted to do. A sock change, a bite to eat, replenish my food and water for the night ahead and to slip on another layer as the temperature was dropping. Then off into the night I went.

This next section was another load of high moorland. Still with snow on the ground, the going wasn't too bad, and the light from my head torch was magnified by the snow meaning I could have it on a lower setting to conserve the battery.

Dropping off the moor to the marshal point of Harrop dale, I just showed my number and blasted straight over and back up to the dark moorland. In my mind the next thing to look out for was the sharp left turn before the sweeping right towards the white house pub. Across the moorland I went, it seemed to be going on for ever, no landmarks as such, just a bleak snowy nothingness with a path in the middle.
I saw what looked like a large post up ahead. Ahh I thought, this must be the left turn, although the post must be new as I didn't remember it from the recce, but I suppose it is put there so people don't miss the turn. I carried on, the post kept drifting in and out of visibility in the dark misty air, dimly silhouetted against the dark sky. It didn't seem to be getting any nearer - it was just there in front of me but I could never reach it.
Eventually I went over a small crest of ground and the story was laid out in front of me. There was a car park, complete with mountain rescue monitoring crew, a burger van, the M62 in the background and what I thought was a marker post turned out to be the 300ft tall windy hill transmitter!

Windy hill transmitter and car park (in the summer)

I rocked up at the car park, cursing my ageing memory, how could I forget the M62 crossing with its huge aerial? I stopped for a hot beverage at the burger van (a hot chocolate - yummy) and pressed on as quickly as I could.
Much of the snow was now gone, or very much on the way out, rapidly being replaced by treacherous ice, both water that had frozen, but also snow that had compacted down and made glassy smooth by the light rain that was now falling. Crossing the M62 over the purpose built footbridge, I was warned to keep to the left as this was less icy - it was still icy and I slipped my way across, but at least I was on the best side according to the people I met.

Up over the other side of the M62 I climbed up to Blackstone edge, a very rocky and confusing place in the dark, but managed to find my way down the other side, and eventually to the real sharp left turn that I had so longingly looked for earlier, following the path down and around, to the White House pub, out of bounds to Spiners, but in the car park I had another hot beverage supplied by the mountain rescue people manning this point (a hot blackcurrant juice if you are interested).

The next section was pretty flat as it skirts the reservoirs on the way to Stoodley pike, this was easy ground until the path peters out near the pike and you have to pick your own way up. I took a bit of a wrong turn here (or rather I didn't turn and went straight up) this was a mistake as it led to a 200 meter section of boggy, uneven ground. I hopped (as best I could) from tousle to tousle, trying to avoid the wet mess between them, to make matters worse some poor chap had followed me into this soggy place. I battled on, veering slightly right towards higher (and hopefully dryer) ground, glancing back it was clear my follower was checking his navigation. I should have but I knew if I could get above it things would improve, which indeed they did and I trotted off towards Stoodley pike monument which I could see looming in the distant darkness. I never saw my follower again, despite repeated glances back for his light.

All this soggy ground was starting to affect my feet. I could feel they were wet, I was pretty sure the boots had started to leak, especially the left one, although some wetness also seemed to be coming over the top of the boots. Having wet feet at this early stage wasn't great, but I would check them at the next crew meeting near the first main Checkpoint.

Descending into Hebden Bridge was uneventful (although I thought I had missed a turning and was cursing myself on now having to take a large detour along the road to regain the path), when I rounded the corner to see another mountain rescue monitoring point, it seems I was spot on again - awesome :-)

The climb up out of Hebden Bridge was quite intricate even though I had done it in the summer, and a bit of tricky navigating got me out onto the path across the fields, down the dip into the fairy glen, and then back over the fields onto the Slack road - at last I could turn off the Penning Way and head towards the main Checkpoint. I also knew Jeff and Cathy would be waiting along here so I could get re-fuelled and watered.

Arriving at the second crew point near Hebden Hey

Meeting up with them, I checked my feet. Sure enough they were very wet and showing signs of getting waterlogged. I knew Jeff had bought his boots along which were exactly the same as mine, so I asked if I could swap them over, which he had planned for anyway, so that's what I did.

I ate the KFC they had kindly got me from the valley, topped up my hill food, donned Jeff's less muddy boots and headed out towards the legendary descent into the checkpoint proper. Yes it was a bit muddy after it had been churned up by most of the field of runners before me, but it was fairly straight forward, right a bit, then a sharp left for a fair way (over a tree trunk and under some annoyingly sharp holly), then right, and then finally left into the scout centre.

As I wondered in they took my number and got my drop bag, I proceeded into the conservatory to remove my (now very muddy) boots and gaiters, which is the rules, then I pottered into the hall to the kit area.
In my head this was to be a large hall with kit bags everywhere, stuff disgorged from them and loads of people milling around sorting themselves out. Well that is partly correct, except replace the large hall with a small box room and you get the idea.
I balanced my kit bag on the top of a pile of 10 other kit bags, grabbed some socks and my foot powder and made my way to the mens loos to sort out my feet. They were getting bad with a deep fissure developing in my left foot between the ball of the foot and the rest. I rubbed powder into them and donned my dry socks, this should help I thought to myself. I then tried to go to the loo, but the double dose of Imodium was still staunchly doing its job, so I gave that up as a bad job (pun intended).
I downed a mug of strong coffee while having a quick chat with a couple of fellow racers, then grabbed my stuff and back to the conservatory to head out. I was in a bit of a quandary about how I would get into the muddy conservatory to get my boots on while in just my socks, but one of the helpers located my boots for me, and we laid out my gaiters like stepping stones with the clean side up, and I used them to get to a seat while keeping my socks dry.

Complimented on my quick turnaround, I headed out into the night (this was about 04:30 Sunday morning by the way) and back up the muddy path with no dramas (although another racer did come a cropper at my feet as he descended rather quicker than he intended).

I headed back out onto the Slack road, past the van where Jeff and Cathy were snuggled up to sleep, and back onto the Pennine way.
The ground was now proper icy, hindering my every step, I was slipping and sliding all over the place, the stone slabs covered in a thick layer of glass-like ice. I descended slightly off this bit of moorland onto a very wet looking track - and Bam! I was on my back. It wasn't wet, it was a huge sheet of ice. I lay there for a couple of seconds, slightly winded, and checked for hurty bits, but I had landed on my pack which was fairly soft so everything seemed ok. Stumbling to my feet, my gloves now saturated and I could wring them out, I dug out my mitts and donned these instead.

Concentrating hard now so as not to slip over, I carried on my way. I recognised (only just) a bit where we had gone wrong due to too much chatting, and avoided that again, heading up past the obvious sign we had missed before. Now I was at the series of reservoirs heading towards Wadsworth moors and Withins Heights. I trotted along the path/track next to the reservoirs when there loomed out of the dark a track coming in on my left. Strange I thought, that shouldn't be there, so out came the map, and sure enough I was heading away from the correct path. Heading down this surprise path would mean I was back on track after a small detour so I followed it back down, and re-joined the Pennine way. A couple of smaller false paths eventually led to the correct path up into the moors.

As I rose again the path got increasingly icy, meaning I had to move much slower. I did think about putting on my ice spikes, but as the ice was intermittent with the stone slabs I thought it would take too much time taking them off and putting them back on again. With hindsight I should have just put them on and left them on, it would have been far safer and probably faster, but my thinking wasn't the most sensible of thinking after about 24 hours on the go.
Descending to Top Withens, the supposed sight of the house in Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights, I paused on the bench outside to adjust my boots. My ankles had really started to hurt, Jeff's boots were obviously a different shape around the top, and my bony ankles were taking the brunt of it.

Dropping down to Ponden reservoir was uneventful as was the climb up the other side to cross Oakworth moor and Ickornshaw moor. These were both a mix of icy slabs and deep peat bogs. Several times I was up to my knees in the cold wet goo, but my momentum mainly got me free just as quickly. Descending from the moors into Cowling and farmers fields, the ground changed dramatically from peat moorland to cow churned fields, often plodding through endless fields of ankle deep mud, each step pulling you back, but at least it was daylight for a change so I could see where I was going.
Over one more hill and I was descending at last into Lothersdale which was the next meeting point for Jeff  and Cathy. I hobbled into the village as my ankles were really hurting now and there they were right by the pub, parked up and rearing to help and assist me.

Arriving in Lothersdale

They plied me with a bowl of chips, but they were quite dry to eat so I needed to sip water between each mouthful to get them down. I think I only managed about half of them.

I needed to sort out my feet now, there we no way I could carry on with Jeff's boots so opted to change back to my leaky ones. I changed socks again to prolong the dryness and did everything up, even now my ankle felt like it had more room to move. I would just have to put up with soggy feet for the rest of the race.

Changing my boots back to the more comfy ones.

Not wanting to waste any of the precious daylight I was keen to get moving as quickly as possible, so without any more delay I was up and out. A quick ascent onto Elslack moor and Pinhaw Beacon and then heading back down to Thornton-in-Craven. I passed a chap handing out quality street, but I declined as I just didn't fancy chocolate. It is very strange how my tastes changed at various times during the race. Things I loved before I just couldn't face, and I craved other things that normally I wouldn't choose to eat. The rehydrated meals for instance. Usually I would not go to these by choice, but every time Jeff and Cathy presented me with one it was very welcome, even if I couldn't handle the full meal.

Lots of very undulating fields and mud later I reached the canal, and then crossed more very muddy fields (the site of the muck spreading area in the summer) and then I was in to Gargrave. Mentally Gargrave was a huge target. It was at about the 72 mile mark, but the last recce we did went from Gargrave to the finish so this was very fresh in my mind. I had also thought before the race that if I got to Gargrave then I would finish the race. This was a great boost.

Arriving in Gargrave Jeff and Cathy met me again. This was a stop we had planned at the last minute due to possible road closures caused by snow. The road was open but they kept this meet up in as agreed just as a bonus. It was starting to get dark again now and as I left them (after another rehydrated meal) I suddenly remembered my little red lights on the back of my pack. I called back to the van feebly but they didn't hear me, not wanting to walk back in the wrong direction all of 50 feet, I said to myself forget it, and carried onwards.

Walking up the road out of Gargrave I came across another racer coming down the road in the opposite direction. She said her feet were in a bad way and couldn't continue, I sympathised with her, it certainly wasn't easy under foot, and this next section across the fields and along the river would not be any let up to the wetness under foot. We parted, me heading up and her heading down (I think this was Maxine Lock according to the retirement lists).
Making sure I didn't miss the elusive right turn into the fields that I had already completely missed once, and nearly missed a second time on the 2 recces that went across these fields, I then trudged across the next set of waterlogged fields. All signs of snow and ice had now gone, and we were treated to a persistent light drizzle, My waterproofs were doing their job though and I was perfectly comfortable in the cold wet darkness.
The river was very high and I could hear its rushing and gurgling noises in the darkness, a bit disconcerting when you cannot actually see the water. I knew this part quite well, but it is still a long drag into Malham village.

Straight through the village I went, without stopping and heading up towards Malham cove and eventually Malham tarn where we had previously arranged with Jeff and Cathy I would stop for a short sleep. Heading into Malham cove I was really starting to feel tired now. I was 38 hours and 78 miles in and things were really turning strange. Ascending the steps next to the cove, they seemed to go on for ever, and I had started to feel my right knee twinging a bit. I flexed it back and forward which relieved it a bit. It didn't help that my coordination was also beginning to suffer. I would step up a step or two, but then lose a bit of balance and was forced to step backwards and down, only to attempt the step again, a sort of up 2 steps and down one. I got to the top of the cove, and still had the brainpower to navigate my way behind the limestone pavement, avoiding the worst of the slippery limestone.

And then the hallucinations started kicking in...

I had heard about these from other blogs. When you get to extreme tiredness your mind starts to play tricks on you. I was fully expecting this so wasn't unduly worried when I started to see all sorts of objects in the stony track. All rocks or stones took on some form or other, a face, squirrels, an alligator, an owl, a lizard, I was sort of smiling to myself, wondering what would be next. Luckily they were all immobile and I knew what was happening, so no dramas.
Coordination was still an issue, couple this with a hurty knee and the hallucinations and things slowed somewhat for the last mile into the meeting place. It was very foggy now, but I knew the way without too much problem, and eventually emerged from the fog to the sight of the twinkling fairy lights that was our van.

I was welcomed into the confines of the van, muddy boots, gaiters and over-trousers off. I shoved some food down my throat and then got ready for some much needed sleep. I just took off my jacket and a fleece and dived into my sleeping bag. Set the alarm for one hour please and that was it, but as soon as I laid down I was racked with a coughing fit, some gunge had built up on my lungs with all the heavy cold air breathing, and was rattling about as I laid there. After several minutes of wheezing and coughing things got a bit better and I must have slept a bit.

Having a sleep. I am in there somewhere.

The alarm woke us with a start and I sprang up as refreshed as less than an hours sleep can make you. I donned all my clothing that I had removed and quickly exited the van - into the thickest fog I had seen for a while. Jeff pointed me in the right direction and off I went into the void, trusting my compass, GPS and the force.
I think I got a bit disorientated as I came across what I thought was a track coming up from the tarn (a track which wasn't there the last time we were there) and started following it to the right, but then just to be sure I checked the GPS and it was actually the track leading to the next checkpoint, and I needed to be heading in the opposite direction. I turned round and headed the other way, the force was screaming to me that it was the other way, Soon enough I came across the pile of logs that I knew where there from before so I knew for definite I was heading the right way.

Skirting round the tarn I eventually arrived at the next checkpoint. This was just a hall with hot drinks and a toilet, no sleeping facilities like the main one, but as I said, it had a toilet, time for another try. This was about 2am Monday morning and the Imodium had been doing its stuff for about 44 hours...

About a stone lighter I popped another couple of Imodium and some paracetamol for my feet, which were really starting to hurt now, and carried on into the night (after a sneaky coffee in the hall).

Not far out of the checkpoint Jeff and Cathy drove past on their way to the checkpoint, they had been asked to ferry a couple of retirees there as the mountain rescue people had to be elsewhere, so they obliged.

Leaving the road I started the long slog up Fountains fell. This is one of the longest climbs of the race, and doesn't it let you know that, it goes on for ever. Not far into the climb I saw 3 lights coming up fast behind me, these must be the leaders of the Full Spine race that had started the day after ours, what with me being near the back and the leaders moving really fast. They sped past me, but then I could see they were just "normal" people, maybe they had had a better kip than me because they were really flying.
I had gone a little bit astray at this point, and needed to follow a wall across the climb until I found the stile over it, by this time they were well in front, but I could see their lights which was handy as this bit can be a bit tricky navigationally.

Continue the climb, every now and again I saw a light up ahead from the people in front, either they were checking for followers, or they were helpfully shining a light back to aid followers (me) in this tricky ascent.
Rounding the summit I started the equally long descent to the road between Fountains Fell and Pen-Y-Ghent, the highest point on the race.
When I reached the road I met a camera crew who were eagerly awaiting the leaders - obviously they were not that far behind, but I had seen no more lights behind me since the speedy bunch had gone past, so they must still be fair distance away.

Trotting along the road, which seemed longer than I remember, I eventually started the climb up to Pen-Y-Ghent. This is quite a technical climb, certainly much more so then any other part of the race, It was still dark on the ascent, being 07:00 ish Monday morning.
Now the ascent is a bit of a scramble, but me with my rock climbing background shouldn't find this a problem, especially as I have done it a couple of times before, once at night, but when I hit the steep ground I was really struggling. Before the climb I was suffering from sleepiness again, but this soon woke me up. My problem was that I was still a bit shaky on coordination and still needing to take the odd step backwards like at Malham, and this was the last thing I wanted to do mid scramble in the dark, so I reverted to a sort of  kneeling, swimming, crawling gait as I ascended the rocky steps, poles dangling from my wrists and my bare hands making sure I had a proper grip on something before risking a step upwards. Being in this very unnatural position meant I missed the correct way up a couple of times so I really made a meal of it, but my mind was all over the place and I was playing for safety rather than speed.

Eventually I crawled over the last steep bit and arrived at the summit plateau, relieved that the technical bit was over I headed for the summit and the descent down the other side, a much safer rocky path, complete with hallucinogenic faces, lizards, alligators, squirrels etc.
I fired off a text to Cathy saying something about being asleep on my feet, hoping she would take the hint and get a coffee to me somehow. She replied with something like someone was heading up with a coffee. Great I thought and sped up downwards. It was getting light now so I could see the path disappearing into the distance, but nowhere could I see the coffee bearing superhero heading my way.
I skirted round a field full of old cars and vans (this may have been in my mind), and downwards towards Horton in Ribblesdale, the last proper civilization before the final leg to the finish.
Nearly at the bottom with no signs of coffee man, when round the corner stepped Cathy bearing a flask. Yes! I thought, caffeine. Nope - of all the things to put in a flask when meeting someone who was complaining of falling asleep while on his feet, and only having less than an hours kip in the last 48 hours, she had bought hot Ribena??!!

Ribena i ask you? really? Ribena?

I smiled at her, took a drink and sort of grinned a thank you through gritted teeth, but inwardly I was already drinking the coffee that would be waiting at the van - or at least there had better be.

Plodding into Horton, I quickly checked into the monitoring station and then carried on towards the van which was parked along the road a bit in the public toilet car park. The very same ones that saw me and Cathy have a cozy breakfast in a couple of months back.

Arriving at the van in Horton

I was quickly fed and watered, and then the talk settled on the final stretch. It was now about 09:45 Monday morning which meant I had about 10 hours left to cover about 15 miles. This could be a bit tight we thought. If I wanted a safety buffer to take in possible stumbles, getting lost, and the odd rest then I had "better get a wiggle on". Emotions were running high as I pulled out of the car park, now equipped with a coffee in my stomach, a goal in my heart, and a cheese and spinach quiche in my pocket.

Setting out from Horton, on a mission!

This was it, do or die (not literally), there was absolutely no way I was getting this far only to time out and not officially finish in within the 60 hour limit.
I blasted out of Horton (as mush as someone who has just covered 93 miles in 50 hours with less than an hours sleep, could "blast" ) and started the final climb up towards the Cam high road.

This stretch is mostly uphill. Imagine a number 7 lying on its face. You climb and climb and climb steadily up its long back until eventually you reach the top, then it is a very short but steep descent to the finish,
I started up the climb. As we were in Horton, two of the leaders of the full length race had come past,and now as I gained height the third place man shot past. I thought I was moving fast, but these guys were rocketing along, rounding a corner expecting to see him in the distance, he was just gone, nowhere to be seen, he was that quick.

I munched on the quiche as I climbed, it was very tasty and quite moist (I love that word), just what I needed as I couldn't manage anything dry without sipping copious amounts of water to help me chew. It was one of the only savoury things that I managed to completely finish.

Jeff and Cathy had mentioned a possible meeting up near the top of the Cam road, and as I got to the road I expected to see them, but no I was on my own. I had probably gone too fast and they were not expecting me there yet. I carried on, forever upwards, really beasting myself now. Imagine one of those army recruit documentaries where the evil corporal shouted at the slow recruit, "get a blinking move on you piece of ship" (or something like that), I was actually shouting at myself in the lonely misty wilderness that was this place (I checked first for people around me in earshot), marching up the hill, breaking out into short running bits where the gradient allowed, all the time coercing myself along with verbal abuse.

This bit of road was one of those magic "go on for ever" bits you sometimes find. Crossing a small brow in the climb thinking you were near the top, only to see it disappearing into the distance and knowing I had to cover that bit before finding out if it continued further over the next brow. There was not a person in sight and certainly no welcome van.

Climbing and climbing, I was tiring again and started craving my next caffeine hit, maybe it wont actually be until the finish now as I knew I was fast approaching a turn off marking the end of the cam road and the start of the final muddy stretch before the final steep descent to the finish.

Rounding another corner I suddenly made out the van in the distance, right on the above mentioned turn. Awesome I thought - I love them both.

Arriving at the impromptu meeting at the top of the Cam road

I downed the coffee they presented me as Jeff and Cathy marveled at the speed I had covered this last bit. I had a quick bite to eat, not wanting to waste any time I had made up. We had a quick rendition of our event song "Everything is awesome" from the lego movie, really just to pick up the team spirits, it was now nearly over, just about 7km left, half muddy track and half murderous descent.

I marched off into the mist, still speeding along as fast as my tired legs and painful feet could carry me.

The nice ground under foot was soon replaced with a muddy rutted path, deep puddles loomed, waiting to suck me in, but I was relentless, ploughing through everything, praying for the final descent and the finish. My mind started to drift, in and out of full consciousness, despite my forced pace my brain was still sleep deprived, and was doing everything in its power to force my body to stop and take a nap. Suddenly my feet slipped side-wards and I found myself sprawled out on the grassy bank next to the path. I had landed on my side and luckily had avoided any rocks and other nasties, to find myself in rather a comfy position. This was no good, sleeping here was not an option so I clambered back upright and carried on, and happily before long the final descent started.

Now 4km from the finish, I was on the final steep descent. It was relentless, navigation seemed trickier than the map suggested, I should be just following this wall and turning right when it finished, but I was making a right meal of it, getting stuck in boggy sections and needing to circumnavigate other seemingly impassible sections.

My mindset had now taken a huge leap of change. Where as before it was set on pushing on to ensure I would make the cut off in time, I now knew that pretty much whatever happened I had plenty of time to cover this last bit. That was it, my brain relaxed, its job done, and then the pain took over. It had nothing to stop it hurting now, before my brain was masking it to ensure I could carry on at speed, but with this taken away the pain just flooded in un-checked.

The pain was all in my feet. They had been swilling round in watery boots for about 75 miles, and were letting me know that they would be packing themselves to warmer sunnier climes if I did not do something about it soon.

At last, the final field arrived, but what a sting in the tail this was to be, checking the map, it is about half a km long, but is at what seems like a 45 degree angle and churned up with cow hoof prints and the foot prints of 100+ runners before me. Slip sliding down this with hurty feet took ages, and I cursed every moment of it, there was no easy way, it just had to be dealt with.

Breaking out onto the track at the bottom of the field was a relief (but negotiating the stile was interesting) and off I hobbled down the track, still descending steeply, but at least the ground was solid.
A few twists and turns through the village covering the last km, I at last hit the main road and turned left towards the market place and the finish line.

Jeff and Cathy came thundering up behind me, they had been waiting for me to arrive and nearly missed me, but they were here now, taking pictures of me arriving in the evening gloom.

Arriving in Hawes

I plodded along the final bit, a few people clapping as I approached the finish "line", which was a flag at the doorway of the market house, the hall where all our stuff was, as well as food, drinks and friendly people.

The finish line

That was it, I had finished. The relief was overwhelming, as well as the happiness and the knowledge that all that was left as recovery and memories.
I plonked myself down on a waiting chair and Cathy helped me (well actually completely took over) and removed my muddy boots over-trousers and gaiters, then I tottered into the hall to get my medal. I wasn't fussed about sitting down, or resting, or eating, or drinking, I just wanted that medal.

We went over to the medal area and the chap did the obligatory hand shake, medal round neck and photo, then we had a photo with the three of us, me in the middle sagging on tired legs.

Breaking up after the photos, I stumbled a bit, my legs getting the better of the argument to want to rest, Cathy caught me and I luckily remained upright. We went over to where they had plonked my kit bag and I proceeded to get myself sorted out before the drive to my bed.

A quick change of clothing and into something dry, then came the feet. I peeled off my socks to reveal some very sorry looking feet. They had been battered and tortured for 108 miles, 75 of which were while being wet, and they certainly told that story well enough just by looking at them.

I rubbed some foot powder on them as best I could, and then donned some dry socks and my comfy trainers.
Saying our goodbyes I hobbled out of the hall, at a quarter of the speed that I went in at. We walked the (what seemed like) mile to the van (it was only about 10 meters I think) and I climbed in. I really wanted to sleep now, but my brain must have been waking up a bit as it became suddenly very aware that Cathy who was driving probably hadn't had much sleep over the last few days either, and thus I was obliged to keep chatting to her in order to keep her from driving us into a ditch as she attempted to catch up on some overdue sleep.

We arrived at their house, a quick shower, some more foot powder and then a very welcome hot meal cooked by Cathy's husband Paul.

And then to bed.

To bed for a very fitful, sweaty, but long, oh so very long sleeeeeeeeep..........zzzz