Into the darkness - Spine 2018 race report.

Erm - a very belated post due to losing my mojo a bit - sorry about that - finally finished it just in time for the next one in a week's time......



Right here goes... After over a year of planning, training, posting on Facebook, and generally boring people with talking about my next race, race weekend had finally arrived. Jeff picked my up and all my kit and we headed north.

All packed up.

We arrived in Edale after a quite journey. I unloaded my kit into the registration hall and queued up for registration.

Now for a little explanation. In previous runnings of The Spine race, the tracker page had little pictures of each runner so when you click on their dot a picture of them appears. Last year I had this in mind when I took off my jacket to reveal a full DJ, white shirt, and bow tie, only to discover that that year they chose not to use the pictures. Gutted. Not put off by this, I had decided to go a little different this year, and chose to wear a tropical Hawaiian shirt and sun hat. Standing there in that attire I hoped that this year the pictures would be used. And as luck would have it they were! Only one slight problem - they need a new photographer!

The picture you got when clicking my dot!

No evidence of sun hat - and not even my head. 

So, picture taken, I headed over to the kit check area. This was a lottery and you either get drawn a "show 3 random things from the list" or you got "show the whole damn lot". Guess what I got? Yes the whole lot. Not to worry, I knew I had everything, and that it was well within the minimum spec of what was required, it just meant spilling out all my kit over the floor and table.

Registration and kit check done, I headed off to the briefing, my massive kit bag in tow, and then onto the B&B where at last I could dump my stuff and travel a bit lighter.

A quick bite to eat (vegetable lasagna) and back to my room for kit sorting and an early night.

Race day arrived, and finally packed I lugged my gear back down the hill to the start, at last dumping my bag with the baggage team before begging the tracker man to re-take my photo - which he did, just to humor me it seems as the photo was never changed. 

I sat there, quietly contemplating how the other runners got all their required kit into such small bags, and just generally relaxing, waiting for the off.

Which came along eventually - we were ushered out into the cold morning air - it was a lovely morning, cold, crisp, not snowy, and dry!

And we were off...

I had put together a list of loose times, just to judge how I was doing compared to last year, and also took times from one of last years racers, again to judge the later areas. First target was Snake pass, and I arrived there with a 30 minute cushion. Now I know I wasn't going off too fast, last year was very icy and slippery so it wasn't surprising that I had already made time up in the first 10 miles.

Approaching Snake Pass (I think)

Bleaklow passed without event, and I was soon down at Torside and the first monitoring point. 15 miles and a 50 minute cushion now. A quick top up with the water bottles and off I toddled towards Black hill and Wassenden.

Another uneventful section and I arrived at Wessenden 1:20 up. At 23 miles Wessenden is almost the gateway to the darkness ahead, so shortly after I added a layer or 2, and changed to warmer gloves ready for the hours of darkness. I was also caught up with fellow 2017 Challenger runner Michelle Payne who was on for the full race this year. We ran and chatted for a bit, Michelle listing all the amazing races she had done, many of them were on my dream list, and me silently contemplating how inexperienced I was in comparison (this was to be only my 5th Ultra) where as Michelle had, by the sound of it done that many in just the last year. I felt very inadequate.

Reaching the next monitoring station at Standedge (28 miles), I was 1:50 up on last years time, a quick top up with water and off I went into the night.

Then came the burger van at the M62 crossing (32 miles). I arrived there with the same 1:50 cushion as the darkness had slowed me down a bit, and I decided on a bit of a re-fuel. I ordered a hot chocolate - yum - the same as last year, but added a fried egg bap. This didn't go down well and I binned half of it and set off over the motorway.

Next target was The White House pub (35 miles). Banned to Spine racers inside, but a good monitoring point outside with hot drinks and flapjack. I was now 2 hours up.

I think it was raining by now, 8pm, 12 hours into the race, and this last long stretch would take me into Hebden bridge, and then finally up to the first checkpoint at Hebden hay.

I arrived at the first checkpoint at 00:33 early Monday morning after 45 miles on the go. By this time I had a 2:45 cushion on my time last year, and and still 2 hours on my target time. Happy with this, and no plans to sleep yet, I had a quick plate of pasta, sorted my (still perfect) feet, and set out into the rain/darkness.

Sorry this is all sounding a bit mundane at the moment - it does get more exciting eventually...

Anyway - by now the rain was coming down proper, the mud of the Pennine way was well and truly churned up, and slips/slides were plentiful. Even the trail running shoes I was wearing were sliding all over the place, and they have a grip pretty much as "aggressive" as you can get in a trail shoe.

My current shoes - the Inov8 X-Claw

I did end up going down in the mud several times, but knew that others were probably experiencing things just as bad (or worse if they didn't have the grip I had).

The route winds round a couple of reservoirs before heading back up into the moors - I avoided the turn I took in error last year, and carried on upwards towards Bronte country. No ice to contend with this year, I was really motoring, making good time as I descended towards Ponden reservoir,now over 3 hours up on last year.

Daylight came and the next section was uneventful, apart from the rain and a few stumbles, and I arrived in Gargrave 3:20 up on last year. A healthy cushion was developing. Not wanting or needing to stop for food in the Co-op I pressed on.

And then I went wrong...

Happily bumbling across muddy fields I completely missed the path and ended up crossing soggy crop fields and climbing over walls to get back on track. I recon I lost about 30 minutes on this detour (it was in daylight also, so absolutely no excuses)

My "detour" in purple

Back on route things were back to normal. Rain was still coming down, mud was still slippery and it was dark again, as we arrived in Malham village.

Time for a sleep... So I headed for the public loos, a favourite spot for fellow Spine racers. Two others followed me in and we called HQ with our intentions to prevent possible inadvertent rescues due to stationary GPS dots.
I got my bag out and laid out under the window, and the other two by the sinks, and set the alarm for 2 hours....zzzz

Up and off we went after a short sleep - which included getting up to have a wee in the urinal just above my feet :-)

The climb up the side of Malham cove and subsequent ascent up to Malham tarn all went well, and after a quick hot drink at the "mini checkpoint" I was on my way again, running into the night in anticipation of the next two big climbs, Fountains fell, and Pen-y-Ghent, the later of which had a detour in place to avoid the iced up climb.
As I got higher the rain turned to snow and the ground took on a pretty white covering. The wind was also getting stronger now, blowing the snow across the path.

Descending Fountains fell the snow went slushy again but the wind remained strong, then ascending Pen-y-Ghent the wind was howling over the wall I was hid behind, trouble was the route - now diverted - involved going through a gate in the wall and heading straight into the wind.
Battling in the headwind, I gradually descended the treacherously slippery steps, and grass banks, and eventually made it down to the warm sanctuary of the Pen-y-Ghent cafe in Horton.

I had a coffee, a can of lemonade, and a vegetarian bean casserole, and then set off into the darkness with Carlos Climent for company.

We ascended up the path onto the Cam high road with the weather really hitting hard now. Strong side winds and blown snow meant full face covering including wind/snow goggles.

On the Cam high road

Eventually descending into Hawes and the waiting checkpoint, we stumbled in from the cold - snow now settling everywhere - and set about sorting ourselves out.
I had a plate of pasta while sorting kit for the next stage and then went upstairs for a kip. I think I managed a couple of hours, before heading back down - a bowl of rice pudding (with jam) before heading out into the dying daylight. Immediately I discovered that I couldn't run unless I used my poles. It seemed that my core muscles were now out of balance, my front being stronger than my back, and unless I supported my upper body by using poles I was stooping forward quite alarmingly. Oh well, running with poles it was then...

It very quickly became apparent that this stage was going to be hard! Strong winds and thick snow soon meant the path was invisible, and footprints from fellow racers lasted less than a few minutes before completely disappearing. It was now dark, and the strong wind-blown snow meant visibility was down to 10 meters or less. Now fully relying on GPS to show me the path, as the path itself was obliterated. Stumbling between the hard path under inches of snow, to suddenly being knee deep as you trod into a hidden hole, the pace slowed to a crawl. The path could be under me, 1 meter to the left, 1 meter to the right, you just couldn't tell, often now in thigh deep drifts of snow, this was energy sapping, having to step high every time I tried to make forward progress. On the path, off the path, falling down, running a few meters, it was a long slow progress...

We (not sure who it was, but the last mile or so was spent with another fellow racer) eventually reached the summit of Great Shunner fell, no stopping there - just onward and down the other side. More of the same ensued, we became separated and again, the trail disappeared in the maelstrom of windblown snow making the descent long and arduous, spending many minutes slogging through thigh deep snow, unsure if it was the path or not, and eventually - several hours later - breaking out onto the track and down to civilisation.

From Thwaite, the path wasn't too bad as it was relatively sheltered, but all too soon the path headed upwards into Stonesdale moor and the high winds, snow, and general uncertainty of where the path was continued. This stretch was particularly exposed, and the drifts were even more leg sapping. I stopped to don another layer as the cold wind was really biting, so on with my primaloft jacket, under my waterproof - much better once everything was done up again. By this time a small group had caught me up, so we carried on together, falling into snow holes, stumbling about, praying for the lights of the Tan Hill Inn to appear. Which it did eventually, 11 hours after leaving Hawes (16 miles back). That leg was slooooow.

I thawed out in front of a roaring fire and had a bite to eat. One of our party was pulled out by a medic with suspected hypothermia and others wanted a rest/sleep - but I was very conscious of how long that leg had taken, so after donning all my layers I ventured out into the snow.

My "view"

Quickly losing the obliterated path in the dark/wind/snow I was resigned to wallowing about on Sleightholme moor, sometimes sinking fully thigh deep in the snow, this stretch is bad enough in daylight with good visibility, so to navigate across it with the above visibility was rather tricky. It took me 2 full hours to cover 2.5 miles on this section.

The next 16 miles was not much better than the last 16 miles, although we had some daylight and less wind, so technically it was a bit easier, but the efforts from last night had really taken their toll and I was like a walking zombie.

I staggered into Middleton and checkpoint 3 on my last legs. 24 hours since leaving Hawes. As far as I was concerned my race was over. I could not move fast enough and the cut off for leaving this checkpoint was looming. I cannot remember if I had anything to eat before crashing out on a bunk, quickly falling asleep.

As I slept all sorts of things were happening - mainly weather related, and as a result the race was paused. All racers were recalled (where possible) and we were not allowed to continue until the morning. The later cut off times were not adjusted however, so unless I sped up to more than double the speed I was managing then it was impossible to reach the next cut off. However I will give it my best shot.
We were woken in the morning to tell us that the race will restart in an hour, so I went to get some food. 5 breakfasts later and I was ready to get going. Then the bombshell hit - the checkpoint manager said the cut off to leave this checkpoint was in 15 minutes time! I was completely unready to go - nothing was sorted, I wasn't even dressed properly, so I grabbed all my stuff, did what I needed to do before leaving, and then stood outside in the snow having officially "left" the checkpoint, so I could continue to get ready properly.

Getting ready having "left" the checkpoint.

Obviously being the last to leave, and thus last in the race, I set off along the river. It was a lovely morning, crisp, cold, not very windy, and a lovely snowscape all around. It was still very cold and icy, but at least the going was easier. I was still unable to run properly and knew that unless I sped right up I was probably going to be timed out at the next checkpoint, but onwards I went, buoyed by the decent sleep and multiple breakfasts I had consumed.

I followed the river round, and then came to a known tricky part not far from Cauldren snout. Here there is a section of rocks/boulders that cover the path and take to right next to the icy river./ The path just goes over these rocks and it is a balancing act to stay upright and out of the river. Many rocks were covered in an icy layer, and in my tired state the inevitable happened and down I went. I nearly face planted a boulder, but saved myself (no idea how) but in doing so I felt my right quad ping. Ouch!

That was it. I was moving even slower now, not faster like I needed. The climb up the side of the waterfall was very tricky with one leg not doing as it should. Eventually reaching the top I had a decision to make. I was on a road which if I turned left to carry on in the race, would lead me up and out into the wilderness for another 12 miles before reaching Dufton and certain DNF.
Turning right would lead me towards a larger road and safety - with easy access by the spine team to bring me in from the cold.

I turned right.

I phoned HQ and informed them of my decision and carried on along the road (which was mostly hidden under 10 inches of snow at this point). It was now dark again and the wind was blowing hard. I needed to get out of the wind and snow while I waited for the safety team to find me. I had everything I needed to stay the night if needed, but it would be better to be out of the wind - and then I saw on the map a handy building a few hundred metres away.

And there it was, a lovely little shelter, I set up my light outside so they could find me easier and lit my stove for a brew - and waited.

A huge thanks for everyone involved in The Spine race. All the checkpoint people, the safety team, the organisers - everyone. And of course to Stuart Smith who drew the short straw and had to brave the weather to come and fetch me.

Thanks - and see you in January for another attempt.

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.

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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. 

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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.

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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.

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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...

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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