Putting the Pennine Way to bed….or maybe not?
Intro
Firstly, may I humbly suggest that you catch up on my previous mutterings in my other blogs as you’ll get a more fuller understanding of where I’m coming from…or perhaps not! I do wear my heart on my sleeve (as the saying goes) and I believe it offers a more accurate depiction of me and the way I tick so please bear with me when I’m waffling.
This next instalment is the longest yet as a lot has happened over the last six months and it’s struck me that I actually really like writing. I’ll cover my training and some personal bits and lots of pictures so you may want to get a hot beverage, or whiskey perhaps.
Here goes…..
Recovery and just a bit of gloating
Building up to June. A memorial visit, Hadrian does an awesome wall, a jog around Snowdonia and someone called Bob Graham
Here’s me at the start looking rather relaxed and ready to get going. We all bunched into the start area and set off through the town and began the first ascent of Snowdon to claps and cheers from passers by. Out came my trekking poles and I got settled down and enjoyed the views. I felt good, the weather was nice n sunny and I was determined to take it steady and not bust a gut.
Game time! It’s only 268 miles..
The week leading up to the race was as usual, spent faffing, flapping, packing and not really relaxing. I’d got all my kit together, had a chat with Tim my coach and good friend and thought about what was to come. I was climbing the feckin walls near the weekend so I went out for a jog to calm down a bit. It did the trick as I thought, come on mate you know what needs to be done just go out and have fun. I must admit, I even started entertaining the idea of actually placing well, maybe even another podium place considering my previous recent previous results. Looking back now, I think that was a mistake as I then began to put undue pressure on to myself rather than just sticking with the original idea of just going very easy and if I don’t make the cut offs so be it. I knew I had all week to finish the race and that was all I wanted to do when I entered the race. It’s funny how once a seed is planted it can begin to grow very quickly.
I did the usual registration and kit check on the Saturday lunchtime, everything went pretty smoothly and there was a good atmosphere at the HQ in Edale where the start of the race would take place the morning after. I said my hellos to a few of the marshalls and a couple of the other racers and went back home to do some last minute faffing and try to get some sleep, I’d need it! I tried not to check the weather forecast for the hundredth time as there’s nothing I can do about the weather anyway. As if checking it every five minutes will make any difference. To be honest, the weather didn’t look too bad. Quite warm but with some thunderstorms here and there. Those effing thunderstorms would come calling later on the Sunday evening.
The day of the race was upon me, the biggest and hardest race I’ve attempted after about fifteen years of serious trail running. I was nervous but ready to get going and once again, I arrived with about half an hour to go before the start so that I wasn’t faffing about near the start for too long. The weather was ok and I opted to start in a tee shirt n shorts as I knew I’d get even warmer as we climbed up Jacobs Ladder. There was a brief speech from one of the race officials before the start and then we were off. I started right at the front, not to make a statement but simply so that I wouldn’t get caught up in the crowd of racers while we went through Edale and then onto the start of the Pennine Way itself. I felt good and all the nerves disappeared as we set off. I had a pace plan in mind and was determined to stick to it. But even going up through the fields I found myself looking behind me to see where the other racers were. Bollocks to what the others are doing, you’ve only just effing started..but I couldn’t help it. When I reached the foot of Jacobs Ladder, I stopped to take a drink from the flowing stream and just to calm down a bit as it was very warm and I was already conscious of my pace and excitement at the start of the race. I knew that in these conditions, water was or could be an issue so I figured that I should top up with water at every opportunity. Jacobs ladder itself is a pretty steep climb but at least it’s right at the start of the Pennine Way so as long as you don’t red line it, you’ll be fine. Out came the trekking poles and I hauled myself up to the summit nice n steady and I knew that once at the top, it’s pretty runnable right to Snake Pass crossing a few miles away. There were a couple of runners nearby but we were all pretty strung out already as we passed Kinder Downfall (where the waterfall often goes upwards due to the wind going up the valley) the leader was already well out of sight and at least I wasn’t tempted to try and chase him! I trotted along and was just admiring the view as the sun was out, I had a packet of my favourite Hula Hoops and kept sipping my drink as and when, all was still good and I was beginning to settle down and tried to concentrate on just me, balls to everyone else!
Some do say that ultras are an eating competition, with a bit of running in between!
Arriving at the Snake Pass crossing, I was pleased to see that there was a couple of race marshalls who were giving out water. I downed one of my bottles, filled it up and went on my way. The next section to Torside Reservoir is open moorland with some runnable bits and a steep decent into the valley. All was still going well and I was hiking where necessary to keep my HR as low as possible. Next up was the long, gradual climb up to Black Hill so I got my poles out again and took it steady. On the way up, I met up with Dave Beales who I have got to know from races and social media. We chatted and ran/hiked together for a while and it helped pass the time for a bit. It was also good too see my mate Jonny Ulett on the way up to Black Hill summit, again we chatted for a bit and I pushed on down the other side of the hill to the next road crossing at Wessenden. As I was descending, I could see that the usual butty van was there at the side of the road. I spent the next mile or so trying to decide whether to grab some food and a can of full fat coke. I don’t drink it normally as it’s rank and puts furr on your teeth but needs must when your doing stuff like this and as it’s full of sugar, its like rocket fuel!
I resisted the temptation to stop in the end and treated myself to an energy gel instead. I was aware that the delightful Nicky’s Foodbar next to the M62 crossing wasn’t that far away and I promised myself that I would stop there and get a treat. The next sections are quite lumpy, with some downhill running then some climbs but nothing too bad. The miles went by, I was still enjoying the views the weather and I was pretty much on my own again. Eventually, I reached Nicky’s and called in for some refreshments and said my hellos. If you are ever in the area, you won’t be disappointed to call in for a butty n brew, Nicky is a lovely lady and the food is most welcome after running around the moors. As I was climbing up to Blackstone Edge, the next hill, I noticed that the weather was changing behind me and it began to start raining only very lightly but just enough. It was actually a relief at first after how warm it had been during most of the day. When I got past the White House pub, it began raining heavier and i decided to put my waterproof jacket on. I only use them as a last resort as you just end up boiling in the bag as it were as no matter how breathable the manufacturer claims that they are, you end up damp either way. Luckily though, the next section to Stoodley Pike above Hebden Bridge is pretty flat, especially passing the reservoirs so I didn’t have to push too hard and become sweaty under my jacket. As I was trotting along, I kept an eye on the clouds that were not too far behind me and approaching fast. They looked horrendous! It was one big, huge black cloud and I knew that the promised thunderstorms were approaching. I could also see that it was pissing it down over the moorland that I had travelled along earlier…creeping closer and closer to me. I knew I was in for a drenching. Then the thunder and lightning began in true Spine Race weather, but don’t get me wrong. I am fully aware of how the weather can change on the hill and I have spent many an hour in some really shite weather in my time so I can look after myself. In fact, the atmosphere was getting very dramatic and rather exiting! The storms finally reached me as I was descending off Stoodley Pike, but I knew that the first major checkpoint at Hebden Bridge wasn’t too far away. I would have the chance to hide from the weather and get some food etc. Pushing on up the final hill before Hebden CP, the black clouds were directly above me, it went dark and the heavens opened. It was torrential and the dry path in front quickly became a stream. I was drenched within a matter of minutes and the lightning was directly above me. It dawned on me that I was using my poles and I thought, shit I’d better put them away or I’ll be a feckin lightning rod! I was hiking along with a couple of other racers by now and we agreed to get our arses in gear and get to the CP as quickly as possible. I was very relieved to reach the checkpoint and was greeted with my drop bag, offered food and a brew while I sorted my kit out and got changed, ready for the night section. I decided to stay there for a few hours to let the thunderstorms pass as forecast and so I had a lie down on one of the bunks upstairs to just close my eyes, I knew that I wouldn’t sleep but at least I could get some rest and dry off a bit. I lay there for about half an hour and just listened to the storm pass. All the clothes I had worn from the start were soaking and now useless, including my shoes so a full kit change was in order after my lie down. I got my feet re taped up by the excellent race medics (who need medals for going near my manky trotters) and got dressed in fresh kit and a separate pair of shoes. Once I’d stopped pissing about with my kit, much to the amusement of the race marshals, I had a compulsory kit check and ventured out to crack on. I felt refreshed, fed and ready to go. It was about 22:30 by the time I set off again and so it was dark. Once I left the road and re joined the Pennine Way to head North, I turned my head torch on, settled down to head for Top Withens and the night section.
The next section was again open moorland and very exposed and it was now dark. The rain had eased from the deluge earlier and I was conscious of trying to keep my feet dry, rather pointless I know! As I got onto the moor plateau, I was shrouded in fog and the wind picked up. The rain was glistening like jewels in the light from my head torch which made it difficult to see where I was going. I did know the route as I’ve been along there many times but I also switched the navigation on my gps watch as back up. Plodding along in the fog and rain, I couldn’t actually see the path as it’s very feint around there at the best of times. I noticed another head torch way off to the right? Who was that? Couldn’t be just a walker in this crap weather, must be one of us lunatics. It made me think if I was off the path but I wasn’t and the light ahead seemed to be rambling around. As I got closer, I shouted to see if they were ok and discovered it was another racer who was a bit navigationally challenged! He’d just got a bit confused in the fog and rain. Just goes to show what can easily happen and the value of reccies of the course during training. We paired up for a bit and chatted until we were off the hill and away from the blanket of fog, I deliberately kept with him just to make sure he was ok and back on track.
Eventually, I began the final climb up to Top Withens and the sight of the novel by Charlotte Brontë and also one of Kate Bush records…I do like a bit of Kates Bush!
By this point, I was feeling fine generally, I was eating and drinking but my feet were again soaked and squelching and beginning to rub. My pace had also started to slow but I wasn’t too worried as I was expecting that. My original game plan was to get to Hebden CP with a good time cushion and then take it very easy to the finish, hopefully. Possibly my first mistake.
The next section becomes pretty flat, compared to what I’m used to and crosses several farmers fields and through a series of villages. It was still dark but it was very humid so I guess that didn’t help my feet either. I was getting worried about how my feet were feeling. But it’s just the same for everyone else I thought so I’d just have to deal with it. I was also having issues with running low on water and I topped up when and where I could but as I normally go through lots of water on these races, I was getting dehydrated. It struck me that I hadn’t had a pee for a long time which is never a good sign. I dread to think of how dark my pee will be by now I thought. I then remembered that the town of Gargrave wasn’t too far away by now and seeing as it was a new day by now, the local Co Op shop would be open and I could get something to eat and drink that would be a bit more substantial than gels and crisps, so that lifted my spirits. Arriving at the Co Op, I got some supplies and sat down outside for a bit to eat and assess the situation. I felt ok still, but my pace had dropped a bit too much and my feet were beginning to really hurt. Please don’t get me wrong, I’m not gonna sit here and give excuses. I’m simply telling you what I was going through at the time and I was fully aware that all the others were having to deal with their issues too. I guess looking back, I was surprised that I was in this state so early on in the race. I kept remembering how good I felt when I ran the Challenger south the year before and achieved a podium place (not that I’ve mentioned it often) how has it gone so wrong at this this point this time? After a good feed and some Fanta Pop ( I’ve never fathomed out why I crave Fanta Orange pop on these events but there you go) I set off and left the town. My pace was now hiking, with very little jogging, I was getting frustrated…and worried.
By the time I’d left Gargrave, the sun was back out again in full force and it was gonna be another warm day. The next landmark would be Malham Cove…and the horrendous steps up to the top. I was jogging when I could but my feet were really getting on my nipple ends! They felt sore, blistered and macerated as my shoes were still soaking wet along with the socks I was wearing. I persevered until I got to Malham and stopped there for a bit to take my shoes and socks off to inspect the damage. It didn’t look good. A couple of my toenails had snapped at the base and were now loose, the soles of my feet were indeed macerated and blistered and the skin on the tops of my toes was rubbed off on the knuckle area, oh shit! I sat there for a while to try n dry my feet off and give them some air but after a bit I thought sod it, let’s get going. As I was hiking along, I took in the stunning scenery around me to take my mind of the discomfort. The area around Malham is stunning and the view from the cove is fantastic..once you’ve dragged yourself up to the top. The climb up to the top of the cove took the wind out of my sails as I was also starting to feel tired after twenty odd hours on the go. At the top I had a lie down in the sun for about twenty minutes, took my shoes and socks off again and just lay there. It felt nice to just chill for a bit but I was still too wired to sleep. I must have looked a bit strange to the other walkers, rather like some scruffy vagrant and they wouldn’t be too delighted if they could smell me either. I stunk, in fact I’m surprised that my shoes and socks didn’t run off on their own while I lay there!
As I say, isn’t the view something else!
Moving on, I didn’t have much further to go to the next intermediate checkpoint at Malham Tarn. Another beauty spot with a lake and more beautiful scenery. I wasn’t moving very well at all now and could only just manage to jog every now and again. I was starting to consider binning it, as to be honest I was just getting really pissed off and frustrated with how crap I was feeling and performing. I knew it was going to be tough, but I guess I just wasn’t prepared for it all to begin to fall apart so soon in the race. I just couldn’t help comparing my performance here to the last time I raced on the same route, completely the opposite. Arriving at Malham Tarn CP, I was greeted by a Spine Race legend John Bamber. He’s well known and always helps out on these daft events. He’s world famous for manning Greg’s Hut further up the Pennine Way and supplying weary travelers with hot noodles during the winter versions of the Spine Race. We chatted briefly while I sat down and had a brew, he also plied me with orange juice which was very welcome. While I sat there, I weighed things up. Bin it or push on to Hardraw where I could rest and feed for up to six hours. There was no point in stopping at Malham anyway so I carried on and thought, stop whining and get to Hardraw where you can stop and rest and give your feet some time to dry out and more importantly I could hopefully get some sleep. If all that could happen, I knew I would feel better so my spirits lifted and I stopped feeling sorry for myself. I was just having a low point and a mental struggle looking back. I’ve had low points in races before and all the others are feeling shite too. So as I hiked along I necked some paracetamol and just made a point of looking around to admire the view. Next up was one/two of the biggest climbs on the course, Fountains Fell and then Pen y Ghent. They were gonna hurt!
It was on the way up Fountains Fell where the wheels definitely began to fall off. I was moving painfully slow and breathing heavily, I really wanted to lie down by now and try to sleep but I just kept going. Maybe that was another mistake? Maybe I should have just lay down and tried to sleep for a bit? In the end, I got my phone out and decided to ring my ever patient wife Natalie for someone to moan too! We had a conversation and I told her I was thinking of pulling out and how I was feeling. But bless her though, she gave my head a proverbial wobble and persuaded me to just keep going until Hardraw, rest there and then see how I feel. I knew she was right and it was the right thing to do, part of me was determined to do that and it was the obvious thing to do. Once again, I felt better after that and once I’d gone over the summit of Fountains Fell, I jogged down the other side and felt quite lifted. Next up was Pen y Ghent and a rather severe steep climb to the top that even warranted some scrambling near the summit. Yep, just what I needed at this point, like a hole in the bollock as someone once said!
Heading towards the climb I actually felt ok, I’d had something more to eat and also had a gel which gave me a boost. I got ready for the climb and dug in. Ascending the steep climb, I stopped to get my breath back and look at the view. To be honest, I was knackered by now and was back to feeling shite and just didn’t want to be there anymore. Something that I can’t recall feeling like before? Finally reaching the summit, after being watched by a drone from the race organisers (I’m actually on an event video clip) I got my breath back and carried on, but by this point, I’d had enough and my mind was pretty much made up. I was stopping at Hardraw as enough is enough. I remember telling myself, what the fuck are you doing mate? You’re in rag order, your feet are trashed and you just don’t want to be here anymore, do the right thing and stop. Again, I know I might sound as though I’m making excuses and it’s easy for some to say that they would do things better, but I’d really had enough and just wanted to stop. I knew that six hours wouldn’t be enough time for my feet to get better, so things were only just going to get worse so why prolong the suffering. I was limping by now and it seemed to take ages to reach Horton in Ribblesdale, the next village on the PW. Passing through the village, I topped up both my water bottles from the outdoor tap at the public toilets and carried on. All I had to do now was head up and over Cam Fell. I knew what was coming up as I’d been there before, a long long slog up a gradual slope that seems to go on for years and then a steep descent down and into the village of Hawes. I had to stop as I went along to check my feet once again. After taking my shoes off, I pulled my socks off slowly but I could feel the tops of my toes had stuck to my socks. So pulling my socks off also pulled off some skin, which was a rather painful experience, followed by some colourful language! That was the final straw, bollocks to this I’ve had enough! The next few miles were a painful experience as I just limped on. I met up with another racer who was also in some difficulty and had decided to pull out at Hardraw. We chatted occasionally as we were both in no real mood for conversation, but it did help the miles tick by a bit more quickly. In the meantime, I’d already messaged Natalie and asked her to come to Hardraw and pick me up, she once again tried to persuade me but I was “not for turning” as someone else famously exclaimed. After what seemed like another day, we got to the summit of Cam Fell and the ground levelled out. I knew we weren’t far from Hardraw now and I once again took in the beautiful scenery as it was a beautiful evening and the sun was not far from setting. However, I looked across the valley to Shunner Fell which would be the next climb and just the thought of heading up there made me feel sick. Again, something I’ve never experienced before during an event. This just re enforced my decision to stop at Hardraw. The steep descent into Hawes was horrendous, I was limping badly and it took ages. I think I fell asleep while walking too, something that has happened in the past. No hallucinations though this time! Arriving in Hawes was a relief and I walked through the town and knew I was only a mile or so to the end. Reaching Hardraw and the early finish, I could see my wife Natalie with her mum who she had brought with her as possibly moral support just in case I was in a really bad state. It was great to see them both and Natalie came over to me and gave me a big hug. I nearly welled up and I’m also surprised that she didn’t throw up considering how bad I smelt! I headed over to the marshals and the racers tent, immediately telling them I was pulling out. They too tried to persuade me otherwise, but to no avail. My race was over and I quickly handed over my race tracker said my thanks and goodbyes, obviously adamant in my decision.
Moving on…
It’s been a few weeks now since the race and I’ve had time to reflect. I’m still happy with my decision, I guess my heart just wasn’t in the race? Maybe I was just all Pennine Way’d out? I’d put a lot of hard work in over the last few years, working with my coach Tim. Had I just lost sight of the basics and wasn’t running purely for the love of it? If I truly wanted to finish the race, maybe I could have persevered and got to the end, others did..I’ll never know. It’s safe to say, I won’t be revisiting the Spine Race series again, enough is enough. But I’m very proud of my achievements during my time racing the event and can highly recommend the races. They are tough, but they are supposed to be tough, that’s why people enter them. There’s definitely no guarantee that you’ll finish.
I’ve had time to rest and stand back from running and it has been good to have a break. I’ve dusted off my cycling stuff and been enjoying going cycling with my good mates. Speaking of my mates, it’s been great to spend some time with them and just have a laugh with the occasional beer or two..I’m chuffed to have some very close mates who know me very well and will always be there for me. You do forget your mates when you’re wrapped up in something else don’t you? Thanks for being there for me lads and you know who you are. Here’s to a few more beers!
Here’s us during a rather messy evening on the lash!
I’ve got some plans for the new year, I’ve entered the UTS 100k in May and I’ve also got my eye on a 100 miler in Austria in August. But there will be no pressure to perform and I will not be entering many races going forward. I’ll always love trail running and will continue to do it, I’ll just be going out for some adventures just for the enjoyment of being out in the hills. I do enjoy cycling too, especially in the Summer so I’ll keep that up too. I do now also feel I have got a lot of experience and advice to give others that I’d like to share. Maybe I will follow that up.
Personally, I’ve had a complete career change which has done me the world of good mentally. I no longer randomly burst into tears and my depression is getting better, with help from Natalie. I’m even beginning to come off my medication and the better work/life balance really helps too. It does help to talk about it rather than just covering it up all the time and that’s another reason why I’ll always love running. Running in the hills makes me feel free and alive and is a fantastic mood boost, better than any medication.
Finally, I’d like once again to say thank you to my wife Natalie. For bailing me out again when I was in the shit and just being there for me. I appreciate what you do for me and as I’ve mentioned before, it must be stressful and upsetting seeing me in some of the states I get in and worrying about me while I’m out in the middle of nowhere. I love you xx
Here’s to new adventures!
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