Sticks converts to sticks to stick it to the Lakeland 100 again.
And so another year passes by.
This statement could encapsulate so many different things in my life at the moment. I haven’t written a blog for a year. Not because I don’t want to; because I never have time. I wish I could do it more often. (I wish I could do it for a living!) As it stands, my blog is currently pretty much an annual account of my experiences at Lakeland 100 – which is fine, but there are so may other things I want to write about.
Anyway, this is going to be about the Lakeland 100 so, as such, I am going to pretty much ignore everything else and try and stick to the point. The finish photo above is a plot-spoiler in itself (ie I finished!) so, in the spirit of creating at least a little drama, let’s briefly rewind to my previous Lakeland 100 experiences.
2018 Lakeland 100.
A 75 mile DNF at Mardale Head after 23hrs 51mins. Mostly due to mental weakness in very poor weather and a death pact with a friend which saw us both ‘save face’ (or so we thought at the time) by dropping out together. You can read the full blog here:
2019 Lakeland 100.
A finish is a finish is a finish. It wasn’t pretty. I wasn’t in as good shape as I was in 2018. But mentally I was, and I WAS going to finish. And I did, albeit in 34hrs 51mins. Read all about it here:
2022 Lakeland 100.
Three years later I returned older and, perhaps, wiser, with a plan to run somewhere near 31 hours, (although I told everyone else 32.30 to be on the safe side!). The dream run followed, ‘accidentally’ going sub-30 (29h 42m) – which I hadn’t even dared consider possible. Read about it here:
And so, to 2023. The question I was asking myself over-and-over in the build-up was this: was 2022 just a fluke? Could I – should I – realistically be aiming to go under 30 hours again? Can you ever dare hope that a race with such an attritional DNF rate will go smoothly twice in a row?
Obviously, I learned a lot before, during and after my successful 2022 round (I was going to write a blog about it… I’ll try and sort that this year!) so there were many things I kept the same in my 2023 build-up and preparation. For example, I didn’t really think too much about Lakeland until Easter. I used to start training, as many do, on January 1st. But I increasingly found I was bored of ‘long’ training runs by June and, fitness-wise, seemed to peak in May before tailing off into Summer, mentally exhausted as much as anything else. Lakeland has a habit of consuming your very mind and being. So, for the second year in a row, I just concentrated on general running (eg the cross country season with Wigan Harriers) and predominantly speed work until April. March was a bit of a write-off anyway (more later) and we actually went abroad to Crete for a holiday for the first ten days of April, so that was the proverbial line-in-the-sand to get down to the hard yards after that.
Another example of something I really focus on is ensuring I get up to the Lake District to run. This isn’t essential for every race but, for a race which places you at your limit of ability, like Lakeland, I really think it is important to train on the same terrain as much as possible.
I didn’t feel the need to recce the course as such this year; I did the full course in recce mode last year as well as completing the race so, with a few years of experience, I feel I pretty much know the course – including recces, I’ve done the whole lot six times now, and the tricky parts more. But, when training, there is no substitute for Lakeland paths, climbs, descents, false summits, bogs, technical sections etc aside from getting up there and actually doing them.
That said, I felt I was a little bit light in this regard this year. I had to cancel one June trip when family matters took over, which played on my mind a bit, but I had a great long weekend at The Quiet Site near Ullswater in a ‘Gingerbread House’ with Leanne and the girls on May bank holiday weekend, and took advantage with three decent runs in three days; the middle one being a proper 26 mile multi-hour day out including Helvellyn and Place Fell, the others being a pre-breakfast jaunt up Great Dodd including Gowbarrow Fell on the way there and back, and finally a run from the Quiet Site to Ambleside to even take advantage of the journey back home, ie. I ran a bit of it!
(An aside: as experienced campers, the Gingerbread ‘glamping’ experience at the Quiet Site was absolutely amazing and I would thoroughly recommend it! The site itself is only half a mile off the actual LL100 route too, if you really wanted to combine reccying with a break!)
Pics above from Quiet Site ‘Gingerbread House’ bank holiday weekend, including all three runs and a family walk through Aira Force – you know that pretty place you run through every year on LL100 and never stop to actually look at?!
As previously mentioned, I missed out on a June lakes trip, but planned a ‘big one’ on July 1st. Not so big in mileage, only 26ish, but plotted the entire route to be either climbing or descending, valley-to-summits three times, including a couple of sections from the LL100 route by way of recce/refresher. My Wigan Harriers pal Mike Harris was on a fitness comeback at that point, as well as a Lakeland comeback to banish his own personal 2022 demons, and so joined me on an extended Kentmere Round which included: Garburn Pass up to High Street, descending to Hartsop and Patterdale, climbing back up to Kidsty Pike, descending into Mardale before completing the Kentmere Round via Gatescarth Pass. The weather was a bit wild and windy – good prep for race day as it happened!
My final Lakeland visit was the week after, just three weeks before race day, when Leanne and I managed a child-free weekend in (for once) a posh hotel in Ambleside! Leanne kindly said I could run as much as I wanted but it was sort of taper time by then and I certainly wasn’t going to waste a child-free weekend just running when there was rare stress-free eating and drinking to do! So I got up at 5am on Saturday morning and went up Red Screes before linking over to Fairfield and coming back down into Ambleside, all before posh hotel breakfast! Then, we enjoyed a nice day walking over to The Britannia Inn at Chapel Stile to cheer on Lakeland Trails Ultra runners – although it did feel very strange to be one of the people enjoying an afternoon pint in the beer garden while ultra runners streamed past! (I always wondered what that would feel like!). I also nipped out before breakfast on Sunday and did a little Grasmere/Loughrigg loop.
I am very lucky to have an understanding wife who, after the 2018 DNF (which I think she took more badly than I did!), really understands what it takes to succeed in this race. I mention this because something that I think is really important, and under-rated by Lakeland runners (100’s in particular), is resting as much as possible in the week of the race. We are fortunate (Ha! This is a debate for another day!) to work in education and, as such, we always break-up from school a week before the race – which I appreciate is something not everyone else can do! But I really do cash in on this by doing as little as is physically possible that week, and count my blessings every time that Leanne facilitates this! I do nothing except race prep; Leanne sorts everything else required for a family weekend in the lakes. I sleep as much as possible (even more than normal!) and, I don’t think I am exaggerating when I say that this has a major impact on the race.
Another aspect of race prep which I think is chronically under-appreciated is getting mentally prepared. It is so easy (as I found in 2018) to think your way out of a finish before you even start. For me, you have to start thinking positively about the race a week or two before it, and not let any negative thought sneak into your brain from then until the finish line! (Not easy!) There are so many things (especially weather, I find, for this race) which are totally out of your control – and yet people spend time stressing about them. Assume the weather is going to be terrible, prepare for that, and then anything better is a bonus. (I’ll come back to this later!) Whether your training has gone perfectly to plan or not, the week of the race is not the time to worry about it – the week before the race is to mentally plan out how you are going to finish. Some people dismiss this out-of-hand, other people say mental strength is 90% of the battle.
My opinion is this (in terms of this specific race): physical strength/training is the important factor in getting to Dalemain (59 miles) – you need to get there in reasonable shape and a decent level of training is required for this. After that, mental strength becomes the over-riding factor; by Mardale, everyone is tired and something will be hurting – it’s how much you are mentally prepared to suffer from then on which determines your likelihood of finishing.
Mental preparation was a real focus of mine in the month leading up to the race. This did come back to bite me a bit pre-race though, so I will come back to it later!
So, if these things are examples of things that remained the same from 2022 and were the basis of that success, what changed – and why? Well, two things in particular stand out here:
- My age changed! In March, I turned 50. I’d like to tell you I handled it well. I have never given the remotest flying toss about my age before. So why now? Well, as I think I have hinted in previous blogs, turning 50 just brought a crushing sense of my own mortality. Especially as most news stories these days (or even news regarding friends and acquaintances) seem to involve people not making it to 50! As a runner, I just find everything creaks and hurts a bit more these days and, whilst many of you would still consider me ‘quite fast’, it certainly doesn’t feel like that any more. I can’t drive 90 minutes down the motorway anymore without my knees aching so much that we have to stop. When running, I feel clunky and poorly balanced, especially on descents (although my performance in the race may hint otherwise). Generally, as a runner, I just feel really old; those years of club-mates telling me “You’re wasting your fast years!” actually feels true at the moment. However, this feeling of the ageing process did result in one spectacularly good decision…
- I decided it was time to try trekking poles. (Cheat sticks!) Why, oh why, oh why oh why oh WHY HAVE I NOT USED THESE BEFORE?! Jasmin Paris uses them! Killian Jornet uses them! Nicky Spinks uses them! They don’t just use them for fun, do they?! Blimey! Anyway, I’d pretty much decided I was going to use some of my birthday money to invest in some poles. I needed expert advice, so I contacted the one and only Nicky Knappett (#lakelandlegend) as I recalled she had been involved with Leki at the 2022 race. She gave me some great advice and recommendations, so I decided to get some off her. However, on my birthday weekend, I just happened to mention this to my ultra-running brother, Chris (aka Dougie), as he has used poles for a few years. Earlier, he had told me that he had ordered me a present online but it hadn’t come yet. “Erm, have you ordered them yet?” he asked. No, I had not. “Oh good, would you mind just waiting until my present arrives?!” So, apologies to Nicky for not getting back to her and thanks to Dougie for the poles – and to forever changing my ultra running life! I watched a couple of You Tube tutorials and soon got the hang of them for walking uphill, which was where I felt I would use them most. If you are planning on purchasing yourself, I would suggest it is more important to practise where you are going to store them when not using them (mid-race, I mean) rather than worrying about actually using them. One video did stick in my mind though – Gary House said that (paraphrasing here) ‘You won’t necessarily feel the benefit while using them in training but what you will notice is, 15 hours/70 miles into a long race, you will suddenly realise that your legs aren’t as sore as they usually are.’ This was absolutely the case in LL100 and, as such, I can only encourage you to try them and not, like me, wait until you turn 50! Click below for the link to that video – it’s only seven minutes but I have pretty much gone no further than the instruction here and every piece is invaluable.
Click here to watch the excellent Gary House video on starting out with running poles.
Sticks with his new sticks at Sticks Pass! (On the Helvellyn ridge.)
- New bag, new waterproof, new shoes etc. At this point I have to thank Leanne and my parents again! Both gave me birthday money and, certainly in my parents case, I suspect they were thinking of me buying some kind of 50th birthday keepsake. But all I really buy is running gear these days – even a watch would have been wasted money as I had only recently upgraded my Garmin! So, between March and July, I replaced every item of ultra-racing equipment in time to use them before race day: Inov8 Stormshell jacket, waist belt for the poles, second waste belt (Inov8) with 0.5 litre soft flask, new UD Adventure vest (note: NOT the ultra vest – I find the larger Adventure model is needed for the mandatory kit list for LL100, plus the extra kit I want to add in – 17 litres capacity versus 10 litres respectively.), new Hoka Speedgoats x2 (more later!), two new technical t-shirts, new visors, soft flasks, new sunglasses – the lot! Mum and Dad, thank you! Everything you see in the race pictures below was bought by you!
The Race Plan.
I advertise my split projections here with a hint of caution, for a few reasons. If anything, I would rather you look at my race data after the race to get a better idea of where these numbers come from. But, this year, I found myself in a quandary. All my data from 2018 and 2019 was painfully slow. I had ‘made’ most of my time in 2022 by not stopping in checkpoints unless absolutely necessary. I got my total CP time down to 89 minutes – which is still a long time! I was not going to use slow splits anymore but, on the other hand, I knew I was setting myself up for failure if I set too ambitious splits and then fell behind them – this leads to negative thoughts during the race when, really, you need to be channelling 100% positive energy into the race. So I set splits with leeway above which came out at 30hrs 10mins but, you don’t need me to tell you, I never looked at them once – because all I was ever going to care about during the race was, ‘How am I doing compared to 2022?’
This created a dangerous situation as, subliminally, I still felt 2022 was an unrepeatable fluke. But that was the way it was so, in the build-up to the race, I really focused my mind on not being too disappointed if I slipped an hour or so behind the 2022 schedule – a 30 hour XX minutes finish would still be really good.
(nb. If you are attempting to go sub-30 in 2024, my end of race data analysis spreadsheet might be of great use, rather than this info above.)
The Weekend Plan.
Runners are not the only people studying the weather in the build-up to the race! Last year, we camped on the school field for the first time. We had a great time, but we can’t take our big summer camping tent to the race; it’s massive! So we take our smaller 5-man tent which, to be honest, we have outgrown now the girls are getting older. This is fine in good weather, but…
So, one night about a fortnight before the race, I came home from a run to find Leanne and Hannah prepped and ready for me! ‘Mark, don’t shout at us…!’ (a million things go through my mind at this point!) ‘We’ve booked a cottage for the race weekend!’ Leanne knows what a control freak I am about stuff like this, so I tried not to hyperventilate and asked where? (I knew there was no chance of it being in Coniston!) ‘Hawkshead,’ says Leanne. My brain went straight into matrix-style OS-map-of-the-lakes mode, trying to figure the logistics out! She knew I wasn’t going to like it but, and I have to be fair here, it is so easy for us runners on race weekend – we just clear off into the hills for the weekend and have our every whim-and-need catered for – it’s the families who have to live in mud if the weather is bad in a tent they don’t really fit in with portaloos to run through the rain to! This accommodation decision alone turned out to be a master-stroke – the family had an absolutely lovely weekend in a beautiful house, it was Air B&B rather than lakes cottages, so we went up on the Thursday (no Friday morning travel/traffic stress) and didn’t have to leave until Monday (no Sunday camp pack-up when walking is an issue!). Plus, Hawkshead was an absolutely ideal location; literally 10 minutes over the hill on a quiet road that never gets busy. Far enough away to be clear of the crowds and traffic, but close enough to be quickly on site. I know Hannah, for one, will campaign hard for the same accommodation plan every year!
In fact, the only negative was apparent the moment we stepped through the door – it was a town-house property with a kitchen on the ground floor, living room, bedroom and bathroom on the first floor, and the master bedroom and bathroom on the second floor. It was beautiful, but I did make a mental note of the number of staircases in the house and considered that I could be in big trouble post-race!
Hawkshead town-house. Beautiful but… check out all the stairs!!!
Friday 28th July – Race Day.
So, having travelled and settled into our house on the Thursday, Friday morning became a lot less stressful. I got up, had a coffee and breakfast, then ‘nipped over the hill’ at 8.45am to register in Coniston(e!) for the race.
I parked up in the village pay-and-display car park and walked round the corner to – gridlock! It’s funny how, when you are in a car in the queue to get on the campsite at 9am, you don’t notice how many other people are doing the same! There were stationary cars everywhere, including some irate locals who just wanted to drive through the village as normal and could not move an inch! I suppose there is no way around this and, to be fair, as soon as the campsite gates opened, the queue was gone in minutes. But it was my first reminder of how nice it was not to be using up energy worrying about where we could pitch the tent, physically having to pitch a tent, worry if the family were all ok – I just sauntered into the marque with my shopping bag full of essential kit and registered by 9.15! I even got on an official photograph!
It was strange all weekend how, while I sulked about being 50, little things kept cropping up all weekend with a ‘live-for-the-moment’ theme. During the kit check pictured above, it transpired that the lovely lady sheriff on duty was the lady who broke her tibia and fibula in Skelghyll Woods above Ambleside last year whilst running the 50. She has only just started running again. She is perhaps typical of the Lakeland Family feel of the event; if you can’t run – help! I apologise for forgetting your name, lady in the picture above, but good luck with your continued rehab and, hopefully, see you on the start line next year!
I planned to go straight back to the house after kit check to get prepped, but decided to grab a coffee first and say hello to a few people. Therefore, it was very kind of everyone I know to appear in the tent in that 30/45 minute window, allowing me to say hi to everyone and have a right good catch-up with all sorts of people! I must admit, by the end of that, part of me didn’t want to leave Coniston at all! But it was definitely advantageous to do so, otherwise I was in danger of getting totally swept up in the excitement of the event and not getting the required rest pre-race!
It was fantastic to bump into everyone on the pictures above on Friday morning but the special moment was chatting to Jon Cadman, from Wolverhampton. He is a long-standing Lakeland Legend and I have got to know him and his friends well down the years. One of them, Dominic Kemp, another Lakeland Legend veteran, had been having a string of health setbacks in the last year or two, news of which I was kept updated of in 2023 but, by race day, I was actually fearing the worst and not wanting to ask. Dom himself had messaged me that morning to wish me luck in the race and tell me he would be avidly dot-watching but, on his health, he had simply said ‘Jon will fill you in.’ I took this as negatively as you would expect – so it was with great surprise, and with a great deal more joy, that Jon was able to fill me in on the remarkable recovery that Dom was currently undergoing. A fantastic bit of news pre-race – and the second ‘live-for-the-moment’ message within 15 minutes!
And so, back to the house to actually pack the race vest with all the clobber in the shopping bag that had just been checked! It always surprises me how long this takes. Leanne kindly took the girls to the cinema so I had the house to myself to pack and, hopefully, sleep in. But it was nearly 1pm by the time I was happy with my kit and ready to relax.
Simple things like remembering to put phones & watches on charge is so much easier in a house. Last year, my Garmin Fenix 6 solar was pretty new and, despite thinking I had the settings lined up so the battery lasted, all sorts of warnings, alarms and lights were flashing at me through the race and the battery went just short of race distance near Blea Moss. This year, I felt I had it sorted (I did, it lasted fine) I didn’t really want to knock off the heart rate monitor but I would rather the watch finish the race. I also didn’t really bother with navigation settings this time as I know the route so well – I had learned how to turn navigation on and off mid-activity and only put it on a couple of times all race.
So, there I was all tucked up in bed at 1pm with a 3.30pm alarm set and a silent house. Anyone who knows me will tell you I can sleep anywhere: staff meetings, mid-conversation, stood up, certainly whilst running in ultra races – anywhere really. Could I sleep this afternoon? Nope. This was genuinely not a problem I’d ever had before. Every bit of sleep you can have pre-race is precious and, I guess, in the end, I was stressing about not sleeping. The only other thing I can put it down to is the incredible nerves about the race I suddenly felt. This took me by surprise as I had been quite laid back about it in the build-up. But, I think, the thought that it could only go worse than last year, was so consuming my mind that it added to the nervous energy. I daren’t think about going sub-30 again, but couldn’t calm my mind about the potential difficulties the race presents. It just goes to show really, this is not an event to take lightly.
I gave it up as a bad job at about 3pm and got up, dressed and prepared. One slight disadvantage of the accommodation was having to go to the race briefing at 4.30pm ready to race – no going back to the tent to get changed after it. Still, not really a disadvantage as the time between briefing and race start is less than you think and can leave you in last minute panics about all sorts of stuff. So I was pretty relaxed as Leanne again dropped me in the village at 4.15pm and I made my way to the school.
Pre-Race disaster!
What happened next was so bizarre, and so potentially race-destroying, that I still can’t quite believe it. All I can say now is that it absolutely put my ‘positive mindset, whatever happens’ attitude under the most significant distress possible!
As I walked under the finish gantry and towards the school hall, I had that feeling underfoot you get when you have got something like a branch or a plastic bag caught in your shoes. I stopped by the railings to remove whatever it was, only to find the sole of my left shoe completely hanging off! (See pictures below, taken back at home.) I’m not sure my brain could compute what it was seeing because, in all seriousness, how could I set off on the race with wrecked trainers?!
Photos of my 15 mile old Hoka Speedgoat 5s; the sole hanging off as discovered at 4.25pm on race day! (95 minutes before the start!)
Now, before you think I’m some kind of idiot who hadn’t checked his shoes beforehand, let me explain my long-standing, tried and tested race shoe strategy! I race pretty much every trail ultra in Speedgoats (I’ve had 3s, 4s and 5s down the years.) The comfort is something else and, in a race of this length, looking after your legs and feet is the number one priority. My only ever criticism of Speedgoats is, thanks to my flat-footed running style, I wear out the heel tread very quickly. You will recall me using my birthday money to buy two pairs – one pair is used for all my spring/summer training and worn into the ground. The second pair is stored away, used for a couple of runs prior to race day to break them in, then worn in the race with the benefit of fresh shoe comfort and springiness but with the heel tread still in tact to give me maximum grip on the mixed Lakeland terrain.
So the shoes in the pictures above were not battered old things – they had completed two wet, muddy, trail runs for a grand total of 15 miles!
Anyway, this was of no comfort now; what was I actually going to do, this close to the race? My first instinct was to go to Mike’s camper van and see if he had superglue – he didn’t. The Lavery family were camped very close, they didn’t have superglue either. But, to be honest, by then I’d worked out that superglued shoes were not going to cut it over 105 miles and 30+ hours. My only hope was to see if The Endurance Store team had a new pair to buy in the event marque!
I can only apologise to the poor bloke who served me at 4.28pm – and thanks to Julie Lavery who came with me offering to pay for them too. The guy asked me my size and then said ‘Which colour?!’ I said something along the lines of ‘I don’t give a sh*t which colour if you have a pair of size 12s!!!’ I was actually looking down the line of shoes at what the hell else I could wear if they didn’t have Speedgoats, but Julie saw a correctly sized Speedgoat box and that was that, £140 lighter and with brand new shoes on my feet – the no1 ‘Don’t do this’ thing in the ultra racing rule book! It’s a bloody good job I can wear Speedgoats out of the box and, in hindsight (positive spectacles on here), it is a tremendously bloody good job that the sole failed on the old ones BEFORE THE START! Genuinely, if that had happened three or four miles into the race, that would have been pretty much game over, I think. Something else to stress about before future races!
Start line: “Hey, I got my new shoes on and suddenly everything’s right!”
So, heart still pumping out wasted adrenaline, into the race briefing we went, Mike, myself and Matthew Lavery. this was all very last minute due to the shopping spree I had just been on (!) so we found ourselves stood right at the back in the entrance to the hall itself. In hindsight, this wasn’t a bad thing, we could spread out a bit and didn’t have to sit on the floor – I’m not sure my old-man arse and back could take half-an-hour or so of that these days.
As it was my fourth race briefing, I felt that I was a bit of an ‘old hand’ by now and knew all the ‘old jokes’ and one liners that make Marc Laithwaite such an engaging and entertaining (as well as just bloody good) Race Director. But he always finds some way, every year, of just tugging at your heart strings in some way to focus your mind. As such, there is no other race briefing I look forward to as much as this.
And, this year, it was as if he could sense my year of 50th birthday angst. He always used to use the classic Ferris Bueller quote about life moving too fast, and stopping to look around once in a while. But this year, gone was the projector and the well-used powerpoint, he was speaking from the heart. I can’t remember the exact words, but it was along the lines of:
‘You never know what life has in store. You never know if this will be your last chance to ever run this race. So don’t waste it, and don’t drop out if you’re a bit tired. Suck it up, and ask yourself how much you’d want to finish if it was your last chance?’
Blimey Marc, don’t start me off already! I’m having quite a year here! My mind immediately went to Dominic Kemp, who would give anything to be fit enough to be back in a race briefing. My mind went to my number one ultra-running buddy, Rob Lister, stuck in running limbo after a seemingly unsuccessful hip replacement way before 50 years old, who would literally give a limb (his replacement hip, probably!) to be in this race briefing right now. My mind wandered, as it always does, to what life might be like in 12 months time, and whether I would be fortunate enough to be here again. It struck the most powerful of chords that I couldn’t really concentrate on anything else that was said. (‘Live-for-the-moment’ numbers 3, 4 & 5!)
One bit I was ready for emotionally, but which still gets me every year, is Marc’s closing line. I think knowing it is coming just makes it even more spine tingling:
“So, if you’ve nothing better to do, I’ll meet you outside at 6pm and we WILL run 100 miles.”
Beautiful.
Oh, and factually incorrect of course, ‘cos it’s one hundred and frickin’ FIVE!
The Start Line.
Mike and the Lavery family being inadvertently camped so close together made for a nice little team prep area for the 30 minutes between briefing finishing and getting into the start pen. There were a few photos and good lucks from everyone and then it was time to go. By this stage, it’s not really possible to be any more tense – I was already trying to keep my heart rate down! (It had taken most of the briefing to calm down after the drama before it!)
There was still time to bump into more friends: Matt Rushbrook, Mark Moreno and Phil Haddock. The latter two were useful as I thought I’d lost Mike in the toilet queue and was determined not to be late in the start pen, so I asked them to keep an eye out for him as I thought I must have missed him going into the pen. I also got to wish Jonny Kilpatrick good luck as he made his way nearer the front of the start. He was a bit non-plussed as he had no idea who I was really, but I got to catch-up with him and his lovely family on Sunday, so it probably made more sense to him then!
If Marc Laithwaite’s line about meeting outside sends a shiver of emotion through your veins, this is nothing compared to pre-race rendition of Nessun Dorma! Written now, it sounds a bit cheesy but, at the time, in that moment, it is amazing and really creates an atmosphere that you are involved in something special. After that, all that remains is to try and contain yourself until the blessed moment that the thinking stops and, finally, the action starts!
The Race: Part One; legs 1-3, Coniston to Wasdale Head, 19.4 miles – The warm-up!
Part three of the trilogy of emotional pre-race moments for me is the first half mile of the race through Coniston village. (Technically not pre-race, but you know what I mean!) I will never forget how blown away I was by this the first time I did it and am now a little jealous of those people who get to experience it for the first time. It truly is the moment that mere mortals like us get to feel like we are participating in something incredible; the scale, size and volume of the support is breath-taking.
Leanne, the girls and Mike’s family had positioned themselves just outside the village, past The Black Bull, so it was nice to be able to give a proper wave before we settled down into the business of the next 30-odd hours.
I have blocked the first three legs into one because, in my opinion, the race doesn’t really start until Wasdale. My plan to there was to be as slow and sensible as possible. The road steepens sharply out of Coniston and, every year, it blows my mind how many people run up there. I think it is really the pressure-cooker explosion of adrenaline and emotion that makes people do it, but I have learned down the years that making sure I never get out of breath, at any point in the race, is the ultimate key to success. And that starts by walking the uphills, every time, right from the start.
We had started further forward in the start pen this year, so only had a momentary wait at the Miners Bridge where Jon Cadman and the Wolverhampton supporters branch were waiting. Up the single file track, which helps to slow the pace down, we were greeted at the gate by Stevie Nicholls and daughter, which is also becoming an annual event!
The next little release of energy comes at the col where we turn and run back down to the Walna Scar car park. You always get a little bit of breeze in your face here and it is nice to get a bit of a run in down the hill and stretch the legs.
It was here where I noticed a bit of a race ‘celebrity’ to our left (I’m sure he would hate that term!) – Prof Ian Boardley, known to many of you as part of ‘The Endurance Podcast’ hosted by Marc Laithwaite. It was nice to chat to him (mostly about the number of runners around us who were setting off too fast!) and tell him that his race strategy information from a podcast before the 2022 race was integral to my success. It was his ‘keep your breathing under control’ advice which I now employ so seemingly successfully.
Official race pic approaching the Walna Scar car park – never saw the photographer, so concentrating on keeping up with Mike!
Onto the Walna Scar Road we went. We trotted the initial flat section but then, as soon as the incline starts – we’re walking. Out came the poles for the first time. (I hadn’t used them on the single file track from the Miners Bridge as it is very congested there and I didn’t want to inadvertently stab someone!) I planned to use them on every climb; as I mentioned before, you don’t really feel any benefit at the time, but I really hoped I would feel it later if I used them from the start.
At this point, I think it is worth returning to the subject of weather! The conditions as we climbed were absolutely perfect for ultra-running; it wasn’t a hot day, there was decent cloud cover and, also, a stiff breeze which, it turned out, would be at our backs for the whole first half of the race. Perfect. (We won’t mention the fact that it was then in our faces for the last half of the race!) As I keep saying, my race mantra from the get-go (I don’t do mantras, but you’ll get my drift) is to think positively throughout and not let any negativity seep in – ESPECIALLY about weather! We are in the chuffing Lake District, for goodness sake! I have done this event in 2018, 2019 and 2022 and, each time, experienced initial heat and then significant, prolonged rain on every occasion. This year, the weather throughout the race was about as good as you could ever wish for. (Although I have seen the video footage to prove that I dodged one major rainstorm in the Buttermere area by being through there quite quickly.) Saturday was never hot but often very pleasant. Yes, there were showers, some heavy, but they went away and, yes, by Saturday tea-time the wind was very strong – but I’d take that over still, sticky and humid. My main take-away from my 2018 failure has always been to just ignore weather completely – be dressed for it, take the relevant kit to deal with it, and then get on with it. (Lecture over!)
We walked sensibly up to the pass and then, I think, descended it slightly more sensibly than usual, as we reached the checkpoint in 1hr 29m, a minute slower than the year before when we had a significant delay at the Miners Bridge. I was really pleased with this, as it proved we had started sensibly – bearing in mind my 2019 and 2022 experiences on leg 2 (more in a moment).
I cannot leave leg 1, however, without mentioning a comedy caper moment which, if I left it out of the blog, Mike would slaughter me for not giving an honest account of the race! The last mile or so into the checkpoint is a gently descending country lane which allows you to gather your thoughts, and your equipment, prior to the CP. Two things happened here which made me look like a complete amateur buffoon and caused Mike no end of mirth!
Firstly, the poles! I have mentioned previously, storage during the run is as important as actual use. I own a lovely Salomon Pulse wait belt which holds them snugly in place. However, for Lakeland, I use a bigger belt with more storage and an additional bottle holder, an Inov8 Race Elite belt, which wasn’t as good for pole storage. So, in the race build-up, I had practised storing my poles at the bottom of my race vest using some toggles which, whilst not as secure as the wait belt, worked just fine. However… my poles came with some little ‘snow aprons’ (picture the bottom of a set of ski poles), which I had never bothered attaching to my poles as the weather in Spring and Summer had been so hot and the trails so dry. My brother reminded me that, without these on, your poles just disappear into mud and bogs and, as the weather had been so wet in the build-up to the race, I attached the ‘snow aprons’ to the bottom of the poles for the race. The effect of this was that the poles did not fold up quite so tightly together, and the effect of this was that it allowed just enough ‘wiggle-room’ in the toggles of my race vest to work themselves loose if I bounced too rapidly down descents! Sooooo, down the country lane we went and out onto the road bounced my poles – at least twice! Cue much swearing from me and giggles from Mike!
But that wasn’t all! Secondly, my nice new Inov8 waist belt is a beauty and actually has quite a bit of storage. I decided, while packing in the house earlier, that I might as well put things that I want to hand – food, snacks, hydration tablets, salt tablets etc – in the waist belt as they are more immediately accessible. I keep all these things in separate little sealable food bags. I don’t think I quite comprehended how many little sealable food bags I had put in the waist belt though as, when I tried to find my High5 hydration tablets to put in the soft flask approaching the CP (to save valuable seconds in the CP!), could I find them? I think I pulled six or seven different bags of goodies out of that waist belt, and none of them were my water tablets which had settled themselves nice and conveniently at the very bottom of the belt! I think I dropped one or two of these bags on the floor as well, which Mike enjoyed immensely! I persevered with this waist belt over-packing problem all the way to Dalemain, where I took a couple of extra minutes to re-distribute snacks and tablets to more appropriate pockets! (THIS is probably the reason why the leg took us a minute longer than last year!)
Anyway, fannying about concluded, it was literally into CP1 just to put water into one flask (I try to make sure I am drinking at least one, and usually both, soft flasks between each CP) and then straight back out onto the road for leg 2. Apologies to Kellyanne and Rachel, from Harriers, who were working CP1, I’m not even sure I said hello! In and out in less than a minute. Last year, I hit on the idea of making a voice recording on my phone of how long I spend in each checkpoint (CP) to encourage me to leave them as quickly as possible; I had already decided I would do this again.
On the subject of time, I will refer to the splits throughout this blog but, in reality, I don’t look at my watch at all during the race, time-wise, because I just ensure I am moving at a comfortable pace which keeps my breathing regular and stable. I look as I reach a CP – the only time I will think ‘Oh look, I’m 5 minutes up/down on last year’ – so that I can look at my watch again as I leave the CP and then record exactly how long I have spent in the CP.
Through the woods and the farmhouse we went, out onto the sharp little rise in the woods to start leg 2. It has been here that, in 2019 and 2022, I had strange overheating/hyperventilating episodes. I was determined to go slow enough this year for that not to be a problem and, despite how muggy it always is in those woods (I wonder why that is?!) I was really pleased with how comfortable I felt.
It was here that we passed Kelly from our running club. She had been part of the ‘running out of Coniston brigade’ and, to be honest, I hadn’t expected to see her again so early in the race. She said she felt really hot – it was – so I just said to take some deep breaths and take it easy and she would soon feel OK again. She often runs with a lad called Jamie and we met him on our way through the deer gates to the next farmhouse. He seemed OK and we joked about how early he and Kelly had separated. I never saw them again after that, but they ran quite a bit together and both completed the race at the first time of asking, which is a terrific achievement.
Kelly and Jamie at Dalemain – debutant Legends! Great achievement!
The main effect of the really poor weather in the Lakes in the build-up to the race was that paths that had been hard baked for three months were now much softer and, the main problem, bogs and streams that had been dry a month before were now wet and over-flowing! This means that you know your feet are going to be gently soaked for the entirety of the race, which creates the obvious problem of soft feet becoming rubbed or tender or blistered – or worse. I would love to do this race in dry conditions underfoot one year (I missed the dry, hot race of 2021) and our first taste of things to come were the bogs at Grassguards. To be honest, it wasn’t quite as bad as I thought it would be; but it was bad enough that there was no chance of keeping your feet dry, and so began the gentle disintegration of the feet that would slow me down a little towards the end of the race. On the plus side, my new Speedgoats hadn’t disintegrated!
I always enjoy emerging from the trees at the top there as you seem to get another waft of fresh air. We dropped through the rocks and bracken quite quickly (it was a good year for bracken growing!) and, before long, were alongside the river making our way towards Boot.
Another comedy moment ensued here: the path largely hugs the river, so Mike and I were trotting along fairly aimlessly really when Mike suddenly said ‘Is it left or right?’ All I knew was that we stayed next to the river until St Catherine’s church, so I said ‘Left!’ It must have been an open farm gate or something because, very quickly, we realised we had emerged into a field and definitely not the path, which was the other side of a dry stone wall! As is inevitable in these situations, a few runners behind had already followed us so we had to sheepishly apologise to them as we scaled the dry-stone wall to get back on the path. Our embarrassment was only amplified by jumping off the wall to come face-to-face with an enormous bull blocking our path! Now I don’t mind admitting, if I was not in a race there is absolutely no way I would have run past the nose end of that bull! I just worked in the assumption that at least 100-odd runners had already passed and, if the bull felt like killing someone, it would have done it by now!
Into Boot we went, applauded from the beer gardens (Oh, to be back in the Britannia Inn!) and, despite more cack-handed fiddling with my bags of tablets and snacks, we reached CP2 bang on 3 hours; actually 1 minute faster than 2022. This was encouraging, as I felt I was literally moving as steadily as I dared without actually becoming slow. Bottles prepped and filled in a minute again, I decided at the last second to grab a cup of flat coke – I felt good and wanted to make sure the next leg was just as easy.
Mike had already filled his bottles and, when he saw me going for the coke, he decided to set off. This is perfect pairs running – don’t wait for the slower person, get moving and, hopefully, they will catch-up.
So, after a 2 minute stop, I was climbing out of Boot with Mike somewhere ahead. I am forever telling him to ignore what other runners are doing in ultras and control your own pace. So here was a little test for me; I pretended he wasn’t there, 100 metres in front, and just went at my own pace.
The third leg is the easiest of the race and also one of my favourites, (not just because it is the easiest!) Once you have climbed onto the moor top, the entire Wasdale massif is suddenly looming in front of you – the sense of scale, and wilderness, is quite awe-inspiring, especially in the dusk conditions. The bogs on top were wetter than usual but, again, not quite as bad as I thought they would be, and I was soon crossing the tributary streams at the end of Burnmoor Tarn. (I spectacularly messed one such crossing up, going up to my ankles with both feet, so it’s a good job the feet were already wet!)
On went the headtorch in practically exactly the same place as I always put it on; just beginning the descent into Wasdale – that was one less thing in my waist belt to contend with! This is the first of a series of night time descents that I really enjoy and I caught Mike at the bottom as we passed the National Trust car park. We trotted on the road and I sorted my water-bottles again as we approached the ever-lively Wasdale CP managed, as always, by the superb Sunderland Strollers. The fairy lights on the little footbridge are always a welcome sight and it was soon apparent that they had a Grease theme going inside! CP3 at 4hrs 20, two minutes up on last year but bang-on when I expect to get there. And we’d done it really comfortably as well.
Part Two; legs 4 & 5, Wasdale Head to Braithwaite, 19.4 to 32.8 miles – Cruise control!
There is something magical about leaving the Wasdale CP. This is what we come for! (Or I do anyway!) Three relatively easy legs in the bag – here’s where we get going for real. The night time section is where a run turns into an adventure. I absolutely love it. We made sure we ate something as we walked in to the start of the Black Sail Pass climb. This is the first ‘proper’ climb of the race; a bit steeper, a bit rougher, a bit longer and a bit more challenging than anything so far. We started to climb towards the stream crossing and could hear the water from some distance away. I think every runner had seen a social media post of someone trying to cross the stream earlier in the week in what looked like full-on spate conditions, so I think we were both wondering what was in store for us higher up!
The poles are awesome – I think I’ve mentioned already! The steeper the climb, the more useful they are. Imagine climbing a set of stairs, and where the effort is in your legs when you do so. Then imagine the same set of stairs with a bannister on either side and using your arms to help you up the stairs, and how much less effort that is for your legs – that is what using poles on a steep climb feels like.
The stream crossing was interesting, but not terrifying, and we were soon on the steep switchbacks above. Anyone who has participated in the race will know that this spot has just about the best view in the entire race – with each switchback you can see the stream of headtorches back down to Wasdale and leading down into it from the moor – truly breathtaking.
We hit the plateau before the final switchbacks up to the col. Mike was still behind and going well although, unbeknown to both of us, we were about to be separated for good between here and the top. Mike loves to chat as a distraction mechanism, which is directly the opposite of me! In a race, I don’t really want to talk to anyone, I want to concentrate on what I’m doing. Anyway, I just assumed that I had either ignored him, or the effort of the climb meant he had stopped talking, but I had no idea that he wasn’t behind me as I topped out and began to drop down towards Black Sail Hut. (I’ll save his result for later – a bit more drama!)
This descent is quite treacherous in light and dry conditions so, in the dark when it is damp, it is not for the faint hearted. As soon as I started to drop down there were about seven people in front of me all making hard work of it. I made sure I was past them all before the single file track bends off to the right. This gave me a clear sight of the line below and I could go at my own pace; the chat from runners behind me was soon out of earshot.
Descending carefully over the slippery grass bank towards the bridge, I was suddenly in my element. All alone in the night, feeling good and with nothing to worry about other than ensuring the next step was a safe one.
I was past Black Sail Hut itself and up to Scarth Gap in what seemed like no time (‘I LOVE these poles!’) and was soon descending towards Buttermere. I love this tricky descent too and one of the perks of the quite strong wind was that it was blowing the rocky paths dry within seconds of any drizzly conditions stopping. Conditions were still perfect for me and would remain so until The Old Coach Road, (where it always bloody rains!)
I was so happy at this stage and feeling so good that I seemed to arrive in Buttermere without really thinking about it. My watch confirmed this too; I was a full 16 minutes faster than last year to CP4 – 6 hours 21 mins – which shocked me to be honest, as I was still moving at what felt like a very controlled pace and didn’t think I would be as fast as last year.
I stuck to last years plan and filled my bottles (prepped on my way in to the CP), grabbed a cup of coke and a blessed hotdog with ketchup – annually one of my very favourite bits of CP food in the whole race! Again, I did all this in two minutes and ate the hotdog as I made my way through the woods.
Emerging onto the fellside for the long drag to Sail Pass, the wind was picking up but, as earlier, it was totally at our backs, making for rapid progress even though I walked the majority of this section. You have to be quite careful on this path as it is very thin, with a drop off one side, and much of the path concealed by bracken. For most of it, I find it simply isn’t worth the risk of running too much of it. If anyone caught me up, as one or two did, I asked them if they wanted to go past. A couple did; one guy said no and tailed me up the entire way. He had never done this section before, so I think he appreciated someone guiding him as to what was coming next, (‘Three inland tributary crossings and a steep bit at the top!’) whilst still maintaining my ‘Concentrate, don’t talk’ strategy. (This still didn’t work once, as I still managed to slip off the path between streams two and three! Fortunately, just a soft landing on my knees in bracken!)
The last push up to Sail Pass is perhaps the steepest section of the course, aside from a pitch up Fusedale, and, again, I was grateful for the poles. I really felt they were powering me on and my confidence was sky high. We topped out in very strong winds – still at our back – and began the descent to Braithwaite. I was careful here not to get too cavalier as I was feeling pretty good, and I think this constant reigning in of my natural instinct to belt down the descent paid off in the long term.
Again, Braithwaite came quickly and I was thrilled to find myself in the village at 8hrs 4mins, a full 21 minutes quicker than my dream run of 12 months prior. At this point, I knew my pre-race nerves, or imposter syndrome over the sub-30, was just that – a false worry. I had got to Braithwaite in really good time, whilst actively trying not to push on.
Last year wasn’t a fluke, this was where I belonged – and there was no reason why that shouldn’t be the case all the way to Coniston.
Part Three; legs 6-8, Braithwaite to Dalemain, 32.8 to 59.1 miles – Focus, focus, focus.
Last year, my quick Braithwaite stop was down to the temperature in the village hall – I had planned to properly stop there but it was just too hot inside. This year, I planned to go straight through. It really helps to run the next, flat road section to Keswick if your legs haven’t stiffened up. I did get a cup of tea (to go!) here though and perused the spread of snacks for something to take with me. I was actually looking for something like orange segments when I suddenly spotted something at the back. “Is that Corned Beef Hash – Pie?!’ Yes Sir, it was! You beauty! I took a big slab of that down the road with me and thank you very much to whichever kind volunteer made it for us – absolutely superb! (At 2am!!!)
I trotted along the A66, which is always a little surreal when you have been on the fells in the middle of nowhere an hour before. I had another waist-belt faffing moment as I entered Keswick before the climb up to Latrigg car park. I could no longer find my salt tablets in the pouch and assumed I must have dropped them when I had my last one. I had a new bag full at Dalemain so it wasn’t a disaster, but mildly inconvenient when they seem to help stave off cramps so well. (It turns out, once at Dalemain and finally sorting the pouch out, that I hadn’t lost them at all, I’d accidently stuffed them into a different pocket of the waist belt that I didn’t even know existed! Honestly!)
Out came the trusty poles for the trek out of Keswick and, by now, with the field so strung out, you start to yo-yo back and forth with the same runners over the next few legs, all the way to Dalemain really. I fell into conversation with one or two people along the way and, of those who had done it before that I met before Dalemain, most were aiming for the 28 hour-ish barrier. As with last year, it never really crossed my mind that, because I was with these people 30-odd miles into the race, I could (should?) be aiming for the same thing!
There is another magnificent viewing point before reaching the car park, when you can look to your left and view the long string of headtorches making their way off the fells into Braithwaite; I don’t think I will ever get tired of views like that! (It used to be light by the time I got here!)
Another magnificent view, and another favourite part of the route, is the Glenderaterra valley. The first two years when I got here, it was light, last year when I got here, it was dark but I was actually up in the cloud so visibility was poor. This year it was simply stunning. As I turned up the valley I could see a few lights way down below on the opposite side of the valley, maybe just seven or eight and, up ahead at the valley head, there were five or six lights dropping lemming-like from the unmanned dibber in the corner down to the stream crossing at the bottom. It was absolutely magical.
The path was pretty wet and boggy where it wasn’t rocky, so care was needed not to have any silly accidents at this stage. I was also very aware that, whilst things were going really well again, it was mostly due to concentration and focused effort. Last year, every watch check was an amazing surprise and this led to me ‘skipping through the countryside’ with wild abandon – this year, certainly from this point on, I was expecting to be matching my times from last year, so there wasn’t that wild, happy element of surprise. It’s very hard to explain but, I think what I am trying to say is, I knew I was working for it this year. Last year it just happened. The lack of pre-race nap was definitely having an effect on me, and I made sure I was eating, drinking on the go as I always felt that I could enter a ‘slump’ phase if I didn’t focus on what I was doing. (Maybe the pre-race shoe stress also played a part.)
Anyway, it was certainly an uplifting moment to drop down from the unmanned GPS point and turn back towards CP6 at The Blencathra Centre. One unusual aspect of this section was that, for the first time all race, as I ran back out of the valley, the south-westerly wind which blew in increasing intensity throughout the race, was into my face for the first time! It was quite a stiff wind too, which might at least partly account for the terrific progress made through the night with it at our backs the whole way! It is also a tremendously uplifting moment (and just a great view!) to look up to your right at this point and see the stream of lights making their way into the valley that you are just leaving. It looks like they are miles in the air!
And so, into CP6 I dropped at 10hrs 8mins, 22 minutes up on last year, maintaining the good progress. Blencathra is always a good checkpoint – who doesn’t like a bit of heavy metal at 4am?!
Another successful two minute stop here, then back out of the door with a cup of tea and some jam on toast in hand! To this point, I had dodged any bad weather around and had not needed to think about the rain jacket yet. However, descending the field from the CP and facing back south into the wind, what looked like a wall of rain was approaching.
I decided to stop in the trees just below to finally get the jacket out and put it on. So I was not happy when, by the time I hit the old railway line five minutes later, the rain had already stopped! Dawn was approaching but it was warm and I didn’t want to leave my jacket on longer than necessary, but I was moving well, so I decided to keep it on for this flat section and then, once on the climb up to the Old Coach Road, out of the tress with a view around me, if the weather then looked clear I would take it off.
I was joined for a minute or two leaving the railway line by a guy who had taken a slight wrong turn. He was a touch older than me, I guess, but a great guy with exactly my positive mindset! “Why do people always moan about this leg? It flatish, easy miles that you can just knock off!” Exactly, my friend! He too was aiming for sub-28, he’d missed it by seconds last year (I think that was him) and he was soon gone off ahead. I hope he made it.
Once on the boggy field climbing to the Old Coach Road, the weather looked clear, so I stopped, packed the rain jacket away and could also now take the head torch off, so that went away as well – I did have a little wonder to myself, as to whether I would actually need the headtorch again at this pace? What a luxury it is to not have to do much of a second night! There was a long way to go before that was achieved, though.
As with other wet parts of the course, it was boggy on the climb but not disastrous, and I was soon on the Old Coach Road itself where, guess what, it immediately absolutely pissed it down! This was full-on, Lake District, everything is soaked in seconds, rain. Just like it had done ALL FOUR TIMES I have done this race on The Old Coach Road! So, for the third time in half-an-hour: stop, bag off, jacket on, bag on. Probably five minutes wasted in total but, on this occasion, the weather was clearly in for a bit.
As I was now used to, it threw it down the full length of the Coach Road to Dockray CP but, despite the stops, I had added a couple more minutes to my buffer from 2022: 12hrs 2mins, 24 minutes up. I actually rang Leanne approaching the CP (5.50am!) just so she knew I was likely to be in Pooley Bridge even earlier than last year!
I always go for the soup in Dockray – mostly because I am usually dithering after the wind and rain on The Old Coach Road! I think, from memory, it was vegetable soup, something I wouldn’t bother with normally, but beautiful after 49 miles! The team in this CP are awesome as it is only a marque and quite exposed to the weather. The soup was like molten lava so took a couple of extra minutes to drink (I wanted to finish it so that they could rinse my cup before I left!) which explains the ‘long’ five minute stop here. I also had a sandwich or two – it is useful to be fuelled up here as it is 10 miles to Dalemain and nearly all runnable if you are feeling good. I didn’t take a drink with me as it stops you running down the road!
Free of tea, I ran down the steep lane to Dockray village and, also in keeping with other years, by now the sun was shining again! I ran down into Aira Force under the shade of the woods and decided that, instead of being hasty, I would keep the jacket on until I turned uphill on The Ullswater Way.
Two downhill miles rapidly knocked off, it was clearly now a lovely morning, so the jacket could come off with confidence and didn’t go back on again until after Kentmere. Out came the sticks (awesome!) and I was soon up the steep little pitch before rounding Yew Crag. It was nice to know this area well now, after our Quiet Site holiday, so what used to feel like a long drag now felt like a quick hop across to the long tarmac section to Dalemain. I walked and refuelled the first little bit of road – don’t push it now – and waited to run until the long downhill stretch of lane, but then did run all the way to Dacre. Little walk round the castle, and then run on the farm track into Dalemain. It always feels like such a milestone to reach here, and it was certainly a shock and a joy to get there at 8.21am! As before though, I was very aware that I was working hard for this; not pushing the pace – far from it – but working hard to focus, concentrate, and not waste a moment of time unnecessarily. Into the CP marque at 14hrs 21mins, a full 30 minutes up on 2022.
Part Four; legs 9 & 10, Dalemain to Mardale Head, 59.1 to 75.6 miles – Family, friends and fiery feet.
I was pretty determined to make inroads into my 19 minute pit-stop at Dalemain last year. As it turned out, this year I was a bit longer – 21 minutes – due to the additional admin of finally sorting out my waist belt over-load into different pockets! I have a pretty decent Dalemain system now of taking all spare, unused snacks out of my bag and replacing them all with pre-counted, sorted snacks from my drop-bag – I learned this after losing my mind trying to work out how many of each snack to add in my Dalemain CP meltdown of 2018.
I ate two bowls of stew and had a few cups of sweet tea here as I changed my t-shirt and base layer. I never bother with shorts, socks or trainer changes these days – everything gets wet again so quickly, I really don’t see the point of changing them.
As I did this, the guy next to me said “It’s GB Sticks isn’t it?” Yes, that’s right. “Nice one. I like your race blogs!” Thanks Phil Tickner! Here it is – you’re in it! I haven’t seen him since but, looking at the results, he finished in 28 hours – AND SIX SECONDS!!! Would you laugh or cry?! Congratulations Phil, and please accept my apologies for speaking to you for a valuable minute that cost you your 27 something!!! (And further evidence that I was in with the ‘low 28 hours’ crowd at this point.)
I felt like I did everything as quickly as possible but, as I said above, I was there 21 minutes, so the Dalemain CP is – again – a focus for potential time saving in future races. On the positive side, I was pleased to be leaving Dalemain before I even arrived there in 2022.
The next leg to Howtown is always one to look forward to due to, firstly, seeing Leanne and the girls in Pooley Bridge and, secondly, having the familiar faces of the Lavery family to look forward to at the Howtown CP, plus Kellyanne and Rachel from Harriers this year. Thirdly, it’s probably the second easiest leg of the race and a scenic one with superb views as well, especially on a lovely sunny morning as it now was.
It’s always a bit of a battle to get legs moving after a sit down stop, so I carried a ‘treat’ bottle of Lucozade out with me on course, to throw into a bin at Pooley Bridge. At the road crossing I had my first meeting with a true Lakeland legend amongst all Lakeland Legends – I passed Matt Neale here who was going for his record 14th completion. We were to pass each other backwards and forwards all the way to the approach to Tilberthwaite from here – I think I saw more of him than any other fellow 100 runner on the day – and it was an honour to share the course with him. Congratulations, Matt!
I was soon in sight of Pooley Bridge itself and had the welcome sight of the family in the village. They had only just made it! Leanne went to pick up Mike’s family (and excited dog!) from Coniston, which I knew would be a really great surprise for him when he passed through. There are so few places for the family to watch (understandably, I might add) – Leanne is one of those who would drive to every nook and cranny of the Lakes if the event allowed – so it really does give you a boost of energy to see them. Mike’s wife, Katherine, told me that he was through the Dockray CP which was great news as it meant he was maintaining his good start (he had a bit of a slump through the night, it transpired) and should be in and out of Dalemain before the 50 runners.
Into Pooley Bridge just after 9am, armed with Lucozade, and the warm welcome from Leanne and the girls – and the Harris family!
Powering up the climb out of Pooley Bridge, (have I mentioned the poles?!) two things were making me chuckle: the first was how much head-start I was going to have on Jon Cadman doing the 50! (We’d joked about him hunting me down, as his sub-12 usual time would put him on collision cause to catch me roughly around Tilberthwaite!) The second was how Rachel and Kellyanne had to report to Howtown for 10.30am and, at this rate, I would get there at the same time as them!
As I turned right at the Cockpit, however, I had the first tinglings of tenderness from the soles of my feet. This is inevitable after 15 hours of gently soaking them. The ball of my right foot was sore as was most of the sole of my left foot – I would need to monitor this. I could only feel it when I ran the rocky descents, walking was fine, but there are a lot of rocky descents in the last 30 miles! Anyway, all good for now, the views were stunning, I hadn’t seen a single runner for ages, aside from people out for a regular morning run – all was good.
As the rooftops of Howtown came into view, a glance at my watch told me it was 10.20am – blimey, Kellyanne and Rachel had better have reported for ‘work’ early – I really might beat them there!
And so I dropped into Howtown at 10.23am – 16hrs 23mins race time, still holding 29 minutes against 2022. Within a minute either way, I had pretty much run every leg to date identically to 2022 – but done legs 4 & 5 faster. Approaching the Bobbin Mill, the first person to see me was Tom Lavery (aged 12) who ran round the corner to alert the crew! His Mum, Julie, was her usual enthusiastic self and told me that Matthew was near Dockray, which she thought was a bit slower that he’d hoped. As for Kellyanne and Rachel? Not there yet – I really had beaten then there! (This became a bit of theme for the day – quite a few Wigan Harriers were going to Ambleside to support and I beat them there too!)
Julie Lavery at Howtown CP giving it the full Lakeland volunteer enthusiasm treatment!
No time to wait for my fellow Wigan Harriers though, after a four minute break, I was re-tracing my steps out of the tiny hamlet, and heading for the mighty Fusedale.
I have done Fusedale in terrible wind and rain, queuing in the crowd of 50 runners, on more than one occasion. So it is always a nice boost to be out there pretty much alone in lovely weather. The wind was definitely picking up though and I knew that, once we turned westwards onto the Haweswater path that would be it, wind into the face pretty much all the way home (and it was forecast to get stronger!). Through past experience I know now that the climb is almost exactly one hour, and there really is nothing to do except put one foot in front of the other and trudge it out. Positive, positive, positive – from High Kop onwards you are turning for home.
As I expected, I topped out on High Kop at exactly 11.30am – Lakeland 50 start time – and had a little chuckle to myself; surely Jon couldn’t catch me now? What a head-start I had!
At the risk of repeating myself here, the boggy top was wet enough to keep feet soaked but not excessive, and I was able to run this soft surface part of the descent with no real issues created by my tender feet, until the rocky, bracken section right at the bottom, where I was passed in quick succession by four fellow 100ers: including Matt Neale and a lad called Jonathan who, along with Matt, I would be seeing a lot of between now and Blea Moss. We all hit the bottom together and, on an otherwise empty path, formed a 5-man ultra train that was together pretty much all the way to Mardale Head! This didn’t bother me initially as my sore feet meant I was definitely the slowest of the five but, as we got further towards Mardale Head, I certainly wouldn’t have minded passing the lad at the front as I could have gone a little bit quicker.
Still, it was energy stored and saved. Aside from the sore feet, I was feeling pretty good and still fully-focused on not wasting any time. CP10 finally loomed into view across the bare lake bed of Haweswater (whose water level was still very low) and we dropped into the CP together just before half-past one, 19hrs 26mins race time, still holding a 26 minute advantage to 2022.
Part Five; legs 11 & 12, Mardale Head to Ambleside, 75.6 to 89.4 miles – Dig in and head for home.
If you have been paying attention to this point (and you’d better have been, there’s a quiz at the end!), you will know that I had only sat down once to this point. I planned another sit down stop here at Mardale Head and I decided to stick to that plan. Due to the cool, pleasant weather I wasn’t nearly as drained as I have been every other time I have reached this CP before – including my infamous DNF, so I did consider another quick, straight-through stop. I decided to stick to the ‘sit-down’ plan for a couple of reasons: firstly, I love tomato soup at this point in the race! But, mostly, my plan was to go ‘straight-through’ both Kentmere and Ambleside (CPs 11 & 12) and not take my third ‘sit-down stop’ until Chapel Stile (CP 13) where the stew that I also like eating is on, (Heinz Big Soup, for those who want/need the details!). Last year, I spent 30 minutes at Mardale Head and Kentmere in total – 14 minutes at Mardale Head and 16 at Kentmere – the only real ‘delays’ in my run, due to trying to sort out some chafing that was causing a problem. I could afford to take a break here this year and still make significant inroads into that 30 minutes. An inadvertent bonus of this stop was what turned out to be one of my favourite little moments of the whole race.
I always admire the volunteers at this CP; Delamere Spartans I believe – a gazebo/marque type structure in a God-forbidden wind-tunnel in the middle of nowhere! To be fair, (spot the ‘weather-was-better-than-everyone-says-it-was’ theme continuing,) this was easily the best conditions I had ever experienced at Mardale Head; still bright but, by now, very breezy.
I handed in my water bottles, ordered soup and a cheese sandwich from the wonderful volunteer, and was directed into a little gazebo at the side where there were five or six chairs. Already seated was a girl called Jodie who, to be frank, was a funny green colour! We were soon joined by a young lad (not sure of the name?) and Matt Neale. A quick synopsis of everyone’s situations followed; Matt and I just plodding on, the lad seemed OK but said he was totally spent and had decided he was going to drop out. Jodie, it transpired, had been/was running in 3rd place female, (I believe unexpectedly, but I may be doing her a disservice here,) but had got so excited when she learned this that she had totally burned herself out with excitement and was now suffering as a result. She, however, had zero intention of dropping out and was just taking on food and fluids here until she felt well enough to resume.
A brief flashback to the race briefing is required at this point: one of Marc Laithwaite’s main points of inspiration was to challenge the competitors as a whole to beat the record 64% finish rate. As an addition to this, he told us about the record female entry level for 2023 (35% if memory serves) so, as an aside, that he would be monitoring male completion rate against female completion rate.
Back to the tent in Mardale – here is a lad who, on the face of it, doesn’t look too bad, telling Matt and I he is out. Here is Jodie, who was/is 3rd place, face the colour of a cheap alien costume, telling us there is no way she is quitting! Matt and I reminded them both of Marc’s challenge before the race, then told the lad to get his arse in gear and get up the course, while telling Jodie that we really felt she should drop-out – for the sake of the male/female completion ratios!
I wish I knew the lad’s name – I know Matt and I were ‘joined’ by a lad called Jonathan for the next 25 miles or so, I don’t know if it was him? I certainly know what happened to Josie though, so I will return to her later!
Anyway, I digress (again!), dipping cheese sandwiches into tomato soup went down a treat (I had double!) and, as I got up to leave the CP, there was still time for the second culinary treat of the day – after the corned beef hash pie at Braithwaite!
“Cheese and pineapple stick?!” asked one of the Spartans.
“No thinks, I’m not a pineapple person.”
“We’ve got cheese and pickled onion sticks, then?”
Now she had my attention! I think I ate about six of them and probably would have had another six, were I not so aware of time ticking on! It is a wonderful moment in an ultra when you find food that just perfectly hits the spot of what your taste buds require.
So, onwards up Gatesgarth I charged, fully re-fuelled after a ten minute break – next (proper) stop Chapel Stile!
I don’t know about other 100 runners, but I always get a really strong feeling of ‘I am on my way to the finish’ when I leave Mardale. Could it be to do with the fact that I dropped out there once? But, even in the original, race-debut year recces, Rob and I identified Mardale as the place where you really feel you have turned for home.
Poles out, I powered up Gatesgarth despite the strengthening wind trying to push us back into Mardale Head! (No rain though, so still easily the best conditions I have ever climbed Gatesgarth in!) Cresting the col there is immediately a very steep downhill section before the main descent begins, and it was here that the soreness of my feet was to really force some decision making. Anything downhill on rocky ground was pretty painful now, and I realised that I was entering the ‘manage the foot situation’ stage of the race. The poles, which had been getting stored away for descents, now stayed in my hands and actually proved quite useful in keeping some weight of my feet downhill. I tried to run some of the more level descending into Sadgill, but I soon realised that I could route-march with little or no foot pain or, when I ran, it was either quite painful or I knew I was increasing the damage to the soles of my feet. And so the pattern was set for the rest of the race – the poles never went away again and, within reason, I didn’t run any of the last 30 miles either. I had time in my pocket, I was now managing my feet to get me to Coniston.
I don’t know what it is about that little climb over from Sadgill to Kentmere that always feels so long! But I was at least mentally ready for it this time and was soon dropping down the other side. A pattern was also being established at this point that had begun at Pooley Bridge really – I would overtake Matt and Jonathan walking the up-hills, they would trot past me on the downhills. (We finished 60th, 61st and 62nd!)
The other point of note that happened as I left the farmyard and hit the tarmac road approaching Kentmere was the arrival of the Lakeland 50 leader. This was a great little mental boost for me – I was so far ahead of the 50s I had actually forgotten about even looking out for them coming! He was flying, but I managed to get over the infamous stone stiles and practically into Kentmere before any other 50ers appeared. There is a gate by a cottage as you enter Kentmere village and I heard the 2nd place guy coming, so I held the gate for him.
“There’s another guy coming!” he shouted as he passed. So I waited five seconds to hold the gate for the 3rd place guy too. No sooner had I let go of the gate and heard it slam shut, I heard the footsteps of the 4th place guy! I felt very guilty that I was too far away to hold it for him too – all the top four runners were absolutely flying! I felt even more guilty when I realised that I sort-of knew the guy in 4th! I had met Neil MacNicol in 2022 when he finished 2nd in the 100 and a friend introduced us. (And I would get to chat to him for longer after the presentation this year too.) My gate mistake didn’t stop Neil though, as he ran in 2nd place for most of the rest of the race and then spectacularly took the lead in the last mile to win the 50 this year!
And so, at not quite the same speed as the 50 leaders, I stepped into the Montane led Kentmere CP at 21hrs 40mins race time, 20 minutes ahead of my 2022 pace. It is interesting to note that, despite a shorter Mardale stop, I had ‘lost’ six minutes in this leg due to not being able to run much of the downhill.
As mentioned above, Kentmere CP is run by the Montane team – the race title-sponsors (so I’ll give them a mention!) and the CP is famous for two things: an absolutely bouncing disco atmosphere, and smoothies! I planned a quick stop here but thought I would try and throw some pasta down my neck, but it wasn’t really happening. I have always stayed away from the smoothies as I’ve always felt they would be a bit too sickly for ultra running, or might mess up my usually bullet-proof stomach, but something about this year made me give them a go. (The very persuasive volunteers, possibly!) I went for the mixed berry option (I think?!) and it was lovely, just the right blend of ‘food/drink’ for some energy – so I had two! I think they did the job as I certainly didn’t run out of energy but, without going into too much detail, I can’t help but think they at least contributed to some very ‘dangerous farting’ moments in the 15 miles?! (Too much information?!)
Out of the CP I stormed after a five minute stop – immediately gaining 11 minutes back on my 2022 Kentmere stop – and fully motivated to power on to Ambleside where my family, and possibly some friends, would provide another welcome boost.
(Weather Police Alert!) Weather-wise, conditions to this point in the race could only be described as ‘very good.’ It had been lovely and bright, warm when the sun was out, but nice and cool the rest of the time, throughout the race to date. I had only worn the rain jacket (on and off) on leg 7 from Blencathra to Dockray. However, the wind was definitely up now (as forecast) as I started to climb the Garburn Pass and I could see the next heavy batch of rain approaching before it hit – as in I could no longer see the top of the pass! The rain jacket came out again and the rest of the climb was into the driving rain and teeth of the wind.
Due to the above, it was a relief to top-out where, reasonably quickly, the rain shower passed. The wind was still there though and, by now, clothing is either wet from sweat or wet from rain so, for now at least, I decided to leave the jacket on. It stayed on for the rest of the the race.
I love this gentle descent which provides great views and predominantly easy running but I could not run it the way I wanted due to taking care not to destroy my feet. The sun was shining brightly again as I entered Troutbeck and crossed the bridge by a little car-park area where there always seems to be supporters to give you a cheer! There is always an extra spring in my step as I approach Skelghyll Woods at the thought of seeing Leanne and the girls in Ambleside and, this year, at the realisation that I was going to make it to Ambleside in pretty much exactly 24 hours!
There was one amusing moment in the woods. There are always a few walkers out at this time, or people just taking a stroll out of Ambleside itself. By now there was a steady stream of 50 runners also passing – maybe the top 20 or so, including Matt Rushbrook, who passed me climbing through Troutbeck. One couple stood aside for us and I recognised the face, a lady called Julie who also works in education in Wigan. We recognised each-other just long enough for her to ask “What are you all doing?”
“I’m 90 miles into the Lakeland 100!” I shouted over my shoulder.
Returning to civilization is always slightly surreal by this stage, and running through Ambleside at 6pm is a combination of holiday-makers with not a clue what you are doing right through to total strangers roaring you on from the pub beer-gardens! I got a shout from Jane and Dave from Wigan Harriers outside The White Lion here but, aside from them, I had beaten all the other Wigan Harriers coming to watch to in Ambleside that evening!
The crowd at the road crossing by the chippy is always a lovely moment too – the closest you get to the Coniston race start atmosphere, and being chased down the road by Leanne and the girls is always good fun too!
Ambleside reached in 23hrs 58mins – I was absolutely thrilled to get there within 24 hours; something that would have seemed impossible to me a couple of years ago. I had gained 7 minutes on 2022 on leg 12 but it is worth noting; really I had lost 4 minutes as I gained 11 minutes just by leaving Kentmere CP quicker. (ie In the last two legs, I had been 15 minutes faster in the CPs, but had only gained 1 minute of race time!)
Part Six; legs 13 – 15, Ambleside to Coniston, 89.4 to 105 miles – Finish in style.
Even if you feel OK at this point – and I did – tiredness is sneaking up on you. I never started to fall asleep this year, which is always a bonus for me but, unusually, a few of the ultra-running hallucinations which are normally reserved for the headtorch hours, had been sneaking in. As far back as the approach to Dalemain, I had been amazed to see what looked like a gopher or an otter in the road (it was horse poo), in Skelghyll Woods I had been alarmed to see the legs of a fireman – very specifically a fireman – sticking out from under a bush (it was tree roots), and later on I saw the regulation naked man laying by Elter Water. (I seem to see this every year, so maybe this actually is a naked man.)
So it shouldn’t be a surprise that my tired brain was malfunctioning at Ambleside CP. I was chatting to Leanne while I got my water bottles filled, determined to be quickly in-and-out of there, when I remembered that the sister of a friend of mine at work, Chloe, had told me she was helping out at Ambleside this year. So I turned to the kind volunteer (Rainbow, Pride themed) filling my bottles and asked “Is Chloe’s sister here?!” This was met with obviously bemused responses. Clearly there was no chance of me remembering Chloe’s sister’s actual name and, to be honest, I only had a vague recollection of what she actually looks like! It was quite a relief to me (and probably to the volunteer) that Chloe’s sister then did appear right on queue! Thank goodness for that, I’m not quite losing it yet!
Leaving Ambleside CP with pride! (Geddit?!)
And so, after just a shade over 24 hours racing, I was on the homeward stretch through Langdale, Tilberthwaite and Coniston, safe in the knowledge that I should at least hold my 20-odd minute advantage from 2022. (Flashback: in 2022 I had walked in from here, faffed with my watch as the battery began to run out approaching Chapel Stile, faffed with my headtorch when I couldn’t turn it on at Chapel Stile CP, got frustrated when the watch ran out at Blea Moss, then stumbled through the clag above Tilberthwaite with a headtorch that couldn’t really do the job.)
You must be sick of hearing about the poles by now but I can honestly tell you that I was still climbing just as strongly now as I was at the start of the race. My legs were no problem whatsoever. I climbed out of Ambleside in seemingly no time, but the descent to the Skelwith Bridge Hotel would have been very painful on the soles of my feet without the assistance of the poles – I was so pleased to have them. I got another “Are you GB Sticks?!” on the way down here from Runny McRunFace (@Gazitude on Twitter) who was powering away to a very good 50 finish with a friend.
Leanne and the girls were waiting for me at the hotel too – one last little cheer-on before the finish-line. They had Mike’s eldest daughter, Esme, with them too. I had asked Esme how Mike was getting on at Ambleside and she said she thought he was at Mardale Head. This did make me worry a bit as it was the same time as last year for him but, it turned out, he was quite a way past that and travelling increasingly well.
Stick-powered Sticks approaching Skelwith Bridge.
The approach to Chapel Stile is the first bit of proper ‘flat’ ground in quite some time, but I was in route-march mode by now. I was counting down the ups remaining (three to go – Side Pike zig-zags, over to Tilberthwaite, Jacob’s Ladder) and, therefore, there were only three painful downhills left too (the Blea Moss section would hurt the feet – very rocky, the last descent is tough too but you can smell the finish line by then!) so I felt pretty comfortable striding on my way. As I rounded Elterwater I had the happy surprise of Jodie (last seen at Mardale Head) trotting up behind me. She looked much better than last time I saw her and was moving very smoothly. She wasn’t sure if she was still in 3rd anymore but was heading for a good finish. I told her that if she made the podium I would join her on it at the presentation due to the inspirational pep-talk I had given her! I am delighted to say that she did make the podium! (I most certainly did NOT join her on it at the presentation!) What a great performance from her and a stark reminder to all that you can feel very bad at certain points in an ultra race and still recover to run well. Congratulations Jodie, a pleasure to share a little bit of the trail with you!
I was quickly through Elterwater village to claps and cheers from punters outside The Britannia Inn and Wainwright’s Inn and soon heading towards the mirage that is Chapel Stile CP (although it doesn’t quite have the same magical appearance in the light as it does in the dark). 25hrs 37mins and the 30 minute buffer restored.
Planned sit-down break number three was taken here, allowing me to eat stew, get my headtorch out of my bag and put in the spare battery (and relief to find that I could successfully turn it on!) and grab a nice brew. It was a lovely surprise here to be ‘served’ by a friendly face, Kim, who I had met when I wore my 2022 finishers t-shirt on a school residential trip earlier in the year. Every volunteer is appreciated in such a race, but it is amazing what a lift every familiar face you see gives you.
A strict ten minutes later I was out of the door, giving the cow bell by the exit a celebratory clonk as I went – I had no intention of stopping at the final CP at all so I knew that, the next time I stopped moving, it would be on the finish line.
By now, the pattern of walking past Matt and Jonathan uphill before they ran past me downhill was firmly established. Having negotiated those two brutally high ladder-style stiles, (who on earth put them there?!), I passed them again as we approached the Side Pike switch-backs above the National Trust campsite in Langdale.
“I wish I could walk as fast as you!” Jonathan said as I strode past.
“Yeah, and I wish I could run as fast as you!” I replied!
I managed a bit of a run on the lovely path through the woods at Blea Tarn and picked my way gingerly through the rocks and bracken on Blea Moss to the un-manned GPS detection point at the gate on the road on the Wrynose Pass. I couldn’t see any sign of the famous old guy who used to help us dib in there, but there was someone in a Lakeland Trails labelled car and some flags to guide us to the appropriate point – I’m assuming not the same guy?
Matt, Jonathan and I were all together again at this point; we never did much chatting, just the awareness (on my part at least) that we were all knocking-off the miles together. After hobbling my way down the steep road, I passed them again as we began to climb up-and-over to Tilberthwaite, and that was the last time I saw them. I don’t know if they were tiring at all, but I know that, at that point, crazy-happy finish-line-fever was certainly kicking in on my part! In my two previous (and now three) finishes to date, I can definitely tell you that one of the absolute highlights of the race, for me, is when the Tilberthwaite CP appears into view across the fields.
What was new for me this year was that the CP wasn’t lit up yet! Light was only just starting to fade so there had been no need to consider the headtorch yet. In the night this is a spectacular sight – the CP itself looks like a space-station in the valley and the line of head-torches appear to climb into the heavens above it. It wasn’t quite such a spectacular vision in the twilight, but any disappointment was more than compensated for by thinking about what a massive mental and physical bonus it is to knock-off this race without the need to do a second night!
I put the headtorch on my head as I approached the CP, just so that I didn’t need to mess with it on the final leg – I had no intention of repeating last year. I got the the CP after 27hrs 48mins, with 29 minutes in the bag on 2022 and, therefore, knew that I was going to PB the course and run something like 29hrs 15 minutes. Bloody hell, I was happy!
I chucked my tenner in the pot (lighter than a quid!) and set off up those steps like I was on a chair lift! My legs felt great, my feet were happier going up than anything else as they were under less pressure, and the poles were just a God-send. I turned my headtorch on too, just to make sure I didn’t make any silly mistakes now, slipping on rocks or in puddles.
Rounding the corner above the quarry brings the last bit of climbing into view. Now that headtorches were on, it always seems to create the optical illusion that the top is absolutely miles away! It isn’t, so I find it’s best here to just put your head down, yomp it out and not look up! This wasn’t difficult this year as, by now, the wind was absolutely howling through the col above and into our faces. I could only imagine what it might be like later, as the forecast was certainly for the wind to only increase in the night. I can’t remember if it was raining or not, there were one or two showers after Ambleside but, as I already had my rain-jacket on, I can’t say I was really taking any notice.
In the dark up here, what you are listening for is the stream away to your right – the closer the rushing water sounds, the closer you are to the top. The problem this year was you couldn’t hear the water for the wind! Still, I was up there quicker than I thought I should be (the time for the leg would indicate that I did climb a lot quicker than usual!) and was soon staring into the valley below – the last climb of Lakeland in the bag!
The joyous feeling you might have here is always tempered by the technical nature of the descent; this is ankle breaking heaven, so I, for one, always take a little more care here. As I made my way down, I thought of Mark Gadie, a friend who caught me right here last year and guided me down as I floundered. He has been injured and, therefore, unable to participate this year – my umpteenth ‘live-for-the-now’ moment. As I thought of Mark, a voice behind me said “Headtorch alright this year?!” It was the lad who had lent me his spare headtorch last year! What were the chances of that? Meeting in exactly the same place?!
As if to round off the eerie ‘Did that really happen?’ feel, a lad ran past me who could not have looked any more like Rob Lister if he had tried! Same purple t-shirt, same adidas shorts, visor with headtorch attached. Little. Fast. Absolutely uncanny. I’ve no idea if it was a real person or Rob’s spirit guiding me in, but it allowed me to think again of my good pal and my sincere hope that, one day, he is back on this final descent into Coniston.
The path finally eases towards the bottom where a little s-bend guides you down onto the Miners Road proper. Now you can finally relax – something pretty catastrophic would have to happen to stop you finishing now! I glanced at my watch which, at this point, was just displaying the time of day. I wasn’t sure if my eyes were deceiving me, but I was sure it said 22:50?! That meant 28hrs 50mins of race time – could I get to Coniston in under ten minutes?!
Immediately, gone were thoughts of tiredness or sore feet (told you it’s all in the head), I was off like a bat-out-of-hell down that road! I belted past the Miners Bridge where we started all those hours ago and, to be fair, once I hit the steeper bit of road just below that, my feet were screaming at me to stop running! I looked at my watch again and it said 22:56 – so I guess I had misread it somehow a minute or two earlier. Whatever had happened, I knew I wasn’t getting to the finish line in three minutes, so I relaxed and allowed myself to bask in a moment of quiet satisfaction and enjoy the trot into Coniston village, safe in the knowledge that I had taken a sizeable chunk out of the 2022 time that I considered impossible to beat.
There was still time for one last little bonus moment to come, though. Getting back into Coniston at 11pm meant that the beer gardens in front of The Black Bull and The Yewdale Inn were packed! I was welcomed into the village like I had just won the race! This was a complete surprise and such a lovely moment. It sums up the event really; those people must have clapped countless runners through by that stage and should have just been focused on their last few mouthfuls of beer before closing time. Thank you to anyone who was there!
All that remained was to be directed back onto Lake Road by the excellent marshals and to run into the finish line. Leanne and the girls were right there, as always, and it was fantastic to see them on the finish line to celebrate what is always, for me, a team effort.
29 hours and 2 minutes exactly on the official timing, a 40 minutes course PB. 60th place of 380 finishers and over 650 starters – an impossible thought when I first entered this race in September 2017.
Post Race.
The welcome you get into the event marque is always brilliant moment, then there were photos, buckles, a chance to say thanks to Marc himself, plus finally getting to sit down and properly talk to Leanne, the girls and various friends who were around at the time; part of the Harris family, Stu and Kellyanne, Rachel, Darren and Andrew amongst others. It all becomes a bit of a tired blur in the end! Jon Cadman finished the 50 not long after with another really good time under his belt, albeit suitably impressed, in his ever-generous way, that he couldn’t catch me! Unfortunately, Matthew Lavery hadn’t made it and had dropped out at Julie’s Howtown CP.
Most of the focus, though, was on Mike’s dot! I think, as I finished, he was in the Chapel Stile area, I can’t quite remember. What I do know is, by the time my girls had had enough and were falling asleep on the floor around us, he was in the GPS ‘black-hole’ after Blea Moss. Katherine was determined not to miss him coming in so, on our way to the car, I said he should be about 90 minutes from there, maybe 75 minutes from Tilberthwaite. The poles came in especially handy for one last time – I’m not sure how I would have got out of that chair and into the car without them!
Back at the cottage I was very grateful for there being a downstairs shower! That feat achieved (you have NO IDEA how difficult it is!), I managed a quick brew before negotiating the many stairs to bed!
Just time for a quick look at the tracker before unconsciousness and there, like magic, descending it’s way into Coniston, was dot 278! Coach Harris was going to make it! That alone was enough to send me off to sleep happily. Quite a day or two – or three.
Sunday.
When you are in the race, it is quite hard to get a sense of scale. You are just there, in it, doing it. It’s for everyone else to go about their daily lives and then, hours later, check up on a dot on a map and think ‘Bloody hell, they’re still going!’ So it only really sinks in for us competitors when, like me, I finish, have some food and drink, get a lift home, have a shower, watch a friend’s dot finish, go to bed and sleep, wake-up with a coffee from the ever-supportive, wonderful wife, flick the phone on, glance at the tracker and think ‘Oh my God, some of my friends are STILL running!’
And so it was that, on Sunday with my brew and breakfast, I was keeping an eye on the dots of Carolyn Binns and Angela Green as they disappeared into the same GPS black-hole at Blea Moss as Mike did the night before, and waited for them to re-emerge above Tilberthwaite. What an achievement for them both to finish – congratulations to you both, you legends!
Leanne, Lottie and I went back over to Coniston for the presentation, and also to congratulate Mike. Anyone who has ever attended the presentation will appreciate what an epic event it is in its own right! Now that I have three finishes under my belt I have found that I get asked an awful lot about the ‘500 slate’ and, I must admit, watching the presentation certainly makes that thought more tempting! Funnily enough, looking back at 2018, I never really regretted the DNF decision, it was just part of the learning curve but, perhaps now, I look back and think ‘Damn, I could be on FOUR finishes!’ – maybe I regret it more now than I did then!
There was chance to catch-up with loads of other people too, and I am embarrassed at those I will forget to mention here! But there were Ian and Laura Yates – Laura just celebrated her 40th birthday by completing the 50 and, by pure coincidence, her and Mike teamed up to pretty much complete the last 29 miles together! Paul Fisher who, in most years I have run, has been my loudest cheerleader (heard from miles around in Ambleside and Coniston!) not only finished the 50, but loved it!
Also by coincidence, Mike’s van was virtually next to the Kilpatrick family van, so Lottie was re-united with last year’s campsite play-mate, Aria. They are like two peas in a pod and, despite not seeing each other for a year, were playing within seconds! This was very useful, as it gave me chance to properly talk to Mariam and Jonny, two very good runners, and pick their brains a bit. Especially as they are both coached by LL50 winner, Neil MacNicol, who was also around. Congrats again to Neil on his epic, last-mile victory and especially to Jonny who has trained ferociously to break 24 hours at LL100 and succeeded in fine style – 12th place in 23hrs 32mins; one place (and 32 minutes) behind Sabrina Vergee! Jonny has also knocked off a Bob Graham Round this year, so it was great to pick his and Neil’s brains on comparisons between the two – not that I’m thinking about it…!
There’s always got to be some feet photos, right?! Body largely unscathed, aside from paper-mached soles of feet and toe 2 on each foot (which are used to kick stones out of the way for 105 miles!) Then, by way of beauty to make up for the feet shots, Aria and Lottie, plus the Harris and Morgan-Hillam contingents make themselves comfy at the presentation.
Epilogue.
As usual, we have been on holiday camping in Cornwall in-between the race and actually writing it up. We had an absolutely lovely, relaxing time including, as the pictures below show, taking some Endurance Store, Montane & Lakeland 100 merch on tour, and Leanne and I sneaking off from the kids on the beach to enjoy a well earned drink!
The holiday also gives me a bit of time to reflect on what I’ve learned or taken from the experience.
Well first, let’s start with some facts; here are my splits from my four Lakeland 100s to date, which hopefully add some context to the time differences of the four races:
The main take-away from the last two years though, is how CP management is the key to success. I genuinely don’t think I am running (moving!) faster in any of the four years really, it is more about spending as little time in CPs as you can afford. Sometimes you are knackered and you need to rest and re-fuel, that’s fine, I’m talking about wasted time.
As you can see above, I reduced my CP time from 89 minutes in 2022 to 71 minutes this year. Aside from Dalemain, I’m not sure I could take any more time off, without then risking not re-fuelling properly, but it is always good to focus on, because 71 minutes is still a long time in a race! I could say more, but that is for another time (blog?!) so I’ll leave it there for now. But hopefully, someone reading might find the above information useful (I took the idea from the late John Kynaston) and maybe hit that sub-30 they have been aiming for.
And what of my race as a whole?
Well, 2022 was not a fluke, as I’ve just proved. Maybe it’s time I had a bit more confidence in my ability and not be so afraid to set those challenging splits and times. After all, in the race I took no notice of the ‘realistic’ splits I set, I was working off the 2022 splits from the start. So perhaps it is time to lose the ‘Imposter Syndrome’ mentality I always feel at Lakeland.
Not only have I beaten last year’s unbeatable time, but this year I know I have left some time out on the course. If I could just trot some of the descents in the last 30 miles then that is probably a good 30 minutes to take off the total time for a start. And if I ever – ever – got to run this race with dry conditions underfoot (as if!) then that would inevitably mean faster progress.
However, and this always has to be kept in mind, there is so much that can go wrong in this race, both in the build-up and during the race itself, that you have always just got to be thankful for every finish. Next year it is just as likely that I will have a really difficult race and finish hours slower, or DNF again, or get injured in the build-up and not even make the start-line. Or something worse.
Will I enter the ballot in September for next year? Hell, yes! If you are reading this because you have done 50 or 100 before, I hope you will throw your name in the hat too. Or, if you’ve never done Lakeland 50 or 100 before, I hope this might have inspired you to try something you might think is impossible.
As Marc so succinctly put it in the race briefing – you never know what life has in store for you. I’ll never know if this was the last chance I will ever get to do this race, only fate and time will tell. Marc told me not to take it for granted. I didn’t.
Whatever your reason for reading, thank you for doing so. And if, by some chance, I happen to see you in Coniston next July, then let’s all agree now, to meet outside at 6pm and – if we’ve nothing better to do – we WILL run 100 miles.
(Or 105…)
Thanks for reading.
GB Sticks.
gbsticks11 
Excellent article as always. How did you find using the poles? 😉😆 GBDougie
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