Chevin Shenanigans

Went to Otley last night to take part in the inaugural Chevin Chiller, an off-road, hallowe'en fun run that ended up being taken rather seriously by a good proportion of the local fell runners .  It was all a bit of a drama getting there, Helen was working late so I picked her up on the dot of 7.00pm and we bombed over there, mate Carol had collected our numbers for us already and we had time for a bit of headtorch/shoe adjustment, pee in the undergrowth etc before the start of the race. I charged off way too fast, for some reason I'd got it in my head that the course was less hilly than it was and I struggled accordingly. Actually no, that's not right - I recovered and paced the later part of the race better, but towards the end I knew the damage had already been done and 4 or 5 runners annoyingly passed me on the climb to the finish. Still good fun though, my watch said 36.41 and I don't think that's too bad for an off-road event event on top of a big chuffing hill on a dark and dampish night.  Must do a few more fast training reps though, my leg turnover is as slow as hell nowadays. There were quite a few decent off-roaders present there and I am curious to know the winning time, am sure it will be way under 30 minutes .... also interesting was the way the field seperated, fell-runners are by the nature of the sport inclined to run in the dark and there was a significant gap between these erstwhile folks and the runners who had come along for the fun of it and perhaps weren't as used to running by headtorch or throwing themselves down slippy descents in pitch darkness.  Good result for Carol (2nd lady I think), don't know where I finished - will be disappointed if it's not in the top half of the field though.

It was late by the time I finally got to bed and of course it's a swim day today ... up at 0530 to go and crash out some distance, actually I had a surprisingly nice swim. Emma wasn't there today, so I did my own thing in a nearly deserted pool .... ended up doing about 54 lengths, in a 30m pool that's just over 1600m, so far enough. It was actually good to have the leisure to focus on some technique, I have several flaws in my stroke that I'm struggling to iron out, however it did occur to me this morning that I'm much better in the water when I really focus on my breathing. I try and swim all my reps bilaterally nowadays (breathing both sides - not as easy as you'd think) and am convinced that I don't exhale properly, what I mean by this is that 1) I don't make best use of the oxygen I've drawn into my body and b) I'm not getting enough CO2 out in order to get a decent lungful in its place. Really did work on this during the session and was surprised by how much stronger I felt per interval rep (120m). A few more sessions like that would do me the world of good.

 

Helen out tonight with the girls, so I am an independed soul for a few hours:

Thoughts for the day:

- Spear the fish and put it in your pocket

- Pull, bite, suck

 

Something to consider eh?

Robbed With a Smile

Had to take my car in for its second service yesterday, I knew that would mean expensive and braced accordingly.

I have to say, the team at Harrogate Audi are robbing b*****s of the very highest order but by golly they do it in a nice way. I bumped up there at 0800 and was met in the Service Reception by a whole flock of heavily made-up and mini-skirted girlies, all [apparently] desperate to make me a cuppa and escort my weary legs to a comfy seat. A brisk, professional exchange of keys took place - lots of lipstick and teeth going on here - and very shortly my appointed bimbette whisked me outside to my courtesy car, her high heels beating an impressive stacatto on the showroom flow. And what a nice car it was - a brand new Audi A6, less than 600 on the clock and enough buttons inside to baffle a fighter pilot. Naturally, I stood no chance and nearly caused a major pile-up in Knaresborough town centre due to my inability to operate the push-button handbrake.

Returning at 5.30pm, the smiles and lipstick had faded a tad, and I daresay the poor lasses were entertaining thoughts of comfy bunny-rabbit slippers, but it was still slick as you like and I had a couple of posh oatmeal cookies to accompany my gourment cuppa. My account was recited to me with a beaming smile and having parted with the best part of 300 quid, I was invited to rate my service. Naturally, I was "exceptionally satisfied". Anything less, I felt, would have been greeted with consternation and goings-on, but not resulted in a reduction in my bill and in reality kept everyone from their slippers.

Reading the service schedule, I've just parted with all that brass for what was effectively an oil change and a good look round the car - no remedial work was required. Of course, what I DID get was the service stamp in the logbook and maintained the integrity of the warranty, Audi know this and that's why they get away with it.

A licence to print money? I should say.

Old Enemy

So, last night I headed up to the gym to renew my acquaintance with the Jacob's Ladder machine, aka hill-climber or stepper. I used this device extensively during my BGR training last year and hate the thing with a passion, however it's effectiveness is indisputable and it helped me build the leg strength required to even stand a chance at a successful round. Anyhow, my usual session on this is 30 minutes broken down into 3 x 10m segments, at the end of every segment I coast down to the ground and towel off, quick drink and stretch, then back on - so maybe 20 seconds of recovery. When I first started I maintained around 80 feet of climb per minute, however as time went on and I matched it to aerobic heart rates I upped that to 90 feet per min and that was my target yesterday, the goal being to climb 2,700ft minimum. All went well to start off with, heart rate was nicely below my threshold and I felt like I was moving well, however by the third segment I was starting to feel it and was struggling to keep the 90ft cadence going while maintaining a sub-143 HR (or 75% WHR). It crept up inexorably and so I decided to just to hold the cadence and see how I finished .... it was ugly. Sweat was dripping off my face in torrents and my legs were crying for mercy, I just held on to the end before collapsing in a snotty heap on the floor. Final figure was 2,835ft in 30m, but I allowed my HR to get up to lactate threshold in the final segment and that won't do at all. I intend to work at this and get some leg strength back, I could do with rebuilding my "guns" a bit anyhow! It's all a far cry from last year when I clobbered the gym record with 3,000ft in 29.17m, that's an average cadence of 102ft/m. I won't be troubling that again methinks.

Good swim session this morning. My swim partner Emma has been selfishly absent for the past few weeks (away on courses and recovering from a couple of 50-mile ultras. Pffft), so it was nice to have some focus today. A good hour in the water and some very telling drills, I think I've identified some significant weaknesses in my stroke and we'll be working on that. A few more like that and I'll be well happy.

Surprise PB

Helen and I headed up to the Lakes early on Saturday morning, it was going to be a big day: Not only was it the Langdale Horseshoe fell race (one of our favourites) but it was also the bi-annual BGR dinner and I daresay wild horses wouldn't have stopped me going.

Anyhow, despite fairly poor weather in Yorkshire, things brightened up a great deal as we got closer to the west coast and it was clear that conditions were going to be pretty good. As we drove up Langdale, I could see just a little bit of cloud hanging over Crinkle Crags and although the summit of Bowfell was pretty much obscured, I knew I could navigate up and over it without too much of a problem. Well, we had a cracking race: It was the usual mad dash from the start as things start to bottleneck when you begin the long slog up to Stickle Tarn and everyone wants to get as far up the field as they can, but I honestly enjoyed every minute, it was one of those moments where I knew exactly where I was going and what I had to do, things unfolded much as I wanted. Yes, the traverse under Esk Pike was as horrible as it always is and I made a couple of minor navigational faux paus, but nothing worth writing home about.

My goal - based on a previous PB of around 3.37 - was to finish under 3.30, but as I reached the CP on the summit of Pike O'Blisco I realised that I was comfortably under three hours and that I was going to destroy that time. I belted across the summit plateau like a fool and soon picked up the runner's trod for the descent to Langdale. A mate from Horsforth Fell and Dale was on my heels all the way down and I believe we pushed each other to an entirely unexpected PB of 3.14.44, that's 23 minutes up on last year!

I'm over the moon with this. I don't expect PBs nowadays and run on the fells for the joy of it, not to chase rainbows .... however this result tells me I'm doing something right and all the work I've done this year on my descending technique must have paid off to some degree. Bobs wasn't too far behind me, she lopped 17 minutes off her PB for this race too so all in all we did pretty good. It's a curious thing though, you'd have expected me to do my best at this race off the back of all that BG training I did last year, but apparently not!

A quick cheer for the winners at the awards presentation (along with a few of the famous Langdale Horseshoe pasties) and we off to Shap for the BGR dinner, lots of mud to scrub off. Well, I did anyhow; I believe several people mistook a good layer of Langdale grime for Helen having a nice suntan from our recent holiday. 

I'm going to be writing a close-out BGR blog shortly, so details of the dinner will have to wait I'm afraid. Suffice it to say that it was a proper good 'un.

Getting Stuck Up Brenda .....

Today finds me in Playa Blanca, Lanzarote and coming to the end of a two-week sojourn out here. It came just in time, Helen and I were completely frazzled by Life and everything that goes with it, so we made a very deliberate decision to chill and not feel obliged to do anything. In this, I think we've been pretty successful - I can't recall a holiday when I lazed around quite so much, the weather has been fantastic and we have taken full advantage of it. We're in the same villa as last year, a cracking place with a superb outlook over Playa Blanca and Montana de La Brena Chica ("Brenda") and of course I have had to renew my acquaintance with its rocky slopes, just as I have with the extinct volcano just down the road. It's been ace, I've ran, swam, read Mike Cudahy's "Wild Trails To Far Horizons" and drank a lot of beer and rioja.

Am mildly surprised it's been such a while since I last blogged - such a lot has happened over the past few months ..... our friend Emma didn't get round her BGR, a few things went wrong and while we're not 100% sure of the reason as to why she ran out of steam, the good news is that she will be going back and I'm confident that she will nail it. We've taken a bunch of clubmates out on BGR leg 2 for a bit of a Lakeland Fells experience, We've also ran the Yorkshireman Off-Road marathon, coming a creditable 4th mixed pair and just before flying out here supported our friend Stolly on leg 1 of on his successful BGR, so all in all we've had some quality time out in the hills.

On a completely different tack, my brother (who lives in Australia) decided to come and visit, taking us all by surprise.  He had originally come to Finland to visit his son/my nephew, so I suppose it was as convenient as it ever would be to hop over to England. I knew it was going to be stressful, despite my best efforts he and I don't really see eye to eye and as my mum wanted to come along and visit us in Harrogate - bringing him with her of course - I had to be on my best behaviour. It was very hard work indeed, he is clearly uncomfortable when not on home turf and sadly couldn't bring himself to indulge an old lady - that's my mum - and bury the hatchet for the day.  He blames me for a lot - some of it is justified I guess - amongst other things I joined the navy when he was just 14 and he therefore had to go through all the crap associated with my parents' divorce by himself ..... we haven't had much contact since he emigrated, much to my regret. I hope that one day we can be friends, because I believe that blood IS thicker than water, but right now it doesn't look like time has been much of a healer.

See what I mean by a lot going on? That's why we were frazzled and I don't mean by the sun. Slightly compounding this, we had to pack both boys off to University and that made long journeys with a car full of gear to opposite ends of the country. I tell, you it's not easy.  Helen will be pleased to have her house back though and I suspect that next week we'll be detoxing the place. They're a pair of proper grubs and I'm expecting the worse, particularly in brat #1's bedroom.

So my holiday has come to an end. It hasn't all been lazing around the pool though, as usual the most interesting part of any holiday is people-watching and we both do it, albeit looking for different traits. We Brits are crap out of are own country aren't we? I have been deeply distressed by the sight, sound and behaviour of a lot of my countrymen (and women) over the past two weeks and really, it's no surprise that we've got such a bad reputation. We're so easy to spot .... young blokes with grotesque beer bellies and a rolled-up copy of "The Sun", girls hobbling along with plasters on their feet because the holiday sandals were more show than go, overweight, middle-aged men with unintelligible (if you're not English) northern accents, belligerantly and loudly pontificating about how fuckin' shite the beer is, acres and acres of burnt, wobbly flesh, mostly adorned with faded and stretched tattoos .... I could go on.  It does strike me that perhaps it's just me that finds the behaviour of Brits abroad distasteful, so it's a good thing I could hide in our villa and only venture out when the need for food and/or exercise demanded it.

Helen is probably right, I really AM a grumpy old bastard.

A Day In The Lakes Triathlon

I did this triathlon a couple of weekends ago, my first at half-ironman distance. I suppose you'd expect me to come out with all sorts of superlatives when trying to describe such an event in the heart of the Lake District, however I think I'll have to sum it up thus: fooking tough.  I did quite a bit of training in prep, certainly I don't think I could have done much more without affecting other facets of life and on the day I suppose it served me well, but this wasn't quite the shining performance I'd hoped for. Silly really, if I wanted to do a good time I'd have chosen a race with a more benign course, however you can't blame me for wishing!
Swim - Helen told me that everyone left the water looking ashen-faced and I can believe it. In training the week before I swam jetty-to-jetty in Ripon lake (1.1 miles, half-IM distance is 1.2) in 31 minutes, so thought 36 minutes would be reasonable on the day. Wrong. There was a hell of a Southerly wind and we went straight into it on the outbound leg, it made for a lot of chop and was literally like swimming uphill. I got out of the water after around 42 minutes and was easily in the top third of my wave.  There followed a long run up to timing point where transition began, overall about 44 minutes - a bit disappointing really.

T1 - Severe faffage. Put on cycle top, armwarmers and socks. Messed up badly with the socks, having two with "R" on them. Momentary confusion until I realised that they weren't paired (I'll get her for this later), this came back to haunt me on the run with a poor-fitting sock. Anyhow, just over 4 minutes. Fairly crap, really.

Bike - Went off feeling strong and tried to keep a steady pace until Kirkstone. That same Southerly wind was straight in our faces and made for an interesting climb, lots of expletives and rude words employed. Fast descent. Things went OK, climbed Shap Fell reasonably well, a hell of a fast descent from there and I surprised myself by being flat over the handlebars with the speedo indicating 45 - 48mph, this is quick for me. New Mavic wheels make a difference.

 I faded in the last 5 miles, should have had a gel or something to push me along, I have no idea why I didn't do this! Into transition in 3.48.

T2 - much better. On with trail shoes (yes, and two right-footed socks), off with armwarmers, grab bumbag and away. About 2 minutes.  Am not sure that a cycling top is a good idea for running, but there you go - live and learn.

Run - Felt dreadful to start with, the climb out of Pooley Bridge was agony. I know this piece of the Lakes well, having ran it on L50 recces and also on the Tour de Helvellyn, but it made no difference. Legs took at least 5 miles to wake up, I wasn't being passed but also wasn't making any ground up. Finally got going towards the top of the climb up Wether Hill and bombed down the fell into Martindale, overtaking loads.

You could easily spot the non-fellrunners, there was lots of fannying around going on on the descents. The last three miles were on road and it was pretty painful, I did what I could and caught my last target (guy with Soreen cycling top) and sprinted the last few hundred yards. I knew it would be close ..... my target was sub-seven hours ....... final time 7.01.25.   I was annoyed at the time, but it's all part of the experience I guess.

I've got a better idea of what it takes to do one of these races now and despite some disappointment with the final time, I really did enjoy it. After a quick cuppa we headed back to our rather nice B&B in Pooley Bridge, then it was over to the neighbouring pub for some celebratory beer.  I feel I will be back to give "A Day In The Lakes" another go, I can do better.

Murky Depths

So, I went to Ripon Lake last night for my last training session prior to my dubious participation in the Day In The Lakes Triathlon (a half-ironman) this forthcoming Sunday. Swimming isn't my weakest discipline (cycling is) but paradoxically it's the one I've put most work into this year. I was determined to become a better swimmer, so since January/February I have been doing three solid sessions a week and taught myself to breathe bilaterally i.e. on both sides - harder than you might think - dramatically improving my front crawl stroke into the process.

However, for one reason or another, predominantly weather I suppose, I've been slow to get into Open Water and in fact only ventured back to Ripon Lake a couple of weeks ago, however since then I've been about 6 - 7 times and I'm glad, because to be honest OWS is a completely different matter to swimming in a pool. It's hard to swim bilaterally in the lake, your sighting goes all to pot and now I understand why so many elites breathe unilaterally, also you can get a lot more air in that way and believe me, you need it. Soooo, last night was a try-out for the big day .... Ripon lake is in the middle of the racecourse and the NYP Triathlon club (NYP = North Yorkshire Police) have the rights there. Starting from the landing jetty and swimming around both islands, it's about 1.1 miles so, given that my swim target is 35 - 36 minutes I thought it would be good if I could get back in around 32 minutes. As it turned out, I had a belting swim, my sighting was much better than in recent swims, and I got back in a touch over 31 minutes. If I can swim like this or better on the day, I will be very happy.

I have to be philosophical about it though. Ullswater will be much, much colder than Ripon Lake and there will be a lot more bodies splashing around and trying to punch/kick and swim over you. Realistically, if I do it anywhere under 38 I suppose I should be grateful. Also, there are diminishing returns here .... I will really have to up my stroke rate to get in a fast time and this is a LONG race. I should really save my best shot for the bike, that's where the real time savings are.

On the subject of bike, I have fitted my new wheels (Mavic Ksyrium Elite) and the difference they make is astounding. I went out for my last long ride over the weekend, getting totally soaked into the process. The bike seems to leap forward much more eagerly, I suppose they ARE considerably lighter. I've still got to face up to Helen's wrath when she sees the credit card bill, but hey-ho. I've weathered that storm before. I may buy flowers and chocolate in advance.

The run route is pretty familiar, as it forms part of the both the Tour de Helvellyn and Lakeland 50/100. Basically, you start in Pooley Bridge and head out to the Eastern shore of Ullswater then follow the trail down to Howtown and Fusedale. It does part of the climb up Wether Hill before turning around, through Martindale and then back along the road to the finish. By fell-running standards, this is pretty benign. Of course, I will be knackered by the time I come to it so am not expecting any miracles. My last off-road race of any consequence was the Wharfedale Half and I had a terrific run, so hope springs eternal.

I can still smell neoprene on my skin. I obviously didn't spend enough time in the shower. Perhaps I should have used soap.

From Grassington to Chamonix

It's been rather a relaxing weekend by recent standards and a good thing too - I endured last week in a kind of sonambulistic haze (look it up) and only started coming to life around Friday lunchtime. This was entirely due to my participation in the previous weekend's Fellsman. This is a 61-mile slog across most of the high ground in Yorkshire and designed to make grown men cry. Full marks to the designers then, but to merely call this event a Fell Race or an Ultra is not really telling the story.
So yes, the weekend: Friday night I took Helen to a rather posh Chinese restaurant in town (Harrogate). The surroundings are not exactly oriental, in fact they're nothing like it if I'm honest, the establishment is housed in part of the old Royal Baths building, presumably that's why it's so bloody expensive. The fabric of the building was extensively restored at some cost a few years back and since the chogie restaurant took up residence, people have spoken with bated breath about the fine grub on offer. Totally overrated if you ask me, way too expensive for what you got and I won't be going back. Here, have a look: http://www.royalbathschineserestaurant.com/
 
Anyhow. The rest of the weekend was consumed by loads of sadly-neglected DIY tasks that have built up into a fairly formidable list and an easy run Saturday (which wasn't easy), a nice bike ride on Sunday and a very good pool session on Monday evening. I think I'm just about bouncing back from the Fellsman now, I don't suppose it's any surprise that I've been knackered - just thinking about it makes me tired.  The race itself started at 0900 on Saturday 27th and you have until around 1600 the following day (ie. about 33 hours) to complete it, though most will be aiming for under 24 hours at the very least. Just over 400 of us started the race, I was told that the average attrition rate is about 1 in 4 and that proved to very accurate as there were 95 withdrawals.  It was cold to start with, bitterly so on top of Ingleborough and I did fear the worst for a while, however the day warmed up and by the time we were running the ridge between Gragareth and Great Coum the sun was shining and all traces of snow and ice had disappeared. Before I forget, I must mention the incident I saw when descending Ingleborough via the Swine Tail: It was very icy/slippy and while everyone was being careful, the whole situation was exacerbated by a group of walkers coming UP the path. Some silly tw*t decided he couldn't wait and tried to cut a corner, the result - predictably - was that he lost his footing on the icy ground and flew down the slope, colliding with one of the walkers who was slowly picking his way upwards, He smashed into the (quite elderly) gentleman with both feet, all I can say is that it was a miracle that nobody was badly hurt. It's this sort of stuff that gets fell runners a bad name .... the least he could have done was apologise, but he didn't even do that! Sigh.
Anyhow, apart from Helen falling into a deep bog on the aforementioned ridge leading to Great Comb, it went pretty well, we reached Dent for the first big checkpoint (there are 24 in total) and I was surprised to see so many ashen-faced runners waiting for transport to ship them back to the start. I suppose there will have been a multitude of reasons for the various withdrawals, but from what I hear a lot of them were from runners with no background in fell running or mountaineering and I guess they just underestimated the severity of the terrain. We pushed on, making good time up the Craven Way to Blea Moor and onwards to Stonehouse before climbing Arten Gill and Great Knoutberry. This is where it starts getting serious, it's late afternoon and everyone wants to push on as far as they can before being grouped. This is a safety measure, basically you are required to spend the dark hours as group of 4 people minimum and there are different time deadlines for this. Bobs, my mate Mark and myself were aiming to finish somewhere around the 18-hour marks and I was pretty sure we were going to get grouped at the Fleet Moss checkpoint and so it turned out. This was a bit of a worry, as navigationally the part of the Fellsman from Fleet Moss through to the Middle Tongue checkpoint and onwards to Hell Gap is possibly the most difficult part of the course and we didn't want to be grouped with anyone who was at odds with our proposed route. As it turns out, we needn't have worried and we were grouped with a decent bloke (Pete from Retford) who was quite happy to let us take the lead.
It was now getting dark and the temperature fell accordingly, I can think of few places in England that are lonelier that Fleet Moss at nightfall .... however, we pushed on and found Middle Tongue easily, we were still moving well and started to overtake other runners as headed off towards Hell Gap. A good push onwards to Cray and we were suddenly within 10 miles of the finish - just the small matter of a lot of rough ground and, worryingly, Buckden Pike and Great Whernside to get over. Buckden Pike came and went with no problem, it felt like familiar territory, so all the recce work paid off. It was pitch dark and I knew I was enjoying myself, we pulled into the Park Rash checkpoint and after fuelling up, set off on the last major climb of the Fellsman. A few weeks previously I had climbed Great Whernside in deep snow, but today there wasn't a trace. As we climbed, it got steadily colder and I could feel the ground beneath my feet crunching as the ice began to form. It was a cloudless night and the moon burned a magnificent orange to illuminate our way, I felt truly privileged to be able to do this. I know I've waxed lyrical about mountains at night before, but there is something truly special about running in the hills at night. I don't know what it is, whether it's the freedom or simply the insanity of it all, whatever, I was in my happy place and will always remember how brilliant it was. All too soon we were down at the Capplestone Gate checkpoint and there wasn't much more to go. Down the muddy trail to Yarnbury and the final, quad-crushing descent down into Grassington before a sharp right turn to Threshfield and the finish. My final figures were 61.5 miles, 11,550ft of climb in 18hrs 31, though this doesn't take into account any time rebate for grouping at Fleet Moss. I can't say I'm unhappy with that, though I am convinced we could have easily taken 30 minutes off the overall time. Perhaps next year eh?
Next on the list is the Day in the Lakes triathlon, followed by the Lakeland 50. Never a dull moment round here
I was considering what's coming up when I realised with a start that with the Fellsman over I must be close to 2014 UTMB (Ultra Trail de Mont Blanc) qualifying criteria. A quick check reveals that I actually have 8 points right now from 3 qualifying events (Bob Graham Round, Tour de Helvellyn, Fellsman) and if I successfully complete the Lakeland 50 will have 10 overall. You need 7 to enter the UTMB ballot.
Dare I?

Postscript:  I dared!

Getting The Miles In ....

My training log tells me that last week we covered 72 miles over a six-day period, all of it on fairly tough off-road terrain. That might not be a great deal for some of the mile-munchers out there, but it's quite a lot for us. I think the fact that we (ie. Helen and myself) survived and are feeling okey-dokey is testimony to the recent training regime and I think we're looking forward to the Fellsman with a bit more optimism.

We got a good chunk of those miles during a Fellsman recce on Tuesday - and I have to say I picked the right day to have off, the weather was glorious - we parked at Ribblehead then took the 3Ps route up Whernside, from there it was down to Kingsdale, up Gragereth (steep!) and along a very nice ridgeline to Great Coum and then down to Dent. From here, it was a bit of a slog up to and across Blea Moor and then we called it quits and took part of the Dalesway back to Gearstones and then Ribblehead, around 25 miles and 5,000ft of climb in total..

On Saturday we did the Haworth Hobble (aka "Wuthering Hike"), this is a 32-mile off-road event that takes in a big chunk of the Bronte Moors and is pretty tough. It was my first time at this race and although I knew some of the route, we were on our own for a good part of it and so navigation was required here and there, this was exacerbated by snow showers on the higher ground .... not one for the faint-hearted, you definitely need to pull up your big boy/girl pants to get round this with your faculties intact.   Saying that, I hugely enjoyed it, this was one of our planned steps towards the Fellsman and it was a good exercise in pacing and taking on food/water at regular intervals, this is something that Helen doesn't do so well and I think the penny is beginning to drop. We carried far too much food with us of course, I wish I'd listened to a pal's advice in this respect because the various checkpoints had plenty of food - you were even offered a shot of whisky at the Mankinholes CP! It was great to see so many friends at the finish, lots of Dallam runners showed up and I am seriously impressed at some of the finishing times. My friends Emma and Carol (running as a pair) finished as first ladies in 5.44, a terrific performance and one to be proud of. DT and Stef had a good run too and looked relaxed and happy at the finish, all looking good for Stef's BGR attempt in May I think.

A Truly Romantic Ideal .....

Is it wrong to repost one of you own blogs?  I was reading this entry from 2011 in my "other" blog forum.  At the time, the Bob Graham Round was just a fanciful notion .... it's worth reproducing here, if only to make me realise how much water has gone under the bridge since then.  It also gives me a lot of satisfaction of course!

 

I don't suppose my preoccupation with The Bob Graham Round is much of a secret to those who know me, however I've tried to keep it low-key and deliberately not blogged much about it, or indeed, said much about it outside my immediate circle of friends or to family. Of course, this has been nothing more than a protection mechanism against the realities of the enormous challenge that is the BGR; those who know about it - and if you don't, please Google it now - will be aware of the difficulties and dangers, the physical effort required and the inevitable blood, sweat and tears that are part of the package. Since my interest was first kindled I have not wanted to publicly commit to any kind of firm involvement, just in case it turns out I don't have the desire, nerve and commitment needed to embark on a regime that would ultimately see me attempting to cover the best part of 66 miles over 42 Lakeland summits with a culmulative ascent/descent of around 28,000ft, all within a 24-hour window. Sounds hard doesn't it? It is, pardon me, unbelievably fucking hard.

With all that said, the truth of the matter is that I don't think I can keep stumm much longer and it's time to come clean. Several weeks back I was I was fortunate enough to be part of Dave Almond's support team for his successful BGR attempt and this weekend just gone I did the same for my friend Neil and this, coupled with a signicant amount of time spent up in the Lakes lately has turned a wavering desire into a firm objective, a life-goal that I desperately want to achive. Believe me when I tell you that not a single day goes by without my dreaming, scheming or thinking about the Bob Graham Round in some way or another and it's all wonderful.

I first heard of the BGR a few years ago, when I heard that one of our club members - a good runner - was taking a season off from competing in local races because he was training for something odd called a "Bob Graham Round". I was curious and eventually (like so many others) read Richard Askwith's "Feet in The Clouds" where everything was explained in very graphic detail. The seed was planted and it came at a time when I was getting thoroughly bored with road running and moving to more off-road stuff, even dabbling with the odd fell-race. You see, I've reached the point where the road has totally lost its appeal, I'm tired of constantly chasing rainbows and the repetitive impact has caused me all sorts of injuries, because biomechanically I am not that good. Off-road I seem to cope much better. Also, it's just like the Inov-8 advert says - once it gets in your blood, off-road running is a very powerful narcotic. If that's true, then fell-running in The Lakes is the most addictive of them all ....

I'm the sort of bloke who has to have a goal to aim for and as a result tend to jump feet-first into things that interest me. I've indulged in various obsessions over the years, but I've stayed passionate about a couple of things since I was very young. One is [soul] music, the other is The Outdoors and by that I mean camping, mountains, orienteering, backpacking. It's always fascinated me, but as a young lad I could never really afford all the bits and pieces I needed. School holidays would come round and we'd pack all our stuff up into some tatty old rucksacks and my dad would dump us somewhere up in the Peak District, we'd walk for miles, camp without permission, wonder if we'd ever dare to do the Pennine Way and wonder who the hell this Wainwright bloke was. So, fell-running and the BGR fits that particular passion very well, the difference this time is that nowadays I am a) considerably older and much more breakable and b) Have more common sense.

Alright, b) is debatable.

So I have committed to the cause and am truly loving the time I spend up in The Lakes, but must confess that until the last few years I hardly knew the area at all, most of my outdoor experience was gained in Snowdonia and The Peak District or wherever the military establishment chose to send me. I've spent a lot of time up there this year, almost to the point where Keswick seems to be a second home and I'm on nodding terms with the lady who runs the Kingfisher fish and chip shop. It has been fantastic, I look forward to every dash up to the Lakes and feel a thrill of excitement when I see those mountains. My life has a new focus and I consider myself fortunate to have met some truly wonderful people into the process. This is not just me, of course. My infinitely better half (Helen) loves the outdoors as much as me, so a lot of the BGR recce stuff we've done has been a joint effort and she has began to accumulate a lot of the BGR lore that is vital to a true understanding of the Round's mystique. It also makes it much easier if your wife is quite willing to spend all weekend in a rain-soaked tent and get up at 2.00am to convey her insane husband and his mates to a pre-arranged rendezvous point.

We were very fortunate to be up there during that spell of nice weather in May and it was probably the most enjoyable time I've spent with my clothes on in recent years, armed with a handful of OS maps and a dubious sense of direction, we got some serious miles under our belt, covering hefty chunks of the BGR at a time. It was glorious ..... I remember we were on a leg 3 recce (Dunmail to Wasdale) and we'd done an out-and-back thing, parking at Dunmail for the day. It was getting towards evening and we were on our way back to Steel Fell and the steep drop back down the fell, so we stopped for a breather and watched the distant horizon bathed in the early evening sunlight. It was incredibly peaceful, I felt like we were the only souls around, the summits of Bow Fell and Esk Pike soared high above the rugged scenery and I knew I was in the right place. It seemed a quintessentially British place, somewhere unique and worth fighting for. I knew I was in a privileged position to even be there and all of a sudden it seemed very important to quantify that, to earn my right to walk these fells and stand shoulder-to-shoulder with men and women with whom I would be proud to be mentioned in the same breath. The BGR would be my rite of passage.

Of course, it's not all glorious weather and inspiring scenery, but I never expected it to be. A couple of weeks back Helen and I went up to Wasdale for what was meant to be a week of relaxed camping and multiple BGR recces, however in typical fashion we got monsoon conditions. We endured, however, and still managed to cram about 70 miles and 20,000ft of climbing into the week, including that bloody awful climb from the back of the Wasdale Head Inn up to the summit of Kirk Fell. The point I'm making is that I know it's going to be hard and I'm prepared for that. 2012 will see me attempt the Bob Graham Round and it will be in the wake of a lot of training and planning. If I fail - and a lot off attempts do - then I will try again, but in the end it won't matter because the BGR has already given me more than I've put in and for that I will be eternally grateful.


Footnote:  for those who don't know, I succesfully got round the BGR in August 2012

A Lovely Morning .....

It seems a bit paradoxical to use such a title when outside it's snowing heavily, however it absolutely was one of my better mornings. I was up early for pre-work swim training and 0630 saw me ploughing up and down the pool at one of Harrogate Tri's coached sessions and it didn't go at all badly: my bilateral breathing is definitely getting better and I'm feeling stronger generally. Had no problem keeping up with swimming mate Emma, although she definitely has the edge when it comes to drill work - I sort of make up for the difference with brute-force and ignorance.  A swift change and off to work, it had snowed overnight and the roads were just clearing and the skies were blue and all around was that crystalline, winter clarity that makes you glad to be alive. I always find the view down into Nidderdale inspiring, if conditions are good you can see Great Whernside in the distance and Barden Fell and Rocking Hall are usually there, tempting me to go and run over them. Maybe it's the endorphins that result from a concerted hour of swimming, but I was seriously full of beans and happy to be alive, even though the next thing on the agenda was work! There are other reasons for this actually: i) I was back under my fighting weight this morning (10st 9lb) and that makes me happy, a bit more of that and I know my run performances will improve. Also, last night I got back on my gym hill-climb regime for the first time since August (ie. since my final session prior to BGR) and all in all, it wasn't bad. I didn't expect miracles, but managed the best part of 2700ft in 30 mins and the very fact that I stayed on the thing for 30 mins is proof that all is not yet lost. Training on this machine is VERY hard ..... I once did 3000ft in 29.17 so have a way to go, but this is a good start. Home for a quick change then off to pilates, I do believe that things are on the up in this regard too - I still struggle with some of the core strength routines, but given that I'd just done that hill climb session I thought that things went pretty well.

Reading the above, that might sound like a lot of training in less than 24 hours (true) - particularly if you consider that I intend to go interval training with the club tonight .... I have no doubt that I will find this very hard, but it will take me forward and that's what I need. The truth is, I had a bit of a wake-up call on Saturday at the Rombalds Stride, I had an absolutely f***ing TERRIBLE run, finishing 15 mins slower than last year. I can't explain it, conditions were great for running and all things being equal I should have been looking at a sub-4 finish (one of the guys I beat at the Tour de Helvellyn in Dec did exactly that), so what went wrong? I really don't know - I had no energy, my hip flexors hurt and the cold air was rasping in my chest. Doesn't sound good does it? I was running with Helen and mates Em and Carol, but just told them to leave me as we started the climb on the final section, I wanted to be grumpy in solitude. Ironically, I started feeling better on the steep climb up The Chevin, but the final run down into Guiseley was still painful. Common sense dictates that I shouldn't be too harsh on myself, I had only finished a course of antibiotics on the previous day and the preceding few weeks had seen me in a pretty poorly state - but that's not human nature of course and particularly mine. I was very pissed-off and it came as some surprise that I felt so good the following day - I certainly didn't feel like I'd done a tough 22-mile fell race.

Anyhow, this has all been a convoluted way of me explaining why I've been training so hard over the last 24 hrs. The time has come to stop fannying around, I have goals for 2013 and I'm not going to achieve them sitting on my backside.

Back In The Groove Again

We returned from our sojourn in Lanzarote little more than a week ago and I have to say it's depressing that all that nice sun and lazing about is now just a distant memory.  We hit the ground running upon our return, landing at 0230 on the Monday morning, home at about 0400 then work at 0830. The rest of the week passed in a blur, it's little wonder I felt knackered by the end of it.

We didn't have much opportunity to get our breath back, on Saturday morning we were off to the Lakes to do the Langdale Horseshoe, this is the last of the Lakeland Classics and is a tough race over a terrific course. I was really looking forward to it and it didn't disappoint. Weather was a bit iffy to start with and as we toiled up Stickle Ghyll and the side of Pavey Ark, there was not much of a view and there was a good layer of cloud above us. However, as we crossed Thunacar Knott and Martcrag Moor the clag lifted and blue sky was visible, before long we had a magnificent, sun-dappled panorama around us with thin wisps of cloud floating in front of the crags, quite magical. Helen and I ran pretty much together and I suppose we pushed each other along a bit. The climbs weren't too bad, but the ground was very wet - much more so than last year - and the traverse under Esk Pike was truly horrible, slipping and sliding all the bloody place. We got a good line up to Bowfell (where there was snow!), but conversely what felt like a rotten descent off the summit and down to Crinkle Crags, however I think that's just because it was so wet and slippery. I'm sorry to say that we messed up the Crinkles, this was our first return to them since last year's race and we allowed ourself to do the Sheep Thing and be led astray. And we knew better. We took a wide line to the West and over the little col rather than directly over the tops, this would have been OK if we'd immediately traversed East and not lost too much height .... but we didn't and the result was a very steep climb up to the summit of Long Top and we missed it even then, having to double back about 50 metres to the checkpoint. Thankfully, there was no dramas at the Bad Step and we scooted around the side with no problem, followed by a very hard stomp down to the foot of Pike O' Blisco and an equally hard climb up it.  The descent down Wrynose Fell to Langdale was necessarily cautious - everyone was really sliding around - but we made up several places and in the end finished a few minutes faster than last year, so I don't think we can complain.

Up to Keswick afterwards to our B & B, a quick mud-removal exercise and then out to the pub to meet DT & Stef who had been having several restorative drinks since finishing the Four Lakeland Passes LDWA event that day. A swift couple of beers were followed by an excellent curry in the Lakeland Spice, truly delicious and I enjoyed the evening hugely.

Next day saw the four of us head down to Ambleside and up onto the Fairfield Horseshoe. Must admit that I wasn't in the finest of fettles, I do believe I had a bit of a baggy head going on.  In any event, we weren't rushing and we made easy progress up to the area of Hart Crag where, very sadly, Darren Holloway from Pennine Fell Runners died last weekend. DT and Stef knew Darren and we helped build up the little cairn that his family and friends had started there. Stef had some white roses to place in the centre and by the time we left it was looking more substantial. It's a good place for a memorial to a terrific fell runner, right at the head of the Horseshoe with commanding views all over the Lake District.

Down to Rydal Hall afterwards in some glorious autumnal sunshine for a cuppa and a pretty enormous slice of carrot cake, it was a cracking end to a great day out, even if it was tinged with sadness. It's weekends like this that make me glad to be alive and doing what I do.

Not The Best of Weeks

It's funny how life can take you from a very high point and plunge you deep into the mire, that's pretty much what happened to me last week. It started off with a problem that Helen had at work, I won't go into details but it meant that she was facing a reprimand for stuff that really wasn't her fault and naturally, she felt pretty badly about this. One her characteristics is that she absolutely hates being blamed for anything - whether guilty or innocent - and over the years I've learned to keep absolutely stumm when there's the smallest chance of my words being taken as an inference of blame. No surprise then that this really upset her and brought on a bit of a desolate mood, one that I recognise and from which I know it's all but impossible to extricate her.

So things around Chez Exile were not at all sunny if I'm honest, but they got immeasurably worse around 0500 on Wednesday morning when the phone rang, shaking me out of a pretty deep sleep: It was the police, calling from Leeds General Infirmary with the news that my youngest son, Matt, had been assaulted during the early hours by some drunken/drugged yob and was in A & E in a pretty bad way - initial examination appeared to indicate that his jaw had been broken in several places. Needless to say, we rushed off to Leeds post-haste, I was half-mad with worry about his safety and anger at him letting this happen. I should point out here that Matt does live with me, his mother and I have been divorced for years and she actually lives in Devon - *nearly* far enough, though I'd prefer it if she was on the other side of the channel.

We got there and he was in a bad way, his face was already very swollen and there was lots of blood around, the policeman who made the initial response was taking his statement. Here's what happened: Matt and his mates were on a night out in Leeds to say goodbye to each other, they'd been friends for years and were now off to University and going their seperate ways. They left whatever place they'd been in and were asking directions (not sure where to) from a group of four lads when one of them - immediately to Matt's left and for no obvious reason - hit him in the face, breaking his jaw in 4 places and fracturing the upper right joint. Hitting someone from outside their peripheral vision is a cowardly thing to do, but entirely in keeping with some of the scumbags you get thereabouts, I can't really describe how mad I was when I discovered this, but my immediate concern was for Matt's well-being.

He was put immediately onto the "acute" list and had to wait about 30 hours for surgery. This might sound like a long time, but I'm assured it's far from abnormal .... all I can say is that it's heartbreaking to see one of your own children in such distress, his mouth and teeth were completely messed up and he was quite incapable of either eating, swallowing or even yawning. They gave him an strong IV painkiller (tramadol?) and it was the first time in his life that he'd been given any kind of opiate and I'm sorry to say he reacted very badly to this, his pulse raced to over 115, broke out in a sheen of sweat and would have been very sick if there was anything inside him at all. The retching caused him agony, not at all funny. Anyhow, he was wheeled in around 1400 on Thursday afternoon and actually in theatre for 3 hours. I'm told that LGI has some of the best maxillo-facial surgeons in the country and I don't doubt it. When he came out of surgery things looked hugely improved - his face looked aligned and in proportion again, the swelling had considerably reduced - this was because they had taken a huge blood clot out of his cheek (with a commensurate hole/stitches unfortunately) and the very good news was that they'd only had to remove one tooth - a wisdom tooth - during the course of the operation.

The bad news is that he how has four titanium plates holding his left cheek and chin together, along with four (temporary) titanium studs inside his mouth that have bands attached to keep his upper and lower jaw aligned. The swelling came back pretty soon after the operation and he is as bruised as hell, plus in considerable discomfort. I suppose we should be grateful really, this could easily have killed him. He was released from hospital late on Friday and spent most of the weekend sleeping, I'm also pleased to report that he is looking a lot more chirpy today and we're making progress with things that he can eat. Obviously there is no question of chewing his food, so it's a soft diet for the next 6 - 8 weeks. Helen has made a cauldron of her delicious veggie soup (which I love as well ), smoothies, oatmeal, scrambled egss, chilli .... that's how far we've got to date. He will be fine. Of more concern is his Uni start-date, I was meant to be taking him to Newcastle on Saturday to begin life as a Bloody Student, but I suppose that will be dependent on the outcome of his first follow-up appointment tomorrow. I hope it works out for him, he will be devastated if anything affects that start date.

Changing subject, all this meant that we had no exercise all week and by Saturday lunchtime I was chafing at the bit. The sun was shining so I went out for a quick bat around my local "short course" on my bike and then on Sunday we met up with Andrew and Stef for a nice 14 mile run out on Barden Fell and up to Simon's Seat, then back to Storiths afterwards for bacon butties, cake and tea. I felt nearly normal again by Sunday night.

Watching the news that night, I was surprised to see the highlights of the GNR - I'd completely forgotten it was on! Not that I paid it much attention mind you, I'm not a supporter of this race (despite the fact that I've done it in the past). I know this event is important to a lot of people and if that's the limit of their expectations, all well and good. Personally, I think it's a crap course for such a big race and once I'd learned the extent to which Nova International rip off Joe Public and all those charities, well, there isn't a chance of me augmenting Brendan Foster's pension fund. I don't know how he gets away with it to be honest, it's plain usury. In terms of mass-participation events, the London Marathon is infinitely better value and a better race.

Anyhow, enough of my whining. Later.

Out in Bronte Territory

Went over to Haworth yesterday to do the Yorkshireman half, this wasn't on my radar post-BGR but I was going along to watch anyhow (Helen had an entry) and a mate offered me a place, so I thought I might as well give it a go - is three weeks enough to recover from a BGR? The short answer is No.
It was a lovely day for a run over the moors and I did enjoy it, however I found it hard going in places and I could tell that my body is still tired. I've heard from other people that it takes longer than you think to get back to "normal" fitness after something as debilitating as a BGR and I now see what they mean. Climbs I would have normally whizzed up felt hard and the long run down the moor to the end didn't feel as easy as it should have done. Still, I didn't do too badly - I think I came 87th our of 250, so not a disaster.
On the plus side, it was great to catch up with people, I got a hug from the lovely Mel who was there with hubby and several other wonderful people were in attendance, I do like these occasions, they're right sociable aren't they? Also, some other friends did pretty well .... BGR mate Linda won the lady vets category in the marathon and Emma and pal Tracy from Chapel Allerton won the ladies team event, big cheers all round.

Bob Graham Round Success - The Final Chapter

Leg 5 Support Runners:
Andrew Kitts (navigation)
Stef French
Mark David
Emma David
Elise Milnes

I've made a pretty glaring omission in my narrative so far insomuch as I've made no mention at all about one of the most important facets of trying to get round a BGR and that's your fuelling strategy. Obviously you have to do your best to stay hydrated and on a coolish day this should be achievable, particularly as it's easier to drink than it is to eat when your bodily systems are all shutting down.  Of course a major issue here is that on the big day your supporters have to carry your water as well as their own and it can be a little taxing when you're faced with a major climb.  My plan was to ask each supporter to carry 500ml and if necessary refuel at one of the many little springs that are on the route. I've never taken water from Wiley Gill or the Caldew on leg 1 (it's probably OK), but leg 2 has a good spring as you go round Grisedale Tarn, there's a very good one climbing Bowfell on leg 3 and there's a usable one on the slope as you approach the Scoat Fell wall line on leg 4.  Although I'd got both water and electrolyte in equal measure, it probably wasn't going to be enough to keep my big enemy at bay: Cramp.  Every marathon I've done has been blighted by this and I've never been able to really get to the root cause of it all, however I was supporting a mate on leg 3 of his BG last year and I saw him using something he described as "anti-cramp tablets" and I investigated. They're actually called Endurolytes and made by Hammer Nutrition, pretty expensive for what they are but they work. Really work. I had a bag of these in the back of my shorts and started using them from leg 2 onwards. Total recommend from me, I have no doubts as to their effectiveness.

What you eat is a much more complex matter and the subject of massive discussion among people interested in doing the BGR, it was also one of the major factors in my demise in June. It IS possible to get round on energy gels - I know a bloke who consumed over 20 torq gels as he went round a few months back, I've also heard of a guy who did it entirely on Kendal Mint Cake. I wouldn't recommend either approach, but of course what works for one may not for another. The general consensus is that you should eat "proper" food as much as possible, preferably low GI with a bit of protein mixed in. There's also a good rule of thumb that you should attempt to take in most of your food early on in the round (within the first 12 hours) as it may not be physically possible to eat much later on - that's when stuff like gels come in. Well, my food bags all had stuff like cereal bars, malt loaf, hobnobs, fig rolls, pork pies (really) and cheese butties made with wholegrain bread. I knew I would have to eat as much as possible on the early legs and that's just what I did, I really went for it on leg 1 and felt like i couldn't eat another thing. Did pretty much the same on leg 2 and believe that this is what gave me the energy source for the rest of the round, because my desire to eat pretty much disappeared halfway through leg 3. At pitstops I decided on granola breakfast cereal with skimmed milk, my idea being that it would be easy to eat and give me that low GI energy source, however in practice I only managed this at Threlkeld and at Dunmail and in retrospect it was a bad idea - the problem here was it sat really heavily and for a good part of the round I felt very bloated by all the stuff I'd jammed in. It would have been better to have something like soup at the stops and save the bulk of the eating for when actually out on the individual legs. When the point came on leg 3 where I just couldn't face normal food, Rick gave me some mint cake and I found it really easy to eat and obviously was a good energy source that would have given my (low) blood sugar a boost, so much so that he gave me all his supply and as you'll have read earlier, ran ahead to Wasdale to order more! It was just another thing that went right on the day and ensured that I will always have some mint cake on hand for future BG supports, an essential item.  Thanks Rick, in retrospect you might have saved the day.

So back onto the matter in hand. My supporters for leg 5 were our friends Andrew (navigating) along with his good lady Stef, Emma (who did leg 1 also) and hubby Mark, Elise also elected to carry on from leg 4 and finish the whole thing. Helen desperately wanted to run a leg with me, however she was very busy with managing the support arrangements and feeding everyone, so we agreed that she would run in with me from Newlands, i.e. the final 5 miles or so back to Keswick that you do on the road - by that time her duties were over. I should also add that our club chairman Tony Essex had made the trip up from Harrogate, he's not a fell runner but has been marvellously supportive of me and had decided to come up and give me a cheer for which I was (and am) very grateful - he was going to run in from Newlands also.

Emma, Stef and DT - Leg 5 Support Team

Andrew led the way up Dale Head and I steeled myself for the last major climb of the round. On training days I've skipped up here in around 30 minutes, but today my legs felt like lead and I had to really concentrate on keeping they moving onwards and upwards. Andrew and Mark were up ahead, Stef (who is a terrific BG supporter btw) stuck by my side and she, Emma and Elise coaxed me up Dale Head with a steady flow of encouraging words and tiny pieces of mint cake, determined that whatever happened, I wouldn't be running out of fuel. Nothing was too much trouble, if I wanted a drink it was there in a second, if I was cold my jacket magically appeared and was put on me without breaking stride - thanks girls, you were absolutely fantastic.  Dale Head summit came in 37 minutes (on schedule) and as we turned towards Hindscarth I think I dared to believe that this really was going to happen and that I, fool that I am, was going to conquer one of the biggest and toughest challenges out there.  The one that Chris Brasher tried and failed to get round, calling it "desperately difficult".  The one that said No to Sir Ranulph Fiennes and so many others.  The one that said No to me just a few months previously.  I didn't dare to be smug or assume anything, there would be time for that later.

In case anyone's wondering, BG schedules are designed to account for attrition, by that I mean they account for the fact that you get progressively slower and more tired as the round goes on - it's for this reason that you hear a lot of people being down on time at Wasdale and then making up 30mins + on legs 4 and 5, i.e. the flex is there in the later legs. None of that for me though, I was 100% focussed on sticking to my schedule and arriving off the fells in something like a condition to tackle the road section. It was claggy and wet, though not really cold. Poor Stef had to cope with me putting on/taking my jacket off every five minutes, as well as doing her best to keep me moving at the necessary pace, I must have been a proper pain in the proverbial.  Hindscarth came and went in 19 minutes (slowish) and Andrew called over his shoulder to me that the roast beef is pretty good at the Bob Graham Club dinner and I do believe a pang of elation swept through me but I suppressed it just as quickly - I wasn't out of the woods yet. We set off down the long, rocky path to the foot of Robinson and one climb seperated me from the 42nd and last peak. When we reached the bottom, I had a momentary start as I saw Andrew head up the fence line rather than the rising traverse to the right that takes you to the summit, however quickly realised that because conditions were poor and the top shrouded by cloud, he was taking no chances and had opted for the safe route.  And a good decision it was too, it would have been terrible to be messing around in the clag trying to find the very last top.

Emma was waiting as Stef and I climbed the final few feet to the summit plateau and before long we had come to the Robinson shelter and that was it, all 42 done. I expected to feel some sort of sense of achievement or elation, but to be honest I was so brain-dead by now that all I could think about was the descent down to the valley floor. There are numerous ways to descend Robinson and I have fairly mixed feelings on the subject.  I do like the Snab Bank route for instance, but the most direct is simply by dropping more or less due East off the summit plateau and getting down to the valley floor as soon as possible. The drawback is that it's steep, tricky to get the right line and at this point, most contenders are totally fooked (if you'll excuse my use of the vernacular).  Dave Harrison knows this line well and very kindly agreed to meet us on top of Robinson to guide us down.  Sure enough, there he was in the mist and led us down a fantastic line down the side of the fell, yes, my quads were giving me grief and every muscle in my body was begging to stop, but the reality of the situation was beginning to sink in and as we reached the valley floor and ran up the path to the fell gate, I'm sorry to say that I had a severe attack of melodrama a la "Feet In The Clouds" and my mind was filled with the memories of the months of training and weekend recces that had brought me here, of the miles and miles over cold, damp fells with no view to speak of and nothing but a biting headwind for company ..... all a bit pathetic really and just sentimental nonsense.  There is nothing sentimental about the Bob Graham Round.

Before I knew it I'd reached the fell gate and from this point onwards it was just road.  Helen and Tony were there along with Dave Almond who had also come round to make absolutely certain I got in. I was really glad to see them.  A quick change into road shoes and we were off down the lane, I had a little over 90 minutes to get to Keswick and every expectation of success. As we went up the lane to Little Town I looked behind me and had a fabulous view of the Newlands Valley with Robinson and Hindscarth shrouded in mist and I gave a whoop of delight, I'd just done the Lake District Grand Tour and felt it was only right to say goodbye.  Or should that have been au revoir?

The Newlands Valley - it was magical!

I've ran this section on multiple occassions and *usually* enjoy it a great deal, there is something special about being part of a successful BGR and that run up to the Moot Hall that is life-affirming and brings a big smile to everyone's face.  Done a couple of fast ones too, on Dave Almond's BGR last year we charged to Keswick in some ridiculous time and only the weekend before had ran in with Carol in 46m (the fact that she'd done her BGR the weekend was why she wasn't out on the fells with me this time). I'd hoped to be somewhere around the 50m mark myself, but I ran into a painful problem - my feet. Don't know why I didn't really notice this before, but my feet had taken a tremendous battering and were very bruised underneath as well as very swollen from being permanently wet.  I did the whole thing in Inov8 Mudclaw 272s and this worked - the grip is unbelievable from these shoes - the downside is nearly zero cushioning and although I'd changed into a nice cushioned pair of Asics at the top of the lane, the impact of running properly on the road was causing me severe grief. Jesus it hurt, it was like spikes being shoved into the balls of my feet and I confess that I was in agony. I tried running on my heels but that was just ridiculous, the best I could manage was a short run up to the excruciating point then a fast walk.  I think by this point I knew that nothing was going to stop me, the Bob Graham Round had been mine on that day and very shortly I would come into Keswick having had that Grand Day Out On The Fells that people talk about. Andrew, Stef and Dave were never far away, Helen and Elise were running at my shoulders and Mark and Emma strode on ahead as if they were clearing any potential obstacles out of my way, what a fantastic crew, what a brilliant day, what had I done in all those years of undiscovered badness to deserve such rewards? I was totally humbled and didn't dare speak in case I said something more stupid than normal.

We crossed the footbridge en masse and I could see the rooftops of Keswick before me: This was it, I was going to do it!   We turned into the High Street and the pace upped, the pain in my battered feet forgotten. Across the mini roundabout and the last vestiges of adrenalin in my system ignited and I sprinted as hard as my exhausted body would let me.

Running up Through Keswick Town Square

I could see everyone at the Moot Hall cheering and thought my heart would burst and then - The Door. The famous Green Door. I hit the door and my knees sank beneath me, this was it, the end of the road.

I'd done the Bob Graham Round.

I hate to quote from well-known books, but as I stood I could really feel the weight lifting from my shoulders and nothing but joy and gratitude to all the fantastic people who had helped me get here, not only my wonderful wife who has had to put up with so much and supported me through thick and thin, but those who came out with me to run over dark and cold mountains in all weathers and the dead of night, just so I could achieve my grand ambition. Of course, I had to go up the steps to the top door for the traditional celebration and I now know why people look so wobbly when they do it, it felt like going up Yewbarrow again.

You'll also see what I mean from the You Tube clip here, I must admit that I like seeing this - I might have been tired, but it brings home the joy every time I see it.

As we milled around in front of the Moot Hall, I tried to drink in every moment (and some champagne), knowing that this was one of my Best Ever Moments.  I'd been here with others and felt nothing but admiration for a supreme effort and now it was my turn, I couldn't quite believe it if I'm totally truthful.  We all retired to the pub for a celebratory pint and I let reality sink in.
I suppose that's the end of my Bob Graham story for now, thanks very much for sticking with me this far.  I'll leave it a few months and then come back and speak of the aftermath, there will be a story worth telling I'm sure.

I'm really glad that the Bob Graham Round happened to me.

Bob Graham Round Success - Part #4

Leg 4 Support Runners:
Simon Noble (navigation)
Linda Murgatroyd
Elise Milnes
Alan Lucker

It occurs to me that before I continue much further with this little opus, some explanation about BGR protocol is required: There's nothing stopping anyone from registering an attempt and just turning up on the day with a few mates and doing it, however the chances of success are pretty small.  Extensive preparation and route reconnaissance is what most normal mortals have to do and it really takes a lot to be able to say with any semblence of truth that you know your way round the BGR. There are a lot of people out there with extensive experience of it, some of whom have not (whilst very knowledgeable) actually got round and I suppose - although it sounds terribly unkind - never will. These people are always willing to pass on their knowledge and if you're passionate enough, you'll soon start to unvravel the secrets. Moreover, I think it's important to be seen to "serve your time", there's a definite community out there (bigger and more closely-knit than you might expect) and you'll be expected to put in the training and commitment in return for support.

So, and this is the point I was coming to, although you are expected to be able to navigate yourself around the BGR from start to finish, on the day itself most people have nominated navigators, these are usually people who know the route intimately and can be relied on to get a contender to the end of a given leg no matter what the conditions.  It's a job that carries a lot of weight, you'll appreciate a person's hopes and dreams can rest on making the right decision at the right time. Of course, a contender will discuss route choice (because there are options) with his navigator and that's exactly what I did. Also, you usually have one or two other supporters who will carry your kit, food and water for you and generally jam it into you at every opportunity.  Again, the more experienced your supporters are the better, as they will understand the trauma and try and mitigate it as best they can. It's true that getting someone round a BGR is a massively rewarding and very social occasion.

I had a great team for leg 4 - my navigator for leg 4 was my pal Simon, he's a retired teacher (younger than me - how did he manage to retire so early??) who, when he's not roaming the fells, fills his time with voluntary work for Keswick Mountain Rescue.  He's as strong as an ox and great company, he recently got round his BGR at the second attempt in 22.45 so we have something in common, the difference between us was that he had a twenty year gap! This man knows every blade of grass on leg 4 and is a genuine authority on the Lakeland Fells.  Also keeping me company was a very experienced leg 4 person, Linda ("Mrs Stagger" for those that might recognise that handle), her friend Elise Milnes and Alan Lucker who had seen my attempt on the FRA forums and volunteered to come along. All of them had come over Beck Head from Honister via the Moses Trod into Wasdale.

We set off to cheers from the support team and I was already focussing on the climb in front of me, one of the worst on the round - Yewbarrow.  Affectionately termed "Yewbastard" among its many admirers, it takes about 45 - 48 minutes of hard effort on a typical 23hr schedule, is incredibly steep and comes at just the wrong time, i.e. when a contender is totally knackered and has just sat down for a few minutes of precious respite. Sorry to be harking back again, but the last time I was here with my mate Dave Almond navigating and Alix, Stuart and Tom pushing me along .... well, I was in a sorry state, it took 52 minutes of grievous effort and damn nearly broke my spirit and body, I was a mess. Today, well, I wasn't exactly doing cartwheels of joy but it didn't feel so bad.  Simon and Linda's cheery demeanours had already made me feel that anything was possible and despite the sun shining at my back, I just got on with it. I can't say it was easy - that would be a total fib - but following a trick that Dave Swift had shown me on leg 3, I just concentrated on Elise's heels in front of me and matched my pace to her as she went up the fell - it worked, and before long I was at the summit, on schedule and feeling like a massive weight had been lifted from my shoulders - I was in with a real chance.



"Yewbastard"

 Linda and Elise proved to be terrific supporters, they stuck by my side while Simon and Alan determined the best lines, always encouraging me to move faster, eat a little more and drink whenever I could. I followed Elise (who is a pretty good ultra-runner) up a lot of steep climbs on this leg and am now confident I could pick out her legs in an identity parade of 100, not that I'm suggesting she would ever be dragged into an identity parade you understand.

 Linda had even brought along a bottle of energy drink for me, her experience showed - this was was really easy stuff to stomach and was a life-saver for me, how thoughtful was that? Red Pike came and went, we reached Steeple (which I like) and although I was tired - no, bloody exhausted - there was absolutely no prospect of me backing off at this stage, it was all or nothing and in retrospect, it's good that I was thinking like that.

Steeple

The next one was Pillar, the place where I baled out last time, it was a real boost to hit the summit and realise that I was still on schedule. Did I dare believe? You know, I don't think I did and I'm being serious. I wanted this to happen so much, I just wouldn't permit myself to accept that my doing the Bob Graham Round was a foregone conclusion, not until I was in position where I could crawl and still make it. Right now I had another thing on my mind - the weather. The forecast had said that it was going to close in and as we ran off Pillar I could see the wisps of cloud sweeping in across Kirk Fell, the blue skies had disappeared and it looked like my jacket was going to be required after all. Down to Wind Gap we went and across that horrible slatey bit that leads up to Red Gully, a quick scramble and we were on our way to the summit. Right in front of me I could the brooding bulk of Great Gable, big grey clouds were already obscuring the summit and I was swearing under my breath, sadly I don't think it went unnoticed by Linda.  I've got one of those old fashioned switches in my head that normally prevents me from using bad language in front of the gentler sex and that's despite my being the Royal Navy Freestyle Swearing Champion from 1992 right up until I chucked it and got a proper job.

Very soon we were over Beck Head and climbing Great Gable and this is a proper climb, there's no nice little trod to run up, it was a scramble right up to the summit plateau made worse by the greasy, wet rocks. Simon led us to the Borrowdale race descent and we traversed nicely around the side of the mountain before linking in to the path down to Windy Gap and all of a sudden I felt incredibly weary, totally bone-tired. Normally, the climb up to Green Gable takes just a few minutes, but plodding up there felt like a mammoth task. I faltered for a second and I could see Linda and Elise looking back at me and a wave of pathetic self-pity swept through me and I damn nearly cried: If I hadn't flogged it off years ago I would have sold my soul to get round the BGR, I needed to get moving and now.

I'd prepared a little argument to present to myself in just this situation and it was something like this: "Why are you letting yourself even consider slowing down or worse, stopping? It's in sight - the object of your desire for so long, the thing you have spent so long and so much effort chasing, the impossible goal that you've dreamt of. Stop fucking about, turn on the reserve tank and get moving NOW!! Or words to that effect. Looking back, I have no idea what ignited the flame, whether it was anger, adrenalin, stubborness or just the passion I have for the thing, whatever - it worked. I shook off my apathy, powered to the little shelter, touched the cairn and just pushed onwards and ran straight off on the line to Brandreth. I was going to beat this.

The rest of leg 4 is pretty uneventful if I'm honest. It's an easy climb up to Brandreth and a simple trog across some boggy ground (the place where I innocently led my pal Alix into a deep bog last year) to Grey Knotts and was all done bang on schedule. The descent off Grey Knotts down to Honister was wet and slippy and I took it as easy as I dared, as I had to save my descending legs for that last painful drop off Robinson on leg 5, God, was I really that close? I could see the support team below, they must have been feeling as relieved as I did that I was more or less on time. The van was parked close to the path and I just collapsed into my chair, I felt totalled.

At Honister Slate Mine

Phil, Dave Swift and Chris (unbeknownst to me) had also ran over from Wasdale via a much more amenable route and had got to Honister 10 minutes ahead of me, they'd had us in their sights for a good while and reported back that all seemed well and on schedule. It was raining and Dave held a brolly over me, everyone was in waterproofs but I was in T-shirt and baseball cap, I suppose my metabolism was in overdrive because I didn't feel cold at all. Helen massaged my calves as I sipped my cuppa, she could tell I was tired but I saw no concern in her eyes, she just wanted me to get up and finish it off. Mark - who was my timekeeper as well as leg 5 support runner - made the point that if I cut this rest stop to 8 minutes I would leave dead on schedule.  So, at 2.30pm exactly I heaved myself vertical and turned towards the foot of Dale Head.  I had 3.5 hours exactly to get to Keswick. Barring disasters, I was going to make it. I couldn't fail now.

To be continued - watch out for the next part!

Bob Graham Round Success - Part #3

Leg 3 Support Crew:
Dave Harrison (navigation)
Dave Swift
Phil Sturgeon
Rick Air

Mid-August is getting a bit late in the BGR season, most people try and get their attempts done in June/July when there is more light available, though I don't suppose it's a hard and fast rule.  Anyhow, we left Dunmail pretty much on schedule (2.45am) and as we started the steep ascent of Steel Fell I knew that I had several more hours of darkness in front of me.  The darkness is definitely a psychological barrier, everyone wants it to be out of the way and headtorches off, things become easier and if you're on an early-evening start (as was I), you know there's no more darkness before the end - in theory at least. Nothing much was said as we went up Steel Fell, but that's how it normally is, more often than not you're breathing a little heavily, it's a bit taxing.  Dave Harrison made an interesting point actually, everyone looks at Steel Fell as being a killer point on the BGR and I suppose it is from a visual perspective (looks STEEP!), but it's actually the lowest peak on the entire round; from the contender's point of view you've just gone down Dollywaggon, up Fairfield, down Fairfield, up Seat Sandal, down Seat Sandal - all reasonably hefty ascents/descents and now you're faced with the prospect of going up Steel Fell and it all seems totally unreasonable, that's my thinking anyhow - one of those things you have to experience (and hopefully survive) to really appreciate.  I was glad to get to the top, bang on schedule and my focus was now the long trog to Calf Crag and onwards to the Langdale Pikes. This always seems to be a bit of a camel-hike and the pitch darkness meant that Dave was having to work extra-hard on navigation, it was a real relief when we got past Calf Crag and the trudge up to Sergeant Man was out of the way, as I can remember feeling really crap at about this point on attempt #1.

It's just occurred to me that I am making a lot of references and comparison to something that is best forgotten (i.e. my first attempt), I think you're going to have to forgive me for that, it was heartbreaking, damaging and yet at the same time highly instructional, so I suppose it's only natural that I'm going to use it as a yardstick.  Off away from Sergeant Man and High Raise came in 10 minutes, Thunacar Knott in 14, this was good and on schedule, but I then went on to lose a few of minutes on Pike o' Stickle and the same going up to Rossett Pike .... this, coupled with a few minutes that slipped away enroute to Calf Crag meant that all of a sudden I was down about 10 minutes and I didn't want that, I could see that Dave knew it too and was pushing me along.  In my defence, I have to say that conditions going across the infamous Martcrag Moor before beginning the ascent up to Rossett Pike were absolutely crap, it's no wonder we lost a bit of time:  The rain from the previous day(s) had meant that the whole surface of the moor undulated with your footstep and of course, there were going to be some deep bits. I think anyone with any experience of this part of the Lakes will have seen some poor soul go in up to his/her waist (and worse).

Moi on Martcrag Moor.  The picture fails to show how truly boggy the terrain is thereabouts.

By this time the dawn had truly broken and it gave me a massive lift, I needed to make up a little time and get things back on track. We dropped off Rossett Pike and began the ascent of Bowfell and I dug in. Now, I don't know if my scheduled time of 37 minutes for this ascent is a bit soft (both Dave Harrison and Andrew Kitts think it is and they generally talk sense) but I got up this one in 32 minutes and Dave gave me a "well done" on the summit. I never told him, but that little bit of encouragement did me the world of good, I felt really buoyed up - soft time target or not - and thought that this really could be on. From that point onwards you're in high, rocky territory and I needed the rain to stay away .... and it did. OK, the ground was wet but all the rock had dried off and this was hugely important, as wet, slimy rock really slows your progress. Esk Pike, Great End, Ill Crag, Broad Crag came and went in a flash, making up a few minutes along the way and before I knew it we were on the roof of England, Scafell Pike. It was early morning - about 7.50am - and there were just a few people on the usually crowded summit, they must have wondered why we didn't hang around to enjoy the view.  I just touched the trig point and Dave took me straight off and down to Mickledore for our transit to Scafell. I won't dwell too much on this, as most people are aware of the difficulties in getting between these two mountains. Suffice it to say that I tried out Broad Stand on a recce last year and there was no way I would try it on a BG attempt, although I'd happily climb it under normal "controlled" circumstances. This wasn't the time.

Mickledore (that is me by the way)

Broad Stand - much harder than it looks!

So that leaves only two choices - Foxes Gully and Lord's Rake and of the two I have no doubt that Lord's Rake is the faster. I had a few bad moments with LR earlier in the year, I was stuck up there in a howling snowstorm and it was pretty horrible, particularly as you moved off the West Wall Traverse into Deep Gill, it was clogged with snow and wasn't a pleasant experience getting to the top. No problems today though, I watched Dave H as he picked his way up the Rake and followed his line, it definitely seemed that there had been more rockfalls since my last visit, but it didn't matter - within 15 minutes we were on the top of Scafell and beginning the long descent down to Wasdale.

Rick ran on ahead with the food and clothing order (more mint cake needed!) and we picked our way downwards, I was very concious of the severity of this long descent and also the fact that last time I was hereabouts I managed to pick up a partial muscle hernia in my right shin that took weeks to heal. All was good, Dave knew I was being cautious and was trying to shave off corners here and there and as we neared the ridgeline across to Rakehead Crag we cut across some rough ground where I managed to catch my left foot in some deep hole with a resultant rolling somersault across the fell. No damage done, but as so often happens when you've been on feet for a long time my calf went into immediate spasm and cramped solid. I was flat on my back with my leg in the air, Phil bending my foot over in an attempt to stretch it out.  You can see this ridge from down at Brackenclose (Wasdale NT Campsite/Car park) with a pair of binos and/or good visibility, apparently there were cries of "no you silly bugger, further along the ridge" and "not there you daft sod" etc when it was observed that I had stopped. I'm sorry, but what could I do?


Waiting at Brackenclose, a fantastic morning.  Scafell in the background

 Anyhow, the scree descent went well and Dave picked up my requested line across the beck and through onto the foot of Lingmell, before long we were running into the pitstop, I was just 8 minutes down on schedule, which is absolutely nothing on a regular BG schedule.  I was very pleased with this.

Arriving at Wasdale, Dave Harrison leading

I was mightily chuffed to see Chris Rainbow there to see me (I'd seen his wife Tammy at the start in Keswick) and what a difference, last time it was concerned faces all round and I felt like death, here there was a real sense of cheerful occasion, Mark had sent Dave's daughters over to the campsite to get mintcake for me - more on this later - and the leg 4 team were getting ready for the off while Helen and Emma sorted out my legs/feet and made sure I was fed and watered.

I'd broken the back of it and pretty much set myself up for the ultimate prize, all I had to do was keep the tempo going over the mountains of leg 4 and it was mine for the taking. It occurs to me that it's very easy to sit here and type this, but the reality of the situation was somewhat different: OK, so I'd covered about 43 miles and survived the experience to that point, but there was still the small matter of another 11 mountains, 23 miles and 10,000-odd feet of climb to surmount. Easy?  You must be kidding.  Enough to freeze the blood in your veins if I'm honest.

To be continued - watch out for the next part!