“We’ve gone on holiday by mistake” – Withnail and I
It’s hard not feel slightly hard done by when your legs are feeling good but you’ve got your head over a toilet at 10pm. Ultrarunning right?
So, Lakeland 100 2018. Here I go again.
I’d outlined just two simple goals for this race; to enjoy it and not get hurt. I didn’t want to get to Tilberthwaite again and be sitting for ages saying ‘I am done with this distance, never again.’ I love running in the Lakes, I head over there regularly from our home in Co. Durham and I always enjoy myself, so I wanted that to be my race. It’s special and an absolute privilege to be able to run long distances and whilst I am not going to claim I don’t get grouchy at times during races I do try to keep smiling and remembering I am lucky (and wanted!) to be there.
Friday was a sauna, fortunately it had been a sauna for weeks, so at least we’d all had a chance to get used to it somewhat. However, sweating half my body fluids in the registration tent was probably something I could do without. I met Kate Sutton in the waiting line (who turned out to be a fellow Missing Link-er too 🙂 ) and then we seemed to bump into each other all over – side note here, Kate has been drawing amazing illustrations of her Lakeland journey and posting them on Instagram, I highly recommend checking them out for some chuckles!
Leaving Coniston to the sound of Thunderstruck – RD’s take note, AC/DC at startlines…. do it – and giving my 94 year old nanna a high five on the way out was pretty cool! The first climb is always tough, there’s the head swimming with thoughts about the enormity of the challenge, and the view from the top of Walna Scar pass lays out the immense landscape that you’ll have to conquer in the quest to make it back into Coniston 40 hours later. I took the descent super easy, I have made the mistake of going super fast down here on fresh legs only pay for it later in the race, only a fool doesn’t learn from their mistakes!
Seathwaite came and went quickly, a water refill and quick biccy before pushing on to Boot. It was a beautiful evening, a bit hot for me but better than it being rainy. As I ran through the fields past Wallowbarrow I kept my eyes peeled for peregrine falcons on the crags, I had watched them there as a kid so it’s always a bit magical passing through each year! I ran a little of the leg with Tim who I knew from doing the Arc and Jodie who I knew from crewing the Plague, the time passed quickly and thankfully the dry ground meant that the midge fest of the previous year didn’t happen! I was super happy to see loads of heath spotted orchids in bloom here and a few narthecium scattered around, it’s the pretty flowers that keep me going!!!
I was really excited to leave Boot, as I always enjoy the leg from there to Wasdale and as it was a clearer night than the previous year I was optimistic of great views too! The section is beautiful, surrounded by amphitheatre of giant fells – including Illgill head and Whin Rigg which had bested me during Wasdale Horseshoe fell race a couple of weekends previously (injuries nil, pride, dented!). The tarn was really low, I’ve had wet feet both times crossing it previously and often grumbled about the boggy ground to myself but on Friday it was bone dry in all of the usual problem places. It was also really still, not a breath of wind, and when I stood still for a moment it was just blissfully silent. I got talking to an ecologist (sorry, I didn’t get your name!) for a short stretch, what better way to pass time than chatting about peat and bats?! When the slightly threatening clouds finally delivered on their threat it was mercifully brief and my windproof sufficed to keep it off! Jogging up the road to Wasdale I was pretty happy with how I felt and in the dark it had got marginally (probably by about 2 degrees) cooler which helped a little!
At Wasdale I met Sharon and since moving up North I had only seen her briefly when I went to give her cheer during the Spine at Hawes, so it was good to catch up and chat on Blacksail Pass. False summits hey? I was thinking that the little broken gate which marks the top of Blacksail was just metres away until, to my dismay, I saw the line of head torches way above us. Damn. A little voice in my head gave me a Kill Bill moment; “you didn’t think it was going to be that easy did you?”, “yeah, for a moment there, I almost did”. Still it was clear, and the view of the headtorches from there was so cool – going into and out of Wasdale from both sides of the valley! The only thing I don’t like about this leg is that it’s in the dark and so you miss the views down the River Liza into Wild Ennerdale (if you want to see rewilding in action, Ennerdale is THE place to go in England!). We trundled along the path past the youth hostel and onwards to Scarth Gap, here I managed to not choose the crappy right hand trod this year and it was pretty plain sailing into Buttermere. I grabbed a cup of soup, some flat coke and water refill and then headed out alone to tackle Sail Pass…..
Headtorches light up Wasdale at night (I finally worked out where it was when I looked back this year ascending Black Sail!) – credit No Limits Photography 2017
Sail pass is one heck of a slog. The descent is an absolute knee knacker. That said, for some reason I really like it, the bracken always smells lovely and there are becks that you can dip your head in to cool off on the push to the top, what more could you ask for? Arriving into Braithwaite I managed the usual screw up of left or right path and chose the left path, fortunately both are about the same distance and end up in roughly the same place, but I am sure the right path is the, erm, right path. The best thing about Braithwaite checkpoint apart from the lovely volunteers? A proper loo, with a sink and hand dryer, bliss. I washed my face and it felt wonderful. I didn’t stay for too long, keen as I was to cover as many miles as I could in case the heat got up again.
Between Braithwaite and Blencathra I started to feel rather crampy in my stomach, I had struggled with hydration due to heat, and although I had tried to drink more water at Braithwaite it didn’t seem to have worked to replace what I had lost. Annoyingly this meant I was struggling to run, even though my legs felt great, because every time I started to run the bouncing motion made me want to be sick, and I was worried about losing more fluids if I was, catch 22. It settled briefly when I reached the other side of Glenderaterra – my absolute favourite bit of the course – and I managed a fairly convincing run into Blencathra…..
Are you ready to rock? Hell. Yes. Is there anything better than running your favourite section of a race and then rolling in to a checkpoint to find people dressed as Kiss at 6am in the morning. The answer, obviously, is ‘no’. Unfortunately the slightly sick feeling was back when I looked at the food so I grabbed some peanuts, banana and some squash and headed back out to tackle…… the coach road.
The coach road seems to strike dread into most LL100 competitors, although I am not too sure why usually, it’s a bit lumpy – although this year extensive repair work had filled in the erosion so that made it easier to chart a course along it – and seems to go on a bit. On the flip side, it’s got pretty nice views and it’s ok underfoot compared to other paths. This year however…… oh my god, the rain came in, there’s no shelter and the 6km it said in the road book seemed like the entire 105 miles, the plantation remained stubbornly far away and that puking feeling just wouldn’t go away. So count me in for some coach road hate for 2018. I was so relieved to finally arrive at the checkpoint (I think the guy in front of me was too as I heard him let out an exclamation of joy as he rounded the corner before it!). I managed to drink three cups of absolute amazing minestrone soup. I drank a good bit of water and some squash, refilled and headed out into the rain (which by this point was really quite heavy, but I figured it was only 10 miles to Dalemain and my drop bag so best crack on!!!). Spirits were lifted earlier in the leg by the sight of some Common cow wheat and devil’s bit scabious in the verge – the runner who wasn’t too far behind probably wondered why on earth I was looking at the grass!
Once I was off the road and through the village of Dockray I actually really enjoyed the section along the Ullswater way, a good indication that I was in a pretty happy state of mind I think! I ran on my own for the entire section, climbing steadily and running along the beautiful rolling woodland paths where the wet pine smells filled the morning air, the lake was calm and as always, stunning, Ullswater is an absolute gem! I hit the fields, chatting merrily to the cows who seemed utterly indifferent to my presence. Once on the road I decided I would have a bit of music to take the edge off, and I also promised myself I would play the run a tree walk a tree game that has become a race tradition for me since I ran with Giles and Andrew in 2016 and then repeated it in 2017 with Nick and Ruth. By the time I reached Dalemain I had got to Lose Yourself and was charging down the hill towards the checkpoint……
“You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow” – Eminem
I saw my parents did a bit of an air fist pump, felt like a total hero – to all the assembled crowds at Dalemain, your cheers are amazing 🙂 – and then quickly set about getting myself changed and out towards Howtown.
I’d come into Dalemain so fast that Duncan had got stuck behind a coach load of 50 runners and couldn’t make it in time so he met me in Pooley Bridge which was actually really nice as we walked and talked for a bit in the lovely late morning sunshine. We trotted up the hill together and at the track he gave me a hug and sent me on my to Howtown, I was really pleased to have got quite a way down the track before the first super speedy 50’s came past, and I did say to one of them “Can we swap legs please?”.
Howtown (what happened to Howdy Town though 😦 , I missed the outfits and cowboy banter?) came and went relatively quickly but joy of joy I managed to procure some full fat coke there – the first time I had seen any in the checkpoints!
I set out up towards the infamous Fusedale climb, which this year wasn’t a total marsh but didn’t bring razor sharp horizontal rain and gusts strong enough to blow me sideways. I also saw Lucia who was running in a ladies pair team with her friend Avril, it was awesome to have massive hugs from them both and it gave me a real lift as I was feeling a bit tired overall. I ran much of this section with a lovely guy called Charles who had 5 finishes to his name and it was nice to have a bit of company to grouse a bit about the weather and just generally share the journey with! It was on this section after getting quite fed up of getting wet and cold and then seeing lightning strike(!) that I decided to waterproof up fully. And of course, the sun came out, so yeah, then I am wearing shades and waterproofs, it’s a strong look.
With the heat being so intense the previous few weeks the drowned village of Mardale Green was once more visible and people were walking around it on the dry lakebed, which was pretty mind blowing given that it’s normally completely submerged by the reservoir waters.
Arriving at Mardale Head there was a bit of a queue for food and I got pretty twitchy, just wanting to get on and out, I did think about sacking off the soup and crisps but thought better of it and stuck it out….
Gatesgarth, on a good training I’ve climbed it in about 25 mins, LL100 is not a good training day though. It’s not the worst climb on the course, but there is always something pretty horrid about reaching that first plateau and seeing that actually there is still quite a lot more hill to go, it never fails to hurt a little! As the saying goes though, ‘it’s a hill, get over it’, so I pushed on steadily and hit the descent taking care not to catch my toes on any rocks that might send me hurtling downhill face first. I didn’t really pay an awful lot of attention to the valley of Longsleddale on this occasion, which is a shame as it’s super pretty and I enjoy running through there normally, but I was just so tired at that point. I took a caffeine tablet in the hope that it would perk me up and then made the push uphill on the byway to Kentmere, there were lots of 50 mile runners around and it was good chatting to a few of them on the way to the village. I made the joke as we got to the stone stiles that if they thought I was looking good, they’d only need to wait until I started trying to get over the wall! It was at Kentmere I made a pretty bad decision (I only put this together writing this out now and had a lightbulb moment!) I ate some pasta and sauce. Simple things. I had a chat to Claire whose boyfriend Dan I have toed the line with a number of times and was sorry to hear that he’d had a rough ride and had to throw in at Dalemain, 2019 awaits mate!!!!
I left Kentmere feeling really tired still, neither a drink of coke nor the caffeine tablet really making much difference, I wasn’t worried, I tend to find the fatigue comes and goes on the second day. So now it was the climb up Garburn pass, this always seems daunting but it’s actually quite short and sharp after all that have gone before it, sure enough the top came quickly. I decided that as there was no-one else around I would go for a quick pee only to my horror to see two other runners coming up the hill, so I had to hop up and carry on, desperately trying to put some distance between myself and them, all I can say is thank goodness for the multitude of drystone walls in the Lakes. Sorry chaps, you lot have it easy!!! I got talking to another 50 mile runner on the down hill and we kept each other going until she pressed on to Ambleside ahead of me, keen to get in under the 16 hour mark. It was along this section that I met David, a 50 mile runner with a good deal of local knowledge who seemed completely un-phased scampering over the rocks through the woods on the way down to Ambleside, so we stuck together and chatted about previous races and sweeping experiences.
By the time I reached Ambleside I was in reasonable spirits, but felt somewhat dehydrated and nauseous. I hadn’t felt like this since Blencathra so I was pretty peeved at this point that in spite of my still happy legs I was now suffering with stomach issues again.
The restorative power of soup……… Oh my god. I am going to be sick.
Next thing I know and my head is over a toilet.
Ultrarunning right?
Marshall: “Are you going to continue?”
Me: “No doubt.”
Good to go? No food, slightly sick feeling, still a bit dehydrated. Let’s lock and load. David and I hit the park, and as we got walking up the big old hill towards Loughrigg and over into Langdale we got chatting about movies; cue spending the next two hours randomly shouting things like, “Got a randy bull up there, give me one int’ knee” or “We are multi-millionaires, and we are going to buy this place and install a juke box”.
Irreverent ultrarunners, the best kind 😉
In spite of the naff stomach the next few miles ticked along fairly quickly, we walked at a decent clip and before long I was managing to shove a bit of soup in at the excellent Chapel Stile checkpoint, it was quieter in the checkpoint than in past races, I think everyone had been a bit dampened by the weather. Watching checkpoint manager ‘De La Napsack’ trying to wake sleeping runners was amusing though; if I ever got on one of those couches there’s no way I would leave!!
The paths at least were relatively dry and even the normally sodden section around Blea Moss was tolerable. To the kind gentleman who put little blue flags across this section to guide weary runners towards that dibber light, you may never read this, but you are beloved by many (except when you tell us there’s a storm incoming 😉 )! The section from the bottom of Wrynose into Tilberthwaite was to be honest a miserable slog, every time I could have sworn it was the last climb it carried on up again, and again, and again. Still, no alarmingly close to my face highland cows this year, that was a relief.
David and I agreed that we’d stop only briefly at Tilberthwaite before the last push. As we set off for the steps, a young fox peeked out of the foliage at us before darting up into the bracken, it looked damp, I feel you! The steps are never as bad as you think but the final descent takes every last bit of effort you have, technical and running on empty it seems like the flat of the road will never come. And then suddenly it does, and for the first time I ran into Coniston, my sister Donna, Bernie and Duncan all waiting for me. I hugged David and we had our finishers picture taken together. An epic journey over once more.
So, that’s a long story, and as I have been writing it I thought about a question I was asked multiple times on race day and have been on days prior to it; “why keep doing it?”. So, as succinctly as possible here’s my pitch for why I love Lakeland 100, I feel at home there, I love the uplands in general, I spend all week working on upland peat restoration in my job as conservationist and I never get tired of these landscapes. I love the smell of t he bracken and the pine, I love the verges filled with wildflowers and the unusual grasses that I spot. I keep an eye out for birds of prey in the morning skies and I am excited when I hear the sound of Aira Force thundering over the rocks on the Ullswater way. I’ve been out up Fusedale on my own and seen a herd of red deer, or up Sail Pass and spotted a fox at night and I remember these moments during the race. I always love arriving into Glenderraterra and seeing the sunrise over Derwentwater, and I always run up the hill on the other side of the valley fueled by the joy of it. Every year I see old friends and seem to make new ones, it’s nourishment for the soul to feel we are all part of the same shared journey.
Not all my memories are good ones though, in 2015 during the 50 my mother collapsed at Ambleside as a result of a brain hemorrhage, not knowing what had happened my dad urged me to continue and wait for news, she spent weeks in intensive care but made a staggering recovery, and in good memories she has been there every year since to support me, so if she can recover from that, I can manage 105 miles and a couple of days awake.
So what I am saying is, don’t focus on the aches and pains, they pass, don’t focus on the finish line, it will take longer to come than you can bare. Focus instead on the journey; name the flowers, smile at the stars, run your hands over the rushes, smell the bracken on the damp morning air and most importantly remember what a privilege it is to spend a fraction of time in these landscapes.
I always know it will be hard, but I never doubt I will finish, and I will always cry tears of joy when I do.
“We could be heroes, just for one day”.
I walked normally to Sainsbury’s the next day which was novel, no pains, nothing, and then I just stood there in the frozen food aisle, momentarily overwhelmed by normality…….
Jess the Running Lynx 