The Belvior Challenge

Nice Belvoir, shame about the mud. 

Another local race but not just for local people as the Belvoir Challenge draws in people from all over the country it really must be the cake. Bit of a Grumpy one this would have been even more so without the world class cake!

So another nice relaxed start time and the treat of not driving I could get used to this. Richard arrived and we were soon on our way to collect Gary and head in to the Vale of Belvoir via some Sat Nav Detours. Registration was taken care of swiftly while and they headed back to the car while I sorted out who I was swapping with as Rich had managed to register twice (its his age you know) and I was borrowing that one. But is its Dick Allan or Tony Redfern? Finally sorted I head back to the car to find no one there…. Mild Panic as it’s about 10 mins to go and all kit is in the car. Finally reunited we get sorted and to the start with a minute to spare, but the start is delayed for 10 mins time for a bit of jumping around and a plonker to batter everyone with the trekking poles he has stowed horizontally across his bag, more of this twit later. Finally the scrum is released and it’s a case of picking our way through the massed walkers this being a challenge walk with runners allowed. Finally after about half a mile the field starts to spread out a little just in time to meet the mud. The Vale of Belvoir is largely on clay and unsurprisingly it’s a tad wet in February. We hit a lane that’s ankle deep in thick sticky mud, any attempt at picking our way round this gloop was quickly abandoned the left edge had a drainage ditch the right a hawthorn hedge. Finally we came out on to more open but still soggy fields with each field boundary crossing was harbouring a large sludgy lagoon to be negotiated. This ended with a short road stretch which allowed some running but now with feet encased in sticky mud. I was now beginning to understand Richards’s aversion to off road running this being his main experience of it. Crossing some fields we came to a major choke point in the route as we crossed an old Holloway with a stile on the exit and suffered some ridiculous behaviour with runners trying to push up the line our friend with the trekking poles among them not satisfied with this he then attempts to climb the barbed wire fence, fortunately karma did intervene impaling his trainer on the way over. We’re not setting records here just wait.

Finally over a second less congested stile was negotiated but not with out some similar behaviour form our now extricated friend with the poles. Up the hill we went and a cross to check point 1 offering water. We continue on heading for check point one proper running at this point was feeling quite free and easy and we seemed to be making a good progress after a sort road section we encountered a field with a slightly miffed horse who was less than impressed with us lot piling through his field, but all seemed to be making it through with out incident. We continued on very soggy fields to find a ladder had to be negotiated to cross a disused railway and then steady running on the way down to Eaton and Checkpoint 2 7.5 mile and now for Cake.

Now there are checkpoints and there are CHECKPOINTS! And this was defiantly a CHECKPOINT! The village hall was rammed with food and it was quite a buffet on offer including a huge lump of Stilton and some pretty full on cream teas! This was truly awesome but I was still in racing mode so I took a hand full of ham sandwiches and Scone with clotted cream well it would have been rude not to, and on we trot it was at the next village of Branston the routes here split the 15’ers went left we 26’ers went right which was rather telling as very few went right. Some where along this next stage the running started to become rather hard work the soft ground and mud taking its toll and having pushed probably a bit too hard keeping up with those doing the 15 there was a feeling that the wheel nuts where not going to be done up tight enough. On the section after Croxton Kerrial there was a pleasant down hill but it ended crossing a field that was just sludge which was building up platform soles on my trainers and starting to pull them off. It was about here that the sense of humour failed me I really had had enough of the mud and there was becoming more walking than running. Scraping the mud off my feet on a fence post was in order before we climbed another small hill.

To think I had been quite bullish about this race, and in being so had forgot a number of important things that I should have taken in to account like its February, its been wet, you have run a marathon and a fast half marathon already this month, This is another Marathon and you’ve felt knackered on the bike all week…………… Deeeeerrrrrr you’re not going to have a good race if you’ve felt knackered all week and this race will take me to 85 miles for the week…….. Obvious really with the benefit of Hindsight. At the time this definitely felt like a step backwards the reality was I was getting cocky I run Ultra marathons don’t you know.  I also came down with a cold two days later which wont have helped either and so it’s a good reality check.

The Check point at Croxton came at the end of a long jog and was another fine array of cakes and sandwiches which helped, but also stated that we were not yet half way…… This was going to be a long day with water bottles refilled we trudged off down through the village to be caught up by an interesting chap who announced himself as a member of the 100 marathon  club and then the LDWA and then told us his name oh and that he was doing another 26 miler tomorrow. He then gave an encyclopaedic account for the route a head and that he’d done about 30 back to back marathons, having done a few ultras and marathons I often wonder if I’m abit too forth coming with my CV but I do like to think I keep my powder dry in these conversations. So we just swapped LDWA event stories before another runner took him off our hands.  We continue on round Denton res and the emergency jelly babies are broken out but don’t seem to have the desired effect. We walk on picking up another section of disused railway we really should have been jogging this and Gary provides some subtle prodding and we jog on before turning off to climb up to the Viking Way and descending to Wolsthope by Belvoir to think that I have a the Viking Way Ultra on my Ultra to Do List (I wont kid you that will be anytime too soon) feels a bit comical at this point as I am about ready to throw my trainers in to the next bin and never wear them again!

We now have a stunning view of Belvoir Castle picking up an estate road we walk up towards it past a house with a fine collection of early 90’s VW hot hatches and turning left past the kennels for the Belvoir hunt we try to avoid getting run over the wind at this point drowning out the engines of cars on the narrow road it’s a long straight that finally brings a land mark Belvoir cricket club. Superb setting for cricket pitch, which I have had the pleasure of playing on. I say pleasure shame the home team were not the most affable, if there is one thing worse than a sore loser it’s a sore winner. This is Knipton and location for Check Point 5, bottles refilled and more excellent cake washed down with a nice cup of tea or two. The check point was a village hall which was rather unusual and Gary being a Semi-Pro historian was busy photographing some WW1 rolls of honour that were hung in the hall until he managed to prise me away from the cake to continue running and the next section there was a concerted effort to run as much as possible down through the village and back to join the walkers on the 15 mile route as it made its way up on to the Belvior Escarpment. Where his Grace the Duke has been working on improving the view by removing the stands of pine trees. We continue past some sections of the ridge that I remember for the Viking challenge last year and it was pleasant if slow running that took us along the ridge on relatively solid ground before the final check point more tea and cake and a chat with the marshal with the tea. He asked how it was going I said the wheels had come off some what and he said I wasn’t alone. Grabbing a hand full of mars bar chunks there is more mud before we were shaken and battered by the decent in to Stathern on a very dilapidated lane and in to a strong head wind which would accompany us on the last 3 km which would turn out to be a very long way the first part was through sodden fields and involved crossing a rather large stream which our rather immodest friend from Check point 2 has earlier suggested was Thigh deep turned out to be much shallower but still an impressive scale this was followed by a k of wallowing along a narrow track with the choice of having you eyes gouged out by the triffid like Hawthorn hedges or fighting with ankle deep mud finally after what fell like forever I recognised a banner that marked the end of the mud and I actually exclaimed out loud! it was back on to the road for the last 500 meters Gray and pulled ahead as I fought to get my legs moving. Negotiating the bizarrely un marshalled main road I managed to cross after a being congratulated by a group of cyclists and forced a run towards the finish the small hill was a challenge and found Gary waiting for me I waved him to go on but we ran the final 50 meter together finished Thank F#&k for that.

Incredibly the race we won in around 3:15 presumably by a man in a hovercraft Rich managed a respectable 4:50 and myself and Gary just nosed under the 6 hour mark at 5:57.

We were found by Richard and had a brew at the finish before picking up the commemorative T-Shirt which were in comedy sizes it was time to head home.

So a rather grumpy account of a tough race the moral of this story is that 26 miles is a long way and deserves respect. This was as tough as the Trail 26 at Grizedale and that had nearly 1000meters of accent more than this.

Sleaford Half Marathon - A Short, Fast, Flat, Tarmac Thingy

So this weekend’s race was the Sleaford Half Marathon, mmm Short, tramac….

Being relatively local there was a civilised alarm time for the drive from Nottingham to RAF Cranwell. Drive duly done it was the usual process of registration on the bases sports field and back to the car to fix numbers and wait for my running buddies Gary, Richard and Ian. They had been giving me a bit “encouragement” to do a road race. So I had entered this race without telling them and planed to appear out of the blue to add to the affect the pervious night I’d claimed I would need to be very drunk to enter a road race, childish but it amused me. So there was some surprise and much banter when I appeared and announcing my supposed stinking hangover.

Time to head for the start.  Lots of people doing laps of the football pitch including me this time the only bit of the day I’d be keeping up with Rich and listen to the wise words of our running Jedi.

Leaving Rich with the racing snakes we line up roughly in the middle of the field and suddenly realise that the big clock on next to the start line is ticking, no horn, no 3,2,1,0.5 etc. I faff with the phone, Strava on and struggle to get it in my bum bag (I tell you this as its one of the more interesting bits of the race.) and worry I have switched it off in the process. I’m eased in to my road running career as we start across the playing fields keen not to start off two quick we take it steady the friendly voice of Miss Strava speaks to me as we arrive at the first road section which soothes my inner data analyst. We head off the base and on to country lanes. I have been told that this is a hilly course it has 260ft of climbing, the first “hill” is well an undulation I feel a little Crocodile Dundee moment “That’s Not a Hill” I did do a 10k two weeks a go with three times the climbing don’t you know. And then we’re back on the flat. There is then another section of off road along a very muddy farm track and I am longing for my Speedcross but instead join the whole field mincing around in my road shoes once back on hard pack I seam to lose Gary although it transpires he was never more than 5 to 10 meters behind me till about 7 miles We Pass two vintage biplanes one of which was fully tooled up with Lewis guns which was a highlight of the race. As we hit tarmac proper again and it’s between high hedges which sets the tone for the next 9 miles punctuated only by some very enthusiastic marshals. Water stop 1 arrives, I down a gel and grab a water and feel a childish joy being able to chuck the bottle away like I have seen them do on the telly although with a pang of guilt at chucking a near full 500ml bottle of water. At 7 miles we hit a long gradual incline and I continue happily picking off the runner in front making my way up the field maintaining 8:10ish min/miles. Past water stop 2, more gel and more bottle throwing, more guilt and a steeper bit of a hill finally finishes the slope off. We turn in to the last 4 miles. I have to say I was getting a bit bored at this point. A bit of acceleration for a couple of miles on a slight down through the last water station. At about 11 miles the legs feel a bit wobbly and I am relived to discover we don’t have to go back along the farm track again as we turn back on to the lollipop stick for the reverse down and up which is now straight in to the freshening wind, the up was a bit of a challenge but I keep it going and its back though the village and on to the Sport fields fighting the wind all the way I manage to pick off a few more people on this last stretch  finally the 400 meter marker, then the 200 meter marker and finish!.

Job done 1:49:40 is my chip time which is 8:15 min/miles and 275^th place. I would have been happy with anything sub 2 hour but sub 1:50 was better than hoped and given I ran the race with Negative 5k splits I was quite chuffed!

Chip removed, Race T Shirt and Goodie Bag Collected which was a Sainsbury’s Bag with a Sainsbury’s Biscuit Bar in which was odd given the race was sponsored by the Co-Op. Quick change and I go and find Rich who finished in 87^th place in 1:33:57 and he is genuinely impressed with my finish time, I think he may have been understandably a touch sceptical at my prediction of a 1:50 something. We head back to the finish to find Gary who came home in 1:56:31 366^th and Ian who we managed to loose for 15 minutes finished in 2:25:35 550^th in spite of a 3 year long bout of Man flu.  A quick brew, well done all round and we head off. Short, Flat, Fast, Tarmac Thingy Done.

All in all it was OK and a good test of fitness.  I may do another, but it’s not a trail race which is where my heart lies. Now it was time for Sunday Lunch.

My Name is Richard Martin and I am more an Trail Runner than a Short, Flat, Fast, Tarmac Thingy runner.

Grizedale Night Runner and Trail 26 - There is a fine line between stupidity and madness

So the conversation may have gone something like this when I came up with this last weekends running trip to the lakes.

“Do you fancy doing the Trail 26 at Grizedale forest?”

“Yes that would be a good one to aim for.”

“There’s a Night Runner 10K the night before are you up for that as well?”

“No, a marathon is quite enough for one weekend. Are you doing it?”

“Yes sounds like fun I’ll just have steady plod round for the experience and there’s a free t-shirt!”

So it is off to the lakes for a run round Grizedale forest. For a race weekend this one had a refreshingly late start. Rather than the more usual predawn starts that have been more common for trips to races or up to the lakes. A night race meant a mid morning pickup for the other protagonist in the above conversation Gary, running buddy for the weekend. And we we’re away up to Ambleside. A pleasant afternoon was spent bimbling around the gear shops and coffee houses, before checking in to the Youth Hostel and getting sorted for the evening’s entertainment. Gary, having forgone the night running also unsurprisingly chose to forgo the standing freezing in a field waiting for me so he headed for the bright lights of Ambleside. While I headed off to Grizedale against the most amazing sunset.

Petzl Night Runner - The Valentines Day Massacre

The drive to Grizedale was along suitably windy Lake District lanes especially after Hawkshead and when the “little” hills of Grizedale forest came in to view they had quite an intimidating appearance. In the gathering dusk they didn’t look that little and also rather steep gulp. Having found the car park and parked up, there were the usual formalities of registration and coffee drinking to be attended to before gearing up and doing my warm up routine of sitting in the car. Someone more keen than me was doing laps of the car park. Why is there always someone running laps of the car park? With an air temperature of Zero at this point I was happy sitting in the car and with that in mind it was then left until 15 minutes to go before heading to start line.

There was the option of Fancy dress for the Night Runner and I had a quick chat with a lady dressed a fairy, she was doing the Night runner and supporting a friend in the Trail 26 next day. She though I was mad when I said I was doing that as well. We were all called in to the starting pen beneath Marc Laithwaite’s Night Runner/Trail26/L50 Inflatable arch, and the inaudible race briefing followed there are some cheers, something about Ice, probably the usual other stuff and is that a count down? Then we started running and stopped at gate, and again as we negotiated the Ice Patch on the first hill. I’d started right form the back so as the field climbed the first hill I started to pick my way up the field finding my natural spot and was constantly overtaking people for the first 2 miles. Looking at the results that probably means I over took about 150 people which is meaningless but feels good anyway. By 3 miles I found myself in a bit of a gap I was running well and felt really strong on the hills the run to work with a Bag must be starting to pay off. I thought of our Oxfam Trail Trekker team that used to go up hill faster than we walked the flats. On this Stretch up to about 5 miles I was largely on my own, running well and enjoying the view of the night sky the forest being free of light this was particularly spectacular. Some technical-ish descending with Ice for extra interest brought me to the last mile marker and some runners a head into sight and here it happened. I hadn’t been going quite as steadily as perhaps I should have been so far but I hadn’t been too quick. But as a runner goes past me that competitive streak kicks in and I go with them…… The last mile was largely down hill and I let go, buoyed by a big group of spectators ringing cow bells I gave it the beans down the hill. I actually ran a mile PB of 6:45 taking about 25 seconds off my flat mile best, which is of course just what you should do the day before running a full trail marathon. The Hairpin bend was a bit of a shock but not quite as much as the cattle grid that followed it, having negotiated both powering on over the a little crest it was back on to the hill we started up. I managing to pick off another few runners and avoid the Ice rink. Mr Sports Sunday was snapping away on the last turn and it was back under the arch to finish in 56:07 in 99th place. Medal collected and timing chip removed it was time for some confusion over the parking meters which were not accepting the free parking code and a mad dash back to get food before the pub stopped serving. This was duly achieved and fine Cumberland Sausage and Mash and a Pint helped with post race recovery. All that was needed now was to sort out kit for tomorrow and have a good night’s sleep.

Oh dear. 

Trail 26 and a bit – Grizedale forest

If you are ever given room 235 in Ambleside YHA you need to put an out of order sign on the door of the toilet outside the room. After a less than restful night which might have featured an hour’s sleep but did feature noisy plumbing and someone arguing over the price of a taxi at 3 am. The alarm went off, doesn’t really matter what time it was I was awake but it felt too early anyway. We get kit packed, sort out breakfast which included Gary producing 8 rounds of toast! This is man with an addiction or a new nutrition strategy or both. We hand in the keys and step out of the Hostel F@#k me its cold. It’s also very foggy and we pile kit in to the car sliding around on a rather hard frost. I scrape Jacks finest work from the windows and we head off in to mist which turns out to be very patchy giving some stunning view and meaning there are a couple of Kodak moments on the way over.   

Parking up, I’d pulled in next to a Brass Monkey that was crying his eyes out. The Car said -4c. We head off to do the registration thing and acquire the necessary caffeine fix. Registration done, but disaster the Café is Shut WTF! So no coffee not good after a night without sleep and it was in our caffeine deprived state we manage to swap our entry packs on the way back. We try to sort out what to wear. My head saying you ran the Frostbite 30 in these conditions just go with 2 Base layers that’s all you need, my heart going, why didn’t you bring a sleeping bag to run in? I settled on 2 Base layers and the Valentine’s Day Massacre t-shirt because I had to being I think 1 of only 3 people stupid enough to do both. During this we noticed some strange goings with the group in the next car; you’ll perhaps remember my conversation with a fairy yesterday. Well, next to us there was a Clown, a Nun and Wally. Who looked genuinely unimpressed when enquiring what we’d come as? We said were impersonating runners and didn’t you know the fancy dress was last night? Credit to them though, they went through with it. We also bumped in to Andrew Lowe and friends who’d we’d met at the Rivington event last year and who ran in with Gary after his meeting with the wall. They came over to see if I was going to abandon him again I said he was going in the ditch at the first sign of trouble.  To continue the reunion theme I also bumped in to Ben Richards who I met in the poring rain at the Hardmoors Goathland Marathon, still doing well at finding the most un-desert like conditions to train in for his upcoming Marathon des Sables in April.

And so to the start but not before I realise I’m wearing 202 and Gary 121 now, Martin comes before Wood in the alphabet…….. We check. We have the numbers the wrong way round oopps, they are swiftly swapped and ready for the start. There is another inaudible briefing.  We start off from the back and I chat with Ben as we walk up the hill I’d blasted up last night. Marathons requiring some what of a different strategy especially with a quick 10k in my legs and no sleep…… This is a course of 2 lollipops and lollipop 1 follows the trails to the wilder Coniston side of Grizedale. The tracks wind round and up and down and back up through dense plantations and we start to break out of the fog and in to some welcome sun, which really does feel like its warming my bones. After 3 miles we clear the trees on to some open fell and Its here that the front runners for the Trail 13 start to overtake us. We work out that with our head start they’ll have been knocking out 5 or 6 minute miles to catch us here… We’re weaving along some tracks that has some impressively iced puddles where the ice is broken it reveals 2 inches of ice just to confirm it’s a bit parky and has been for a while.  For the next few miles the racing snakes on the 13 are going past which makes for some interesting race OCD checking to make sure it’s an orange trail 13 number going past not a green trail 26 one. This part of the course is directly above Coniston Water which is shrouded in mist but the view is still stunning across to The Old Man of Coniston with Just his head above the clouds. All too soon we’re back in to the woods, where I am attacked by a tree as a Halfer over takes me just as the track narrows. We’re starting to think we must be getting close to check point 1 advertised at 5 miles but that comes and goes the check point it arrives at 8 miles beginning the theme of a few extra miles which will continue through the day. We’re logged in and then let loose on the cocktails sausages and Jelly Babies, bottles are refilled and we head on. Mr Sport Sunday is snapping away shortly after the checkpoint (I looked better by Night) and there is a very interesting photo of Gary practicing for The GB Gurning team J after what feels like a long time we finally seem to be closing in on half way and I recognize the course from last nights run. Just before the big decent we find a chap who appears to be nailed to the spot we check he’s OK and he says No. He’s stuck to the spot with Cramp but declines rescue. We hit the big down treating it with less gay abandon than last night and in the light the Hairpin and the Cattle grid cause us no surprise. Down to the Halfway check point/Finishing area, where a Marshall directs us to more food and drinks. There is only one Marshall with the checkpoint who watches me struggle with 2 bottles and Nuun Tablets and a cup to fill the bottles out of the water barrel. They were standing between the barrel and a table so I have no where to put anything not that I would have noticed at the time brain was not really in gear. Now Marshalls are bigger hero’s than us runner on these events and you MUST be nice to them and I was, I kept it to myself but this really annoyed me at the time. I was having a bit of a low point and feeling rather tetchy with lack of sleep and not really enjoying myself and  now I’ve got wet gloves, water in my remaining nuun tables and I am getting cold which doesn’t help. I feel very close to a sense of humor failure which all sounds a bit petty but that’s how these lows hit you and turn you in to a petulant 5 year old. What I need about now was a metaphorical hug, to be told I am a Legend and sent off with a “go get ‘em tiger” but I didn’t get it.  Grumpily I stuff the lid on the remaining tablets which are fizzing away and stow the now useless tube As I stuff my bottles back in to my vest there is an almightily pop as the lid of my nuun tube is fired across the field by the buildup of gas in the tube, at least the Marshall fetched that back. We also noted that the GPS’s read 14 miles…… Hummm will the second half be shorter or is Marc Laithwaite in league with Jon Steele……

We start out on lollipop 2 to the Windermere side of Grizedale. The route goes up a climb and we march in to the forest again. Once up the biggest bit of climb its back on the roller coaster of tracks until we head off the main tracks and pick up a really technical decent, which is a popular mountain bike run we crawl down over greasy broken rocks being passed by a couple of bikers till we find John Bamber track side taking photos. When I grow up I want a beard like John’s. Reaching a road I was still cold from the brief stop at the halfway checkpoint and the temperature is plummeting as we drop to the side of Esthwaite Water, so it was finally on with an extra layer and a second buff. Feeling warmer we followed the undulating road section along the lake chatting to a couple of lads who are doing this as their first marathon in training for next years Lakeland 50.  Bit of a baptism of fire this one!  We climbed away form the lake trough Near Sawery past Beatrix Potter’s old home and on to some more typical Lakeland fell country for the first time on this loop, before heading in to more woods for a long winding decent down to Windermere.  This must have been the longest section of continuous running for us in the whole race. The next section wound round the lake until checkpoint 3 at Thompsons Holme “20” miles, this again was a roller coaster and the continual stop start nature of the running was really taking its toll on me and each transition to running getting more painful. We were adopting a slightly conservative approach due to Gary not wanting to hit the wall as he did in Rivington and I might have done a bit of a run yesterday which was perhaps counting against or did it keep us fresher for the bits we were running? Who knows? Gary was getting a little bit twitchy as we approached the distance where he had previously met with the bricks and mortar, but the toast of all nutrition plan seem to be paying dividends and he was doing OK. We we’re warned of the imminent arrival of checkpoint 3 by a walker with those famous words its only over the next hill. It wasn’t. It was over the one after that. But it was worth the wait the checkpoint was fab and thanks to the lovely Marshalls who sorted us out filling bottles, plying us with rola cola, cake and generally checking we were all OK, cheap Swiss roll has never tasted so go. There was then a sod of a climb up a greasy footpath to gain the ridge over to Far Sawery and a very nice looking pub. I was tempted. We cross an area of farm land and a couple of road stretches  playing leap frog with runner who would eventually over take us on the next long climb. Which started through the woods and then arrived on a road section at  the same time a really friendly group of mountain bikers were going past and shared the climb up with them going back off road the climb continued on a bridle path which brought us to a hugely frustrating part of the course on completely anonymous forest tracks with no idea of how far was left to go finally after an indeterminate amount of up and down we finally found a bit of course we recognised as the stick to our lollipop and we made our way down the technical decent to the finish  finally home in 06:01:22 Gary’s chip was first across the line attached to my foot. Medals received chips removed and a General consensus says we completed 28 and bit miles so safely an ultra and all that up and down in little bits totalled about 1100m which is not insignificant. I do like a bit of extra value for money all though a few people were heard moaning and I did spend the last few miles willing this to be the last turn but you have to enjoy the extra.

Time to get changed and a brew before the drive back. Having failed on the brew front as the café was again shut we headed back to the car checking if the car park code was working with a Marshall it wasn’t. We bump in to Andrew again and swapped stories of the day and chat about whether to do the Howgills Marathon in May I think so. And it was time to head home via a coffee or 3 and perhaps the most disappointing bit of the weekend arriving at the Little Chef 20 mins after it had closed… Bugger.  

All it all it was a good weekend. The night runner was great fun and blasting round trails in the dark under the stars was really enjoyable we’ll gloss over the lack of sleep.  As for the trail 26 there was naturally a big sense of achievement and relief at the finish, but I have to be honest I didn’t really enjoy this one as a run this wasn’t helped by the lack of sleep and coffee. The amount of anonymous forest tracks made it more of a run for running’s sake rather than feeling like your on a journey which is what I enjoy most about doing these long events and the roller coaster profile made it tougher as we never managed to find any rhythm I think that this is the toughest of the runs that I have done it felt harder than the Frostbite 30 which has more climbing and was 7 miles longer.

So running a 10K and a marathon in weekend? That would be madness but running a 10k and a ultra that must make you a legend?

My name is Richard Martin I am a Mad/Legendary/Stupid/Heroic* Ultra Runner

*Delete as applicable

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Frostbite 30 - Frostbite by Name Rather Chilly by Nature

Let’s do an Ultra in December! Why not I’m a runner now I said so in my last blog…

The Alarm goes off at 5 am ……….. Why do I do this to my self? I prise my self out of bed and pull on my clothes throw the bags in to the car and scrape the frost of the window. Feeling groggy I point the car in the Direction of the A1 and off we head. The drive up to Patley Bridge is actually a joy on a clear crisp morning with a huge full moon; it was greatly improved by a large coffee and a flapjack at the services. Heading in to Nidderdale as dawn is breaking and there are some stunning views over the frozen valley as the road winds its way through picturesque villages where pubs and business are still sporting their yellow bikes from the summers Tour De France Grande depart. The low sun twinkles off the hard frost and the new world symphony plays and a boy push is a Hovis bike up a steep hill. Ahem sorry where were we, ah yes Patley Bridge.

Having successfully found Pately Bridge and then Riverside car park I make my way to registration, Jack Frost is very much nipping at my ears.  Registration is in the Local Scout Hut and with the forms completed and number issued it was time for some monumental kit faffing, Mid Layer in other mid layer out, Extra Buff in etc. etc. number secured.  I think this may have been nerves but after 3 trips back to the car I was sorted well sort of.  I had a chance meeting with the marshal of Omni presence from the Goathland Marathon who turns out to be Rob Collier who is running this time. As I mill round the hall there are some familiar faces including Mr & Mrs Hardmoors Jon & Shirley Steele. I think Jon and the frostbite race director Rob Jarman are good friends as Jon appears to have leant Rob his stretchy tape measure, the Frostbite 30 having 11% extra free at 33.7miles well I do like good value and will create even more before the days out. Finally we are called for the race briefing unusual rules about shutting gates and violent sheep are added to the usual. And we head out for the start.

The Horn goes and we’re off! No were not, yes we are! No were not, oh we are. It’s a bit stop start as 200 runners vie for space as the route is funnelled along the narrow paths of Patley Millennium Green, and even narrower ally ways reduce us to single file before we are spat out on the Bridge. Not the most grand of starts but we are soon away, on a good track leading down the River Nidd to Glasshouses. This section has lots of old industrial looking water features all of which are covered by what looks a quite substantial layer of Ice.  Crossing the river we start up the steep side of the valley the climb up to Guise cliff and it’s a good one, the type that sorts the men from the boys and as I was keeping up with Jon Steele and Co I consider I may have graduated (we’ll gloss over the fact he’s injured). Once on the top of there are some superb views but the occasional Ice patch, narrow technical single track, over hanging branches and the odd big drop to the right keep the mind focused on the way forward, winding past the remains of the folly of Yorke’s Tower there is nearly a pile up. Were all running in close order and some one at the front goes down, they’re OK. The bloke behind me asks if it’s a broken ankle which I think is a rather odd thing to say, their trying to run it off if it is I respond.  Mr Sport Sunday appears Say Cheese I feel quick down the technical decent to a road crossing enjoying the solid ground and avoiding the Ice patches through the woods down to Shrike Farm. The next section was through some picturesque farm land and before picking up a long road climb and undulating track section over Ladies Rigg. Here the wind starts to make its presence felt and Gloves and extra Buffs are don’d before the road becomes track and descends to the old lead mines and an interesting decent picking my way over the frozen old spoil heaps and a rickety tin bridge down to the stream and up on to a track down to Spring house caravan park. The Route then takes the river back to the Start at Patley Bridge Scout Hut or Checkpoint one as it’s now known. I completed “Part1” in about 1:48ish which was quick considering I had tried to pace my self at the start and it’s safely under the 3 hour cut off. Time for a quick foot sort out as my little toe was feeling odd fortunately on removal of shoe and first sock I found its just my injinjis are not sitting right, a quick damage inspection reveals no major problems and two mins faffing I decide that my toes aren’t going back in to their little pockets so I whip that one off and replace the other sock. Not quite running not quite with one sock on and one sock off. I finally remember to clock in grab some snacks and a shot of Jagermister to warm the cockles apparently and head off up the river. You’ll notice I didn’t mention refilling my water bottles there …… I didn’t ……………. This was pretty stupid for someone who sweats like a Gordie in a spelling test. I had a bottle and a half left which I thought would be fine but I would spend quite abit of the rest of the race spitting feathers. Lesson learnt.

The lolly pop stick for the begging of “Part 2” was a along the River Nidd East towards the hamlet of Wath. Things are starting to thaw and the ground is softening up and after the climb past the Dam of Gouthwaite Res the Track has some exceedingly large lagoons of very wet mud. I started to over take a few people on this stretch. My passing more akin to lorries over taking on the motorway than a speedy F1 pass but I am creeping up the field. Grouping up with a couple of other runners some ignorant people who happen to be on mountain bikes let us pass by oh no they cycled straight at us, that was right. Without a word of greeting, apology or even acknowledgement.  Come the revolution brothers and sisters the ignorant will be first against the wall or maybe second after the spatially unaware…. Sorry where were we

Ah Bouthwaite, Having successfully avoided being mown down I arrive at Bouthwaite to find Mr Jarman himself marshalling us through and 500m down the road there is a mini checkpoint taking our numbers and offering some water. Afterwards it is over an old stone bridge and along the valley before we head on a long steady climb. I start to struggle a bit with motivation as the wind picks up again. I check my phone for my distance and find I have done 16 miles in 3:14 good pace and I will end the Day with a half marathon PB. I seam to have a bit of a low around the 15/16 mile mark in most races, but walking this long climb and munching a cliff bar seams to give me a rest enough to get some mojo back. As the route heads downwards again I muster a jog and pick off a few more of the runners ahead on the way down to How Stean Gorge, and a first meeting with a mysterious photograph (run faster!) and the post van which wins and I let past on the narrow road. Once past here we start The Climb! About 3 miles of up some of which is very steep first climbing up to Middlemoor. Which I had seen from further down the valley perched on a spur looking impossibly high up for a village with an impressive church dominating the view, the road in is almost steep enough to consider a rope! Still my steady march means I am starting to drop people as we clear the village, a Marshall gives encouragement and says its two miles to check point 2 ah water at last! Heading up In Moor Lane towards the summit of Rain Stang a group of Tossers motor crossers pass leaving me coughing on their fumes as they tear lumps out of the partially frozen track. Up and Up we go until finally the track levels off and then drops down to scars house res on a track that is fairly brutal and covered in patches of Ice and loose rocks, I catch up with a chap with a freshly bloodied knee as we hit the bottom and head in to check point 2 with a little acceleration for the Mystery photograph. I fill my bottles and take a few moments to enjoy 2 cups of hot squash I think I babble some rubbish about moral in a cup. My moral is indeed much improved the hot drink being just what the doctor ordered. The weather had been fine up to Middlemoor but had started to deteriorate since. Cloud had been coming in with some ominous looking mist further down the valley and winds starting to really pick up. The big climb before the checkpoint had been exposed to the full force and was increasing chilly. I have a quick chat with a marshal discussing the home leg it’s only 13 miles left  just a half marathon then…… I love ultra running I am almost home I only have a half marathon to run first. Yeah fine let’s go. And I do with a hand full of wine gums.

I leave just as big group of runners arrive most of who were the runners I was leap frogging with prior to Middlemoor at I am quite pleased to say it’s the last time I see most of them till the finish. I cross Scars House dam with Mr Bloody knee we dodge the postman again on the dam top road. Mr Sports Sunday appears, takes a seat in the middle of the road and suggests we have to hurdle him brave man! He snaps a ways as we jog past once over the dam we climb out of the valley on the far side I pull away from him as the route drops in and out of a deep re-entrant on a rough Landover track. I manage to reel in another couple of runners one of whom is really struggling up the steep climb. As the route climbs it hits a track that follows the edge of the high ground along Brown Ridge and becomes fully exposed to the wind which is now getting quite strong. This provides ample motivation to get a shift on I also can see some runners ahead and with the racing head also starting to kick in I am making good progress and I close in on and pass Mr Green Jacket over the course of the next km or so, and Start to chase down Mr Fluro Jacket. Just after a superbly sited Shooting Lodge the route cuts back and heads to a road crossing, there is another Mini Check Point proffering chocolates and Cheerful Marshals. A short climb after the road leads to a long steady decent on which I pass Mr Fluro with Mr Green now no where to be seen. There have been good views back along the ridge we appear to be well clear of anyone else. I open up a bit of a gap but towards the bottom I start to struggle again, but keep plodding but on the short climb out of Beck I look back to see Mr Green Jacket has reappeared and he’s shifting shortly after he passes me like I am stood still. Mr Fluro has also closed the gap and as we descend back to Bouthwaite to close the lolly pop I have just managed to hold him off, seeing him appear just as I close the numerous gates that cross the track but as I start back on the Stick the l don’t see him again! And there are 2 reasons for that! As I approach Covill Grange Farm I hear foot steps and turn back expecting to see a refreshed challenge from Mr Fluro but I am passed by Mr Orange where did he come from? I can see two more runners catching me in the gathering gloom and I muster another run along the tarmac and try to stay with Mr Orange which I manage for a bit I am still managing to stay suitably in front of Mr Fluro that he isn’t appearing in the rear view but Mr and Mrs OMM jackets have appeared out of the gloom I keep them a suitable distance behind and Mr Orange a suitable distance in front until in the Near Dark I follow the wrong fork and only realise when I see Mr Orange on the Track Below arse! Mr and Mrs OMM have followed me so we double back and plough on through the now thoroughly defrosted lagoons of mud that form the Track no one appears behind us Mr OMM is struggling feeling sick and dizzy but I can only manage to keep up at this point. As we continue we realise that were climbing a bit too much and realise that were on the wrong track Mr & Mrs OMM jackets decide just to plough on that the track will finally come out in the right place. I decide on checking the map and as I am carrying a head torch I might as well use the thing (if I had done that 15 minutes ago? ……..) Quick check of the Map and yes this track will get us back to Wath. Then in Typical French fashion the head torch goes on strike. After some negotiation it lights our way back. We rejoin the route and I have to break the news that were not there yet as Mrs OMM who thought this was the end. I point them on the right route and with lights coming down the route that competitive streak I spent 2 blogs denying I had kicks in and I start to run the final 2.5km worth of muddy fields, no one catches me and I even remember to cover my head torch when checking back to see where people are. Soon I am back to Pately, a short loop of the millennium green and finish I give my number and receive my finishers Cowbell!  I have my usual post finish Oh what am I doing moment and finally remember to turn off Strava on my phone. Shoes off and head in to the scout hut for home made soup and tea!

Strava Says 7:28:00 for 35 miles my official time is 7:26:12 pretty pleased with that all in. I’ve achieved a half marathon PB in to the bargain! 4:53:00 Won it and Last man in was 9:12:28 so I was comfortable in my mid-table mediocrity. Mr Fluro finished 2 minutes ahead of me ….. Bugger.

So all that was left to do was to stagger stiff legged back to the car sort out my kit and Freeze as is the tradition then go and find my B&B why are single rooms always on the second floor? The evening’s food certainly deserves a mention the stake & ale pie from the Royal Oak was immense! A piece of pie the size of a Hardback book was delivered with a mountain of chips and veg. So enormous was it that it defeated me despite having run 35 miles! Epic Pie!      

My name if Richard Martin I am a pie filled ultra runner

Hardmoors 26.2 Series, Goathlands Marathon

26.2ish it read at the top of my number and ish it was 27.9 actually which I see as extra value for money no?

After a rather damp day in a deserted Whitby perfecting my carb loading technique at the Magpie Café and having a go at aquaplaning on the way to Goathland I had feared the worst. But I woke to a crisp clear morning in the quite North York Moors Village of Goathland or Aidensfield or Hogsmead take your pick, for a second marathon in two weeks and I feel like a kid at Christmas for some reason.

Since my earlier races this year I have managed to put some more structured training together and I am going to have to accept that I am not quite the incompetent slow coach that I have always made out. I suddenly seam to be running 8 minute miles and even 7:20’s on my short run and I really have know idea how that happened. I am certainly not going call my self a marathon runner nor am I going to break any records but I am improving. So this is going to be the next test.

Anyhow back to Goathland. After an early breakfast at the Lovely Heatherdene B&B (Fab place, highly recommended, lovely owners, top breakfast and very helpful) I made my way down to the Village Hall for my first encounter for the Marshall of Omni Presence found here directing traffic. There is a small queue but it moves quickly and registration is completed with a quick flash of the Waterproof Jacket . A quick bit of retail therapy at the Chia Charge Stand and a Chat with Tim “The Chia Man” Taylor sees me equipped with a new Buff and some Chia Charge Flap Jacks and its off for a final sort out of numbers, shoes, stretching and Coffee provided by the little coffee van The Coffee Stop outside the hall. I like races with proper coffee and this is the best yet.

Shortly before 9 we’re called in to the Hall for the race briefing and as is traditional the 130 odd marathon runners pile in like sardines and are treated to Jon Steele’s race briefing, He is notorious for his stretchy tape measure and announces that the distance for the Marathon is 27.9miles, *Small Cheer* for the half marathon 13.2 for the Half, *Small Cheer and the odd boo* he says that is a bit short I appreciate so the 10k is 8 miles to make up for it *Huge Cheer*.  The usual suspects are then covered  don’t follow people like sheep, the course is marked but tape can move close gates look after the place, look after each other  and close gates. We all head back out for the start. Few minutes later were off and head down the road and on to an Old Railway line down to the river Esk we follow the up and down path along river with some small scrambley sections over greasy limestone past the Mallyan Spout waterfall, which is in full flow after the rain of the last few days and looks quite spectacular. At a turn marked by the Marshall of Omni Presence found this time cheerfully waving us up the Steps that take the route back up to the end of Goathland and then out on to the moors and the beginning of the mud proper as we cross the moors to Hunt House and Check Point one. A quick coke and a thanks to the marshals and its up over the top and down to the point where the Half Marathon splits off were directed left as the first of the Halfers go flying Right at least I am beating them this far as I start the climb up to Simon Howe and checkpoint 2 I started get some discomfort in my Achilles it’s a bit of a slog up to the checkpoint by the standing stone and the Marshalls are ensconced in their tent this is a wild place where they will be for a long time as this is a also the last check point as the route comes back the other way. As I start to run down hill I fall in behind a runner and we descend Simon How Rigg and we start to over take a few small groups  and Hitting the woods at Wardle Green and over take a few more on the gentle climb before the swamp of a forest ride that leads to check point 3 at Wardle Rigg and a chance to refill and refuel I hand over my bottle and I am in formed I am Shivering like a Sh1tt1ng Dog as I sutruggle not to empty the whole tube of Elecrolyte tabs in to the bottle. I grab some Flap Jack and Jelly babies and I am away along the fire road and the step decent down to the railway and more fire road I am over taken by 2 runners one  I manage to stay with the second one along the undulating track when suddenly he peals off Right. Lucky! If Id have been on my own I may well have cruised along past the turning we cross the railway splash through more bog, trees and start the slippery climb out my Achilles starts to give me some real grief up this climb and in a dark moment contemplate how I would deal with recovering from a ruptured tendon. And In a Darker One contemplate DNF at the next Check Point.  The Route turns to follow a moor land shelf above the North York Moors railway passing behind Skelton Tower the ruin that can be seen high above the Railway. There is a marshal and Mr Steele himself waiting at the turning point for the climb up on to Levisham moor and Check Point 4 Do I bail? Well its been OK on the flat… ummm “If Bone ain’t Showing keep on going!” nah keep going you’ll run it off.  My navigational saviour stops to don a waterproof as it is just starting to spit with rain I dig mine out as I climb (Constant forward motion and all that) and he wasn’t seen again.  Check Point 4 has quite a crowd a Marshall offers to fill my bottle very kind of him I stuff some flap jack in and Grab some jelly babies and head off juggling them across the moor Passing a couple in the dip in there Sunday best with umbrellas its now raining properly so good look to them I think as I start the long steady pull along the ridge which will eventually lead to Hole of Horcum.

I am looking forward to this section. Its in an area that I have passed through since I was a kid on trips to Whitby and never been able/got round to exploring I think part of the fun of these trail events is going to places that you wouldn’t normally go those bits that are a bit to far away for a day walk and too small or close to something bigger and better for a weekend.  Rivington 2 weeks ago was beautiful, the L50 took me over to Mardale and Longsled dale areas of the lakes that you wouldn’t normally go to 3 Rings of Shap like wise.  So here’s a chance to see without looking through the car window well it would have been had the clag not been in.

The long drag ends at the Hole of Horcum and even in the clag you can tell it’s an impressive bit of geography. Check point 6 is at 15.5 miles starting to feel it now as were marshalled across the road to the boot of a car for more water flap jacks and Jelly babies I have a walking rest as I eat and drink and I am caught by Ben who it transpires is training for the MDS not exactly similar condition I say as as we splash down the track. As we approach the turn which is wrapped up with that much yellow ribbon it bears a passing resemblance to a Christmas present I comment that its impossible to miss as two runners do exactly that and go flying past, we’re nice we shout them back, descending we pass a shaggy and aloof lama which looks unimpressed by our efforts and  start another short climb towards RAF Fylingdales once of Golf ball fame now home of the giant sand castle this area is immensely boggy and we splash and slide our way towards the base could this be part of the cold war defences? Ben is Ex Army and explains that the improbably group of caravans in the base are a fixture of pretty much every army base I examine the pill boxes and think I wouldn’t fancy being in there with an invading army approaching. We continue along the back of the base and on to rough Landover tracks which take a little of the sting out of the most open and desolate part of the course. I loose Ben along here I had been chatting with him for a while before I realised he’s not here. Opps I start to play leap frog with a few groups but eventually leave them behind for now.  There is brief relief when the tracks run out as they are very hard on the feet and ankles as I approach the Cross on Lilla Howe to find yet again the Marshal of Omni Presence Standing in the Rain the weather is bloody and I thank him shake his hand and ask who he up set to get posted here but he says he’s quite happy. I head in to the head waters of Ella beck quite literally at times. Bring back the Land Rover track all is forgiven. The next three KM seams to take forever as My GPS had a funny here I don’t know how long it actually took it also featured 1 very elegant dismount I might add as my foot goes from under me and I pirouette in to bank of reeds. I was caught by one of the groups I had been playing leap frog with and I managed to stay with them as we splash down towards the next check point we are slowed by a couple of streams crossing which are knee deep following the heavy rain of the last few days Check Point 8 at Eller Beck Bridge another land mark of childhood trips to Whitby arrives and bottles refilled coke quaffed flap jack and jelly babies consumed I chase the group down again as we cross back over the NYM Railway and start the pull up to Simon Howe and Checkpoint 2/9 finally it comes in to view and were checked off by the marshal who has only his nose stuck out the tent in these foul conditions it one thing running in them its quite another being sat out all day.  the group I am with seams intent on going back the route we came to this point rather than the more direct finishing route and its with a pang of guilt that I over take them while they dither as I wouldn’t have been quite so quick here had they not unknowingly towed me along to Eller beck bridge. The last section is a complete quagmire and the Somme like conditions seem quite appropriate for remembrance weekend. I just manage to pass by rather than over the remains of 2 sheep as I approach Two Howes and the final decent towards Goathland I am edging closer to the runner in front finally catching and pass her on the last bit of moor before the village but she has more in the tank as I slow up the little hill and she pulls away on the last 500meter to the Village Hall I have no response but I just about manage a wave as Flip Owen takes my picture as I ran down the road fuelled by the well done’s  and clapping of the few bystanders . Final turn and in to the Village hall gates Applause from the on lockers which always brings a smile to my face as I think are they clapping me? Oh yes they are. In to the hall and my time is recorded I forget to ask 5:43:10 in my time happy with that one.

I feel a bit disorientated as I stand in the heat of the hall and I am tapped on the shoulder and handed medal and T-Shirt. I find my way to a seat and Survey the enormous buffet of cakes sausage rolls and soup. Ben appears it the doorway some 10 minutes after me and we have a chat over soup and cake before we head of our separate ways to sort out and head home I go and change tops and put on all my kit for the work up to road and after half an hour sitting in the nice warm hall its still a shock as I manage a very slow walk back up the hill to the B&B despite pulling on my big primaloft jacket I am shivering and have no feeling in my hands by the time I have removed my Shoes and stowed my wet gear in the car before venturing in side despite have spent the best part of 3 hours in the rain I am glad to climb in to the hot shower.

Next morning confirms that I have done some running as following the obligatory full English a wander round the village confirms that the legs don’t work when going down hill and there’s a definite lake of energy going up hill! Its quite a strange feeling but one that is quite satisfying.    

My name is Richard Martin I am a runner….. There said it.

Rivington Trail 26. First Marathon, Shortest Race of the Year.

A marathon…. 26.2 miles completed first by Pheidippides Circa 490 BC in the sun in Ancient Greece and resulting in him dropping dead at the end. Fast forward a long time and I am stood at the start of my first marathon in Rivington, Lancashire on a gray windy autumn day so only the distance is the same (We’ll gloss over the fact that it isn’t 26.2 miles from Marathon to Athens) yes I realise that spoils the ending but how else could I have written this? So this is the tale of my First Marathon which I think I technically should have done before I went on to “race” ultras but hey why be conventional?

An early start was slightly softened by the clocks going back but only just. A quick cuppa, throw the kit in the car and off to collect running mate for the day Gary and we’re off south….. Always feels weird heading south to go north. But it’s a speedy journey down to the A50 and on to the M6’s variously the 6, 62 & 61. Before a “pleasant” de tour round various bits of Bolton’s Suburbs and we arrive at Rivington and Blackrod School for the start of the race in plenty of time for Registration/Kit Check/Race briefing, which turn out to be; rapid/Non existent /very brief respectively. In stark contrast to the last Laithwaite run event where they were; a bit of a queue/Thorough/ Very detailed, a little bit frightening and Humours respectively.

So there was plenty of time to examine the Goody bags and Event T-shirt and get kit sorted out, fit timing chips, oops zip ties don’t come undone on once you have done them up, clip on race number and drink coffee and eat the chia charge flap jacks. As two borderline coffee snobs we were most impressed that there was half decent coffee on offer. In the chilly conditions we opted not to join the chap doing laps of the school cricket field and retreated to the car for an alternative warm up involving the cars heater until time for the race. We start to gather in the funnel for the briefing which was er brief, but with the benefit of PA could be heard as the delights of what was to come were explained, keep following the arrows and there is a lot of mud out there, watch out for the metal plate at the end of the drive its slippery.

At 9:41 were off, we cross the line to the theme from Rocky reach the slippery metal plate they neglected to mention it’s an anti tank device with 6 inch spikes sticking out but its safely negotiated by all and we are away and up a long pull on to the moors accompanied by some pretty fabulous views. The first part of the course goes up over Rivington Pike passing a couple of follies on the way. Pigeon tower is followed by Rivington tower on the first summit shortly before descending towards wilder wood and the first event photographer (suck in the tummy and say cheese), and start climbing back towards the TV masts on winter hill we started just about last but we have been slowly picking people off up to here there is another event photographer hiding in a dip (Run! suck in the tummy and say cheese) as we hit the road to the TV station we start to play leap frog with some runners on the road up as we discuss the finer points of the white lining on the 2 meter wide road one of us knows his roads like Nick Ham knows his lights.  We’re making decent time as we manage 5 mostly upwards miles in the first hour and having cracked a fair amount of ascent. The road to the TV station which is quite atmospheric on the lonely wind sweep moor with cables clanking and whistling in the wind we arrive at Scotsman’s Stump a memorial to a murdered travelling sales man, wonderfully flowery Victorian language recounts the Barbarous Murder of George Henderson on Rivington Moor at noonday November 9th 1838 in the 20th year of his age. Start on a good long decent from another memorial to the 35 victims of a 1958 plane crash. A cheerful place is Winter Hill. We fly down and cross the A675 down to the river and up through the first bog of the day to check point 1 near Delph Reservoir.

Duly refuelled with Tiffin and flapjack, and water re filled and were off again. If I’d been paying attention to a map here there is a nifty short cut but I wasn’t so we head on 3 km loop round Delph Reservoir and pass back within 500 meters of the check point before heading out on to a long open stretch along the Wilton Weavers Way as we head for Darwen Moor and some proper Mud. The first pool of which is the sort you look at and think, what’s the best route round this? On working out it would be to balance along the top of the Dry stone wall, you just plough though it as quickly as possible. We are battered by the wind for a few KM but the sun also starts to make an appearance we reach a gate blocked by another lake of mud and cow shit complete with in-situ cows and we wade down the side of the herd to the gate trying not to think of the composition of the gloop we’re wading through. There are some signs out on the course for motivation (Disappointed that there were no accompanying photos of kittens being rescued!) and as we turn to ascend Darwen moor we’re informed “Crazy Got You Here. Grit Will Get You Back”. Now….. time for the Bog of Eternal Stench as we head off piste across the very boggy moor and I sink shin deep in places as big rafts of reeds sink quite alarmingly under foot the route here was weaving through little orange flags Gary suggests they mark those that sank…... Once safely negotiated we hit a pleseant section round the Edge of the Darwen hill plateau  and try to identify the hills to the east. I have a good go at justifying that there the bottom end of the Yorkshire dales, Gary doesn’t sound convinced and rightly so. We had a good stretch of running across Darwen Moor feeling strong and running at a good pace up the gentle incline and now as we approach Darwen tower Foley number 3. It be comes apparent why I felt so strong, as now we come back in to the wind and I am blown bodily sideways. There are some walkers at the tower who shout encouragement over the wind, I briefly tap the trig point as is my superstition and we turn in to the wind and it stops us dead! Just as we stop running and event photographer appears and a jog for the camera is rewarded with a good team photo. Running is resumed as we drop down off the tops past another event photograph and down towards check point 2 at Tockholes. Coke, Crisps, Flap Jack and Tiffin all follow.

There is a slight moment of concern on the way out as the Marshall cheerily announces well done that’s Half way. Um were 16 miles in I hope this isn’t half way!

We cross the road past the Pub and try to descend towards the first of the string of reservoirs that will lead us home stuffing food in to my mouth and pockets. This section is the flatter part of the course, my standard running plan of walk the ups jog the downs and do what seems appropriate on the flats has worked well so far, but this next section could test that as there is on paper quite a bit of flat.  Gary takes the lead and I try to hang on following the winding path to the first of the Reservoirs this leg is a Dam designers dream as we pass what feels like 50 Reservoirs there are straight dams, curved dames, chevron shaped dams and even reservoirs with 2 dams. The 3 Roddlesworth reservoirs come first and we catch up with the Two chaps who we parked next to at the school and we chat as we approach a pub and the road crossing at Abbey village and we pull away on the road stretch to Brinscall and a “nice” steep slippery tarmac climb before dropping back to a leat which we follow in the company of 2 runners who we leap frog with. I am feeling good and running well but Gary is starting to struggle a bit with Cramp and digestion issues he later commenting that at the Sign that Said “Don’t Stop Running unless you Puke, Faint or Die” he was contemplating at least 2 of those. I feel a little frustrated as my competitive instincts kick in and the 2 runners pull away as we walk along.

Running as a group was discussed over a post group run breakfast a week or so before this run/race. As you’ll all naturally run at different paces some one is always going to be slowed or towed along There are also positives as well there are moral benefits and it can help get more out of the slower runner or help pace the quicker ones over a long distance etc. So it is swings and roundabouts. But running as a team we decide should be done for mainly social enjoyment. We’d agreed we’re doing the social today. Nice day out and enjoy the course and thus far we had, and we had also been fairly similar paced or at least I don’t think I had held Gary back too much.  Now. I don’t consider my self particularly competitive and I will tell you that I am only racing the clock but I am starting to get quite narked about being over taken in races and seeing some one jog off who I feel I am running better than causes some competitive twinges. So I think I might have found that this is not strictly true. But this is a team run you accept the ups and downs or the fasts and slows perhaps so those thoughts are shelved as we walk/slow jog for abit as we drop down to the final check point Ahhhh Noooo Jaffa Cakes! I think I may still be suffering form Jaffa cake poisoning form the High Peak 40.  But fortunately other snacks are to be had.

A final refuelling and refilling at the beginning of Anglezark Res, Gary also points out I have been bleeding and there is a large red smudge on my chest, odd I think It usually hurts before it gets to that stage. Declining the offer to tape up as nothing hurts and were over taken by a large group as I faff with my platypus grrr bottles next time! See it’s that competitive streak that I don’t have again.  We head off winding thought the woods and I feel the first twinges of cramp in my calves. As we cross some open fields we are treated to a fly past by some Army Helicopters. We arrive at a neat little res where both ends have of the gap behind a knoll have been dammed Gary calls a time out for a comfort break and kindly tells me to carry on as he is struggling and I am going well. I am very grateful for this and head off at a jog down to the shore of the main reservoir chasing that competitive streak I might have to accept I have. I catch and pass the first of the runners that we had earlier played leap frog with! The route climbs away from Anglezark res and up to cross the smaller of the 2 dams that form Yarrow Res and I jog along and pass the second leap frog runner I am happily jogging down the long descent under the giant Chevron shaped dam at the other end to arrive in Rivington at the Anglezark Dam ah the end must be close! But how close? Up the hill Right past the little School and in to the county park where Go Apers startle me as they swing shouting through the trees and I start to have to dodge round the Sunday strollers, the down side of wearing your number on your bag is no one you approach realises your racing. Going for the number on the leg look next time I think. It feels quite a long drag through the country park. The final Folly of the Day is passed a scale replica of Liverpool castle which confused me at the time odd place to build a castle. There is a long avenue to negotiate it’s just down hill and then up so I muster a Run with cramp nibbling at my calves. There is a family about halfway down I think I can run till I am pasted them and then walk as I reach them I spy a marshal ah must keep on. He marks the road and a short down hill to the school! The final “sprint” down the hill, marshals clap and wave me through the Gate mind the Tank trap again and in beep goes the timing mat! There is a ripple of applause from the assembled few and I am handed water and a Toffee Apple and a Medal and there is concern over my blood stained shirt. The Stain has now migrated and expanded some way south. But I assure them I am fine and a medal is placed round my neck and the chip clipped from my shoe. That’s it done 101^st in 5:17:56 another PB 58 minutes off my previous best for 26.2 which was part of the High Peak 40. One of these days I will do one of these and it won’t be a PB it may be quite a shock!

Gary finished 110^th about 12 minutes behind me 5:29 he struggled through the last bit feeling quite ill so top effort for battling on.  

After changing and post race refuelling with bread and soup we start to the drive back which isn’t quite as traffic free as the early morning drive up. I have really sore legs which are really aching stuck in the driving seat and get the better of me just when there are no services!  Finally at Uttoxeter mercy a little chef, well as we stopped in their car park for a stretch so it would be rude not to pop in now wouldn’t it? Olympic Breakfast you say oh go on then.

All in all a good day out.

High Peak 40 aka The Jaffa Cake Jog.

High Peak 40 – If ever I see another Jaffa cake it will be too soon.

So after the razzmatazz of the Lakeland 50 my next outing, The High Peak 40 challenge was a bit different. It’s a much more low key ultra, one of those “pointless LDWA type events where you just turn up with a fiver and a Flapjack” for those of you that have seen Ultra Runner vs. Ironman on YouTube.

Of course we all love these events; they are the bread and butter of ultra running. I have done a few “pointless LDWA events” before I started blogging and they have there own charm and offer some quite unique challenges and there is nothing pointless about the Dorset Doddle I can tell you or the 3 Rings of Shap for that matter. They are in my experience really well organised and of course they don’t get any shorter or easier for there low key-ness. You could even claim it might make them harder, being clapped and cheered through the towns and villagers of the Lake District for example certainly spurred me on in the L50 and my pace along Ambleside high street increases with every telling of the story. Anyway back to the HP40. 

So what had I let my self in for this time? The HP40 is and yes the clue is in the name a 40 mile Jaffa cake eating challenge walk/run that is rumoured to be 41 and a bit miles, that stretchy race directors tape measure again with about 1500 meters of accents and decent. It starts in the rather lovely town of Buxton, with a route that leaves the pavilion gardens and winds round and over the western peak district. Going via the Goyt Valley, round Chapel en le Frith, over the Roych and Mam Tor to Castleton, before heading in to the White Peak down to Tideswell on to Monsel Dale and back to Buxton.

After managing an early escape from the office to avoid the usual Friday traffic nightmare in Nottingham, I headed for Buxton through thick mist which once on the A515 had visibility down to 50 meters in places. This could be interesting. I fortunately arrived in time for a last minute gear purchase from Jo Royals and a quick bit of Food Shopping. Mmm I eye some pork pies nah I’ll leave those I’ll be good. Oh how I will rue that particular decision. The evening was supposed to be spent with a gentle recce of the end of the race, as there is nothing worse than trying to use an OS map to navigate trough a town probably in the dark, probably in the rain when your knackered and getting lost with 2 km to go will really ruin your day! However it was a rather damp misty evening and the Pub/packing kit/food/B&B/repacking kit was all calling. So the recce was limited to finding the School where the race registration was because if there is one thing worse than getting lost at the end it not being able to find the registration/start. It also transpires that the B&B which I had selected at random the delightful Roseleigh Hotel was effectively also one end of the start line so I could wait in comfort for the start. Highly recommend this place if you in Buxton. www.roseleighhotel.co.uk

I was feeling much happier about this race than I did with the Lakeland 50. Yes there were a few nerves, 40 miles is a long way after all. Preparation had been less the Ideal/non existent for a change just a couple of long ish trail runs and the bike commute and praying I’m still feeling the benefit of the diet but there was none of the fear of last time. I was nervous that knowing sort of what I am potentially capable of this time would mean it wouldn’t be as much fun. Granted I may never repeat the incredible experience at the Lakeland 50. One simply does not turn up 3 hours earlier than expected on every ultra. But I was confident that I would finish by hook or by crook.  

Saturday morning dawned (some time after I had got up) Grey and damp but not cold It was rather muggy or basically Yuk. I was fuelled by the B&B’s “take away” breakfast which was a great spread and enabled me to make some marmalade Sandwiches which felt rather appropriate as there was a giant Paddington Bear sat in the Guest lounge.  Once feed it was off to registration which was a very rapid affair

Morning, Name? Martin. No Last Name? Yes Martin. Oh sorry errr Richard? Yes. 107. Thanks. Pack with Race Number, t-Shirt, cloth badge and free cliff bar duly handed over.

It was a quick pining on of the number wander back to put the t-shirt in the car and wait for the start with Paddington. As the runners started to gather I nip out of the B&B and shortly thereafter was a whistle and a chap stood on a bench for the race briefing. Which I don’t think was heard more than 3 rows back. I did get something about the 28^th running…. Enjoy your selves….. Pink arrows….. Close gates…… and then with minimal fanfare we were off.

It’s a nice steady jog round the park before heading out on to the A53 and a steady uphill away from Buxton. I walk up the Hill next to some one who’s running but not faster than I was walking, now the race thins out as we head on up the long hill before heading over in to the Goyt Valley. It’s a step pull up the road and through some woods to a stile which has a bit of a queue. Once negotiated we’re on to the moors with pink arrows pointing the way down to the disused railway the view from here would have been lovely if I could have seen it. Along here I fell in with a few runners who I’d continue bumping in to till the end having the usual chat about what you have done, what they have do is this your first HP40 or are you a vet?, I ended up running with Jules from Norfolk for several checkpoints, Check point one arrives earlier than expected. 3 miles down.

My tally card is clipped, we jog on down to Fernlee res and I allow my self to be towed along the flat track at Jules’s pace which while just a gentle jog is faster than I would normally go usually just walking stretches like this. I decide this is OK we’ll see how it goes, we drop down past the first and second dams on to the riverside trail before a pink arrow points us away from the river to check point two. I start to have some problems with my heels at this point but ignore this and press on. Why did I wear these shoes they always catch? Tally clipped and on we go this leg starts the first of the climbs as we go over a little ridge then a bigger one before a long pull up to Eccles Pike sadly no cakes available.  Jules pulls away on a break and I walk up with Patrick who turns out to be the obligatory “hard as nails pensioner” having complete 23 high peak 40’s at lease one 1 Marathon des Sables and a few Augrabies extreme marathons across the Kalahari Desert and Grand Union Canal race or 2 for good measure, a very interesting chap indeed. We arrive at CP 3 at Digleach Farm 9 miles down and the first of the Jaffa cakes.  

I haven’t had Jaffa cakes in ages so a hand full is swiped water bottle refilled and we’re off.  I contemplate how odd ultra running is as I jog down hill eating as normally this would just make me throw up but not today. We have regrouped as a 3 by Chapel as I reel Patrick in and we reel in Jules. A passing motorist asks are we doing the 40? We confirm and are told were doing really well. We pass under the railway and past the former home of a Dam buster’s pilot and up towards Beet Farm Check Point 4.

More Jaffa Cakes and Bananas. From here the route starts to get a bit more exposed heading up in to the Roych from which there should have been some lovely views but we are still clagged in. On the decent in to Roych Clough I leave Patrick behind and climbing out catch and pass Jules who was not to be seen again, but finished about 15 mins behind me. Check Point 5 at 14 miles is reached and its Banana time. As the marshal fills my bottle he mentions I look like I’ve been for a swim, it’s been a bit warm I say. I could murder a ham sandwich.

Lets play dodge the mountain biker! Rushup edge is very much mountain bikers country and I dodge a few enjoying the excellent decent that we’re travelling up. Finally splitting from the bridleway I now get to terrorise some DofE groups. Oh how I remember cursing those pesky fell runners with their tiny packs flying past as I struggled under a huge DofE pack. Now I do the same I’m sure I should feel guilty but I’m not, its character building for them! I catch up with a chap from Stoke who is smoking a roll up while running, different I think and we have a quick chat until I push on. Despite the dull weather Mam Tor is busy so its time for the Great Ridge tourist slalom I weave my way past the crowds to Hollins Cross and a decent rather more technical than I remember down to Castleton and Check Point 6, 19 miles and more you guessed it Jaffa Cakes and some fig rolls. If only I had brought those pork pies…….

More tourist slalom on the way to the village centre, and some P#@K on a mountain bike screaming at people to get out the way. Time for Cave Dale. The steep limestone gorge cum dale that is the stuff of runners nightmares as a Walker/Runner I dig out the poles and rattle up in 4 wheel drive passing one or two people on the way once out of cave dale it’s a long drag over Old Moor and Bradwell Moor this is a lot flatter than I remember……. Que a little bit of a downer. I had it in my head that I could jog down hill from here all the way to Tideswell Dale. But the route is not really that down hill and with 20 miles already in the legs in a fairly quick time it doesn’t feel that runable, there are some distinctly flat bits and even some that are suspiciously like up hill. I arrive at check point 7 at the wonderfully named Bushy Heath Farm after 23 miles in a rather grumpy frame of mind to find more Jaffa cakes which I am starting to tire of but mercifully some TUC Crackers provide something vaguely savoury. I also get over taken by people I over took on the way up Cave Dale. Gerrrr I do manage (I hope) to keep my grumpiness to my self ensure a polite thank you to the Marshalls (Always be nice to the Marshalls it’s the law) before heading off to find the rest of the decent to Tideswell is not really that down hill either with some distinctly flat bits as well. I play leap frog with a runner through the town but a quick comfort break sees him out of sight.  

I try to keep jogging but as I approach 26 miles the spring is lacking form my step and the Jogging bits are getting shorter and hurt as the feet start to feel sore underneath. This course has a lot of road and track in it which makes it hard going. My heels are rubbing and I curse not re-taping them I resolve to give them some TLC at the next check point. I arrive at the checkpoint 8 which marks a marathon distance feeling pretty sorry for my self, to find more Bloody Jaffa cakes and flap jack. I am asked if I have seen No.40 by one lady, apparently he’s been suffering from extreme joggers nipple and now has red stripes on what should have been a plain white t-shirt ouch (Ultra runners 101. If you feel rubbish then some one will feel worse). I feel a bit bewildered by numbers here and neglect to do anything about my feet and carry on in to Tideswell dale and even the giant hedgehog doesn’t make me smile. I’m now 6 hours in which is a PB from a marathon but pushing earlier on is catching up with me I attempt to jog some slight down hills but my legs are having non of it. I trudge sore footed down the dale and contemplate the 14 mile march of doom to the end. This one of the most picturesque parts of the Peak District but is all rather lost on me.

I then give my self a metaphorical slap and try to take this race by the scruff of the neck time for Plan G. Some one said if you’re feeling grumpy on an ultra then eat yourself happy. What food have I got a Clif bar? Uugghh no, Jelly Babies! Result half a pack later I feel a little happier and resolve to “rest” by walking all of this leg to the next check point and go again from there. So on I march. I’m over taken again but so what. Heading in to Cressbrook still munching Jelly Babies I resolve to finally sort my feet out I pass the 2 lads that had over took me while they have a Kodak moment, only for them to over take me again we exchange pleasantries and I warn them “first one in buys the beers” which I think I may regret as I catch them as we join the Monsel trail and point them in the right direction as there is a pink arrow failure at this point and the obvious way back to Buxton is not our route off they jog and I march on finally finding a suitable perch at Cressbrook Halt to apply some TLC to my feet finding some holes in my heels and a blister at the base of my big toe. Fresh socks and powder are a bit too little too late but it improves things for now inn my head at least and two ladies ask if I’m OK as they pass me. Shoes back on and were off to the next check point which I am assured is just around the corner by several passing cyclists. Check point 8 and the 29 mile point are indeed there. With more Jaffa cakes and flap jack I force some down I really really want a ham sandwich or one of those pork pies I didn’t buy. In fact anything savoury and I am caught by No.40 complete with bloodied shirt but not passed.  This is 29 miles in about 7 hours. I can now be a Royal Marine if I complete the next mile in under an hour! Ok I can’t

Despite mild Jaffa cake poisoning I feel more positive, having a chat with the marshal’s and manage a jog from the viaduct down to the valley floor and the occasional jog down some of the more undulating bits of path to the A6 and head in to Deep Dale 1 which is taken in 4 wheel drive. It’s a long plod up a steady hill, one which tortures those at the front. At the top is Checkpoint 9 I’m informed I am 125^th and there are more Jaffa cakes and flap jack oh I hate Jaffa cakes. Mrs No.40 form CP 6 is there, she asks how far behind No. 40 is. As I leave there is a figure appearing it not No.40 its Patrick…

Ah I thought I would be seeing him again… Now it’s the road stretch………. 3 miles of tarmac that is die straight but undulating with each crest revealing a bit more straight road. One blog I read said brace yourself, I think they had a point. I turn off my mind apart from the bit that looks for pink arrows and I manage to jog the bigger downs at the crest of one bump I can see someone in front and set my mind on catching the 2 ladies in front of him and try keeping Patrick from over taking me. Finally I see pink and the arrow points down the hill to Chelmorton I am also cheered up by the sight of a passing group of lady mountain bikers. Mind switched back on I realise that this is suitably down hill for a jog which takes me painfully down in to the village. I hear the foot steps behind me as I start the track out of the village, the wily old fox has caught me up. I knew he would. We start to close down on the chap in front and as the track starts to dip Patrick jogs off as I plod on now resigned to walking … Bugger 126^th… there is an interesting moment as a herd of cows attempts a pincer movement on me but I get away over the Stile the next runner wasn’t so lucky and end ended up hoping over a barbed wire fence to get away. Ah there is Deep Dale 2 I have heard much about this mythical chasm which is like a cruel joke form god at this point. You can see the check point in the distance but this little beauty is hidden until you reach the lip, what I hadn’t heard is that you could abseil in to it! It feels hideously steep and exposed the path is little more than a boots width and is slippery mud covered slippery limestone oh joy! While I was prepared for a moral sapping down and up I wasn’t quite prepared for this with jellied legs I carefully pick my way down maintaining 5 points of contact on occasion and fortunately safely reach the bottom. And then up the steep but far friendlier other side and to the check point 38 miles done Deep Dale has bunched us up and I arrive just behind the 2 ladies, Patrick and the other chap. I discuss savoury food with one of the Marshalls.  I leave the check point as some one suggests it’s just a park run to go……

I clamber over the stile and every one has shot off….. Bugger I plough on up through Cowdale and up the last hill to Staden Low. A glance over my shoulder reveals 2 runners approaching quickly. Arse! Past the promised house with fair ground rides and boom I can see the Viaduct that signals the end is nigh. As I try a painful hobble of a run down the hill to the final field but it’s not really happening and as I reach the viaduct I am over taken by the 2, a runner with a pacer which really pisses me off I dismissing them as cheats which makes me feel better even if it isn’t true. 127^th I negotiate the A515 and across the fields, mind the underage drinkers in the wood, through the twitchel (lets see how many none Nottingham folk know what I am on about) and I can see the School. Final push, I run down the hill and up the Drive to a ripple of applause from the gathered few and hand shakes from those who finished just before me.

10:17:15 and actually 123^rd where did the other 4 go?

No medals just a feeling of satisfaction. I head in to the canteen for Tea and Hot Sausage rolls I can’t face the cake and certainly not the Jaffa Cakes. I spent a pleasant hour chatting and drinking tea with the other chap, Patrick and an Irish chap from Oxford sharing past events, strategies and which races are the best. I decide its time for a shower and pull on a waterproof and head off for the 200 yard hobble back to the B&B within 20 yards I am reduced to a shivering wreck and with chattering teeth have to stop to dig out and extra layer which must have looked quite comic. Suitable attired I make it back before giving my self hypothermia  

So that was that, it was an interesting experience as I pushed my self harder than before especially with the “quick” start but it was an experiment and despite my low from 20 to 30 miles and slightly pained march there after I did really enjoyed the challenge I suffered more than in the L50 but that’s all part of the challenge

My Name is Richard Martin and the more I think about the more I think I might be beginning to be an ultra runner.