The last few weeks have been spent preparing for this monster race which starts at Ingleton before zig-zagging its way across the high Yorkshire summits to Threshfield across some beautiful but very remote country.
A field of 500 or so entrants lined up on a very wet and windy morning last Saturday equipped with a very strict list of mandatory kit and started the first climb to Ingleborough getting soaked. Visibility was poor and conditions were slippery down the steep descent and slabs towards the Hill Inn and the first feed station. The climb up Whernside and back down to Kingsdale were equally grim but as we approached the second feed station the sun came out and the layers came off. A surprise kit check meant unpacking carefully crammed in stuff and in the rush to get going again I obviously didn't secure my water bottle properly.
I've been experimenting with folding Z-poles ahead of the TDS and started to use them on the steep pull up to Gragareth. For the minor weight penalty they're certainly great for taking to strain off your legs. A long run along the ridge to Great Coum became a thirsty one when I went for a drink and it wasn't there. The steep boggy descent towards Dent was hard work and I was starting to feel horrible as I ran into the village. A quick stop to equip myself with a sausage roll, a cup of coffee and a 7-up bottle out of a bin before a long climb towards Blea Moor.
Taking a direct line across the scary, bouncy bogs took me up to the checkpoint above the railway vents and I started to catch those in front. The descent back into Dentdale felt a bit demoralising but a bowl of pasta at Stonehouses fired me up and I climbed strongly to Great Knoutberry Hill. From the summit you get a long descent to see who is following you and I'd built up a reasonable gap in 27th place.
Another feed stop at Redshaw came and went before a bog trot round Snaizeholme and Dodd Fell where you turn for home with 20 miles to go. I took a bad line off the summit and climbed up and down peat hags and bags before emerging at Fleet Moss and another feed station for rice pudding, fruit. By this time I was feeling really sick and suffering stomach cramps but had to keep going to avoid "grouping" for as long as possible.
The organisers have a cut-off time of 7:30pm at the roadside checkpoints after which competitors are grouped into 4s until the last roadside checkpoint or dawn. The longer you can put that off the longer you can go at your own pace.
After skirting the notorious Fleet Moss and overtaking a few more runners I arrived at the Middle Tongue checkpoint to find no marshals and no checkpoint. Some frantic running around the bogs ensued with a few others who'd arrived until the marshals were spotted about a mile away still making their way there. This was the only slight glitch in an otherwise magnificent organisation.
From Fleet Moss I descended to Cray where another competitor was looking for an empty pop bottle so its not just me!
The next section across Buckden Pike was completely new to me so needed a bit of navigation as there was nobody in front or behind me but I kept myself right until I arrived at Park Rash checkpoint at 20:25hrs where three lads were chomping at the bit having been waiting for the first group to form up. A quick coffee and lump of cake forced down before the stiff climb up Great Whernside just as the sun was setting and the clag descending.
My new friends were Stuart Mills, Duncan Steen and Jon Hedger, all quality ultra runners so I felt under pressure to keep up but at least I didn't need to navigate. As it grew dark I stopped to put on my head torch with about an hour to go and obviously dropped a pole (and they're not cheap!). I had a quick look around but couldn't see it so reluctantly set off so as not to slow the group down. I mentioned it to the marshals at the nearby checkpoint who found it the following morning - phew!
The last couple of miles to the road were marked with flashing beacons which was quite cheery to start with but every time you thought it was the last one it wasn't. At the tarmac the group was officially disbanded and we set off down the road to Grassington at our various speeds passing the 60 mile mark with the locals out clapping us home.
I crossed the line at 13hrs and 55 mins and although I haven't seen the results I'm fairly sure I was 22nd overall. I was exhausted and quite sick for a while but today I'm pretty pleased with how that went.
This is a great event in a beautiful part of the world with mind-boggling organisation so I'd encourage anybody to do it - at least once anyway.
