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.

The Lakeland 50.

Dear Sponsors, friends, roman’s, countrymen (and women) and assorted hangers on.

 Firstly thank you for your generous support in sponsoring me on this little walk across the park. A national park that is. It takes me a while to get these things down on paper but I though you would appreciate a little update on how things went on the day don't worry this doesn't contain any photos of my feet. You may want to be sitting comfortable get a brew and turn off spell check.

 From rough beginnings grow mighty races

 So now I have done it I can come clean and tell you that my training went completely to pot. This was thanks to being rather busy at work and so training essentially amounted to just 2 trail half marathons, and critically loosing 2 1/2 stone. Also that I was from Thursday afternoon onwards I was quite unhappy with the whole concept of going up to the lakes on my own after my running buddy dropped out through injury and wandering round and over 50 miles of  it.

 But you have to give these things ago. So I headed off with a car full of kit and a head full of demons. Having not relaxed at all while sitting in the M62 and M6 Car Parks I arrived at Ambleside to purchase a silly hat, a lovely cap complete with French foreign legion style flaps marks for style nil poi! Marks for practicality next day Dix poi! And new watch as I managed to leave mine at home. Ambleside was it's usual busy tourist self and just to add to the butterflies there is a nice big banner telling people that these crazy ultra runner types will be piling though on Saturday in to Sunday morning. On to Coniston......

 I got to Coniston and drove on to the John Ruskin School which plays host to Race HQ. The schools playing field, which is campsite and car park for the weekend was filling up nicely duly directed to my space I pitched the tent in to which I was expecting to crash at around 6 am on Sunday morning and headed off to Register. Registration passed smoothly kit checked, race pack collected, Timing Chip fitted this is an orange wrist band and a plastic "dibber" which has a certain "criminal on day release" chic to it and draws some funny looks from those not in the know. Weight recorded and written on your race number mine a svelte 91.1 kg's. some 17kg less than when I had a bright Idea and signed up for this back in March! Now to kill some time with packing and repacking of kit, late lunch ah the fish finger sandwich... and a wander to the lake until 6pm when I went to see the Big Boys (and Girls) head off on the 100 mile event (and you think I'm mad). There was a rousing live rendition of Nesen Dorma which translates as non shall sleep, which is quite appropriate for an event which will take some people though 2 nights. This was chosen as race anthem after a competitor thought they hallucinated Paul Pots of Britain's Got Talent fame humming said tune at the side of the track on their second night out. Now hallucinations are quite common in ultra running how ever this one later confirmed via twitter wasn't an hallucination it was actually Paul Pots humming Nesen Dorma so there you go fact is indeed stranger than fiction. This made quite a few hairs on the backs of quite a few  necks stand up and then it was away with the 100 runners, the elite boys and girls set off at what looked like my 10km pace. Time to beat a retreat for tea and bed.

 Going for the proper bed option I was stopping at Elterwater Hostel, lovely place with the equally lovely Britannia Inn just round the corner. So a pleasant evening was passed chatting to some nice people from Dorset who couldn't workout if I was Mad or a Legend.... Mad clearly I would have thought. Saturday morning dawned clear and warm as expected there was a quick sort out of kit and some nerves and butterflies as I checked out to be wished look by the chap from Dorset and the Hostel staff that timing chip certainly gets you noticed. Back to Coniston for the race briefing which was provided my event organiser Marc Laithwaite. This was interesting as 600 runners crammed in to the tiny school hall warnings about the weather, pacing your self, not dropping out at Mardale Head which is miles from anywhere! And remembering that you aren't Kilian Jornet followed along with some banter about remembering the rubbish we all post on facebook suggesting the we maybe the afore mention Swiss, the motivational pictures of firemen rescuing kittens and what awesome hero’s we as ultra runners are there fore when you feel like your dying at Mardale head you need to suck it up and get on with it as that's what you came here for, Gulp!.  Marc contribution post race is below.

So now thoroughly briefed it is off to the buses for the journey to Dalemain where there race starts few miles north of Ullswater. The hours journey on a hot stuffy bus passes slowly and we are glad to de bus at the end. But the realisation that, that took a while on the bus and I'm I walking back turns the butterflies up another notch. With around 45 mins to the off it was time to find some shade and try to relax. I was at this point still feeling somewhat dubious and almost a bit emotional about the whole thing, so the time was spent trying to convince myself this was a good idea and fighting the demons in my head. Then people start to move as were called to the funnel for the off. 600 runners dib in to the start area there is some general back slapping among various groups, banter and goodbyes to supporters and then the horn goes and were away under the giant inflatable arch to the applause of the supporters gathered around .This is it, were off with a jog for the first 200 meters for the cameras before the course turns up hill and walk. The plan is to run only the down hill bits

 Dalemain to Howtown 11.2 miles- WHAT AM I DOING!

 The course starts with a loop round the Dalemain estate which thins the runners out before releasing us on to the course proper at Dockray and I spend an uncomfortable hour completing this loop in the company of my demons and too much pollen and telling myself I have done this all before I can get past Mardale head. by the end of the loop my head is in a bit of a better place then I realise that my shoes are rubbing on my heal. STOP! adjust the taping on my Achilles and carry on. We carry on down to Pooley Bridge where there are some supporters and locals alike clapping us through the village which brings a bit of a lump to the throat I know I'm in on this to. Just on the way out a car pulls up and I'm asked where we're headed?

 Me. Coniston

Driver. Oh Coniston..... Pause.... Coniston that's miles away bloody hell.

Me. Yeah about 46 the way were going, thanks

Driver. yeah sorry good luck man.

 Heading out of Pooley we start to hit Lakeland proper, with a steady climb on to the High Street ridge and long rolling decent to check point 1 Howtown Bobbin Mill. Jogging all the way down and in to check point one having started at almost the back I pass a few people as I start to pick up my pace a bit. When I arrive at the Mill its a busy so its a quick re fill of the water bottles one with flat coke and water, an odd combination but this stuff is like rocket fuel, grab a hand full of biscuits and head off with some trepidation for the big leg to Checkpoint 2 Mardale Head. This leg is considered the crux  along the most isolated bit of the course and with the dreaded climb up Fusedale! And surely the way some have been talking on Facebook possibly dragons and my be a troll as well.  I haven't been paying attention to the time but I did the leg in 2:33 which is quite quick for me.

 Howtown to Sparta! 9.4 miles total 20.6 miles - Woohooo! 'av it!

 Now I don't know what happened at Howtown or what was in those biscuits but about 500 meters out of the checkpoint I suddenly realise that I'm really enjoying myself, and as I start up Fusedale my negative thoughts disappear not to be seen again. It was very odd and was almost as if someone through a switch and passing the event photograph I am all smiles and happy as Larry. Fusedale has a reputation, runners don't like hills and the guys doing the 100 hit this at about 65miles we're also hitting it at the hottest time of the day for added "fun". So the people I start to pass are a bit suspired when I come bounding past. Being a hill walker primarily I have no fear of up hill and being 17kg lighter than I was 3 months ago walking up them is now just well, easy compared to how it was. But not every one is having fun there are some 100 runners lying down having a rest, I pass one lady on the 50 walking back and another 50 runner on all fours chucking up. Nice. At the top of the climb I there is a big group sat down having a rest, I carry on and up over High cop and end up chatting to 3 lads form Manchester until they go off to look for elvis as I pull up feeling were going wrong. A shout from behind confirms this as I turn to see the cairn I've been looking out for 5 meters behind me.  The rest of this leg was slightly odd and it passes in a bit of a haze I was in a really positive frame of mind almost euphoric and I had to remind my self that were still another 30miles to go after this leg. What makes this leg the crux apart from the fusedale climb is the path along Haweswater which is up and down through bracken and quite technical but also very hot and normally sheltered from the wind. Mercifully there was a breeze when I got there and just a hit of cloud covers forming which added to the feeling that this was all fairly easy. After around an hour of lakeside path bashing and head-butting a tree (don't ask it jumped out at me) check point 2 was reached in 2:56. that's 5:29 from the start and 20.6 miles completed. Welcome to Sparta

 Mardale Head to Kentmere 6.5 miles total 27.1 miles- OK just cool it, there's a way to go yet

 Mardale Head is run by the Delamere Spartans who run an excellent check point and "Welcome to Sparta" is there call on the way in. Time for water bottle filling, some excellent ham sandwiches, more coke and a bit of Foot TLC with some more tape adjustments and some for my chest as well if you know what I'm saying if you don't then Joggers Nip is just a whole world of pain that I wish you remain ignorant of. Stash some peanut butter and Jam sarnies for later and straight out of the check point on to the climb to Gatesgarth Pass. Again I am off like a relative  rat up a drain pipe and fly past some very weary looking 100 runners, some struggling 50 runners till at the top I bump in to Andy. Andy is a 100 runner who looks like he’s out for a Sunday stroll and not at all like he's 75 miles in to 100 miler. As we chat and jog down the big decent in to Sleddale it transpires that Andy ran the Coast to Coast earlier this year and that's 190miles and he did it in 3 days! so relatively speaking this is nipping out to the shops, well almost. After the euphoria that gripped me on the way to Mardalle I'm glad to use Andy as a bit of a brake worried I'm burning myself out. With the new lighter me I really have know idea what my limits are, which in a 50 mile race is quite an interesting thing. As we approach the turn off to the kentmere we form up with another 2 of the 100 runners as we climb over the ridge to kentmere the little group stays together were running the down hills at quite a pace which I mention to Andy, "yes my legs are shot" he replies "it hurts less to run them!" We drop to the valley floor and down to Kentmere checkpoint in the village hall. at 27miles. 2:10 from Madale which makes 7:40 which is a Marathon PB for me in to the bargain.

 Kentmere to Ambleside 7.3 miles total 34.4 miles - Cracked it!

 Montane the event sponsors run this checkpoint and there's lots of encouragement and the legendary smoothies, which I have to be honest look revolting. We go trough the routine, bottles filled, eat, this time Pasta bake very tasty and away.  I leave with a running buddy one of the 100 runners I ran in with who says he's not so hot on navigation so can we buddy up for a bit? Yes fine by me social animal that I am. As we leave we have "The Chat" the chat take place at the begging of all these little alliances and goes along the lines of don't worry if you want to head off if I'm to slow. As we begin to climb the final of the big climbs Gartburn pass we catch back up with Andy and I find I cant walk slow enough so the "the chat" takes effect as I power off up the hill passing another hand full of runners when I say runners all are pretty much walkers now at least on the ups. I catch up and chat with chap from the Isle of Wight about his clown shoes (Google Hoka's you'll see what I mean.)  as we approach the summit there are a few spots of rain and Mr Isle of Wright decides its time to jog I'm still on strictly only run the downs so I wait and only start to jog the long rolling decent to Troutbeck once at the summit.  Here I meet Lizzy (actually its the second time it was Lizzy who called out the navigation error on leg 2) who I will to continue to bump in to for the rest of the race I was a little faster than her over the ground but she was so efficient in check points while I was soaking up the atmosphere we ended up similar paced. I also catch up with Mark from Manchester who I end up running the rest of the race with so a new alliance continues on down to Troutbeck and on over to wards Ambleside we are clapped though by some friendly local at Troutbeck and as we crest the hill out were rewarded with a stunning dusk view down Windermere. we can also see the promised showers a head.

 After the race briefing I shelved all timing plans but I did keep one goal and I am about to achieve it, as at now 9pm we will get though Ambleside before last orders. But not dry as the lake needs a little top up and it starts to rain declaring it too hot for waterproofs we run on in to town with the rain proving wonderfully refreshing. Splashing down Ambleside High Street is an incredible experience, the town is buzzing and locals and race supporters giving us a rousing welcome. Its so good as were clapped and cheered the length of the high street the boost is fantastic and we go through at what fells like a 10km pace. Yes of course we've run at this pace all the way..... the buzz is so good that there is a serious discussion about going back for another lap! its taken 2:15 to get here total time 9:55 and with 36miles gone and the biggest climbs done there is a definite feeling of having cracked it.

 Ambleside to Chapel Stile 5.6 Miles 40 miles total

 The church hall in Ambleside is roasting and almost foggy with wet runners steaming and so its water bottles topped up, coke, 2 nice big mugs of tea and 4 ham sandwiches and were off again. Well almost there is first a quick stop with a Marshal. err wheres your waterproof? To hot for it I explain but as soon as I'm on loughrigg I know I'll need it then officer. They eye me up to make sure I am not about to go and give myself hypothermia and duly convinced I am in possession of my marbles, sorry enough in possession of my marbles, I am doing a 50 mile race after all, they let me go in to the rainy night almost, Mark forgets his poles and I shelter under the brolly of some supporters, Mark returns poles in hand then onward night head torch now on. Up and over the shoulder of Loughrigg  over taking several groups and bump in to Lizzy who has overtaken us whilst we were our stuffing faces at Ambleside and this little group heads on down to Skelth Bridge where we are again clapped by a group of supporters who are now treated to a little jog as we pass. along the Cumbria way to Elterwater fast walking and jogging the this flat section there is a small group ahead as we approach the village.

 Mark - "Supporters ahead Run?"

Me "Yes"

We run to wards them there's no clapping

Me "No clapping walk"

Mark "Yep"

 We almost past last nights digs and on to Chapel Stile. We reach the another pub Wainwrights inn and before closing time and are given another rousing welcome and discuss nipping in for a swift half sadly this is against the rules! More clapping thorough Chapel Stile campsite, with the smell of BBQs mmmm. BBQ and to the checkpoint lit with fairy lights and a fire pit.  1:45 takes us to 11:40 with 42 miles down.

 Chapel Stile to Tilberthwaite 6.5miles 46.5 miles total. How you feeling? Awesome actually.

 Chapel Stile is a lovely checkpoint which even has some sofas which I manage not to succumb to,  but also contains a stark reminder with 2 runners wrapped in tin foil and crashed out in the tent being attended to by the medics. The wonderfully helpful team fill our water bottles and ply us with tea, soup and cake and custard. It stops raining to, so a quick change out of the wet base layer in to a spare dry one which is nice and we head of up the Langdale valley under a clearing sky.  We reach the climb up Side Pike Pass  and enter open county for the first time at night and see head torches strung out along the routes up the climb, we start to pick people off on the way up passing a big group at the top as we head round Blea tarn down a technical section of running and round the bog of blea moss without falling in.  Its here we meet Lizzy again and head on towards Wrynosse pass for the self dib and head on. I am sure that she must think that myself and Mark are either incompetent or some odd ultra running stalkers as we seem to catch here but never pass her wired but there you go. I am not a stalker but I cant explain this one either. The sky is now clear and there is an amazing display of stars but no time to stand and stare as long a sheep or cow. I now start to realise that this is going faster than I ever expected a lot faster. So its down towards Tilbertwaite the little bump over to Tilberthwaite which is much rockier than I remember and is carefully negotiated  45 miles done in 13:55 Suddenly the end is close there is just the last climb over to Coniston. How are we? Is our greeting form a cheery marshal "I feel awesome I'm 3 hours early" is my response and tell them "I can't believe how well things are going".

 Tilberthwaite to Coniston 3.5 miles 50miles total.  I'm about 3 hours early

  At the Checkpoint its Tea and Jelly babies to refuel. Lizzy, again the model of efficiency is in and gone Mark and I take a little longer and then the realisation hits me that we could do sub 15 hours! BLOODY HELL! I also realise I need a proper ultra runners watch for the next one of these. WOOOWW did he say next one? Anyhow. Were off as fast as possible up the steps of death this is a little sling in the tail with a big reputation but its nicely lit by tea lights and again its taken in the style of a rat up a drain pipe despite 46 miles I am still not feeling up hills which is frankly weird or mostly adrenaline. But on we plough up the final climb, once up on to the flat its now almost a constant jog I am jogging at 47 miles WTF! But its happening, in to the bowl, past the tree, on to the ramp, up the stream past the tarn and Bam! Suddenly, Morcambe bay and Lancaster are lit up in the distance and Coniston below, as we crest the final rise to the decent it is a stunning scene. I haven't been this high in the lakes at night before, but there is no time to stand and stare. This decent is a sod. Rocky, technical, loose and just rubbish! We want to sprint, we crawl. Down we go carefully, toward the cottages and track to home, at the bottom we hit a T junction, err which way? Torches to the left, torches to the right. Bugger after 49 miles with the rest done on memory form my recce in March I reluctantly  have to resort to the road book. Its right, no left. Torch to the right went wrong. From here we run the rest down to Coniston past miners bridge, on to tarmac, the Black bull, up over the bridge in the middle of the road, past the BP Station in to Lake Rd, (My heart is racing and my palms are sweating reliving this. Even editing this let alone typing it first time) down the last 100 meters to the school under the arch and Dib, Done! Did I want this to end? Chip off, hand shake with Mark and mutual congratulations, were lead in to the school our Marshall declares "two 50 finishers!" and the place erupts in to applause as if we'd achieve podium places. I am grinning form ear to ear and enjoy applause, were lead on handed our times, finishers medal and t shirts. 15:09:29 is my official finish time at 2:45 am that's 3 hours earlier than I ever dreamed possible and 5 hours off my 50 mile PB. This is surreal quite some walk across the park! Lizzy finishes some 10 seconds behind us her light to was to the right of us.

 Food follows, Pasta Bake and Ice cream and my first sit down in 15 hours. We enthusiastically clap in other finishers as we eat and eye the 100 finishers. Richard Lendon is there in a 100 T-Shirt. Richard is an inspiration to me and I know he doesn't have a happy history with this race so I'm chuffed on his behalf. Ultra running is an odd sport where people like me get to toe the line with the elite. this years 50 was the British Athletics Ultra Trail Running Championships. That is pretty much like me joining Mo Farah for the 10,000m at Crystal Palace. It also technically means that finishing in 298th I am one of the top 300 trail runners in  the UK*.

 *OK we know that’s not true... if only,

 Then its time for a Shower and bed. I hobble to tent back to the shower and back to the tent as the sky to the east start to lighten. I now pay the price for all that coke, as combined with all the adrenaline still coursing trough me sleep doesn't come but who cares. I have done the Lakeland 50 in a time I never dreamed possible! I lye in the tent until at 7am, I give up on sleep and join the queue for a bacon cob and a tea. I see a face I think I know, I thought it was Andy who I ran to Kentmere (Andy Jackson 63rd place in 33:37:50 top effort) with but its actually John Vernon who I finished the First Ring of Shap with some 6 weeks earlier. He explains he hasn't run in the event but is here supporting friends and he asks how I did and what’s next? I explain my 15hour finish time which I had no right to achieve and  I reel off a few races that have suddenly become possible which quite surprises me if not him. I have since entered 2 of them. How did that happen? As I return to the tent and get my chair out the car a bespectacled chap asks how I am feeling and reply that I am good and cant believe that I finished so well. Its only after he's left that the brain clicks and I realise its Mark. Opps fortunately I see him later to apologise!

Nothing left to do now but pack up the tent and head off, I slide away to Ambleside for coffee and cake and to phone home. Dad is immensely proud when I call, bless him he stay up till 3am with the text alerts to find out when I finished.  I hobble round Ambleside for half an hour and top up the bacon sandwich with Coffee and carrot cake. I phone Gary who had to drop out due to injury on there Thursday who is at Pooley Bridge. I then head up to join him and 32nd Nottingham BB who are camped there. Its retracing a journey I took 24 hours earlier. This time there are no butterflies and I am not emotional but I'm wearing a red T shirt, there is an slight sense of realisation and there is a Medal wedged in a slot on the dash board...

 I did it, I did it quickly, I don't quite believe it still and It also took 5 days before I could walk down hill normally.  I have the 1st September 2014 in the diary and I also seam to have entered 2 more ultras which covers the would I do it again question.

 That Night as I am introduced to the camp as a visitor, I am introduced as an Ultra Runner who has done the equivalent of Gold DofE in the day. The camps theme is Super hero's. I am asked 3 questions. Firstly, What is my strength surely after today its my determination to complete the goals that I set myself. Secondly my weakness, Setting appropriate goals for my self? Thirdly my super power? I say feet of Steel, did I mean quads of Steel or maybe I should have said flight.

 My Name is Richard (Ricky) Martin and Just maybe I am an ultra runner?