The Cleveland Way is a 110 mile national trail skirting the North York Moors National Park from Filey Brigg on the Coast to Helmsley in the heart of the Moors. It takes in an incredibly varying trail, from tiny fishing villages nestled at the bottom of cliffs home to thousands of nesting seabirds through to huge panoramas across wild and remote heather moors home to ancient abbeys and castles.
 |
That is a looooooong way.
My legs are going to hate me.
|
The whole route typically takes 7 to 12 days to walk and ascends cumulatively over 6,000 metres. The challenge of the Hardmoors 110 is to complete this monster of a trail in no less than 36 hours. It would be my hardest run to date, only my second hundred miler and a key element of my preparations for UTMB this summer. My goals were simple, to finish with a smile and hopefully with enough time to pack my bag for a morning flight to Tenerife the following day!
 |
| Some typical Hardmoors encouragement. |
I arrived at the start line feeling good having had an excellent preceding month of training however there were a few nerves due to the scale of the challenge and lingering memories of a painful experience at the Hardmoors 55 in March. I had my best crew yet in my corner with Bobby and Rachel on support and friends Ben and Paul on pacing duties from half way.
 |
It hadn't rained for weeks and the trails were bone dry
so I opted for my roads shoes from the start.
|
As Jon the race director delivered his race briefing up at the race start at Filey Brigg, a runner from the special ten year anniversary 200 mile distance came through and everyone applauded him. He'd been out since the previous morning and had already covered much of the Yorkshire Wolds before now starting along the Cleveland Way. We would be passing him along with many more hardcore 200 athletes on the route. Our race was to be merely the "fun-run" in comparison!
 |
| And they're off! At Filey Brigg |
|
| Nervous chat at the start but how many would finish? |
I started the race cautiously ensuring that my watch never ticked beyond ten minutes per mile (or at least I thought I did). I was feeling good and gradually moving through the field. So much so that my crew struggled to catch me, meaning I didn't see them for a little while. Every time they parked up, my tracker showed I had been through only moments earlier. When they did appear on the trail it was a brief high five before we could have a proper catch up at Ravenscar.
Here Bobby and Rach had checked in as it was one of the official crew checkpoints and were waiting for me in the village hall where they had cheese and ham butties ready for me. I restocked my electrolytes, smashed a sandwich and got moving quickly again. Legs moving well and feeling good, next stop Robin Hoods Bay in only four miles time.
By now the coastal trail was showing its full glory, hills and cliffs rising above the booming ocean below. The miles were being eaten up and I found myself alone on the trail. No matter though, as there was so much to occupy the mind with such a beautiful landscape.
Soon descending again to Robin Hoods Bay before climbing the steep hill to the checkpoint. I expected the guys to be there with more sandwiches but they had missed me again. It was a bit unnerving this time as I knew it would now be after Whitby until I saw them over ten miles away so I was in for a little longer without fuel than I had anticipated. A quick call to check everything was ok and we agreed to rendezvous at Sandsend at mile 36.
Just as Whitby appeared on the horizon a couple of friendly faces came into view. Sue and Terry my Aunt and Uncle had been sat waiting for me (for two hours apparently - a little premature but I love the enthusiasm). It was a real boost to see them at a stage when I sometimes suffer around 34 miles or so. They agreed to drive to Sandsend to meet up with me again and my crew.
Now the race was really on, could I negotiate the tourist hordes in Whitby and get to my crew before Aunty Sue demolished all my Jaffa Cakes!
Whitby was rammed and it was frustrating having to weave between the crowds but soon enough I was past the Abbey, down the 199 steps and back up to the whalebone arch. Soon I would be back with my crew which was a relief as I was now ready for a pit stop to refuel and regather, one third of the way in.
I was eating and drinking really well so far and it kept me feeling strong and my mood high. I was having a really good run and I said to Rachel that "today was a good day." Onwards to Runswick Bay on 41 miles.
Runswick Bay is one of my favourite beaches in the UK, perfect sands, nesting fulmars and a perfect fishing village nestled beneath the cliffs. Here the route traversed the beach and I caught two younger guys who I ran with for a while, grilling them about running in the alps as they had last summer both finished the tour of Monte Rosa (UTMR).
Soon we were climbing up to the car park together where my crew would again be waiting for me. This time I opted for rice pudding which I promptly poured all over my crotch much to the hilarity of my sister Rachel. For some reason she wasn't keen to help clean cold rice pudding from the crotch of a man who has just run 41 miles. Dereliction of crewing duty I hear you cry!
Apparently blood is thicker than water but not quite as thick as rice pudding...
I was sensing the first proper milestone approaching now at Saltburn which was ten miles away. Here I would be leaving the coast but picking up my first pacer Ben, and my crew were straight off to bring him to me.
All I needed to do was get myself there which was easier said than done. I needed a little help from an angel in a Hoka hat in Staithes after a wrong turn as she ran me back to the bridge where I needed to be having climbed too high too early.
Despite the wrong turn, I had now dropped the two young guys and wasn't seeing other runners at all save for the odd 200 competitor. The brave 200ers I passed I was always encouraging. Their thoughts would now be turning to their second night out and to be honest I wondered how many would make it through. Huge respect to all who toed the line on the 200, an awesome challenge in the true sense of the word. At least my suffering would be done by Sunday lunchtime all being well...
As I was alone in the countryside south of Saltburn my mind started to wander a little and I began to lose a little focus. I decided to switch on the phone, and attempt to read a little and run (not recommended). I had had so many messages of support on social media and text it gave me another real lift and helped me get back on track.
Friends and family were tracking me online and sending support it was really touching. It gave me energy and the next few miles were done so much more easily. Before long I was being clapped onto the beachfront at Saltburn where despite my early arrival, my trusty crew had delivered me my pacer right on time!
Ben would be pacing me to the foot of Captain Cooks monument in twelve miles or so. The section is almost all uphill and would include Roseberry Topping a mini mountain at the Northern Edge of the Moors. It was now 6pm so I piled down a load of food (sandwiches and crisps) mainly. I grabbed a banana for the journey and Ben and I were soon headed inland climbing all the way. Ben had been tracking my progress and was worried about keeping up but now with over fifty miles in my legs the feet were starting to feel a little heavy for the first time.
The miles ticked by well enough though as we chatted and trotted our way towards the hills. We passed the winning lady of the 200 on the climb out of Saltburn, Shelli Gordon who is a seriously impressive athlete. Ben rejoiced in the fact that he could enjoy running past her for a change!
I was by now pretty much hiking all the uphills but making steady progress and I had reached as high as twelfth place or so by this point. Not that it really mattered, I was enjoying the journey and stilfeeling strong.
Having a pacer really helped keep up the momentum, lift the mojo and keep focus. At my last and only other 100 at SDW100 I had noticed the advantage others with pacers had over me out on my own and it certainly helped me having a little friendly company along for the ride. Meanwhile it was time for my crew to snaffle some fish and chips and go ferry my second pacer Paul to me at Captain Cook.
After suffering a brief wobble with my stomach at Fox and Hounds (mile 57) which I staved off with the now battered banana, Ben and I were soon in familiar territory in the woods above Guisborough where we have run together lots. Now the light had started to fade and a low cloud had rolled in as we reached High Cliff Nab. I wondered how soon we would see Roseberry Topping in the clag but sure enough it began to loom out of the murk and struck an imposing sight as we started our descent towards the foot of the climb. The route had to ascend and descend this mini mountain before a final descent to Captain Cook where I would pick up my second pacer Paul.
It was on the climb that we were passed by a runner for the first time in hours. He was moving much stronger and I have to admit it did get me thinking about what the night might have in store.
As we descended to Gribdale Terrace from Roseberry it was just after nine and almost dark. Rach was hollering encouragement to us coming off the hill but I was starting to struggle a bit with the steep downhills now. I had run 65 miles and climbed a lot of hills with the dreaded three sisters still to come.
I had developed a hotspot on my left foot so I spent some time patching my feet, eating pot noodles, getting a change of clothing and replacing my road shoes for the Hokas which would hopefully provide a bit more protection underfoot.
Soon enough farewells were said and Paul and I fixed headtorches and headed off up to Captain Cooks monument and Kildale. No sooner had we set off than Ben came running up the trail to say I had forgot to refill my bottles and to remember to refill at Kildale. A schoolboy error but it shows how the brain gradually loses its sharpness on these long events. Another benefit of having a supportive crew around you to do your thinking for you!
Ben was now away home for a late bedtime. Legs still fresh enough for a respectable time at the North Lincs half marathon the next morning. Nicely done, I doff my running cap to you sir!
Duly recharged at Kildale (mile 68) Paul and I began our ascent into the remote moors and the desolate Bloworth Crossing. A place which is bleak in the day nevermind in poor visibility in the middle of the night. I was paranoid about missing an important turning up here and we almost did save for Paul stopping randomly to put on his hat. "Oh look there's the path right there!" Checking the Viewranger app on my phone we were sure we had the right track, a close call as no one wants to get lost up there in the dark with over 70 miles in their legs...
Once up on the moors we had a long tab to Clay Bank where our crew would be waiting again for a refuel before taking on the steep climbs over the three sisters (Cringle Moor, Cold Moor and Wainstones). Here there was a spectacular show of fairy lights, flumps and inflatable dinosaurs (including a particularly scary T-Rex when least expected) at the check point. Cheers guys best checkpoint on the whole route!
Unfortunately the mirth was short lived. It had become hard. I tried to eat some cereal here as I knew this next few miles could take an age in the cold and dark with such steep ups and downs to come. Paul was a real hero here helping me through this section as I went into my shell a little, I can't thank you enough buddy it would have been lonely and so much harder out there without you.
Somehow we negotiated the three sisters, the worst of the climbing now behind me. As we descended through the woods towards Osmotherley I first noticed a scarlet streak across the sky signalling the new day would soon be with us. All that remained was to climb up to square corner where we would see the crew again and from there its only 20 miles home.
As we ran through Osmotherley a torchlight came into view moving towards us. It was Pete, a friend who I had shared a tent with on a hike of the Welsh 3000s a couple of years ago. He had been crewing a friend who had dropped out.
Waking in the middle of the night at Osmotherley YHA he had seen from my tracker I was close, got dressed and come out to meet us with cherry tomatoes! Pete is one of my running heroes having come 3rd in the mighty spine race last year and rendezvousing with us at 3.30 am with tomatoes was typical of what a generous and some might say slightly crackers fellow he is. Thanks buddy what an ace surprise to see you. Pete's surprise appearance sparked an upturn in pace and Paul and I closed in strongly on Square Corner with the hoot of a tawny owl in the woods calling out as dawn was now breaking.
At square corner I was surprised to see Bobby with her trainers on and ready to go, to be honest I wasn't complaining, I was done with lonely miles for the weekend. Paul and I said our goodbyes and we were quickly off on the climb to Black Hambleton.
Unfortunately my guts were now on the revolt after a day of eating childrens party food and the dreaded squat to relieve myself on legs battered by 90 miles could be resisted no longer. Fortunately Bobby didn't mind (who said romance was dead) and as I looked back there was no one else around.
After the climb we did well combining the ultra shuffle on flats and downs with hiking uphill. A rather flat section passed by well as my mood lifted a little with the increasing daylight. It was nice to run with Bobby for a while rather than relying on her being my patient waitress and nurse all weekend. The journey to Sutton Bank passed quite nicely, I was well on track to get this done by lunchtime at the latest.
Unfortunately it was as we got to Sutton Bank that things changed for the worse. Rachel swapped with Bobby and joined me on the painful descent to the last checkpoint at White Horse. It seemed to take an age and despite the amazing encouragement offered at the checkpoint, my mojo hit an all time low. My feet were now blistered and complaining badly. It had been a long night and it seemed so long ago that I was happily ticking off the miles along the coast.
After hauling myself back up the dreaded steps and back along Sutton Bank I passed three or four runners coming the other way. They seemed close and looked so much stronger than I felt although they were in fact over a mile behind me at this point.
Rachel brought the car round as I decided to attend to my feet for the last ten miles at the roadside. I had run so far and so well, I was doing reasonably well in the rankings having not been passed all night and had proved to myself I can still be running after 100 miles. In the act of sitting down, removing my socks and seeing the blisters though my desire to race evaporated in that moment.
I knew I would get it done, but for some reason my desire to keep pushing hard simply evaporated. I drained two painful blisters which erupted what seemed like gallons of fluid onto my spanking new running jacket and I frankly didn't care.
After patching up with zinc tape I was hobbling away up the road in a rather strange mood. I confess from here I didn't once get into a shuffle never mind a canter. It was like a switch had been turned off. Rather than a march, the last ten miles to the finish turned into a saunter in the sunshine. Past beautiful Rievaulx Abbey and finally into Helmsley for the finish.
A few runners streamed past me and I didn't even blink never mind up the tempo. The race had taken its toll on my body but it was my mind which had faded, despite being amongst the first finishers I was one of the slowest over the last section.
Finally I was picking up the yellow signs which led to the finish at the Rugby Club. I hiked up the hill and did manage that smile at the finish. I had a great reception, applauded into the room by volunteers and fellow finishers. I admit my tired smile did turn to tears with a few kind words from Shirley Steele and an offer of some hot crumpets. It doesn't take much to set me blubbing when I've taken a battering like this one.
Congratulations to Jon and Shirley on ten years of the Hardmoors 110, what an incredibly special race series and community you have created. It has been awesome to run at so many of your brilliant events.
My finish position was 19th in 27 hours and 42 minutes, the missing mojo for the final section had cost me around forty minutes and six places. Of the 121 starters 84 had finished, respect to everyone who stood on the startline for this monster and the 200, tough to kill the lot of you!
After a week or so my feet have healed well and there are signs of life in my legs again. I have had a little time to reflect. On the whole I had a great run for so much of this race, I learned so much and put a few demons to bed. I can't help but think though that if I just believed in myself a little more I could have turned this run into something a little bit more special by just gritting it out a bit more at the end. I'm not sure really what happened but if you end up pacing me at a miler, you have my permission to kick my arse ALL the way to the finish line.
But hey its only my second go at the 100 mile distance so I'm going to focus on the positives and learn from the few negatives to be even stronger for my next one. To be honest I'm going to need all the help I can get because next time it will be at the greatest trail race in the world. Bring on UTMB!!!!
Love and hugs to my pacers Paul and Ben and especially to my amazing crew Rachel and Bobby who have been with me throughout my ultra running journey these last three years and suffered my boring trail running chat all this time.
This race feels like a real team effort and I am so grateful for your time, love, encouragement and energy. It was a monster but we tamed it together. This medal is shared so if any of you want to borrow it for blinging up a ball gown or a black tie outfit some time just let me know.
Can't sign off without thanking Rachel, Paul, Ben, the Chia Charge guys and Ann Brown for the use of the photos in this post. See you out there!
|
| My crew finally caught up with me! - Yes they had a car... |
 |
All smiles approaching Ravenscar at mile 22
Good to compare this with the last photo on this page :-(
|
By now the coastal trail was showing its full glory, hills and cliffs rising above the booming ocean below. The miles were being eaten up and I found myself alone on the trail. No matter though, as there was so much to occupy the mind with such a beautiful landscape.
Soon descending again to Robin Hoods Bay before climbing the steep hill to the checkpoint. I expected the guys to be there with more sandwiches but they had missed me again. It was a bit unnerving this time as I knew it would now be after Whitby until I saw them over ten miles away so I was in for a little longer without fuel than I had anticipated. A quick call to check everything was ok and we agreed to rendezvous at Sandsend at mile 36.
 |
Moving well and feeling strong, only 88 miles to go!
|
Now the race was really on, could I negotiate the tourist hordes in Whitby and get to my crew before Aunty Sue demolished all my Jaffa Cakes!
 |
| Jaffa power - who needs protein shakes? |
 |
Legends at Sandsend! - Thanks for turning out guys.
Sorry I made you miss the jumble sale Terry...
|
 |
| Cool and grey at Sandsend - Not a jellied eel in sight. |
Runswick Bay is one of my favourite beaches in the UK, perfect sands, nesting fulmars and a perfect fishing village nestled beneath the cliffs. Here the route traversed the beach and I caught two younger guys who I ran with for a while, grilling them about running in the alps as they had last summer both finished the tour of Monte Rosa (UTMR).
 |
You can just see me and my two fellow runners here after
having run the beach section at Runswick.
|
Soon we were climbing up to the car park together where my crew would again be waiting for me. This time I opted for rice pudding which I promptly poured all over my crotch much to the hilarity of my sister Rachel. For some reason she wasn't keen to help clean cold rice pudding from the crotch of a man who has just run 41 miles. Dereliction of crewing duty I hear you cry!
Apparently blood is thicker than water but not quite as thick as rice pudding...
 |
Still feeling good climbing out of Runswick - I love this place!
|
All I needed to do was get myself there which was easier said than done. I needed a little help from an angel in a Hoka hat in Staithes after a wrong turn as she ran me back to the bridge where I needed to be having climbed too high too early.
Despite the wrong turn, I had now dropped the two young guys and wasn't seeing other runners at all save for the odd 200 competitor. The brave 200ers I passed I was always encouraging. Their thoughts would now be turning to their second night out and to be honest I wondered how many would make it through. Huge respect to all who toed the line on the 200, an awesome challenge in the true sense of the word. At least my suffering would be done by Sunday lunchtime all being well...
As I was alone in the countryside south of Saltburn my mind started to wander a little and I began to lose a little focus. I decided to switch on the phone, and attempt to read a little and run (not recommended). I had had so many messages of support on social media and text it gave me another real lift and helped me get back on track.
Friends and family were tracking me online and sending support it was really touching. It gave me energy and the next few miles were done so much more easily. Before long I was being clapped onto the beachfront at Saltburn where despite my early arrival, my trusty crew had delivered me my pacer right on time!
 |
| Saltburn Selfie - where's the chippie? |
The miles ticked by well enough though as we chatted and trotted our way towards the hills. We passed the winning lady of the 200 on the climb out of Saltburn, Shelli Gordon who is a seriously impressive athlete. Ben rejoiced in the fact that he could enjoy running past her for a change!
I was by now pretty much hiking all the uphills but making steady progress and I had reached as high as twelfth place or so by this point. Not that it really mattered, I was enjoying the journey and stilfeeling strong.
 |
| The cavalry has arrived! - Nice new kicks Benj ya big poser... |
After suffering a brief wobble with my stomach at Fox and Hounds (mile 57) which I staved off with the now battered banana, Ben and I were soon in familiar territory in the woods above Guisborough where we have run together lots. Now the light had started to fade and a low cloud had rolled in as we reached High Cliff Nab. I wondered how soon we would see Roseberry Topping in the clag but sure enough it began to loom out of the murk and struck an imposing sight as we started our descent towards the foot of the climb. The route had to ascend and descend this mini mountain before a final descent to Captain Cook where I would pick up my second pacer Paul.
It was on the climb that we were passed by a runner for the first time in hours. He was moving much stronger and I have to admit it did get me thinking about what the night might have in store.
 |
| Ascending Roseberry Topping |
 |
| Ascending Roseberry Topping - faster runner coming through behind |
As we descended to Gribdale Terrace from Roseberry it was just after nine and almost dark. Rach was hollering encouragement to us coming off the hill but I was starting to struggle a bit with the steep downhills now. I had run 65 miles and climbed a lot of hills with the dreaded three sisters still to come.
I had developed a hotspot on my left foot so I spent some time patching my feet, eating pot noodles, getting a change of clothing and replacing my road shoes for the Hokas which would hopefully provide a bit more protection underfoot.
 |
| Job done Ben - Now where are those noodles!? |
Ben was now away home for a late bedtime. Legs still fresh enough for a respectable time at the North Lincs half marathon the next morning. Nicely done, I doff my running cap to you sir!
 |
| Trail warriors (reflective) |
 |
| Signs not good for an improvement in this blogpost.. |
Unfortunately the mirth was short lived. It had become hard. I tried to eat some cereal here as I knew this next few miles could take an age in the cold and dark with such steep ups and downs to come. Paul was a real hero here helping me through this section as I went into my shell a little, I can't thank you enough buddy it would have been lonely and so much harder out there without you.
 |
If you've managed to read this far you deserve a trophy, So here it is.
Haven't you got something better to be doing like descaling the kettle?
|
 |
| Cheers Paul, what a star running all night with me! |
Waking in the middle of the night at Osmotherley YHA he had seen from my tracker I was close, got dressed and come out to meet us with cherry tomatoes! Pete is one of my running heroes having come 3rd in the mighty spine race last year and rendezvousing with us at 3.30 am with tomatoes was typical of what a generous and some might say slightly crackers fellow he is. Thanks buddy what an ace surprise to see you. Pete's surprise appearance sparked an upturn in pace and Paul and I closed in strongly on Square Corner with the hoot of a tawny owl in the woods calling out as dawn was now breaking.
 |
Please be warned that the following section contains
mild terror, pus and defecation.
The squeamish may wish to cut to the end.
|
Unfortunately my guts were now on the revolt after a day of eating childrens party food and the dreaded squat to relieve myself on legs battered by 90 miles could be resisted no longer. Fortunately Bobby didn't mind (who said romance was dead) and as I looked back there was no one else around.
After the climb we did well combining the ultra shuffle on flats and downs with hiking uphill. A rather flat section passed by well as my mood lifted a little with the increasing daylight. It was nice to run with Bobby for a while rather than relying on her being my patient waitress and nurse all weekend. The journey to Sutton Bank passed quite nicely, I was well on track to get this done by lunchtime at the latest.
Unfortunately it was as we got to Sutton Bank that things changed for the worse. Rachel swapped with Bobby and joined me on the painful descent to the last checkpoint at White Horse. It seemed to take an age and despite the amazing encouragement offered at the checkpoint, my mojo hit an all time low. My feet were now blistered and complaining badly. It had been a long night and it seemed so long ago that I was happily ticking off the miles along the coast.
After hauling myself back up the dreaded steps and back along Sutton Bank I passed three or four runners coming the other way. They seemed close and looked so much stronger than I felt although they were in fact over a mile behind me at this point.
Rachel brought the car round as I decided to attend to my feet for the last ten miles at the roadside. I had run so far and so well, I was doing reasonably well in the rankings having not been passed all night and had proved to myself I can still be running after 100 miles. In the act of sitting down, removing my socks and seeing the blisters though my desire to race evaporated in that moment.
I knew I would get it done, but for some reason my desire to keep pushing hard simply evaporated. I drained two painful blisters which erupted what seemed like gallons of fluid onto my spanking new running jacket and I frankly didn't care.
 |
| If I see another damned Acorn!!! |
A few runners streamed past me and I didn't even blink never mind up the tempo. The race had taken its toll on my body but it was my mind which had faded, despite being amongst the first finishers I was one of the slowest over the last section.
Finally I was picking up the yellow signs which led to the finish at the Rugby Club. I hiked up the hill and did manage that smile at the finish. I had a great reception, applauded into the room by volunteers and fellow finishers. I admit my tired smile did turn to tears with a few kind words from Shirley Steele and an offer of some hot crumpets. It doesn't take much to set me blubbing when I've taken a battering like this one.
Congratulations to Jon and Shirley on ten years of the Hardmoors 110, what an incredibly special race series and community you have created. It has been awesome to run at so many of your brilliant events.
 |
| Computer says.......YES!!! |
 |
Is this the end, what day is it, am I even bovvered?
I need a lie down...
|
But hey its only my second go at the 100 mile distance so I'm going to focus on the positives and learn from the few negatives to be even stronger for my next one. To be honest I'm going to need all the help I can get because next time it will be at the greatest trail race in the world. Bring on UTMB!!!!
Love and hugs to my pacers Paul and Ben and especially to my amazing crew Rachel and Bobby who have been with me throughout my ultra running journey these last three years and suffered my boring trail running chat all this time.
This race feels like a real team effort and I am so grateful for your time, love, encouragement and energy. It was a monster but we tamed it together. This medal is shared so if any of you want to borrow it for blinging up a ball gown or a black tie outfit some time just let me know.
 |
| Hard earned bling this one... |
