Hardmoors 110 - 06/05/2017

Fortitudine Vincimus "By Endurance we conquer" - Sir Ernest Shackleton's family motto.

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.

My crew finally caught up with me! - Yes they had a car...

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.

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!

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! 

Jaffa power - who needs protein shakes?

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.

Legends at Sandsend! - Thanks for turning out guys.

Sorry I made you miss the jumble sale Terry...

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.

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!

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!

Saltburn Selfie - where's the chippie?

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.

The cavalry has arrived! - Nice new kicks Benj ya big poser...

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.

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!?

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!

Trail warriors (reflective)

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...

Signs not good for an improvement in this blogpost..

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.

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?

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. 

Cheers Paul, what a star running all night with me!

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.

Please be warned that the following section contains

mild terror, pus and defecation. 

The squeamish may wish to cut to the end.

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. 

If I see another damned Acorn!!!

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.

Computer says.......YES!!!

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!

Is this the end, what day is it, am I even bovvered?

I need a lie down...

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.

Hard earned bling this one...

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!

 

 

Hardmoors 26.2 Series Osmotherley - 22/05/2016

This would be marathon/ultra race number 14 since my first in October 2013.  Along the way there have been ups and downs and in a strange way it was almost like they were all encapsulated here in this one race.  There were certainly plenty of ups to contend with that's for sure...

New marathon bling - Yay!

I had been looking forward to this race for a wee while as its is part of the Hardmoors 26.2(ish) series which are brilliant trail marathons with challenging routes in the North York Moors.  This one was no different.

The route takes in some of the most scenic parts of the Cleveland Way from Osmotherley, over the Three Sisters and then out on a loop deep into the Moors taking in the pretty village of Chop Gate before finally heading back through pretty woodland trails to finish back in Osmotherley.

I know the route well as I have clocked a lot of miles over the Three Sisters in training and as part of the route of the Hardmoors 55 ultra last year.  Ben and I had an epic recce only a month earlier in apocalyptic weather which in hindsight proved to be good preparation.  It would be a tester, with over 5,000 feet of ascent and particularly with Hardmoors miles tending to be on the long side (this race was about 28.5 miles long!).

My old buddy Ben was also excited to have a crack at another Hardmoors marathon after we had such a blast at Roseberry Topping in December.  When he finally gets round to running a road marathon, he will get a personal best by at least two hours such is the toughness of these routes!

Unlike at Roseberry though, this time we would be running separately which would be a new dimension to the challenge for Ben particularly as we wouldn't be able to support each other on the way round.

Ben rocking his Scunthorpe HM shirt!
Photo credit: Paul Munster

After the race briefing, Jon the race director led us up to the race start at the top of the village and we were soon on our way climbing into the woods on the first of many steep ascents.  I set off quickly as I knew the first of the big climbs was a few miles away and I was keen to get some momentum early on.  The strong sun made it seriously hot work on the climbs as we left the cover of the trees onto the open Moor.

Hot day on the beautiful Moors!
Photo credit: Chris P Rice

Good progress was made for the first ten miles or so before a steep climb back up from the aid station (and some restorative coke) onto the spectacular Wainstones.  Here hiking up became a quicker tactic than running the steep hills.  We crossed runners coming the other way who were yet to tackle the climb and we high fived on the way past.  The camaraderie on these events is superb with everyone being so friendly and willing each other on.  I got a little lift from the others as we cheered each other on as we crossed.  I looked for Ben, but he was making such good progress himself he wasn't that far behind so I didn't cross over with him.

Photo credit: Paul Munster

After a short climb after the Wainstones, the route heads into the Moors proper before descending to Chop Gate.  As I arrived in the village, I had started to feel very weary which was worrying with so far yet to go.  I passed bikers sat drinking beers in the sunshine outside the Buck Inn which didn't improve my now ebbing morale.

The long climb out of Chop Gate is the longest of the day and seriously draining on tired legs.  It was here where I was first struck with some seriously debilitating cramp which started in the calves and gradually spread to my hamstrings and quads.  I have experienced cramp off and on in sport for my whole life but this was as bad as I've ever experienced, worse even than I've had on much longer ultras.

Suffice to say that my early good work was rapidly undone as I was reduced to an agonised walk/hobble and even at some points a complete standstill.  I was caught by quite a few runners on Barkers ridge as we started the long journey back towards the Cleveland Way and home.  Fair play to them, every runner who passed me asked to make sure I was ok.

Matching blisters - Summer trails are definitely harder on the plates of meat!

I struggled on like a wounded animal for the last eleven miles as the cramp just wouldn't let up.  I have to admit that it did take the edge off my enjoyment of the race despite the stunning scenery as I was in a lot of pain for the last two hours of the race.  My mood was briefly lifted when I was joined by a beautiful fox cub on the woodland trail who no doubt found me to be a curious creature cursing and limping through the woods.

It was a relief to finally round the last few corners into the outskirts of Osmotherley village where another old friend Chris had hiked a little way up the trail to take this picture of me suffering.

Grimace for the camera! Photo credit: Chris Pickwell

Thankfully, a few minutes later I was relaxing with a beer in the sunshine with Chris as we waited for Ben to arrive.

Way sooner than either of us were expecting, a topless bearded warrior came thundering down the High Street as Ben finished looking very strong.  It was great to see him do so well and also to see him progress over the last year, he seems to get stronger now with every race.

By the time he joined us at the pub the memories of the pain had already started to fade and we were soon trading stories of what had been an epic run.

As I write this my legs are still extremely tender from the prolonged cramping.  I'm refusing to feel too discouraged though.  I'm putting it down to a combination of heat, the quick start, a big effort the previous weekend at the North Lincs Half and not enough recent conditioning in the hills.

I've still got time to do something about the latter before the Ultimate Trails 110k in the Lakes in July. As with all ultras, it is 100% guaranteed to hurt, but a little easier on the cramps would be a start!

Once again, a big thanks to the Hardmoors family. The organisers, volunteers and everyone else involved without whom these brilliant races could not happen. What a special trail running community this is.  I can't wait to be joining you all again for some more punishment soon!

The Haworth Hobble (Wuthering Hike) - 12/03/2016

Out on the wiley, windy moors - Kate Bush

The first race of 2016 and a true test.  A classic route taking in 32 miles of mud and hills in Bronte country, the beautiful West Yorkshire Pennines.

Since the start of last winter I confess its been a battle to maintain motivation to run at the same mileage levels I seemed to manage in the first half of 2015.  I seem to have had one illness after another and the ankle is still a long way off 100%.  To add to that I didn't get a number for the UTMB and after much consideration I also decided to withdraw from my Plan B race, the Hardmoors 110, because of the enforced route change (due to a clash on the same weekend with a load of inconsiderate bikeists on the Tour of Yorkshire).  All in all, there have been quite a few factors which have knocked my running mojo and I was hoping to at least partially rediscover it somewhere out there in the Hills of Bronte country.

The route started on the High Street in picturesque Haworth and then after an initial climb headed West on a long and fast descent passing several reservoirs in beautiful remote countryside.  My pace felt pretty good for the first half and there were plenty of veterans around to follow avoiding having to slow down for route finding and mapwork. I was particularly pleased to be around others who knew where they were going when the route descended through winding tracks and back gardens at one stage.  All in all reasonably good progress was made.

Beautiful Scenery in Bronte Country

The true challenge of this route was still to come though with the ground going from soft to heavy and two mighty climbs up to Stoodley Pike and then out of Mankinholes which all must be done on very tired legs.  Unsurprisingly it was here that I started to struggle, the climbs just seemed to take more out of my legs than usual making it really hard to pick the pace up again after each.  My momentum was lost and I never really managed to get moving at a reasonable pace again.

A slower pace meant I was running with a few folk for a change instead of on my own in the lonely 'no mans land' I sometimes find myself in.  I was grateful for the company, to chat and particularly when the others could point out the right direction.  I would definitely have got lost without them. There were still a couple of points where the lack of route knowledge caught up with me, notably in the last few hundred yards where I ran past a turnoff and lost quite a few places (but not much time).

It had been a fantastic route with incredible views, however I'm afraid to admit the end couldn't come soon enough for my aching body and slightly bruised ego.  I finished way outside the time I had hoped for but at least I understand why.  I'm just not as strong as I was this time last year, but hopefully there will be brighter times and better runs ahead for me in 2016.  

One of the major draws for this race was to see an area of Northern countryside I have never visited and to have a crack at a classic race I had heard so much about. It wasn't my best run and I'm not sure whether my mojo has been restored, but I have to say it really was worth the aching legs to see this beautiful part of the country, for the princely race entry fee of £13!

Would I do it again, definitely but I'll be aiming for a much stronger performance next time...

2015 A Badger's Running Year

Memories take us back, dreams take us forward.

In 2015 I've upped the ante.  I didn't quite make my 2,000 mile target due to injury (1,879 to be precise) but I still ran harder, further and faster than I've ever done before.

Three tough ultras, three trail marathons, one sprained ankle with a road marathon and a wee half thrown in for good measure.

The memories quickly fade which is why writing these little blogs has been so useful.  To remind myself of the highs and learn from the lows.

March - A chilly Hardmoors 55 and ultra number 3 for me

2015 Worst bits

• Sat slumped in the mud and rain 20 miles from my car after just spraining my ankle on a miserable recce of the Hardmoors 60.
• Two weeks moping about my UTMB chances slipping away with my injury.
• A hungover and bruising experience at the Rombalds Stride.
• Crawling (literally) out of bed the morning after the SDW100.

2015 Best bits

• Emerging into the lights of Helmsley and finishing strong at the Hardmoors 55.
• Smashing the 24 hour barrier in my first 100 miler at the SDW100.
• Incredible ultra trail running experiences meeting new people and discovering some epic trails all over the country. 
• Running through the pain barrier at the Hardmoors 60, three weeks after the sprained ankle and completing my UTMB points haul.
• Settling an old score with a road marathon pb in York.
• Running with my buddies at the North Lincs Half and the Roseberry Topping Trail Marathon.

Tough to see how I can top that lot next year.  A few races in the diary already but a lot rests on the UTMB ballot.  If I get lucky, I'm going to need to dream bigger again next year.  Its hard to imagine because its been tough at times this year both physically and mentally.

But hey, nothing worth having is won easily right? 

Hardmoors 26.2 Series Roseberry Topping - 13/12/2015

'In the depth of winter I finally learned that within me there is an invincible summer' - Albert Camus

So to my eighth and final race of 2015, a hilly winter marathon with a good mate for company looking to crack his first 26.2!

I am a huge fan of Jon Steele's Hardmoors Series having completed the Hardmoors 55 and 60 ultras earlier this year.  The races are well organised, relaxed and friendly and it just so happens they are all held up the road from me in the beautiful North York Moors.

So what better way to make your first foray into long distance trail running than a Hardmoors marathon for one of my oldest buddies Ben.

We arrived in time for the race briefing where we learned that Jon had thrown in an extra four miles or so to ensure we would get full value for money!  This would take the distance beyond 30 miles and towards the official 50km ultra distance - what an awesome (if unorthodox) way to break your marathon duck for him.

The briefing ended with a brilliant round of applause for hero ultra runner Dennis Potton who was amongst the runners on the day.  Dennis had found time to save a drowning child on his way to the finish of the Hardmoors 60 in September.

The sun had started to rise above the Moors as we left Guisborough Sea Cadets and made the first sticky, muddy ascent to High Cliff Nab on the Cleveland Way.  We were greeted by a spectacular sight as the sun lit up a snow crusted landscape with cloud enveloping the valley bottoms.  Wow, it doesn't get much better than conditions like this in December.

After taking us up Roseberry Topping (twice) and then on to Captain Cook's monument we made good progress on the frozen ground through Kildale and then up onto the High Moors.  A tough long climb then before leaving the Cleveland Way and descending East to Castleton and Commondale. The sun continued to shine all morning illuminating incredible frosty views in every direction.

Whilst receiving our punishment on Roseberry Topping, Rachel, Bobby and Simon were taking on the '10km' route which was actually closer to 9 miles!

Simon, Rachel and Bobby ready to go - Photo credit Suzanne Dunn

Well done ladies on your first trail race, and massive good luck to Simon taking on the mighty Marathon des Sables in 2016!

Our final climb back up onto the High Moor came after Commondale and by now the snow was melting fast in the sunshine leaving deep freezing puddles which Ben found soothing on his battered feet and I found plain horrible!  By now our pace had slowed a little but we determined to finish and it was a relief to finally reach the woods high above Guisborough as the light of the day began to fade a little.  Here we were caught by an experienced runner training for the Spine race in January, one of the world's toughest ultramarathons.  He was so impressed by learning Ben was taking on this tough challenge as his first marathon he had to stop in his tracks and shake him by the hand!

It was good to run hard down into Guisborough where we were cheered by waiting Bobby with our friends Chris and Becki who had arrived in time to cheer us home.  I didn't detect the shiny eyes promised by Ben at the finish line but I know we were both proud of finishing this tough run and it was a privilege to be there with him throughout his first marathon.  Massive respect buddy, that was a hard route to pick for your first one and you pushed it all the way to the end even when it got really tough.  I hope it will be the first of many for you!

Tough to kill! - Photo credit Chris Pickwell

Congratulations to the Hardmoors family (runners and volunteers) who created another brilliant event with excellent organisation, aid stations and most importantly that special friendly vibe.  I'll certainly be back for more in 2016 and hopefully with friends again too!

The Montane Howgills Trail 26 - 17/05/2015

"Climb the mountains and get their good tidings" - John Muir

I had been really looking forward to this race all year.  A marathon in the magnificent Howgill Fells.

The Howgills are great saddleback hills separating the famous Lakeland Fells and the smaller hills and valleys of the Yorkshire Dales.  The area is quiet and beautiful and I have visited for hiking before and knew it would make great trail running country. Mountains are a passion and I was excited to experience the biggest hills I have run yet.

The race starts and finishes in the pretty town of Sedbergh and is organised by the same guys who put on the famous Lakeland 100 ultra.  What works for them as a warm up has got to be good enough for me and my prep for the South Downs Way 100 which is my A race this year.

Cool shirt memento

I made an early start driving over from York and arrived to grey skies but high cloud.  It was cool if a little breezy, all in all not bad for running.

We were led from the race hq down to the start line by a lone bagpiper which was a nice touch although I'm not sure what the locals would have made of a load of lunatics and a piper disturbing their Sunday morning peace.

The first five miles are tough climbing straight out of Sedbergh, up to Winder and then the Calf at 674m in height.  The going here was tough and the wind had grown stronger and colder.  For the steepest sections the most effective tactic was to simply stick your backside out and hike to save some gas for the remaining 20 miles or so.

Once the top is reached the brakes come off for a brilliant technical rocky descent across remote terrain into Bowderdale. The trail was pretty wet and I managed to catch and pass a few runners here making a meal of the mud and standing water by simply ploughing on through - great fun!

Awesome Howgills trails

Now in the valley bottom there were a few muddy miles meandering over to Ravenstonedale and then another hard climb on quiet roads on the flanks of Harter Fell.

The next section for me was the best part of the day.  Just as you drag yourself wearily to the top of the climb you were rewarded with a spectacular flying descent back down to the River Rawthay in the shadow of Cautley Spout. This section was just awesome with the Howgills looming over you and some truly spectacular views of this rugged and special place.

It sounds weird I know for a tough marathon in the mountains that I actually felt sad at this point that the race would all be over in an hour or so.  I'm not sure I've had this much fun in a trail race before.

Soothing stream crossing after 20 odd miles of tough trail

Soon we were following the river home via some cooling stream crossings (bliss on the now battered feet) to finish on the town playing fields in Sedbergh.

I came in 26th in 4.26 out of 159 runners

A great route which was well marked, beautiful mountains and a brilliant little adventure.  I even managed to miss out on my usual fall.   The Howgills were everything I was expecting and more. Thanks to the Trail 26 guys for organising a fab race, for all the jelly babies and for a couple of the photos used here.

So thats it then, the next race will be the big one.  100 miles and 4,000m of ascent along the South Downs Way in only three weeks or so.  It seems mad to see such big numbers in black and white but I'm going to give it everything I've got.  If I have half as much fun as I have had in all the training and preparations this year I'll be ok.

DNF or glory, I'll see you on the other side....

Hardmoors 55 21/03/2015

"After climbing a great hill, one only finds that there are many more hills to climb." - Nelson Mandela

The Hardmoors 55 is a 55 mile ultramarathon run over part of the Cleveland Way from Guisborough to Hemsley along some of the most spectacular scenery in the North York Moors. It climbs over 2,700 metres in total and would be my third ultra.

I've put in a lot of hard training miles over the winter but there's nothing like that mix of nerves and excitement you get leading up to a big race day.

My sister Rachel had kindly offered to drive me which saved a super early start to catch the bus from Helmsley and time spent hanging around at the start.  In the end I had 45 minutes to get my number, kit checked and smash some porridge before the start.  The atmosphere at the Sea Cadets Hall was buzzing as Jon Steele the race director gave the briefing and told everyone the drill if they broke both their arms and legs and assured everyone there wouldn't be any DNFers.

Pre race fueling!

Having recently tested my merino baselayer on a hilly recce, I made a late decision to wear a better wicking long sleeve top and carry the merino.  It just about packed into my race vest alongside the other mandatory kit items.  There was quite a long list of required kit due to the arctic conditions in which this race has been run previously.

Thankfully for me, the weather was kind this year. Dry, but cloudy with a blustery Northerly which would have been cold for marshals and aid station volunteers but made for quite nice conditions for running.

Pausing for the important prerace selfie with Rach and Bobby meant I missed the start!  I ended up joining the back of the queue to climb the stairs onto the old railway line.  We soon joined the Cleveland Way heading for the first climbs of the day. Rach and Bobby had already headed off for a brew and to meet up with three new members of my support crew for this race, mum, dad and Hally the border collie.

The race has already started dumbass!

The first major obstacle of note is Roseberry Topping and the leaders came flying down as I started my climb.  I had not been to this part of the North York Moors before and I was blown away by the views to the bleak moors and down into the fields of Yorkshire around 360 degrees.  No time to waste though so I pushed on down and then up again to Captain Cooks monument and soon found myself in the tiny village of Kildale (12 miles) where we expected to find our dropbags.  Due to a problem of some sort the bags had not arrived and would instead be 10 miles further on.  This suited me fine as the hundred weight of porridge I had consumed was still providing sufficient fuel so I stopped briefly to refill the bottles and was soon on my way again.

After Kildale, the route heads into a remote part of the Moors climbing steadily to Blowarth Crossing.  The trail was compact here and I felt good momentum building after the early climbs.  I thought about how rough it must get here in the winter and how challenging it must have been in those years when the weather was far less accommodating.  From Blowarth the route turns West to climb Round Hill where you can look back to Roseberry Topping and the distance you have covered and ahead to the challenge still to come.  It was around this point my knees had started to grumble a little.  It was still early in the race, and I hoped that it wasn't a return of my previous problems as this would surely mean a painful grind to a DNF.  Nothing could be done but keep going for now and soon we were descending to Clay Bank (21 miles) where my dropbag and family were waiting for me.  Here Rach and Bobby swarmed around me like an F1 pit crew replacing bottles and food as I wolfed down some rice pudding.

Pit Stop Clay Bank

From here to Osmotherley is easily the hardest part of the route as it ascends and descends the beautiful, brutal rollercoaster of Hasty Bank, Wain Stones, Cringle Moor and Carlton Bank.  I knew what was coming as I had already recced this section.  With 20+ miles and 4 hours of running already behind me there was little more to do than to hike up and down as fast as I could and run the short distances between the hills.  This tough section takes a lot out of the legs and there was a reality check of what I had taken on when it struck home that I was only half way.  Nevertheless it was such a help to have run this section before and it was great that the guys were there again to say Hi at Lord Stones and help me stretch my now intermittently cramping calves (thankfully the knees didn't get any worse).  Despite the battering, it is impossible not to be uplifted by the beauty here and I focused on the knowledge that Osmotherley would be reached very soon after the hilly torture subsided where it would be possible to eat, drink and regroup.

Not this blogpost you mean! - A bit of ultra encouragement

Off again, leaving Lordstones checkpoint

Entering the Village Hall at Osmotherley (32 miles) I was immediately handed my drop bag by one of the young volunteers there and took a seat.  There were a few tired bodies and glum faces around and I resolved to be in and out of there sharpish.  I wasn't massively hungry but I wanted to try to eat.  I had decided to experiment with falafel as a nice savoury fuel, I popped one in my mouth and immediately realised my mistake.  What little moisture was left in my mouth immediately disappeared and I was left parched, trying to swallow what felt like a small garlicky birds nest.  I soon gave up on falafel. I glugged down some coke, refilled the bottles, grabbed some Clif Blocks, and was out and on my way again all within 4 minutes or so. 

Some of the chat around this race was that the hard work is all done before Osmotherley so i was looking forward to some easy running now, however this was not to be.  The next few miles are hard work as you regain height.  Rachel and Bobby met me coming the other way at Square Corner and were surprised at how soon I had arrived.  With some much needed words of encouragement I headed on uphill alone with a few spots of rain starting to fall, with grey clouds now darkening overhead and my mood doing the same. It was starting to get hard and I wasn't really prepared mentally for this climb. It was the toughest part of the day.

Starting the lonely climb to Whitestones

I dug in and waited for the low to pass.  Thankfully the summit of Whitestones was soon reached and the long awaited descent appeared.  It was a relief to get some momentum and my mood lifted immenseley.  I felt like I was flying all the way to the next checkpoint at High Paradise Farm (39.5 miles) even though in reality i was probably only running 10 minute miles. It's amazing how lows can be so quickly followed by highs in these events.  I stopped briefly for a gob full of jelly babies and another bottle refill.  From here I was on home turf as I knew the route.  I was going to get this thing done now, it was just a matter of time.  I felt great and said so when I bumped into the folks next near Sneck Yate where I stopped briefly for a glug of coke and a chat. The view from here was breathtaking as the grey sky broke briefly for shafts of late afternoon sunshine to light up the Vale of York.  From here I knew there must only be 15 miles or so to Helmsley and most of my climbing was now behind me.

Sunshine at last! - Near Sneck Yate

Feeling good and some fatherly words of wisdom!

It wasn't all plain sailing though, the steep descent to the final check point at White Horse (45 miles) was torture on my now trashed legs.  Far worse in fact than the much feared steps back up to Sutton Bank. Turning away from Sutton Bank I caught up with a fella struggling a little with route finding near the busy road.  We chatted for a while and I was amused to find he was from Messingham only a few miles from where I was brought up.  We ran and chatted together for a while as the evening started to draw in.  He stopped for a call of nature and I cracked on descending to Rievaulx.  I strapped on the headtorch for the last few miles as it was getting increasingly difficult to be sure of safe footing, then started my final push for the finish line, through the tiny hamlet, up the hill and into the woods.

A few minutes later, I was emerging out of the black with the lights of Helmsley twinkling not far away. The spectacular ruined Castle all lit up and beckoning me to the finish. Emerging onto the streets of Helmsley I even found some energy to kick for the last few hundred yards to the finish at the Town Hall.  I had done it.  Two and a bit off road marathons and twice the height of Ben Nevis in 10hrs and 22 minutes.

The race had been won in a mind blowing 7hrs and 39 mins by 2014 British Athletics ultra trail champ Kim Collison.

A little battle scarred but still smiling

As we headed home in the car, we saw twinkling headtorches making their way along Sutton Bank.  My adventure was over and I felt a little jealous of the runners still out there with a large chapter of their story still to be written. Great job by everyone who finished this tough race from first to last.

Thanks to the Hardmoors family for putting together a brilliant event, I'll definitely be back for some more hilly punishment.  Just let me get my legs working again first! Thanks too to my amazing family for supporting me all the way to the finish.

In a shocking twist of fate Hardmoors ultramarathons turn out to be hard.

Knowledge of this route from recce runs and walks with Bobby helped me so much mentally and enabled me to keep my spirits up when the going got tough.  As a result, I have decided to make the long journey down to Brighton to recce the second half of my next big race.

Next up, a few shorter races, not least the North Lincolnshire Half Marathon with a load of my old muckers and the Trail 26 race in the Howgills.  Really though, everything from here is geared towards the mighty South Downs Way 100 in June. 

Thanks to Rach and dad for use of the photos!