In the morning, it had stopped raining but it was still very windy. I was up early and got everything sorted and re-packed ready to go. Paul had taken the tent down before I had even been for a wee... so all the packing was done in the windswept carpark. I was really worried I would forget something hidden in among the 'stuff' in the car.
The Lakes Traverse competitors set off while I was eating my breakfast. I felt sick with nerves. No idea how this was going to go, how far I was going to get and what state I would be in. At long last, it was time time to head out onto the grassy area by the beach, I joined the huddle of runners using the toilet block to shelter from the wind. I spotted a friend Neil (King) and went for a chat, I had seen his name on the entry list, but thought it couldn't possibly be the same guy – but it was! I also found Ben and wished him luck.
105 runners set off on the Coast to Coast path, and straight into the first climb! The cliff top path was narrow, muddy and very slippy. I had chosen comfort over grip, so was wearing my Salomon Ultraglide and was slithering about all over the place. The strong wind was blowing in land (thank god) but still was not helping and I didn't like it much at all. I was quite relived when we turned inland towards Sandwith. Somehow, we had a headwind? Easy roads and paths took us through the quaint valley of Nanny Catch and on to Ennerdale Bridge, there was a water top up point here and I noticed people were already stopping to check their feet. By now, my nerves had calmed and I had settled into a steady, but slow, rhythm. I was making extra sure to drink a little and eat a little every 30 mins, bonking is not going to end well!
We reached Ennerdale Water, the route was slightly more sheltered but the water was choppy and the path long and picky. The scramble over Robin Hoods Chair was much easier than I remembered it and quite fun really. The next section, up through Ennerdale Forest was again sheltered, but a little dull. I trotted the flat bits and walked the uphill, ate a Peperami – nearly choked on the darn thing!
I was surprised at how many of the Lakes Traverse people I caught up with and then overtook! I had started to count them, but gave up once I got past 10.
We passed Black Sail Hut, I didn't stop, I could remember the path through the drumlins being vague when I hiked the route 20 years ago, it was still vague and I ended up on a higher path instead of staying in the valley bottom. It didn't matter route wise, but oh my god the wind! You could hear it coming, banging as it blasted through the valley before knocking you off your feet! More than once I found myself crouched on the ground for stability and I wasn't even out on the exposed bit yet. The wind tore my number-bib from my leggings, I fastened it back on twice before giving up and shoving it in my pocket so I didn't lose it (the one on my rucksack didn't last a mile before it was torn and in my pocket).
Topping out of Loft Beck left us with no protection from the wind, literally walking at a 45 degree angle to make any progress, it was horrible. I fought my way over the fell to the old tramway and eventually dropped far enough to be able to breathe again. The route passes by the Honister Slate Mine, some folk stopped here for coffee but I thought I'd wait til the check point, only a short way down into the valley.
I found the check point at Stonethwaite, eventually, some disagreement between the map and GPX nearly had me going off in the wrong direction. I was a little bit disappointed in the check point. There was nowhere inside to sit and even at this level in the valley it was really windy. Anyway, I had a slice of pizza, 3 sandwiches, rice pudding and tea. Topped my water up too. I didn't hang around too long and was soon heading up the stony track beside Stonethwaite Beck. It was very wet underfoot but uneventful, it got quite steep up Greenup Gill before topping out and I continued to pass people. I think I was pushing the uphills a little too hard as I was feeling queasy. I had been a bit worried about this bit as 20 years ago we nearly came unstuck in the mix of bog and mist. Today however, it was clear with excellent visibility and the path has had quite a lot of work done on it so it was now mostly paved. Usually I don't particularly like the paved paths, but this made for rapid progress. I walked and talked with a chap for a while. As ever, I was faster up the ups and flats and he was faster on the downs. We headed towards Grasmere without actually visiting the town. Dusk was gathering, so we joined another pair of runners who were sat on a wall having a snack stop. Here we put on our headtorches ready and I had a jelly-pot as I hadn't eaten in too long.
Darkness fell as we made our ascent of the Tongue, mostly in silence. Again, I pushed on overtaking several people on the stone path. I didn't really want to be 'at the front' as I wasn't 100% certain where I was going, but they insisted on letting me by. Suddenly, I was on the shore of Grisedale Tarn, the wind whipping up waves on the small body of water, it was actually a little unnerving being able to hear the crashing water just out of the headtorch beam. A couple of quick map checks kept me right and it wasn't complicated at all. There were another couple of headtorches ahead of me, I tried to catch them up but the ground got very steep and loose and I am rubbish at descending on that terrain so they slipped away into the darkness. Again we were exposed to the full force of the wind and I had a few more moments of crouching and clutching the ground to prevent accident.
Eventually, I got down on to better ground. I caught up with Neil and we chatted as we power hiked into the next checkpoint at Patterdale. It was now 11pm, we'd been on the go since 8:30am.
I felt queasy, but managed some chips and fruit crumble. A virtual friend from Facebook, Sarah Francis, was there helping out, so that was good to meet her for the first time.
There had been rumours of a 'bad weather alternative route' which would avoid Kidsty Pike, the highest point of the route. I had decided that if the normal route was being used, then I would sleep here and tackle it in daylight. If the alternative route was in force, then I would continue. I had mixed feelings when I found the alternative was indeed in force. Part of me wanted to do Kidsty Pike, but the other part though it was very dangerous in the current conditions. The only problem now was that I didn't have the GPX of the new route and our Harvey strip maps didn't cover it. The GPX had been sent out by email on Friday – after I had already left the house and I don't have my email account on my phone. Thankfully, another chap showed me the route on his phone and I was able to manually plot it on OS maps and download it to use off-line. A bit of hassle I could have done without!
It was now raining and cold so I put on another layer and my waterproof trousers and headed out into the night. It was wild! The first bit of the route still went up and over Boredale Hause. I caught up with another pair of ladies and we yelled at each other over the wind and torrential rain. Between us, we naved that bit successfully and made it safely down a very greasy rocky descent to finally meet an easier metalled lane. It was gentle downhill and slightly dull so made for gentle trotting. The alternative route was mostly easy to follow, roads and farm tracks. It was wet underfoot and still very windy, periodically it would piss down with cold, stinging rain.
At some point, I caught up with the chap from earlier, he was called Rupert I found later and he was with two other people, Robin and another lady who's name I thought I knew but now I can't find her on the results list. I settled into pace with them, the silent company was appreciated, we were about 50 miles in and I was having a grump. We all took in turns to fall over in the bog on Askham Fell, then a long dull road section took us back to the main route and we made it into Shap at 06:44 on Sunday morning.
It was still pouring with rain and I noticed the waterproof case on my phone had more than a dribble of water in it, shit.
We spent a while at Shap, well, about 45 mins really. Long enough to force down chilli and rice and have a poo! Still felt queasy.
I had tipped the water out of my phone case, but it was too late it was already dead. Shortly after leaving Shap, my watch died too (just a flat battery) so I missed recording that bit. I had hoped to record the whole thing in one go, recharging at check points, but it wasn't to be.
Rupert had done this part of the route before and naved most of it from memory. I had the supplied Harveys strip map, but I have to say it was not great for navigating!
The rain stopped after a while, but it was still windy and oh so muddy underfoot. A lad from earlier, Irish Shayne, overtook us on the way up Beacon Hill. We did also stop for a snack behind the shelter of a wall, seems Rupert was as bad as me when it comes to eating on the go! We caught Shayne again though before we reached Sunbiggin. It took forever to get to Smardale and even longer still to get to Kirkby Stephen. We had no idea where the school was, our next checkpoint, but thankfully a marshal was outside on the street and she guided safely into the building. It took a while to remove wet, disgusting trainers and waterproofs before we could go upstairs (up stairs??!!) to get food and rest.
I tried to eat, but the mac n cheese they offered was full of mushrooms! Yuk! Who puts mushrooms in a mac n cheese?! I was totally beat and desperate for sleep. Rupert thought he was probably going to DNF here, but was undecided. I contemplated it briefly, but thought sleep was actually what I needed so I headed down to the sports hall were the huge tents were set up to look like some weird space colony and managed to get about 1.5 hours kip. I wanted longer, but had to get up to pee and the thought of going over Nine Standards Rigg was making me nervous so I decided to get up.
I had already texted and rung Paul from Rupert's phone, I could later check the time as my tracker print off said we got to Kirkby Stephen at 21:24 but it was really about half 3 in the afternoon. Time was now getting on but I needed to eat and check my feet. I had some hot rice pudding with sliced banana in, and finally stopped feeling sick, hurrah! My feet had been all white and wrinkly when I arrived but they had dried out nicely I had one small blister which I popped and dressed. Not bad to say I had been on my feet in the wet for 80 miles.
Rupert was still there when I got up, he had decided to DNF. He lives in the Cotswolds so had a fairly complicated journey home, but would be in his own bed in 24 hours time. I was slightly jealous. I thanked him for his company and wished him safe travels then I slipped out into the night, clutching my map.
The night was clear, still a bit windy but not as bad as before. Not too cold as I made the long climb towards the Nine Standard Rigg. I had intended to recce this section as I knew the bog crossing could be treacherous but that was the weekend Paul was in hospital so I had never made it. The path from Kirkby Stephen up to the Rigg was actually a good track, I even kept my fresh socks dry for some time before they inevitably got soaked again. The cairns themselves looked quite spooky in my torch light. I got here at 23:30 Sunday night and it's only now, writing this that I realise how long I must have spent at Kirkby Stephen, even though I only had 1.5 hours sleep.
I had noted a headtorch coming up the track behind me, and as I stood at the cairns taking a bearing ready to head into the bog, the person attached to the torch caught me up. She introduced herself as Lynsey. I asked if she was ok to buddy up as this bit was horrible, I did explain that as my phone had died I had no GXP to follow. She said that was fine and off we went together. She naved like a pro, really good. I was so very grateful to have her help and she in turn was glad of my company and I am quite good at bog hopping. I had to move fast to keep up with her! It felt like we were going round in circles, but when I look at the map trace we were spot on. While I probably would have made it on my own by compass, it would have taken me ages and would have been horrible. The terrain is pretty much featureless, nothing to take a bearing from really especially in the dark. Then, you think you are on a path, then it just disappears. You spend some time bog hoping and negotiating groughs and suddenly, back on the path. This went on forever. Even when we got down on to better ground around Ravenseat, the route was very vague. We missed a bridge somewhere and ended up the wrong side of a wall. Thankfully, two other lads she had run with before were just behind us and we worked out our mistake.
For a while we were a group of 5, me, Lynsey, Shayne and the two lads. Eventually, after passing the half way point at Keld, somewhere near Crackpot Hall, we became stretched out, Lynsey and one lad ahead, me in the middle then Shayne and the other lad behind. In the dark, I was back on my own naving from my crap map. The track however was good and the route straight forward. I am sure it would have been spectacular in the daylight, but in the dark, who knows! I know we crossed a waterfall, passed lead mine ruins and went down and up some very steep gill ravines.
Shortly before dawn, high on the pathside in a place I thought I recognised, I got to a cross roads. I squinted at the words on the finger post, none of the options said 'Coast to Coast' I think I swore. One caught my eye though, Gunnerside. I know where that is, we walk the dog here sometimes, I have been through here on other races. It must be this way. Off I went, periodically stopping to check the map and convince myself I was in the right place. As I was descending, I was getting more and more tired. I could feel my eyes closing and I was worried about tripping on the uneven path. I thought maybe a nap would be a good idea, well, as soon as I had that thought that was it! I found a rock to sit on where I could lean on the wall, pulled my hoods up and snuggled down into my coat. I have no idea how long I was there for, not too long I think. I didn't want Shayne and pal to see me fast asleep like this so I got up and hurried on. Across the grass and out onto the road at Gunnerside. Gunnerside? What, where am I? Is this Gunnerside? Yes it is. Shit. I should be at Surrender Bridge, how did I get here? I realised what I had done, taken the wrong pigging track at the cross roads earlier. What to do? I contemplated just heading down the road to Reeth, but I thought I might be DQ'd for that. I had no phone so couldn't ring the race team and I knew they would be trying to get hold of me. Shit shit shit. There is a public payphone in Gunnerside, it takes card... but it doesn't work. I was panicking, trying not to cry, I really thought this was game over, I was going to get disqualified. Then I heard the rumble of bins and spotted a man in his yard. I ran over and explained my situation and could I please borrow his phone? He agreed and I called the race team. I explained that I wasn't trying to retire, I'd made a bit of a nav error and how do I get out of this situation in a race legal fashion.
Yep. Back off up the hill I went.
I had wasted at least 2 hours, probably more and added 5 miles onto my journey.
It actually didn't take that long to get back to the crossroads, maybe I had napped longer than I thought? When I looked again at the options on the signs, one of them said 'Surrender Bridge'. No wonder Shayne hadn't come past, he'd gone the correct bloody way! I followed the arrow for Surrender Bridge, very quickly there was another split in the path. For goodness sake, I consulted the Harvey map, scale all wrong to be useful, neither way looked particularly inviting - very steep on loose mining spoil. I had become good at tracking footprints and pole-marks, in the mud these are easy to see, not so much on spoil heap but I thought I could see some pole-marks so continued up the steep slope. I desperately hoped it was right as I thought it was so steep I might not get back down it! At the top, I meet a big wide track, that seemed to match the map. I continued east, expecting to meet the next feature, Level House fairly soon. I did not. The track just went on and on. No features, no other runners, the ground too solid even for pole-marks. I was so tired and disoriented, why was this so hard? Then, I spotted a mining ruin I could relate to the map – at last! I was about 60% happy I was on the right path. I had almost turned around. At last I got to Level House BRIDGE, it even had a little sign on it and I could breath a sigh of relief. I didn't see a soul on my way to Surrender Bridge.
I was getting very tired now, every so often I would have to have a 'lean' on a wall or large rock. It was taking ages to get anywhere.
At the bridge, the route left the good track and went back on to boggy path. So sick of the bog. Again this went on forever and the map was shit for navigation. I missed a turn somewhere and took a route longer than necessary to come out higher up the Reeth road than I expected, that threw me again and I took a moment to get heading in the correct direction. I passed through the small village of Reeth, my next destination was the Dales Bike Centre on the opposite side. The sun had come out for a while earlier and I was looking forward to sitting outside with a cup of tea. Nope. It started raining again. I got to the Dales Bike Centre to find a couple of the race crew there, I joined them and had a (free) tea and lovely lemon cake. It was nice to sit down and be warm for a little while. Another couple of runners came in behind me, I made sure I left before them. It is a race afterall! Back out into the rain, a long climb up the nunnery steps which were cascading with rain water, past Marrick Priory and the sun came out again and I was suddenly too warm in all my layers! I got nibbled by a cheeky Zwarbles lamb. I worked my way across muddy fields, having the occasional lean here and there. For a while I could see a person in red behind me, runner Laura was wearing a red coat and she was moving at a fair pace! Bloody hell, not only did I not want to be overtaken, I was also desperate for a pee! At every gate, the red coat got closer and closer there was no way I could go any faster until she got close enough for me to see she was a random lady out walking, not Laura at all. She overtook me with a cheery exchange and as soon as she was past I had my wee.
So tired, so grumpy. Gradually getting closer to Richmond. I hadn't planned to sleep here, but now I knew I had to. Just had to get there. Eventually, reached the section I had recced with my OH a few weeks ago so I knew it wasn't much further, about 3 miles. On the outskirts of the woods, I saw a few people walking dogs and the such like, always the way when you get close to civilisation. One of the chaps stopped and asked me if I was Fran. Erm, yes? I replied. Turns out he was Duncan's dad! He lives locally and when he heard about the race he wanted to come out to see me! I have never met the bloke before, but once he told me who he was, it was obvious who he was. We walked in to Richmond together. It was really sweet, but ever so slightly awkward too, I was so very tired, very grumpy, on a mission to get to the check point and could just about keep up with an old bloke with a limp and walking stick. I shook his hand when we got to the check point and off he went again.
The checkpoint was a marque in the grounds of the football club. The floor was muddy, which made things awkward for rummaging in your kit bag. I inhaled 2 slices of pizza as I walked in, before I had even sat down. The lovely marshalls ran through the 'menu' and I settled on beans on toast with cheese and a couple of cups of tea. Laura arrived later, she looked bushed. I told her later about the earlier incident with the hiker in the red coat, she found it quite amusing.
Once I had eaten, I was shown to an empty tent. I had been given my 'Traverse Mail' messages, so I read through them once again as I settled down for a little sleep. I could hear the wind and rain rattling the tent, I thought I don't care and promptly fell fast asleep.
I was rudely awoken by my alarm on my watch, I'd had a solid couple of hours sleep. I think it was already dark when I joined the other runners back in the marque. We all looked like we need a lot more kip! I sorted my feet, rearranged my bits and bobs and had tea and porridge. I ran out of excuses to stay in the relative shelter of the marque and eventually headed out onto the course once more. I had recced the next section, but that was on a sunny day last summer, it looked a bit different in the dark! A gentle drizzle accompanied us, on and off. The route was fairly flat and crossed/skirted lots of fields. For a while I shared the path with a chap I had met before, a friend of a friend; Adrian. Although it's nice to know someone else is there, I don't think either of us really wanted any company. We saw a fox, then around Catterick there were frogs everywhere! The path was more like a stream and the frogs were enjoying themselves greatly.
At Bolton-on-Swale, we crossed a field so big, our headtorch beams couldn't illuminate the boundary hedges and it proved difficult to maintain course!
Shortly after this, we hit the road section, even Wainwright disliked this bit. On my summer time reece, it wasn't exciting, but the various crops and verge side flowers etc added a little interest. In the dark, all I could see were the hedges and my own feet. A couple of people overtook me, I didn't really care, all I could think about was the aching in my back from carrying my rucksack.
I was starting to get tired, it was cold too. I staggered occasionally as my eyes closed as I was walking. About 3am (seems to be the hardest time) I stumbled into the pool of light that was Danby Wiske. Some other runners were just leaving, having obviously had a kip on the benches on the green in front of the pub. Gosh, those benches looked comfy. I was lucky as it had just stopped raining, so I snuggled up on the bench as best I could, using my map as a blanket (so they are good for something!) and had a nap. 5 mins? 20 mins? Not a clue, but it helped a little and I didn't want to stay too long and stiffen up or get too cold. I shuffled on, made the road crossing at Oak Tree Hill it was slightly strange knowing my house was 3 miles down that road...
The next section included some flooded footpaths. Not good, I nearly fell in the knee deep water, so had to back track a little to find a decent stick to use as a depth gauge, then as I was that busy watching my step, I whacked my head on a low branch. Fucks sake.
The path zig zagged across fields as the sun came up at last. There were runners ahead and behind, but nobody close enough to talk to. I did come across a chap, Simon, having a kip on the steps of a railway crossing, he said we struggling a bit but would be ok.
It sounds a bit naff, but we all made it to the A19 services and this was a high point of this section! A proper loo, a hot chocolate and a nice sandwich. There were four of us at this point, Adrian, Shayne and Simon. We ate our food in silence, then had 40 winks on the breakfast bar area of the services. No one batted an eyelid. I did ask the cashier if there was a payphone so I could check in with Paul but there wasn't. It was noisy and not very warm in the services, so I didn't stay any longer. I needed my wits about me to make the A19 crossing... Across in one piece and as I travelled up the much quieter village road into Ingleby Arncliffe, I saw a runner coming down towards me, I squinted at them a bit and realised it was Duncan! He was out on a training run and just happened to bump into me, how fortunate! We walked and jogged a bit together and chatted about this and that. I told him about his Dad coming out to see me at Richmond, he thought it was hilarious, I am still not sure who's idea it actually was... It was a nice boost to see him and it spurred me on a little to get to Lordstones. I had two climbs to get over before that though, Beacon Hill and then Live Moor. I just engaged trudge mode, nothing else one can do really. I was on familiar territory which kind of helps. I caught and overtook Shayne once more along the way, he said he was very tired but soldiering on.
Typically, on the highest most exposed bit, the rain came in sideways once more! I had been hoping to make it to the checkpoint without getting wet, was it wasn't to be. Marshalls met me once I was in the grounds of Lord Stones and I was guided the through to the marque, via the loo! I was desperate for a sleep and initially turned down food, until I saw someone with a plate of what looked like nachos. What is that? I asked. Veggie bolognase nachos. Oh, could I have a small portion of those please? The request for a 'small portion' was ignored and I was presented with a huge pile of nachos covered in veggie bolognase and smothered in melted cheese. I inhaled the lot and had room for fruit crumble!!
Somehow, I never made it into the sleeping tents. It was wild and squally outside and I couldn't be arsed to potentially get my sleeping bag etc wet in the 'dash' to the tent. I had a whole table to myself for a while, so I changed my running base layers for fresh dry ones, leggings, top, everything; then put all my warm gear on over the top and basically just chilled out for a couple of hours, drinking tea and fiddling with my map.
A pair of runners joined me, Sean and Michelle, and we swapped stories of the event so far and the sorts of running we did normally. Between chatting to them and the marshals and sitting in all my warm fluffy socks, Pjs and puffy coat, it was a very chilled atmosphere. Shayne and a couple of other runners did the same, having intended on sleeping, we just chilled instead. I saw Laura and her companion Andy again too.
As ever though, it came time to press on. I had taken the time to drain any blisters and redress my feet. I did have a few blisters but nothing bad and the rest with my feet up had allowed them to dry out a bit but they were still a bit swollen, forcing them back into my trainers was probably the worst bit of the whole thing.
The weather had calmed down and it looked set to be a pleasant evening and sunset. This was the final section, just (!) 40-ish miles left to go. I set off feeling good, I was going to do it, I was really doing this. My feet were ok, I had no injuries, just a slightly sore achilles, but it wasn't stopping me moving at all. I had been dreading this bit over the Wainstones, but now I was here I was moving well and actually enjoyed each climb and ascent, hardly stopping at all on the way. As I dropped towards Clay Bank I saw Gavin powering up the stone path! Hurrah! We exchanged sweaty hugs and he asked me why had I gone to Gunnerside earlier! (He'd told everyone back home it was 'for a jobbie' – thanks Gavin. He carried on up and I carried on down, where I met Hilary and Helen! More hugs and photos. We walked as a threesome a little way while I told them all about how it was going. Helen gave me a big hug and said I had it in the bag, I said a lot could happen in the next 40 miles, but I felt good and was going to do it. They headed back to their car and I carried on alone across Round Hill, highest point of the North York Moors. I did have to stop a couple of times to turn around and take in the sunset – another missed photo opp.
As it got dark, it got cold. I had most of my clothes on, long leggings, waterproof trousers, long sleeved top, hoody, down jacket, coat and two pairs of gloves. I was ok while moving, but the low temperature was noticeable. The route was dull now, a long section of railway line from the old mining days. It wound its way along the 300m contour for about 4 years. Or that is how it felt. Nothing to look at other than my own hallucinations. I shouted into the darkness a couple of times just how bloody boring is this? I made up songs to sing out loud just for something to do. Again, the terrain was featureless, or at least nothing I could see by torch light, so I had no clue as to how far I had gone. Too tired to run, to slow to walk, I kept marching on and on. I could see a light ahead of me, I assumed it was a game keeper or a cyclist as it was going the wrong way to be another runner. It kept bobbing about, this way and that until I finally reached it to find Shayne going back and forth trying to make sense of his GPX trace. It was trying to take him off the main track, I didn't think that seemed right as the main track just carried on to meet the road by the Lion Inn. Or so I thought, bastard useless Harvey map. We stayed on the main track, hit the road then had to turn up to actually get to the Lion Inn. Found out later, plenty of folk had stopped there for a warm and a plate of chips. The thought never occurred to me, nor Shayne it would seem, and we marched on. Between his GPX and my map we got up the road, cut off the corner at Rosedale Head and continued on. Matching pace, but not really talking much. He was not the same chipper character from earlier and I can't imagine I was much company either, he seemed slightly disoriented and a bit staggery and before we left the road for moorland tracks, he announced he was having a kip in the next dry spot he came to. I carried on alone, having made sure he was ok. The next path, again, went on for sodding ever. Past a big shooting hut called Trough House, I had seen a sign saying Glaisedale this way so I was fairly confident I was going the right way but not 100%. I hoped it was right as I had walked gently downhill for what seemed an eternity on featureless moorland track. I reached the road on Glaisdale Rigg, relieved to be on the right track.
God I was tired. The Rigg was boring, and I was again falling asleep on my feet, jolting back into consciousness each time I kicked a rock. The ground was very uncomfortable underfoot and I was getting plantar fasciitis style pains. I was bloody cold too, even while moving my teeth were chattering so not really safe to stop for a nap.
I entered the hushed village of Glaisdale to be met by a marshal, this was a new checkpoint this year and boy was I glad it was here. I wondered if I would be able to hide in a corner and have a little nap – the rules said no sleeping inside buildings, you had to be in a tent and there were no tents here. I need not have worried. The couple of people already inside were flat out across chairs, snoring away. I didn't know what I wanted, but a bowl of hot tomato soup with bread and butter and a couple of pieces of flapjack seemed to hit the spot. It was lovely and warm in here and I was able to stretch out with my feet up. I had a 45min or so nap. Shayne came in during this time, he looked pale but soon cheered up with tea and soup and a medic helped him redress his sore feet. Simon also came in, sadly he didn't leave having had enough. I went to the loo, when I saw my reflection my face was all puffy with squinty eyes. Nice.
I debated what to do, I was definitely finishing, DNF didn't even cross my mind. I had a finish time in my head, but my mashed brain couldn't work out how I was doing. I thought about saying sod it and having another hours kip, but I got a minute second wind and decided (after another cup of tea) that I had to push on. This was the last bit, I would be done before long, I had to at least try for the time I wanted, even though it seemed impossible. The marshal asked me as I was leaving if I knew where I was going, yep I called back quietly. I didn't and I went the wrong way through the village! I came out where I needed to be so it was fine. The path followed the river, I have done it many moons ago in the daylight so I know it was quite pretty, but it was dark now. Through Egton Bridge, dawn was approaching, I'd had enough. I was so tired, my feet hurt, my legs hurt, my back hurt, this was just going on forever, I just wanted it over. I lost the plot a little and staggered along the path in tears, pleading with the sun to come up, please come up. Thankfully, a dog walker appeared and I snapped back into the room, dried my face and pretended I was cheerful.
The hill out of Grosmont is a beast on fresh legs, let alone legs that have now done over 100 miles. I slowly trudged up, and THREE blokes overtook me. What?? I hadn't seen a soul besides Shayne since Lordstones and here 3 people were overtaking me. I was furious, but there was literally nothing I could do about it. Coming to the top of the hill, I had my best hallucination of the whole event (I had loads of hallucinations but mostly they were seeing faces in the lichen on rocks, or mistaking bits of stick for worms or frogs. I had seen a cat in Egton Bridge, even spoke to it in the hopes it would let me stroke it – turned out to be some mud on the road.) I saw, up ahead on the crest of the hill, a car pull up and load of marshalls in hi-vis gear get out and they were just milling about by the car. I knew there was a footpath a little further on which cut out a section of very fast road and to me in made sense that the marshalls had arrived to make sure people didn't miss the path.
No, it was just a tree and a gate. I was a little shocked when I realised, it was very strong and this was in broad daylight!
We crossed the fast road and were back on moor path, I had recced this last bit with Trudy not long ago so was happy to be here. I ate an out of date choc-mint Grenade bar as I meandered down the hill into Littlebeck. It was dry and not very nice. I passed one of the 3 blokes, Nick, sat on a bench looking very pale, he was trying to eat I asked if he was ok, yes he lied. I entered Littlebeck, I knew the way, Nick shouted after me, but couldn't keep up (I found out later he really was struggling but lay down under a bridge and had a 10 min nap which worked wonders!) I felt ok, but very tired, and was moving relatively well through the pretty valley, past Falling Foss and out by the carpark. Onto moor once again, I still knew the way but it was very wet underfoot. Nick caught me up and asked if we could walk in together. I wanted to say 'no' but actually said 'yeah whatever'. We walked and chatted for over a mile and actually, we both felt better. We compared naps spots and hallucinations. We came across another one of the 3 blokes, Graham, laid out on the grass in the sun. He was busy fighting off a hypo, he had food he said, he just needed to actually eat it. We told him we'd see him at the finish. Once we got to the road near Hawsker, I managed to pull away from Nick, he was actually quite ok and I felt a tiny twinge of guilt, but I had a schedule to keep. I had finally worked out how much time I had and I could do it, I could get my time. I was now too hot in all my clothes and stuffed some of them into my rucksack without stopping. This lack of care over packing meant something was now digging into my back, but I didn't care. I actually managed to trot a little bit on the smooth downhill section, through Hawsker, across the busy coast road and down through the caravan park. Oh my gosh, this is it, this is really it! Nothing is stopping me now. I have 3 miles left and plenty of time. Til I hit the mud. It was ankle deep in places, whipped up slop. It always gets like this in winter, it's gross. I was amused by the few holiday makers I saw, trying their best to avoid it in their inappropriate shoes while I strode through the middle of it. I wondered how they had made it out this far along the cliff top path? I had to be careful though, if I pushed too hard, I soon got sleepy eyes and if I nodded off here I could fall in to the sea (ok, a bit dramatic, but still falling over in the mud now would be silly).
All those times I had imagined how it would feel to come to the finish, and here I was actually doing it and it felt amazing, exactly how I had imagined. I had made an hour up on the tracker since Glaisdale, the sun was shining and to top it off, with just a couple of fields left, Paul appeared along with Poppy dog! He said he was amazed I was still moving as I strode on up a short flight of steps. I said I couldn't believe it either, I thought I would be a crippled mess, shuffling along. Once I hit the tarmac, I actually ran. It was a stilted, shuffly run, but when I look back at my map trace, I was doing a 12min/mile or there abouts – i.e. actually running. I even shouted to some holiday makers to mind their backs as I came through.
The tears welled up involuntarily as I reached the slipway to meet the race crew and receive my medal. Oh my days, what a ride.
They asked me if I had seen the Finnish guy, he was one of the trio that overtook me out of Grosmont, turns out he had made a slight error in Robin Hoods Bay itself, allowing me past and so I finished ahead of all three blokes, I know it's petty but I was chuffed. The Finnish chap came in while I was there and a few minutes later Nick arrived and he was in tears and I was in tears.
Photo credit - No Limits Photography
Now I had actually stopped, I could hardly walk and it was time to shuffle my way back up to the top of the steep hill to race HQ and the car. Andy and Mike B (one of the marshalls) were there, I spoke to them briefly and collected my drop bag.
Later, after a shower and tea at Wetherspoons, I was so tired I was falling asleep in Spoons; I said I was going for a nap. I figured I'd have a couple of hours kip, then have some more food. That was 5pm. When I woke for a pee at 9pm I found I hadn't managed to get fully undressed before passing out on the bed! I slept until 8am the next day.
