Summer Spine Challenger 2021

Summary

Official Time 41:17:54 Position: 36th of 110 starters (43 DNFs - 39%)

This was a non-stop 108 mile (174 km) race along the Pennine Way from Edale to Hardraw (Strava says a bit longer, certainly my longest run to date either way), with one major checkpoint at Hebden Bridge providing food, water, medics and even floor space to sleep. Outside that there was only one small checkpoint (Malham Tarn) with water and medics only, and a few water points along the course. Also one additional unofficial stop around Cowling. We were allowed to stop at cafes or shops for food etc., but not to receive any assistance from others while on the course.

This was an ambitious thing for me to try, a bit of a stretch. Although I'd done a 100 mile run once, last year, that wasn't a race and it was nowhere near this challenge. I'm really glad to have gone for something a little beyond my comfort zone. I suppose that was in part prompted by Covid, which has been a reminder not to put things off forever and enjoy freedom and good health while I have them.

I'm really pleased with how it went. I guess this is mainly a boring story of a midpack runner. I trained, ran within my abilities, finished in good shape. Nothing spectacular or terrible happened, I enjoyed myself in the countryside.

The scenery was beautiful, and as varied as the weather, which went from scorching hot sun to pouring rain requiring full waterproofs (and not in the order/timescale the forecast had said).

I learnt a few things and in parts it was also a great reminder of my favourite ultra running saying "things don't always get worse". Looking back, I had distinct up and down phases throughout the 41 hours, not a downward spiral of things falling apart at all. There were minor difficulties, but I wouldn't have had it any other way.

Pre-race thoughts

I knew this would be the hardest running challenge I'd taken on, in multiple ways:

• The distance
• There's only one checkpoint with food and access to a drop bag.
• The Pennine Way has very variable terrain. 
• Navigation might be difficult in some bits, particularly in the dark.
• I'd likely be alone for long stretches.
• Sleep deprivation might start to become an issue.

[Although I'm making rather a big deal of it, it's nothing much compared to the full Spine race, I know]

Signing up

I've not done many races (a 5km, 1 half marathon and 3 ultras) since I got into running, but have entertained myself doing plenty of self-planned ultra distance runs. One of my ideas was to run from home in Cheshire to my wife's parents' in Yorkshire, split into two legs - first to Edale then up the Pennine Way to Wessenden. It seemed like an obvious goal, which I've still not achieved.

I found chance to do the Edale to Wessenden leg in between Covid lockdowns in October 2020. I wasn't planning anything more than to get to a picnic with my in-laws but in hindsight it turned out to be an accidental Spine recce. 10 days later I'd signed up to the Summer Challenger. Seemed like a scary idea, but that's a good thing, right?

Aims

Setting out, my aims were: 

• Stay sensible and don’t take any silly risks with safety 
• Enjoy myself? 
• Make it to the finish 

(I'm writing this bit before the race, and if I achieve any of those it will have been a success. I need to remember that and not beat myself up for what could have gone better or faster.)

Training

In both 2018 (essentially as a non runner) and 2019 (after an injury) I basically started from scratch in January and worked up to an ultra each summer. In 2020 I resolved not to do that, and aimed to run one "ultra" per month so I was always in decent condition. With a few exceptions during 2020 lockdown, I've managed that, and not had much of a training plan beyond that. Realistically I am as fit as I've ever been, managing to fit in running amongst the rest of life, and I'm comfortable with that.

Other preparation / planning

It's not an exaggeration to say I prepared for this more than anything in my life, and I'm really grateful to my family for putting up with the obsession.

• Got in a good day's recce from Hebden to Earby, which takes in the section I predicted I'd be in the dark for.
• Spent a lot of time poring over maps and Google Streetview.
• Read a lot of race reports and notes. Notably:
• Christian Maleedy's report from 2017
• Packed and repacked my bags a lot
• Made a point to get a couple of sports massages in the month before the race.
• Downloaded a lot of music to fit every possible mood. Most crazily of all perhaps I made an 85 minute playlist of nothing but different versions of the Metallica song "... And Justice For All", ranging from early demos to 21st century live performances. It's repetitive, infuriating and actually fairly harrowing. I thought it might be just the thing at some point. (I did not listen to this playlist, I never have)

Strategy

The plan was to split the distance into 14 sections of about 15 km each and consider each one as a separate run, with the navigation, nutrition etc. thought of in those chunks. This works for me. At the end of a leg, that's over, I reset my watch. If I've not eaten as much as I planned on one leg, or I was slow, or whatever, I put that out of mind and move on to the next one. I had no intention of worrying about 174 km because that's too huge to contemplate.

The Race

Edale to Snake Pass

Saturday morning

Weather: cloudy

The start this year was staggered into 3 cohorts, starting 90 minutes apart, the idea being that the faster runners started first, based on our own guesses of time to Hebden. My estimate was the middle of the three options, but I was in the "fast wave", presumably that's just how the numbers worked out. Consequently I was well aware that lots of those lining up with me were way out of my league, and chasing them up Jacob's Ladder would have been crazy.

It was a pretty relaxed start, about 50 of us ambled over to the field and stood around in a socially distanced way. The starter went through a little speech, and a countdown.

2 minutes to go. Did I remember the first aid kit? I take off my bag, have a faff, yes of course, it's right where I put it. Bag back on. 

1 minute to go. What about the map? I don't have a spare map, if I've dropped my map I could be disqualified. Bag off, faff again. Maybe I'm a bit nervous here?! I got my pack back on with 15 seconds to go.

Having thought about this for months, visualising the start, I'm actually here doing this! The nerves subsided as I settled into the race, chatting with a few people I'd see a lot of over the next few hours, but running at my own pace, overtaking and then getting passed again as tends to happen.

Here I am on Jacob's Ladder about to have a slice of pizza. It's a tough climb, but one I was familiar with, so easy to pace it sensibly. Across the Kinder plateau was a matter of alternating running and walking as the terrain demanded. 

It occurred to me that things were going very well, but there was an incredibly long way to go. I don't think I fully had my head round the fact that I'd still be going 30+ hours later, with no intention to sleep or even have much of a stop. This was still a big deal for me, but my trick of thinking about the distance in blocks seemed to work.

It had rained the afternoon before, but not enough for the tops to go boggy after a couple of weeks of dry weather, which was a welcome surprise.

Snake Pass to Torside

Saturday morning

Weather: sunny, some cloud

I didn't need any water at the Snake Pass water point, so no need to stop, and I ended up on my own with just occasional glimps of a yellow backpack ahead. I set about catching it and its owner, Kim. Eventually I managed to catch up with her and have a little chat.

On the way down towards Torside, I pushed on and pulled away from Kim. I was still feeling good, my pace decent without overdoing it, so I had a go at catching the next person. There was nobody ahead visible, so I pushed relatively hard (I'm not at all experienced at racing, so this competitive mode is quite rare!), and eventually I overtook someone just as I came to the Torside water point. I filled my bottle, and then off over the dam.

Torside to Wessenden

Saturday morning

Weather: sunny, some cloud

I had a quick check of the race tracker as I had the feeling I'd overtaken every one I could expect to, and those who'd broken away were uncatchable. I saw someone showing as stopped a few hundred meters ahead of me, just out of sight. It turned out to by Ryan (No 345).

With the exception of Ryan, I was correct, there was nobody else ahead who I'd catch for the whole race. I'm not sure why that mattered to me, I guess I wanted to know what was going on in the race and maybe use my competitive urges to push me on.

I headed over Laddow Rocks. Nobody ever mentions Laddow Rocks, so I feel like a bit of a wimp, but I don't have a great head for heights, and the cliff top path made me a bit nervous. By no means terrified or anything, but I was glad it wasn't stormy or dark. I know the Winter Spiners don't give it a second thought, but they are tougher than me!

Looking back down the valley gives a gorgeous view, which this picture doesn't do justice to. What a lovely way to spend a day or two, moving through this landscape.

Ryan caught me again and we ran together for a while chatting. Ultra/ running people all seem to be fundamentally nice folk in my experience, and I'd gladly spend more time with many of people I met on the race.

As this picture shows, I carried a bigger bag than almost anyone. It was my choice and I stand by it. Pressuring myself into packing less would have stressed me out, even if I'd have saved a bit of weight. I had plenty of food and water and sufficient layers, and I was comfortable.

I feel like a bit of an outsider or imposter when it comes to being a "runner", and perhaps it's true that carrying the "wrong" sized bag is partly taking pleasure in a silly bit of nonconformance for the sake of it. Still, I also reckon it's important to be yourself and if that's my attitude, so be it. Also I am rubbish at packing light.

I knew some of my friends and family were likely to be at Wessenden, so I let Ryan know not to wait for me, as much as I enjoyed his company, and to push on without me as soon as we get to the road.

I got a lemonade and a sausage sandwich from a snack van, changed my socks while chatting to the family and friends and then was ready to head out just as Laura (No 310) and Rachel (No 340) passed by.

Wessenden to M62

Saturday afternoon

Weather: sunny, some cloud

It wasn't too long before the first 400 number passes - this meant she started 90 minutes after me and she was absolutely flying, relative to my controlled pace at least. It was Jackie Stretton who would finish as 2nd female. Well done, but I was not going to try and keep up there!

During this section I ended up with Laura and Rachel quite a bit, who made great company. As Laura knew this bit so well, I must admit I didn't have to think about the route so much, but I did know it fairly well, and recognised some of it from Google Earth (spent a lot of time on that during lockdown).

Near the M62 there's another burger van, so I picked up a bacon roll (is two burger van visits on one afternoon excessive? Possibly). I didn't stop long and tried to eat on the move, which took a while, but I knew it's important to keep eating. 

M62 to Warland Reservoir

Saturday afternoon

Weather: sunny / cloudy

Not a lot to say about this bit.

There were a few supporters out and about - a group (which I later found out was Laura's running club) were waiting at the White House pub, and gave me a huge cheer that almost made me think they must be personal friends of mine, but I couldn't work out how they knew me! Turned out they're just nice people. It doesn't happen much to me in life, but it really does give a nice boost when strangers cheer me on!

At the pub car park, a safety team volunteer topped up my water, taught me how to pronounce "Stoodley" and off I went. People complain about the reservoir path being a bit tedious, but I enjoyed the views to the West and the opportunity to pick up the pace a bit.

Warland Reservoir to Checkpoint 1 Hebden Bridge

Saturday evening

Weather: sunny, some cloud

I had a slightly amusing episode here with some bullocks. I cautiously left them the path and gave them a wide berth. If Laura and Rachel had been with me I'd probably have hid behind them!

That negotiated, I stopped for a quick precautionary foot check. No blisters, and just as I put my shoes back on Laura and Rachel passed me once more, we'd been leap frogging each other for most of the day. It was a lovely summer's evening, and I took out my Swiss Army knife to slice a mango I'd carried with me for 45 miles.

It's easy running here over Stoodley Pike and a few others caught up as we headed down into the valley, along the canal and to the Checkpoint.

Checkpoint 1

I'd set myself a target of no more than an hour at the checkpoint, which sounds like plenty, but I know I'm prone to faffing. I had a checklist to work through which I did efficiently (for me), I ate a portion of cottage pie, had a cup of tea. The volunteers throughout the race were amazing and very helpful here, carrying my bag for me, delivering food to me and generally looking after us.

There was a bit of a decision here, which I'd anticipated. The only place to restock food for the rest of the race is Gargrave Co-Op. On current pace I'd get there before opening, so out came my "Plan B bag" with extra food to fuel me for the remainder of the race. It meant more weight into my bag but I didn't mind that. If I could really get to the Co-op before opening I'd be well on track for a great time.

In the hour I was there, Ryan, Simon and Kim all came in, but sadly all three made the tough decision to end it here.

I was just about out within the hour I set myself.

Checkpoint 1 Hebden Bridge to Top Withens

Saturday night

Weather: some cloud, getting cooler

I put a bit of a spurt on along the canal, in the knowledge this would be the last runnable section for a while. Alone, there was nobody to hear me whinge about the climb up out of the valley, which is incredibly steep and not really any fun at all.

It was getting dark over Heptonstall moor, as I  settled into the night, assuming I may not see another person until Cowling. There was nothing much to see, but the route was surprisingly easy to follow with the familiarity from my recce and I didn't even need to check a map or GPS. Checking now and again doesn't do any harm of course.

I guessed there were probably people not far behind, and if I needed the company I could simply wait a few minutes, but I felt fine on my own. As I stopped to put my jacket on at Walshaw Dean, a head torch appeared. It was Giles (No 345), who I'd not met before. As much as I was prepared to face a night alone, I'll not say no to company. He was having a bit of trouble with his feet and legs, but I knew this was never going to be the fastest section anyway. I felt comfortable, though it was getting a bit cold so had all my layers on.

Top Withens to Cowling Triathlon Club stop

Saturday night

Weather: windy overnight, rain started later, some mist on moor

We plodded on. We talked. It was dark. Running through a night is not something I get to practise much, I guess it's the same for most of us. My theory was to just trudge through it and try to avoid anything going wrong - don't trip over anything, don't get cold. On the "Badger 100" (a self supported run I invented for me and my friend Lucy to complete our first hundred miler), the night got quite gruelling, maybe even miserable. Having had that experience, this wasn't nearly so bad.

We just kept moving. It's a relatively easy place to be at night, there are much more challenging parts of the route. It started raining, still dark.

This is just a bit outside my comfort zone, but I'm okay with it, that's what I came for. While I had some time to think, it occurred to me just how different the full Spine would be. Not only longer and "tougher", but different. For example, I was committed to staying up for as long as this race took, even if that went all the way through a second night. If I was going for the full Spine, there's a different strategy and sleeping at Hebden or somewhere else before Hardraw might be the best way to deal with it. I might also make longer stops, and do more of my eating at the stops. On the Challenger, minimising stopped time seemed much more important, as long rests weren't needed. So I had to fuel as I went along more. Personally, the full Spine doesn't (yet?) appeal, but I can see if it did it wouldn't be just 2.5 times the same thing, I'd have to rethink things.

Anyway, back to Ickornshaw moor in the mist. A local triathlon club had set up a gazebo with hot drinks and food, we reached it at about 04:00. This isn't an official checkpoint, but it's tolerated by the organisers and has become part of the Spine legend. The race rules say nobody can receive support that is not available to all, so this club must offer bacon sandwiches (plus gluten free and vegan alternatives, etc.) and tea and coffee to every single competitor.

The thought of this stop was a big part of what had been getting me through the darkness, and that cup of tea and the support of these lovely people are just what I needed. It is a bit easy to get too comfy here on a chair sheltering from the rain, which is really coming down now. I put on my waterproof trousers, ask for a second cuppa, but then I have to get back out. Giles announced that he was going to call it a day at the next road crossing, so I bid him farewell. There was no sense trying to talk him out of it, it was the right decision. Enjoyed the conversation overnight with you Giles.

Cowling Triathlon Club stop to Gargrave

Sunday morning

Weather: heavy rain, then cloudy

The sun had risen by this point but it wasn't visible as it was completely overcast and pouring down. Still, daylight was a positive, and I'd made it though the night in good shape I reckoned.

Not long afterwards I suddenly started to feel very weak. Although I contemplate stopping for a lie down, and maybe even that this might be a race ending condition, I pulled myself together. As satisfying as the bacon sandwich was, I hadn't eaten enough through the night. My blood sugar level was too low, that's all. It was a disturbing experience, but things don't always get worse.

With the benefit of hindsight I'm not sure to what extent this was psychological, but still I had to reset myself somehow. I ate a chocolate bar and two packets of sweets and carried on moving, albeit slowly. My legs felt good to run on, but what I needed to do is get my energy levels back up. I looked at my watch and told myself that within half an hour the sugar would be in my system and I'd feel fine. I'm pleased to say I was correct. I later saw someone in a similar state, and she did have to end her race, so I'd done well, or been lucky, to catch this in time. Or it was all in my head.

Two people caught up with me, one unfortunately on the verge of a decision to quit (he called it shortly afterwards) and Matthew (No 444). They were in the later wave, but they'd caught me with my recent slow progress. Initially I stayed with them, then I pulled away a bit.

Shortly after Pinhaw, Matthew met me again. He was patient enough to wait while I checked my feet. The miles of wet grass and sodden socks had started to cause the skin to swell, but no blisters, so a change of socks is all I needed.

I very much wanted to keep this race a solo effort, rather than form a team, but Matthew and I came to an agreement. We'd stick together until Malham village (about 27 miles from the end of the race) where he had family waiting, and then split up. There are pros and cons of collaborating, but we both seemed happy with this arrangement. We got on well, it was nice to have someone to chat to, and we helped each other with the navigating, so it worked nicely.

On my own, I'd have pushed harder in this section, but we had a long way to go. He hurt his ankle in the early stages, and had set himself a target of a midnight finish, with fast walking all the way. That wasn't my aim, or my strategy. I wanted to go quite a bit faster than that, but figured a few hours at a slower pace and without the impact of running should leave me in good shape to press on in the final stages (naive?).

On the way into Gargrave, Spine / ultra-running legend Eoin Keith caught us, and I picked up his pace briefly to talk to him. He was well in the lead of the full distance race (which started 8.5 hours after I did), and went on to win comfortably with a new course record. Having not really run for hours, I felt pleased with how well my legs worked in this little test, I can keep up with this guy! But a deal's a deal, and I wasn't abandoning Matthew. I wished Eoin good luck, he reciprocated and then Matthew and I walked into Gargrave. We arrived at the Co-Op at 9 O'clock, just as Eoin was leaving.

Gargrave Co-Op to Malham Tarn (CP1.5)

Sunday morning

Weather: cloudy

As I mentioned, I'd anticipated being through Gargrave before the Co-Op opened at 07:00, so I had plenty of food and drink. I made the daft decision to buy more. I just didn't need the extra weight at all, I had everything I needed. I also spilled coffee all over the floor, my clumsiness showing that maybe I was a little tired after a missed night's sleep. The Co-op wasn't my finest moment.

The roads and paths to Malham passed without incident. A lot was through flat fields, and I could have run, but we stuck together at a fast walk as planned. I enjoyed Matthew's company greatly, but I knew that for my own satisfaction, I needed to crack on on my own. I hoped I'd finish before him, but it was more about needing to be clear in my head that I'd run with my own strategy. As it turned out, Matthew achieved his goal of finishing before midnight, almost an hour before me, so in a way I'd have been better sticking with him. [Well done on your finish, and sticking to that strategy on an inured ankle, impressive stuff!]

As Matthew greeted what looked to be a huge welcoming party, I pushed on. I was properly running now, and my legs felt great. The steps up Malham Cove would be slow, so let's make some time up. On those steps, I met someone suffering with I guess the same weak undernourished feeling I had earlier, another runner with her helping. I stopped to talk, gave her my Kendal mint cake (glad to lessen the load of my huge food store), and we left her to call her husband.

The limestone pavement at Malham is truly spectacular but it's not fun on sore feet. I started to slow down and made two decisions to get myself going again.

1. I'd let the checkpoint medics check my feet, there was still a marathon distance to go.
2. I needed to get rid of some things from my pack due to overshopping at the Co-op.

It again felt like things were going a bit wrong - there are always going to be low points, and sometimes you need to just weather them. The weight of my bag was getting me down, partly physically, but also psychologically. It's an easy enough problem to tackle - I lay down on the path, poured a litre of water away, then staggered into the checkpoint. I tipped out my bag and made a pile of anything still in sealed packets on the grass - anyone could help themselves to that. My bag was still bigger than anyone else's, but no longer ridiculous to me.

The nice medic was very helpful and there was no major damage to my feet, not a single blister. They were however really badly macerated after all that time in wet grass. Actually he photographed them to send the picture to a colleague as he'd never seen feet in that condition. Nothing serious though, he just told me to sit in the sunshine and let them dry before he taped them. So I waited there for probably 45 minutes under medic's orders. This seemed sensible to me, as a precaution to avoid any serious damage to the skin. It also allowed a proper mental reset.

Malham Tarn (CP 1.5) to Silverdale Road

Sunday afternoon

Weather: sunny / cloudy

Dry socks and shoes, thank you to everyone at the checkpoint and I was off again. Fountains Fell is a longish slog, but I was enjoying running where I could and mentally was back in a good place. My feet were a little sore, but I'd taken some paracetamol at Malham and it was only a slight discomfort. I had no difficulty running at all, not a twinge anywhere in my legs, which is pretty good given how far I'd come (or I wasn't trying hard enough).

The views from Fountains Fell are extensive and impressive. Critically, I could see that there was nobody behind me. So in a moment of ultra running glamour I pulled my shorts down to walk with air around my bum. With my feet feeling okay, my attention had turned to the next minor pain, and a concern that I might be ending up with some soreness after 30 hours in the same sweaty pants. I'd seen infected nappy rashes when my kids were babies and that wasn't what I wanted to greet the finish line medics with!

After pulling my pants up for the descent, I hit the road and was almost sprinting now. It felt like my plan had come together perfectly. I'd saved some energy and wear and tear on my legs with the steady miles with Matthew, and now was reaping the benefits. 

Silverdale Road to Horton

Sunday afternoon

Weather: sunny, few clouds

I felt on top of the World as I greeted the safety team before the track to Pen-y-ghent as I jogged past. This is my favourite hill on the route, it's just spectacular.

The hands and feet scramble at the top wouldn't be something I'd relish in a strong wind or in darkness (again, the Winter Spine is incredible), but in these benign conditions it's so satisfying, and I was in a great mood as I clambered up to the top. There was even a photographer to capture this emotional high point at the summit.

The path down the other side of the hill into Horton is flag stoned at the top then turns to a gravel track. It's steep in places, but looked pretty runnable. So all was good?

It's at this stage that I realised how sore my feet had become. The paracetamol had started to wear off, and I didn't think it was quite time for a second dose (in truth I'd lost track of time). There are sections where the edge of the path is grass - I could run these fine. On a road I could run. The thing which was unbearably uncomfortable was stony paths, and 90% of the rest of the route is stony paths.

Every foot step was painful, and as much as I desperately hoped this path would turn to some pleasant surface, it never did until back at the main road, and then only for a couple of hundred metres up to the toilet block. 

Horton to Kidhow Gate

Sunday evening

Weather: scorching hot sun

I wasn't familiar with this section, so let's just hope it's not a stony track and go. It was a stony track. I was slow, in pain and mentally not feeling great. Feeling a bit sorry for myself, it seemed to be just a matter of trudging into the finish. The ...And Justice For All playlist would have fitted but I didn't think of it. There had been fun times over the last 36 hours of virtually continuous movement, now I just had to endure the rest. Adding to the discomfort, it was blazing hot, with not a cloud in the sky or any shade at all and could feel my skin burning. Nothing I could do about it.

My feet now felt like every step was tearing them apart, and I couldn't decide if I should go easy on them. For a few sections with grass I basically sprinted as hard as I could, partly to masochistically punish my feet for being so sore, because that totally makes sense! Legs still worked fine, energy levels fine.

Jon (431) and Julia (433) caught me here when I was in a rubbish mood. They're very experienced and clearly quicker than me. Jon's done the Winter full Spine several times, so I was totally in awe. Having people to talk to cheered me up, and although these two were moving faster than my feet really wanted to, I dragged myself along with them. As they stopped to put on layers for the night, I actually pushed on ahead and left them behind. My feet still hurt, but I was mentally positive again, and Jon and Julia had helped pull me out of a bit of a hole (thank you!).

Kidhow Gate to Hardraw (Finish)

Sunday night

Weather: Cloudy

Shortly after Kidhow Gate, Jon and Julia did catch and pass me, and once again I was hobbling along behind them. At one stage Jon let me lead, which I was a bit flattered by, but I was sure I was slowing them down, so I let him pass.

At Ten End we finally turned off the stony path onto grass, which my feet were much more comfortable on. It was dark now, and the path very indistinct, so I had to watch where I put my feet very carefully. With all his experience of these paths, Jon knew exactly where he's going. He had the GPS trace on his watch as reassurance as well, so he was not going to go wrong. As much I like being independent, in that situation in total darkness, there's no point not following someone who knows the way. I didn't expect them to wait for me, but if I could tag along, then why not. This went on for a little while with the three of us trudging along and then on my turn to shut a gate it turned out to be a bit of a fiddly one.

By the time I had the gate fastened, they were gone, even their torches out of sight. I was alone, with nothing beyond my head torch beam. I had a challenge again. There was a bit of a mix of emotions here but I knew what I have to do. With very little to see in the dark, map and compass navigation would be tricky, so I went to use the GPS on my phone. And my phone was suddenly dead, it had had 20% battery last time I checked. It's an ever so slightly worrying moment, a very small taste of isolation and fear!

I knew of course that I wasn't in any danger, about a mile from a farm track, with no cliffs to fall off. I plugged in my charger and the phone worked again, the battery wasn't flat. All I had to do was follow a green track on my phone. The fields were very rough pasture with knee high grass in places, and the path on the ground invisible. All I needed to do was follow the GPS, so head down...

I glance up from the screen, and right in front of me were two cows with enormous horns! I'm not good with cattle. I backed away like a wimp (the cows didn't even move), and climbed over a dry stone wall, from where I took this picture.

I then resumed my descent, and immediately noticed that the field I'd climbed into was the one with the bull (with even more ridiculously huge horns)! This was at once hilarious and terrifying. It actually ranks as one of my favourite moment of the whole race. I'd gone from trudging in someone else's footsteps to having a little bit of an adventure up here, right at the last moment.

When I eventually got to the road, my dad was waiting - he'd walked up from the campsite in Hawes. After a very quick chat, I was off again, and he had to walk back down on his own. Now I knew the route was runnable road and fields the whole way, and I made the most of it. I'd never been to Hawes, but I'd checked this out so much on Google maps it was like the back of my hand. With a flat surface, my feet were bearable.

The finish line volunteers continuously check the tracker to see if anyone is coming in, but I was so quick they weren't ready for me, they thought I was still on the fields. I practically flew into the tent, a little out of breath after sprinting the last section of the 108 mile route! They said I had the biggest grin they'd seen all day once I caught my breath.

An amazing experience.

Post race thoughts

What went right: most things to be honest. I'm really pleased that I achieved all of my pre-race aims, I looked after myself pretty well physically. On the mental side, I came out of the inevitable low points pretty well.

Where could I have done better?

• I forgot to eat enough in the dark on Saturday night. That's something I can learn from.
• I wish I'd taken suncream. The forecast was for cloud and rain so I didn't. Foolish.
• A stronger painkiller would have suppressed the foot pain more. If I'd taken cocodamol rather than paracetamol for my second dose, I probably could have pushed more. However, "just take more drugs" doesn't seem like a great strategy to rely on!
• Could I have avoided the foot maceration? From Hebden to Malham I was in two pairs of thick-ish socks in wet grass for hours, so wet feet were pretty inevitable. I did have a reason for wearing two pairs of socks - I wanted to allow for foot swelling, so I was wearing shoes a half size too big. I'd tested this in training and had no problems, even with wet feet. I think it's just one of those things.
• I bought too much food in Gargrave, just silly. I was over-excited by the Co-Op!
• I'd have been quicker and more efficient generally if I'd recce'd more of the course, but then it would have been less of an adventure if I knew it all in advance.
• If I'd have known the trouble my feet would give me on the Cam Road section I should have pushed more before Malham, rather than teaming up with Matthew. This is very much a hindsight thing though, and I in no way regret the time I spent with him.

All in all a hugely satisfying experience.

Unnecessary analysis

I had started with a plan of times, some people say this is a time-wasting and/or demoralising thing to do, but it helped me to have a framework. It was based on an ambitious target of finishing in 36 hours. I like a graph, and looking at it helps to illustrate the ups and downs of my race.

tracking link

Acknowledgements

Thanks to: my dad for taking me and waiting around until 2a.m. at the end; my wife and family for putting up with endless preparations and long training runs; my in-laws for some Pennine Way Christmas presents; everyone involved in the event - organisers, volunteers, medics, photographers; everyone who I ran with at any point - notably Matthew, Ryan, Giles, Simon, Laura, Rachel, Helen, Kim, Jon, Julia and I've probably forgotten others' names; family and friends; passers-by and race supporters who gave encouragement.