Summer Spine Challenger 2022

I had another go at the Summer Spine Challenger race last weekend, here's a very self indulgent write up that i feel the need to get out of my system...

It's about 108 miles from Edale to Hardraw along the Pennine Way...

Initial thoughts - I bloody love this race!

I started running kind of seriously in 2018, and did a first ultra. Since then, roughly once a year, I've done a big challenge which has stretched me further than the previous. This year, my challenge was to go back to the toughest race i've ever done, and do it better. That's putting myself under pressure, which i think i needed.

For a race to return to, this is the one for me. I've been obsessing over it for so long, the Summer Spine Challenger somehow brings loads of my favourite things into a weekend.

The Plan

So, no plan survives contact with the enemy, blah blah, but i'm still going to have one.

Last time, i finished in 41:17. This time, I wanted to achieve a better time.

Training has been consistent, but no more than last year, so it's down to race execution.

Learn the lessons from last year, get to Hebden in about the same time, don't let pace fall off in the second half, run my own race, minimise faffing.

Privately I target sub 36:00, but i didn't tell too many people that.

Just deal with any problems that come up - something will go wrong, i expect.

Took some stuff with me:

Let's see how it worked out...

Day before

Get up, final bag check, breakfast, wife drops me at the train station.

Relaxed journey, arrived early and in good spirits, volunteer at kit check desk for a couple of hours. It's interesting to see others' kit, apart from anything else.

Once I'm registered myself, I hand my drop bag in immediately. I could keep it until the morning, but I'd rather stop myself from faffing.

I walk over to the youth hostel, it's about 30 minutes in sweltering heat (26C), glad the forecast is for much cooler conditions for the race.

Check in, order food, have some cups of tea, chat to some people. There's no internet signal I can be bothered to work out, so that's one less thing on my mind. I lie down on my bed at 8pm, just relaxing, maybe I'll dose off early.

Time since last sleep: 14 hours

Around about 10pm, everyone else heads to bed in the dormitory - about 7 of us in a 12 person room.

Time since last sleep: 16 hours

OK so the super early sleep didn't happen, but I've relaxed, and I'll drift off soon enough

Midnight, I'm still not asleep, surrounded by snoring people. It's not that easy to get to sleep.

Time since last sleep: 18 hours

Time since last sleep: 19 hours

Time since last sleep: 20 hours

Matt from the bunk above me is woken by the others snoring, he grabs his pillow and heads to the sofas in the lounge. It's a damned good idea, but I don't follow him, the last thing I want is to ruin his race by faffing around keeping him awake.

I take my pillow and duvet and lie down in the corridor.

No snoring out here, on the hard floor but a combination of race nerves and frustration that i can't sleep has got me in a vicious circle. 5am

Time since last sleep: 23 hours

OK, sleep didn't happen, I need to get to the race start. Pack up, get dressed, get breakfast, get on the minibus.

06:20 I'm pretty stressed now, the minibus driver is trying to encourage people onto the bus, but most people still eating, so she's having to wait.

07:00 At the village hall, tracker fitted. My mind is not in the right place to be chatting amiably. What the hell am i going to do? Can i sleep on the grass now? Will 40 minutes sleep make up for a whole lost night? I'm aware that I've got 3 layers and a wooly hat on while most other people are in t-shirts. Is my temperature regulation screwed up by the exhaustion already? I've not even started, this is so not good.

Race leg 1 - Edale to Torside

08:00 Race start. Well, back on the plan then, what else can i do. Stripped down to a t-shirt I'm feeling chilly but soon warm up as i get moving.

Time since last sleep: 26 hours

I aim to stick a bit ahead of midpack, and just remember not to push too hard.

I end up with Laura Twigg, who I was with for a good chunk of last year's race, so that's about right. As we talk, she points out that last year she had barely trained. Can i keep up with a trained Laura? For now, yeah, although we're not running "together", we pass each other a bit up to Kinder Low.

This feels like a pretty fast pace, and i get a slight twinge in my left knee.

I had a race ending IT band issue at Ring O Fire 9 months ago, but feels like a different part of my knee.

I ease off a bit nonetheless, there's a long way to go. Laura's storming away.

I end up with Charlie Bradshaw for a bit. We don't talk, but we keep overtaking each other, running our own races.

I'm eating well, I'm running well, things are pretty good. I'm about at the right pace I want to be at.

Finally introduce myself to Charlie somewhere round Bleaklow. It's got to the point where it doesn't look like one of us is breaking away, and the silence will get awkward.

Arrive at Torside, don't need a water top up.

11:44. I'm about 20 minutes up on last year's time, and not been pushing hard.

Race leg 2 - Torside to Harrop Dale

Run across the reservoir dam, but then stop for a wee (a good sign that hydration OK), and lose Charlie.

I put a bit of a spurt on to catch up, making the most of easy running before the long climb up to Laddow Rocks. When i catch Charlie, she's with Simon Alcock. Conversation about races we've done, started by my Ring O Fire T shirt.

I'm conscious not to push too hard on this climb, and I start to drop back.

Time since last sleep: 30 hours

OK, I'm a bit weary now, but just keep putting one foot in front of the other. My mood drops a bit, so I eat some sweets, put on some energetic music and I'm soon blasting along.

As soon as I hit a downhill section, I'm past Simon, Charlie and more.

The burger van is on the horizon - a cup of tea is likely. Let's go!

I do indeed get a cup of tea, and sit down to drink it properly, admiring the view by the ruined Isle of Skye hotel.

Feeling really good now.

Head off down the hill. I pass Lauren and Emma, who will finish 1st and 3rd females. I don't know that now of course, and neither do they, but it shows I was in a decent position.

I also meet Suzanne Roebuck for the first time today. She doesn't remember me, and I'm maybe over familiar, but I remember her - I saw her finish last year not long after me.

Running well generally, I take it easy on the climbs and then push on the downhills, works for me.

I get to Harrop Dale at 15:23, I'm now 40 minutes ahead of last years time.

Race leg 3 - Harrop Dale to Hebden Bridge (CP1)

Not a huge amount to say about this section.

I spend a lot of time around Suzanne, we don't chat much as such but that's fine. I don't want to slow anyone down, least of all myself, so I'm OK being a bit antisocial and focusing on my own run.

I've no need for a burger, so I just stop long enough outside Nicky's Cafe to put on a jacket.

Somewhere along here I meet Emma again, and we talk a little. On the decents, she's around my pace. I can't keep up with her on the hill out of the Calder Valley, she's strong up hill.

Eventually I arrive at CP1. It's in a different location to last year, so the times aren't comparable, but I'm probably about an hour up.

The checkpoint is great, although i do see one person vomiting outside the door and another apparently passed out on a floor with medics looking over them, so not all is well for all of us.

I'm efficient at the CP, if I say so myself. Two portions of lentil cottage pie, two cups of tea, change of clothes, charge watch, kit check, ready to go

As I remark to the CP volunteers: (a) they're amazing (b) I feel more lively than i have all day

Time since last sleep: 37 hours

There are beds here. I don't feel remotely sleepy, it's still daylight, I don't even contemplate stopping any longer.

Race leg 4 - Hebden Bridge CP1 to Malham village

I walk up the road back to the Pennine Way with Richard, who I'd not met before. By this stage in the race, everyone you meet is doing the same average pace, by definition. Some are steady in pace, some faster on downhill, etc, but we've all got to the same point in the race in the same time.

My plan is to make sure I keep some pace up overnight as much as possible. Richard is happy taking it a bit easier. He'll probably catch me up soon, but I push on, or try to.

OK, I know I need to face the sleep thing at some point. I can be as resilient mentally as i like, but humans physically need sleep, and this will catch up with me, I will crash.

I'm calculating in my head and come up with the plan - get to the Cowling semi-official feedstation as soon as possible and see if they can give me a place to sleep.

Last year I was at that stop from 04:00 to 04:30. It looks like I can arrive by 01:30, so even if I sleep for 2 hours, I'll be comfortably up on last year's time.

Around Ponden, I'm caught by Richard and Charlie again. I keep up with them, and then over Ickornshaw moor I start to drop back.

Finally I'm starting to feel pretty exhausted.

Time since last sleep: 43 hours

It's dark, I'm on an exposed moor on my own, it's getting a little windy. I don't feel exactly in danger of falling asleep on my feet, but who knows what the crash will feel like. I just need to get to the Cowling stop, it's about 2km away.

Couple of people catch me up and we trudge together into the stop.

I immediately ask where I can sleep. No chit chat.

This is a volunteer unofficial stop run by Gary Chapman, who thoroughly deserves his title of Spine Legend. He shows me into the sleeping tent. I get a room of my own with a double airbed. I'm exhausted. He'll wake me when i want, but tells me to set an alarm just in case. How perfect is this? I've been saved!

I give myself two hours, surely that's long enough to get some useful sleep.

I don't have a sleeping bag, but I put on all my layers and maneuver onto the airbed.

New discomfort hits me, my legs cramp up every time i try to move. My shoulders don't work after the weight of my pack for so long, so rolling over to get comfortable is a huge task.

The "out by the time my head hits the mattress" thing i hoped for doesn't happen.

04:00, after 2 hours I'm still awake. The whole time I was just stressing about not sleeping, or in pain due to the cramp, and really don't think I nodded off at all. I was fully conscious and anxious throughout.

Time since last sleep: 46 hours

I stagger into a chair in the eating tent. Gary and his crew are wonderful. I sit there in despair, what am I going to do? Two cups of tea and a bacon sandwich won't do any harm, I know that much.

Right, so, I talk to Gary.

He tells me to carry on, basically. He tells me to finish this race. He also tells me to bivvy when i need to, but I'm not convinced, I've just spent two hours failing to sleep on an airbed. How am I going to catch up on sleep in a plastic bag in a ditch?

Gary says he's seen lots of tired people, although he lets out "admittedly, none as bad as you". The Facebook page is full of Gary's pictures of happy runners with cups of tea. It tells a tale that he doesn't take my photo, I must look pretty bad.

Well, I'll go, what choice do I have? As I'm getting ready to leave, I see Yannick, who was at the hostel, for the first time in the race.

It's 04:28 when i leave. Last year I left at 04:30. I'm still ahead of time, despite all this.

Decision time

The next three hours are a mess emotionally and mentally.

I try and crack on, I storm past Yannick. He's walking, slow and steady, and I'm sprinting - partly to generate heat after the stop. Then I get tired, slow down and he passes me again later on.

I revisit my motivations - better last year's time, deal with the problems that occur. Can i achieve those?

If I can't, then what's the point? Wouldn't I be better off calling it now, going home. I've run 100km already, after starting in a sleep deprived state. I've done what anyone would have to say was a tough ultra, and faster than last year. That's a good story, can't I just take pride in that and go and relax somewhere?

I sit down on the picnic tables at the Hare and Hounds pub. I eat, but really I'm here to think. I'm stopped for about 30 minutes, so multiple people pass me.

I have three options as I see it:

1. Quit the race. Work out how to pick up my drop bag from the finish and catch a train from Gargave.
2. Stop in a hotel or youth hostel tonight. Sleep for a long time in a comfy bed and then walk/run to Hardraw on Monday. This would be withdrawing from the race. You're not allowed to go to hotels. Still, I could take some satisfaction from completing the distance, and I'd be able to pick up my drop bag
3. Trudge on and finish the race. It might not be pretty, but just see it through.

I Google train times, walking distances for short cuts, B&B options, working on the logistics, but all of my options seem to involve walking along the Pennine Way from Lothersdale to Gargrave, so I'm doing that then. Pack on, let's go. It's option 1, I've decided - I'm not a failure, DNFs aren't the end of the world.

It's before 6am, I get out my phone to call race HQ to see if they can deliver my drop bag to Gargrave.

I realise I can't quit without speaking to my wife first - and it's too early to wake her.

OK, nevermind, onward to Gargrave, then maybe quit with a cup of coffee.

Maybe someone in the Facebook group could help with my drop bag situation. I start to type out a post. I take a picture of myself looking a bit sad, but reconciled, to accompany it.

Oh well, that's that. Wonder what time I'll be in Gargrave for?

At the summit of Pinhaw, I meet a couple of mountain bikers. They ask how i'm feeling - been better i say, but I'm just tired.

Option 4 occurs to me.

I've got about 80km to go. The worst thing about Option 3, that really puts me off, is that at current pace I'd be up all night over places like Pen-y-Ghent and Cam Road. These are not good places to collapse from exhaustion in the dark on your own. They're exposed and it could be very cold.

So, option 4 - run like hell. Run this last 80km as fast as i possibly can, and finish with not only a course PB, but in daylight (last year i finished at 01:20).

Time since last sleep: 50 hours

This is exactly the kind of counter-intuitive nonsense plan I love. This is my motivation. The only way to avoid the collapsing from exhaustion risk is to run as hard as I can.

I've been awake longer than in my life and I'm going to run a long tough ultramarathon. It's the only option which makes sense.

Here I go

So, let's do this - assess where I am. I've eaten well, my legs still work, I have no blisters.

At the back of my mind, I do know there are places i could safely bail - Malham, Horton - but i push such thoughts back.

By this stage in the race, most people i encounter are walking, so i surge past with barely a word said. Dean Corrie is particularly baffled by how i got behind him and why I'm running past him.

I get some orange juice from the Co-Op at 9am.

When i say, run like hell, obviously that needs to be tempered, it's still a long way, so I'm not going to be sprinting. But I can do my normal try as hard as I can ultra thing, walk up hills, shuffle as fast as i can down.

The likes of Simon and Yannick aren't varying their pace so much, they're much steadier. I'm not here to think about their race tactics, all i need to do is run in the most efficient way i can to get to the end in daylight before i collapse.

I get into Malham village. It's 10:55. Despite it all, I'm now 80 minutes up on last year - finishing in daylight is looking possible, if I can keep pushing.

Race leg 5 - Malham village to Hardraw (Finish)

I have to repack my bag at Malham Cove - bits are pushing into my back. That done, it's the trudge up the steps, then over the limestone pavement, I end up with Simon and Tony for this bit and we arrive together at CP1.5.

I have a cup of tea and head out after a sock change.

Some big hills on this leg - so i just stick to my tactic of walk up, run down. Yannick seems a bit amused as i pelt past him yet again on the descent from Fountains Fell. As I've been all over the place mentally and in terms of pace, he's just getting the job done consistently,

The place i hope to make up most time is the Pen-y-Ghent descent, so I take it easy on the way up to stay fresh.

 It's at the summit that my first injury niggle appears - I can feel something odd in my left heel. Am I going to tear my Achilles tendon and ruin everything right now?

No, that would be silly, so I abandon the plan to run down this hill, and let Yannick pass me again. My thoughts turn to ice-cream, for that is important too. I had a rubbish ice-cream at Malham, and I know there's a shop that does proper dairy ice-cream in Horton. I work out the pace i need to do to get there before 17:00, i won't make it unless i speed up.

I test jogging a bit, it's not comfortable on the stones, but my ankle seems to have sorted itself. OK then, just need to run enough to get this ice-cream. Success, I arrive at 16:57, buy some drinks and enjoy my Cadbury's Creme Egg ice-cream. Is there a better food than this, right now? Unlikely!

I also take some painkillers, I'm going to need my feet to feel less horrible if I'm going to push up this hill. The aim is simple, go as fast as I can. Overtake people if I catch them. It goes well, and I do indeed catch glimpse of two people up ahead.

Time since last sleep: 59 hours. Yeah, whatever.

Some tunes - a compilation playlist of the music my mum had in her car when we were kids. Some classic sixties soul, bit of Bob Dylan, and my mum's attempts to keep up with contemporary music as well, so Eurythmics, Springsteen, late period Talking Heads. It does the job of keeping my spirits up.

Yeah!

Turning off the road at Ten End, the path is a bit tricky to follow, but so much easier in the daylight. I catch up to Charlie - who i hadn't seen since before Cowling. She's now leaning to one side pretty badly. After a few words, I pass. Sorry i didn't express more sympathy or chat for long, I was on a mission.

And then it's just down, past the highland cows, couple of fields then I'm on to the road. I can cruise now, a daylight finish is assured. I've done it! I'm letting myself process all the emotions, and slightly wondering if I'll be able to avoid crying at the finish.

The Race to the Finish

But... coming into the last field, I hear a voice. Maybe Charlie? I turn round to look. Crap! It looks like Nigel Martin, and he's running.

I'd met Nigel at the hostel on Friday, and he's a serious runner. Like he's done the full Winter Spine sort of serious. He'd taken this race easy to start with, as he was accompanying his brother, not chasing a time for himself. But now he's not with his brother, and he looks like he's sprinting.

He's in the same field as me, maybe 250 metres behind.

My whole mindset filps in an instant. I'm now in a flat out race.

Time since last sleep: 64 hours

No bloody way is anyone taking this position from me now. I don't care who it is, they are not passing me.

I've got over 4km to go. As quick as i can, i ditch the music, stow my poles and get my phone in my hand so i can follow the GPX track. I can not afford 15 seconds on a wrong turn. He's seriously chasing.

And I run, trying to pace it like a 5km race. My feet were pretty sore a moment ago. That pain is gone, all that matters is that Nigel doesn't overtake me. And he's in on the race too, he's really on it.

I like to say I'm not competitive with other people, most of the time, and it's largely true. But this is a running race after all, so I'm running and I'm racing.

Every time I glance over my shoulder, I see Nigel, I reckon he's gaining. Into the streets of Hawes, I don't have the view behind, so he could be even closer.

This final intense finish takes 32 minutes. According to Strava, only one person in the Challenger did that segment quicker, Tim Piggot the winner.

I slow down to catch my breath before putting on a full on sprint for the last few hundred metres, just in case he's close enough and has something spectacular left.

The checkpoint staff are baffled by my ridiculous out of breath sprint into the field. They wonder if I'm racing a hallucination, as there's apparently nobody on my tail. Nigel arrives after 5 minutes, he'd backed out of the race, presumably realising i was much more stupid than him!

The aftermath

I finished in a total time of 37:48, about 3.5 hours faster than last year.

Checkpoint staff were great, giving out bowls of chilli. Unfortunately the pub with beds was full, and the best offer for accomodation was a tent, and i had no sleeping bag. Beggars can't be choosers.

I spent about 4 restless hours with as much clothing as i could get on, but i didn't sleep.

I got up at 4am. The sun's about to come up, and it's cold.

Time since last sleep: 70 hours

I went to chat to the volunteers. I'm exhausted, I desperately need sleep, and warmth but i can't get either. I've never been awake for 70 hours before - who has, it's not sensible. But what could i do.

I pace round the field and have a warm drink. The first train is at 07:00, so I'm stuck here for now.

I move to the volunteers tent where they have the cooker, as it's the warmest place around. They're chatting about some nutter who did a sprint finish after 108 miles last night, convinced he was being pursued. Ah, that would be me.

Eventually it feels like the crash is happening. I try to lie down on the grass and sleep. A nice medic comes over and orders me up into a chair. Getting cold on the ground is not what i need. She's right. We have a bit of a chat where she assesses that there's nothing wrong with me other than needing some jam on toast and a hot chocolate, and these things appear!

Cliche, but the volunteers really are wonderful, all of them, as far as I'm concerned.

I decide that at 05:00 I'll walk to the station with my drop bag. The two hour walk will warm me up. The checkpoint manager refuses to let me - she very kindly arranges a lift for me and orders me to stay around until 06:30, not go wandering 9km along a main road. As she's talking I realise we went to University together - mentally I'm still with it, and I didn't even hallunicate.

When we finally get on the train, three of us Challenger finishers, the conductor comes with what he thinks is some bad news. We can sit in this empty, heated train, but it won't be leaving yet. Problem with the signals, it'll have to wait in the station for half an hour. I lay my head on the bag, take a selfie and doze off.

Happy with that?

Yeah, I am.

Faster than last year? Yep

Sub 36 hours? No

Dealt with some unexpected issues? Yep.

I can't quite believe I pulled that off as well as I did. I was feeling so rough at the start even, with the sleep deprivation. 

At one point I'd been 3 hours up on last years time, then wasted all that trying to sleep, and still pulled back another 3 hours.

The learning point is to make sure I get somewhere decent to sleep before a big race. Lots of people managed in the hostel dorms, I didn't get any sleep. It's not for me, and I'm pleased to say I've got a room in the Ramblers for the night before the Sprint in January...

Thanks to basically everyone I encountered. You were all lovely.