At 8:45 pm on Saturday, I was enjoying the conversations with my
support crew and, even as someone who is rather introverted, enjoying taking
centre stage. By 8:50 however, I was a bag of nerves and a series of questions
kept popping into my head: Why did you pick late August; A long night stint is
a daft idea; Are you really ready for this; How will Kate cope with looking
after the road support teams having never done this before. After driving
myself mad for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only two minutes,
I realised I needed to take myself off and sort my head out before the off.
When I did, the answers were crystal clear.
Why did you pick late August? It was the timing that best suited *me*
and allowed me to get the training in that I wanted to beforehand without
feeling rushed for time.
A long night stint is a daft idea; You have two excellent headtorches,
one for each leg. You even enjoy running at night. Man up
Are you really ready for this? Yes, you’ve put the work in now go and
enjoy your day like you said you were going to.
How will Kate cope with looking after the road support teams?
Brilliantly, she knows what’s needed at each one and what I’ll likely be after
to eat and drink. All the others at each point will be more than willing (and
able) to do a sterling job.
Having convinced myself that it was simply paranoia, I came back from
my quiet moment in a completely different mindset. Rather than questions, I now
only had thoughts that would help - namely put one foot in front of the other,
keep eating and drinking, think only of the next peak and try to have a
brilliant day out with my mates. I was ready.
After a little more waiting, it was time for the off (well I was still
waiting for my watch to tick towards 9 when Kate (whose watch was the
“official” start / finish timer) pointed out that it was 9 and “shouldn't you be
going?” At which point my 4 pacers, Greg Martin, Bill, and Steve accompanied me
down Keswick high street and towards the fells.
Having left the town centre, it was a simple case of settling into a
rhythm as we crossed the Greta and cruised through fitz park before joining the
track up the flanks of Latrigg before heading up the motorway to the top of Skiddaw.
Despite a brief moment of ineptitude from me when I stopped at the shelter
rather than the trig, a very comfortable trip up Skiddaw was complete more or
less on schedule.
Dropping off Skiddaw, we headed a fraction south of the desired line,
so started descending the rock rather than the grass to the fence post. No
matter as this was quickly rectified and we were soon heading to the very boggy
valley floor and across the path to Skiddaw house before heading up the flanks
of Great Calva. At the summit we were close enough to the schedule that there
was no concern and headed back towards the fence crossing where Bill was
helpfully lighting the way.
Not wanting to do anything daft in the dark, we took the safety first
approach of following the fence line down the descent to reach the gate before
following the trod towards the Caldew. It was somewhere on this section that I was
attacked on the shin by a bear.* I was rather nervous of looking at the damage
as it felt like it might be a serious gash, and the concern in Greg’s voice was
noticeable at this point. Fortunately though, it was just a lumpy bruise and a
graze.
Panic averted we headed to cross the Caldew, which was only knee deep
(for me at least) and set off up the trudge over Mungrisdale common towards
Blencathra. I passed the time on the climb by eating, drinking and worrying as
I started to feel the first twinges of cramp in my calves and hip flexors. As
this hadn’t occurred on any of my previous recces, I was rather surprised but
thought I may as well get on with it and trudged on up.
As the top was approaching, the mist rolled in and a minor bout of
summit wandering ensued, no bother though as the top was reached more or less
on schedule and my thoughts turned to the corned beef hash and warm welcome
that hopefully was awaiting me in Threlkeld.
Having enjoyed wandering in the mist so much on the way up, I thought
I’d add a little bit more unnecessary rambling, but that was soon rectified and
we were off on the correct route down Doddick fell. The descent felt reasonably sensible, but chatting to my supporters it may not have felt that
sedate for some. J
As we reached the path at the bottom of Doddick, the cramps were coming
with more regularity, and upon a little bracken bashing to try and reach the
gate, both hip flexors locked in pain. At this point I may have sworn. As the
cramps eased I knew I needed to move, but more pertinently, I knew that at that
moment I had to make a firm choice in my head to keep going no matter how bad
the cramps may get until it either passed or I reached the end. Decision made,
and fully focused on the job at hand, I then hobbled my way towards Threlkeld.
As we crossed the A66 and headed to the care of my waiting support crew
of Kate, Roger, and my mum and dad, the last of my concerns vanished as I was
treated to a formula 1 standard pit-stop where I was fed, watered, and exchanged
some kit in a super smooth fashion and was soon ready for the off.
Splits for interest (Scheduled times in brackets)
Skiddaw 81 (82)
Great Calva 46 (44)
Blencathra 70 (68)
Arrive Threlkeld 34 (35)
Leg time 3:51 (3:49)
*rather than a bear, it may actually have been a pointy rock in a hole
that I stupidly fell into.
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