Hey look! A blog! Read this for a heroic regaling of an epic adventure across the most brutal course in THE toughest conditions. No hyperbole here, promise...
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| Photo: Ian Corless |
This was my final race of the ultrarunning season (aka the calendar year), having had a fairly mixed bag performance-wise this year. I finished 18th at the Haworth Hobble 50k back in March, which served as the selection race for GB at the world trail champs. Nothing about that race went to plan. I then had an enjoyable race at Transvulcania, finishing in the top 100 but without performing as well as I wanted competition-wise. I then finished 19th at the Mozart 100k, part of the Ultra Trail World Tour, which went horribly, but taught me lots about ultrarunning (I.e. how to keep going for 10 hours even though you feel like lying down and stopping). So I went in to my final race wanting to finish on a high and lay down a marker for 2018.
Before I even started structuring training towards the race though, things went wrong. At the start of September, on the bike ride into work for a weekend on call, a car drove into the back of me and knocked me off, breaking both my arm and my bike (There are two types of people in this world- people who care more about breaking their arm in this situation, and cyclists). Long story short, in the last five weeks before the race, I was able to do about 10 days of proper training and one long run.
This meant that I readjusted my expectations/ambitions from aiming to compete (win/podium/top 5 to top 10) to just go round and see how it went. Lakes in a Day was a race that appealed as a point to point, logical race that went through some beautiful parts of the Lakes with the added bonus that the harder stuff came first, so even if I started struggling fitness wise it wouldn't be too terrible late on.
To add to the lack of race fitness, I picked up a nasty cold the week before the race and then the weather really rolled in on race day-poor visibility, prolonged rain and high winds meant a forecast of 0 Celsius on the summits. Everyone had to run in those conditions though, and given the snotting and sniffing in the early miles pretty much everyone else seemed to have a deathly flu.
The first hill began as a road climb and then led out on to the open fell. It wasn't long before the clag closed in. There was a large group running together but it quickly split as some chose the firmer path that turned up hill sooner, whilst others (myself included) followed the race line across open ground. We all met up again a few minutes later in almost the same positions, so no advantages had been gained. It became clear, though, that there wasn't a specific person to follow that looked like they knew the route and the fastest line- if someone had reccied the course, that advantage seemed lost in the clag. This was further evident on the climb to Blencathra (after crossing a
I was in and out of the checkpoint at Threlkeld, grabbing some food to take with me and overtaking most of the guys who had passed me on the descent. Chloe had waited around to watch me through, but I resisted the temptation to reward her patience by talking to her very much, and carried on towards the next big climb, up Clough Head.
I'm not sure how Wainwright describes the ascent to Clough Head from Threlkeld, but I'm pretty sure I'm paraphrasing him when I call it a 'bastard climb'. The gradient up grassy trod hits 40% in places, and it was slow going for the ~1200ft climb over two-thirds of a mile. There was a group of 6 or 7 of us spread out along this climb, and I think we all pretty much ascended at the same pace.
The section from Clough Head to Helvellyn ensured the race got strewn out, though (and ended for some people, I think). It's no exaggeration to say that visibility was close to zero. Add in the 45mph winds and driving rain, which intermittently turned to hail, and all notion of racing this section went out of the window. In truth, it wasn't until I turned up in Ambledside, cold and hungry and nearly 20 miles later, that I was able to get back into a mindset of 'racing'. I'd done this section once or twice, including in reverse during a race, but I had no recollection or orientation of it in these conditions. As I worried I might, I lost the racing line at one point and ended up following the footpath up to Great Dodd; extra climbing that wasn't needed. I got myself back on route, and this ended up being the only real nav error I made.
I came close to making a big mistake after Helvellyn, though. I was in a group of 5 or 6, all running for 3rd place. At one point around Lower Man I stopped to put some gloves on, as the cold started to hit, and the group I was with vanished into the clag within about 20 seconds. In hindsight, this might have kept my race in check- I didn't see most of those runners again and I think they may have ended up following the footpath that descends from Helvellyn to Thirlmere. The one runner in this group who I did see again was Katie Kaars Sijpesteijn, and we ended up running mostly within view of each other for the next 30 miles to the finish.
Grisedale Tarn was a welcome relief from the higher ground- it was the first time we could appreciate some Lakeland views and the wind finally eased. The relief was short-lived as we climbed back up to Rydal Head. A long descent to Ambleside and it's checkpoint brought an end to the horrendous conditions.
Ambleside to Cartmel was the final 20 mile stretch, and even accounting for ultra-shuffling in the later miles, I knew that time-wise a large chunk of the race was done. I had aimed for something around 5 and a half hours to Ambleside, so was roughly 30 minutes off my intended time. I took a few minutes at the checkpoint to regroup, change shoes from Inov-8 X talons to a pair of more cushioned Scott Supertrac RCs, a clear sign that the race from this point leaves the fells behind and is majority trail. Katie had barely even stopped at the checkpoint, so I left Ambleside in dry shoes in 3rd place.
I saw Chloe, my mum and my dogs in Ambleside park. They reckoned at this point that Marcis was about 12 minutes ahead in first. I felt strong and ready to charge- I knew that the smoother trails might favour me and so had the mindset that I had 20 miles to make up 12 minutes. I caught back up with Katie around Low Wray and pulled ahead gradually on the smooth, undulating trails. I was feeling good! The terrain and profile of this section felt like my day to day runs in South Devon, where every run I do is a rollercoaster of 300ft hills, and for 6 or 7 miles I felt like I was going to sail through this section. Never count on anything being predictable in ultras though. Just before we hit the lakeshore, I saw my Mum and Chloe and found out that the gap to Marcis was now down to 8 minutes. However, I think he had rallied from an earlier fall and was now looking strong and controlled. Between the lake and the final aid station, I was to have a couple of low points over a few miles that ended my chase. Marcus widened the gap that he held to the finish, and it became a race for 2nd.
I still couldn't see Katie behind me but things started to go wrong on the climb to Finsthwaite and the final checkpoint. The legs felt heavy, I felt hungry, thirsty and lightheaded. In previous races, I might not have been able to sort myself out at this point and would have lost positions. I ended up arriving into the checkpoint at the same time as Katie. Again, she left quicker but this time I had an enforced stop to allow a new tracker to be fitted as mine was apparently showing me in, rather than alongside, Lake Windermere.
The final 8 miles took nearly 1.5 hours- there were still a few nasty short climbs on tired legs and the paths from here were showing the effects of several days of torrential rain. Katie and I crossed through Newby Bridge together and began a long road climb back to the hills. This was where I made a move, running up the climb and just keeping that relentless forward progress going. At Finsthwaite I had regrouped, got some coke and chocolate on board and my energy levels had now returned and I committed to running as many of the climbs as possible. This was the best I felt at the end of a race and I was determined to just get it done as quick as possible, and pushed the energy levels as much as I could on all of the final, short climbs that led to the final road mile to Cartmel and the finish. With fading light, Cartmel came into view and I shuffled my legs as quick as they could to try and avoid needing to get the headtorch out in the race. A quick last minute attempt to get lost was averted by Katie's husband Casper as I initially ran past the turn into the finish, and then I was met by the adoring crowd of Chloe and my Mum. I crossed the line and fell into a long, loving embrace with my dogs. There was a camera crew to capture the moment, and I tried my best to give a witty interview. The proof that I failed in doing this will be when I don't make the cut of the race video.
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| With my fans |
Well done to everyone who finished a tough course in incredibly tough conditions. A huge thanks to James at Open Adventure and all volunteers for putting on a really good event, despite conditions no doubt making things harder. A particular well done to Marcis Gubats for a dominant performance, leading pretty much the entire way. And to Katie Kaars Sijpesteijn for smashing the course record just a few weeks after Glencoe Skyline.
Some stats:
Lakes in a Day, 50.4 miles. 2nd place, 10:43
https://www.strava.com/activities/1221626548
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Kit:
Inov 8 X talons 200 (to Ambleside)
Scott Supertrac RC (from Ambleside)
Injinji toe socks
Salomon S-lab Sense Ultra Set 5L
Inov 8 Stormshell
Inov 8 Softshell
Trekmates Merino Baselayer
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