The big one for the year. All the training building up to this. There was the possibility of a Montane Tea Round but this was the one I really wanted to finish having failed 4 years ago. The Lakeland Trails Ultra 55k is their July offering with a 14k, 23k and 100k on the same day. The 55k doesn't cover anything high, not even a single Wainwright, and instead crosses 3 mountain passes and 7000+ ft of ascent (my garmin only counted 5000ft- bastard). It aims for stunning views over peaks and on that it most certainly delivers. It isn't advertised as a beginners ultra but it does welcome first timers.
Sadly, I wasn't a first timer; I failed to finish this race in 2018. My dream stopped at 20 miles ish, as we hit the Langdale valley and I decided I couldn't carry on. On reflection, there was so much here I had done wrong, and 2022 I was determined to learn from all of that.
As usual, there was good pre event information on the Lakeland trails website and a few pre event reminder emails particularly about kit lists. The GPX had been slightly altered to account for trees still down around Lanty Tarn (is that footpath ever going to reopen?!) but it was still the route I expected and knew from last time and the recces.
You can register and kit check on the Friday (or Saturday) and I fortunately flew through kit check. Previously I had been stressed about how to carry my kit and what to take, being a bit less experienced but also not having the kit I had now. For the record, the required kit was: hat and gloves (Harrier buff, ron hill light weight cotton gloves), top and bottom taped seam waterproofs (salomon light weight waterproof and UD deluge trousers, both in stuff sacks), whistle (standard pete bland whistle), head torch (Petzl Nao +), 100ml fluid and food emergency (capri sun and outdoor provisions cocoa butter sachet), emergency foil blanket (from a race), first aid kit (harrier plus some extra blister plasters and paracetamol) and a spare base layer (asics long sleeve light weight). All this was bundled in to my Harrier Kinder 10L. For reference I had used a bum bag and a hydration pack before. On top of the required kit I had my harrier poles and also a selection of chia charge bars, precision hydration sachets and tail wind plus a block of Kendal mint cake for traditions sake. And a spare set of shoe laces (I am still scarred from the last shoe incident). I was feeling okay until I turned round and Katie Kaars Sijipstein was registering....then I got imposter syndrome big time.
By the time I rocked up on the start field the next morning I was extremely nervous, not sure whether I would cry or vomit. I had walked the dog first thing, managed toast, and was correctly kitted out with no concerns in that direction. It was also already over 20 degrees. Fortunately I spotted a friend who was also running and dragged poor Martin and the dog to chat with her. And in the vague catching up of three years of life in the 20 minutes we had, I began to feel better. We ended up at the back of the start pen, dibbed in (Sportident dibbers make me happy even if they are a phaff for some), but hanging out the back of the fenced off area. It was clearly a popular option to start at 9am rather than the official mass start at 10am. The park was actually really busy as parkrun was holding fire to let us all out the park before they went off, so there was a good stream of spectators to see us off.
The first part of the course is a steady climb from Rothay park up to Stocks ghyll water fall through Ambleside which was all tarmac. At Stocks ghyll it gets a bit steeper and I opted to walk a bit. The route then follows this pass all the way to the 'Struggle'. It is good underfoot even after the tarmac runs out and I was making reasonable walking and running progress but needed to stop for a quick wild wee and knew I needed to do this before we got in to the open area further up. Fortunately there was a side path where I could walk off the course briefly.... Worryingly I then didn't wee for about 11 hours but no long term effects hopefully. Trotting along the track it was already warm and climbing up the Struggle to the Kirkstone pass summit (and check point 1) was beginning to feel baking. It was very still with no breeze. I had had a bit of sip from my electrolytes and water, and a bite of flapjack, so didn't refill at the checkpoint but fortunately did remember to dib in.
The next section then heads down the footpath adjacent to the Kirstone pass. This was really a testament to how far we had climbed as it goes on for a good way. There was a reasonable degree of congestion, especially as it was a more trail terrain section and some people who had climbed the good path up were clearly less confident. There also wasn't much room to pass so bar a few very needed overtakes I settled in and trotted between the boulders and over the bogs and enjoyed the incredible views of Patterdale and Ullswater beginning to unfold below me. Views was definitely the highlight of the day: the incredibly clear weather would mean peaks unfolding for miles at many points on the course. Next to Brother's water there was a bit of shade but it was brief. There were already people blowing up SUPs to start paddling and it must have been a pain for them with us all going past.
At Hartsop the race crosses on to a much more solid track which I remembered going on for miles last time I did it. It links with a section from the Lakeland Trails Ullswater course and I remembered how opposite the weather had been that weekend. I kept an eye to check I wasn't going too quick but was worried that I already felt tired; not horrendously tired but there was definitely something in my legs. I walked a few short ramps and tried not to worry about it. As I neared the Patterdale end, the front runner from the 10am passed me and I expected to have a stream of people come past but he was very much on his own, and would go on to win the race by a margin. The left turn through the farm to cross the bottom of Ullswater at Patterdale eventually came and we began to bump in to the 100k guys who had had a reasonable night but apparently some had managed to get confused around Haweswater....
Martin and the dog had planned to meet me a Glenridding and just before the road section to Patterdale I text to let them know I was nearly there. It had taken me the upper limit of my estimate but I guessed the heat meant it was going to be a tough day. They were stood waiting for me on the road up to check point 2 with a soft bottle of Tailwind made up. I actually ended up drinking most of this straight up as I was really thirsty and pretty much out of water. From now on I was going to carry 3x500ml bottles. I'd chosen to swap from water to tailwind here, and keep one electrolytes going, because it was hot enough to warrant the electrolytes but I also wanted to get my poles out, and I just don't eat when I have poles in my hand. I actually felt a bit bad as I rushed this little meeting and headed in to a very busy checkpoint, dibber on the door, and topped up all three bottles, took a bit of a banana and headed out again. My strategy was quick through checkpoint as I knew you can end up bogged down and losing time. In my head I was worried about cut offs but also, quietly and stupidly at the back of my mind, wanted to see how close to 10 hours I could go. I wanted to do relatively well in my first ultra. I was letting the ego out a bit.
I was dreading the next section to Grasmere for a host of reasons: its open, exposed and hot, its a massive climb that last time I felt I never wanted to do again, the fast people were coming through, and last time I fell coming down the other side which added to my DNF. It made a conscious decision to go slow, low heart rate. The initial section is steep, with a climb up to Lanty tarn, and a chap from my club came running past (he went on to be fourth at V50+ - Rob you are a legend!) among many others to overtake me. I jogged past the tarn and in to the bracken where my poles were actually a bit of a pain in the arse. I kept standing aside to let people through and wondered if I should be making more of an effort to jog as this section was very gentle on the uphill, in fact it undulates. I kept with my low and slow heart rate and tried not to let my head go to that dark place. I popped on a podcast, and kept moving forward. The bracken thinned out, the rocks increased and we started to climb Grisedale pass proper. I was still being overtaken, but mostly by stronger runners from the second wave. Most people were walking. I also started to catch a few other up. One runner stopped and started vomiting inn front of me. I stopped and checked he was okay, wasting five minutes despite his protestations but there was no way I could just walk past. Someone commented later, and I pointed out I have GMC registration to maintain. It also gave me a rest. As we reached the top of the pass it was so hot and there was no shade. Then we dipped in to the slight bowl of Grisedale tarn and a cool breeze started. The views from the top across the central fells were simply amazing. I could have stayed all day, and joined the few people swimming and splashing in the tarn but I thought I better get on as Martin would be waiting. I was already over time for this section.
I think I upset a few people on the descent as my fell running legs sort of came in to their own. It was quite steep, especially off the top, and a bit rocky. I was cautious not to over do it and wreck my quads but I found this slightly more technical section enjoyable. My poles were as much help on the down as the up. I made progress down well and overtook several people. There were a few people climbing up from Grasmere including the most lovely group of American ladies who were so stereotypically enthusiastic it was awesome. I managed to stay upright this year and was pleased to hit the track then the road and give my quads a bit of a break from the descent, even as I started the incredibly hot trot to Grasmere along the A591. Crossing the fields a few people were starting to look how I felt; hot and bothered. As I jogged across the last field Martin and Oscar appeared and I had to keep running (it was shuffling on the video) by the checkpoint.
Oscar had been for a swim and I was somewhat envious. I chatted to Martin who had struggled to park but then got himself a nice Lancrig lunch when he realised I was going to be some time (£6 all day, redeemable against food in their lovely bar restaurant if you ever need to know). I took a bit more time at this checkpoint, refilling all three bottles, topping up with the tailwind and wishing I had more of it. The tailwind was an amazing addition as I felt too hot to eat (something that got worse as we went on) but I could keep drinking calories whilst it lasted. I popped in for a cup of cola but inside the checkpoint was way too hot. Martin made me eat a sandwich and a bit of chia charge flapjack (usual go to run snack these days). He walked me through Grasmere which was mobbed with weekend tourists but also the annual Rush service. We reached the turn off at the garden centre and I remember feeling suddenly lonely as they went the other way, probably for the only time on the route. I sort of jogged but mostly walked out of Grasmere, slightly overwhelmed by the heat of the lower valley floor.
The right hander by the fairy cafe marked the start of the next climb. It was a much shorter climb than Grisedale but it is also where my race fell apart last time. I remembered that last time we were mingled with the 23k-ers but this time is was much quieter. People came past me again but I stuck with the low heart rate option. I was trying not to think about how tired I was feeling and how hot it was. I knew the route from here until we left Elterwater pretty well despite not having race it and it seemed so very long. But the top of the pass came and I got moving again, run walking on the narrow path through the bracken, the poles once again getting in the way but also useful at the wider sections. The Langdale pikes came in to view as well as Crinkle Crags. The valley below seemed very large to be looping around later. I had a quick chat with a lovely lady whose husband was supposed to run with her and we would bump in to each other a few times. I think its something you get in to in an ultra, sort of a cluster of similar speed people who drift forward and back around each other around their strong and weak sections. Hitting the bottom of the valley again, I realised I was about to run past the point of drop out last time. I was moving okay, I was carrying on and I gave a little thought of thanks to getting here. Then I ran right past the marshal and in to the valleys to start the loop....
The first section was on a well made but undulating path that takes you through a bit of tree lining (shade- hallelujah!) but undulates in that stride breaking manner. I walk-jogged with my polls, spotting several 100 mile runners and being over taken and overtaking in equal measure. A checkpoint eventually appeared at what was apparently wall end but it was limited to water and they were rationing that so I just filled a single bottle before starting to climb through the old wood over to Little Langdale. Somewhere here my right contact lens started to malfunction and steadily deteriorated with salt and sun cream. Coming in to little Langdale I was sort of on my own and was pleased to see some course markings to reassure myself I was on the right course. Then the course joined a road and I got stuck in a complete pile up of cars that I couldn't even pass as a pedestrian. This was a bit annoying and as soon as I could I suck past, annoying the drivers. But I was heading for Slater's bridge which is such a lovely spot. I was also now sort of running at a similar pace to another runner. Crossing the bridge and on to the lane my vision was deteriorating and at one point a man came out a house and asked if I needed water, making me think it was a checkpoint which was moderately embarrassing. I was run walking this section, which takes you through a bit of old quarry and then along the valley to rejoin the road (which becomes Hardknott).
I walked all the way up the road, with several people overtaking me. I was struggling again. I could hardly see and even when we turned off the road to run across the fell towards Blea Tarn I couldn't really pick up the pace. I couldn't see the rocks either which was slightly disconcerting. I tried again to get my brain out of the negative space. More podcasts. I knew once we hit Blea tarn I would have a nice path for a bit and also run past where Martin proposed a few years ago. I kept moving forward, and tried to appreciate the beck spilling down from the tarn, which you don't really see from the other direction. Eventually we made it to blea tarn and I tried to text Martin before realising it was still a sigal dead zone. There were a few people about at the tarn, but not many. I clocked the time at this point and realised it was already late afternoon/early evening; where had the time gone? I'd been hours and hours already. My sub 10 goal was clearly not a go-er.
After another quick checkpoint (I was now on pure water and not really fuelling at all), I enjoyed the zig zags down to Great Langdale less than I remembered and shuffled though the campsite at the bottom. I felt terrible and was only buoyed by the fact I might see Martin at the bottom (but also worried as I couldn't tell him I was on my way and he might leave). We'd been at the Old Dungeon Ghyll a few days before and a half of juice and lemonade would do wonders right now. Instead I joined the Cumbrian Way and bobbled up and down on its rocky surface, trying to run a bit to get to Stickle Barn. The crowd felt thin now. My hamstrings were shouting, especially on the right. Would Martin even be at the barn?
He was sat on the terrace enjoying the sun with a soggy Oscar dog who had been swimming in the ghyll. I sent him to the bar with a request for a pint of orange and lemonade at this unofficial check point. The dog licked me and fussed, clearly seeing I'd been running without him and was in pain. I sat on the low bench and it was great to stretch my hips out. The pint of orange juice and lemonade, combined with Martin's reassurance that I was going to get it done ('Its six mile now- you can run six miles any day!') picked me up so much I got off that bench and got running. Whether it was the cold, the sugar or the reassurance I ran all along the road, across the field and old stopped when I started the steps that carry the Cumbrian way across the side of the fell. I kept walking and resumed the jog shuffle on the very loose rock that make up this undulating path. I remember running it in reverse the first time (a few years before) and thinking how terrible it would be this far in, and it was THAT bad but it was slow. And then we were passing the marshals that marked the end of the loop of doom as I thought of it and heading toward Chapel Stile and Elterwater! I started chatting to a lovely lady who was supposed to be running the hundred but whose husband had also dropped out (seemed a theme!). She was a much stronger runner but it made me realise I could keep running on this flat section. We chatted right in to the checkpoint at Chapel Stile school, which was much smaller than I remembered (just a table orr two outside). I topped up bottles and thought about food before leaving it, and walked out chewing a little bit of Kendal mint cake.
I walked a bit through Chapelstile and in to Elterwater, appreciating the pretty section by the Rothay, and the pretty village of Elterwater with people in the Britannia. It was definitely a bit cooler. THe road felt sore against my feet but at least my brain got a break and by now my contact lens was terrible. The climb up to the youth hostel wasn't as bad as I had remembered and I started to notice I was still able to run on some sections, over taking people again. The descent towards the bridleway to Loughrigg tarn was all road and I clattered down with my poles. The few people I passed were very hot, and very tired.
I'd actually not done the path along Loughrigg tarn and couldn't believe how beautiful it was. It was very runnable too and I shuffled along. It all seemed to be taking longer to start the climb to Loughrigg that I was waiting for. I ended up chatting to a chap who was on the later start, and we started the climb together. It was good to chat, and we made good progress albeit at walking speed, over the last fell. Mountain Rescue were collecting a man off the course who had collapsed. Rather embarrassingly, I just sort of pushed past, my head no longer acknowledging social norms. I was going to finish!
The top came quickly and I asked my companion, is there another bit of climb (he was local)? We he said no, I apologised, paused and called Martin to let me know I was going to start descending. My companion descended like he had only just started running and I went behind much slower. The bridle path was better than I remember and I passed a few very done people. I couldn't decide if my poles were helping or hindering. I couldn't see out of one eye. My feet ached and one of my toes was suggesting a toenail was going to be collateral. But I was running. And I kept running past the cottage and the posh house that mark the top of the road section (it felt so far to here compared to my memory of the route), over the cattle grid and left over the foot bridge that leads to Rothay Park. The path up the park seemed to take forever but I was running and kept running to that finish line.
I was relieved of my dibber, handed my time (a little under 10:30 so not entirely terrible), and offered a tee shirt and medal. I staggered out the tent to Martin and Oscar and promptly lay down on the grass in a definitive way that meant I wasn't getting up quickly. The dog licked my face, Martin was so pleased I'd finished (mostly so we could go back to the apartment and stop driving round the Lakes). I really struggled with my eyes (I couldn't open them without pain). My muscles finally stopped working and everything hurt. I was probably a bit hypoglycaemic and all the adrenalin finally stopped. It was done and I was an ultramarathon runner, even if a very slow one.
Then the shaking started and it was time to get me back to the apartment before things got worse. Walking was difficult mostly due to foot pain. I got Martin to text my Mum I was okay as I started to get messages panicking (she had no concept of how long it would take me). We hobbled back slowly and after a shower, some pizza, and a lot more fluid I felt better. I realised I hadn't wee'd all day which as a doctor I can tell you is not a good sign. The next day I managed to walk the dog despite the tightest my achilles have ever been and few other niggles. A dip in Grasmere did for that, and then we had lunch with Carol and I realised I had faired better than most with minimal sunburn, next to no chaffing and no obvious injuries. Aside from the collapsed guy, there were reports of people effectively flayed by their packs, raw skin from burns and blisters from sweaty feet in sweaty shoes. There were however a lot of finishers in Grasmere and surround, testament to how many people had finished. They kept the finish open way past the cut off with finish times of over 14 hours. Later my splits also revealed that I made steady progress in the pack, moving up from check point to check point from very near the back to very much within the middle half of the race.
On reflection, it was not a terrible first ultramarathon finish. I kept moving, my kit worked and I finished with no injuries. Yes, I needed extra support from Martin. I also completely obliterated my plan for eating and managed on far less than I should have; I found three flapjacks with a bite out of them and half a (small ish) mint cake bar suggesting all I ate was the other bits of those, the section of banana and the tailwind sachets (3 sticks). I also nearly put myself in to renal failure but that seemed to recover quickly enough. The other thing I have learnt is that I need to properly recover. I went on to nightshifts on the Monday and I was still swollen all over my body with blood sugars all over the place, then ran on the Wednesday for 2 miles to check for injuries. I then worked a lot of nights and long days, as well as going to London for my sisters hen do, applied for two consultant posts, and lived through the hottest weather Britain has ever recorded. Ultimately, this delayed my recovery and I am still struggling with fatigue both on runs and in life a month later.
I also was at a wedding the other weekend and saw the Lakeland 50/100 guys dropping down the fell to Coniston....I watched their headtorches bobbing around the Langdale Valley on the way home and thought....'Well, that looks fun...'
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