It wasn’t the most auspicious start to the race; I arrived in the Lakes with my trusty support crew Rob on Thursday evening and as I opened the door to the back of the van, a 30kg fuel can fell on my foot. Cue much unladylike cursing as I nursed my sore foot and stared at it for the next couple of hours willing it not to swell and bruise. With some luck and emergency ice spray, all seemed well. Phew, I hadn’t come this far to have to bail out with a broken foot!
Nigel and I and the other 120 or so runners set off from Coniston at 5.30pm on Friday afternoon, thanking our lucky stars that we were blessed with a gorgeous sunny evening in the Lakes to start the race with – a stark contrast to the dreadful conditions of the previous year. I was so happy to be here having run the 50 mile race the previous year and been overawed by the achievements of the 100 runners. The gem of an idea to run the 100 had been planted, but given the considerable drop out rate from the previous years, I hardly dared imagine the prospect of actually finishing.
It was good to see some familiar faces on the first big climb and Nigel and I did our best to stick to our race plan of starting out conservatively – despite all the nervous energy that meant we were both itching to power through. Our spirits were boosted by arriving at Seathwaite earlier than our planned schedule (based on a 36 hour completion time) and after grabbing a slice of ginger cake (my favourite!) and some more fluids we went happily on our way. It was a real bonus having recce’d this first 30 miles five weeks earlier, and for once I wasn’t stopping to check maps every fifty metres. It wasn’t yet dark as we trotted past the tarn before Wasdale Head – and the mist coming off the tarn as it reflected back the last streaky pinks of sunset made us all pause in appreciation.
It was head torches on and a change into a long sleeved top at Wasdale Head, a quick slug of coffee courtesy of the very nice checkpoint crew and the beginning of the long slog up and over to Buttermere (and possibly some lessons to learn about the implausibility of trying to run and breathe and eat malt loaf all at the same time!) We made the climb in some good company, and the friendly chat made the time pass quickly. On the descent our recce’ing again proved its value, as we (okay, actually it was Nigel!) spotted the easily missed wooden post which indicated the hidden path off to the left. Then probably the nicest few hundred metres of the whole race – a lovely downhill grassy bank – yeeha! The next climb out from Buttermere again passed quickly and we managed the navigation down to Braithwaite without error thanks to some sat nav back up courtesy of our new running companion Philip. Frustratingly we then missed the checkpoint at Braithwaite and had to double back on ourselves – definitely a lesson in maintaining attention when coming into checkpoints. This was the end of the first 34 miles – very much the hardest third of the whole race – so we were happy to have that behind us and a reasonable 10.5 hours on the clock.
The next section was surely my least favourite of the race – the rising sun did nothing to lift my spirits and I felt totally and somewhat unreasonably shattered given the relatively early stages of the race. I was battling to keep my eyes open and wasn’t impressed by the (to my tired mind) unreasonable U-shaped route we had to take as we countoured along the hillside. My legs had behaved themselves reasonably well until this point but were now really struggling with the constant switching from running to walking, so I ended up doing a somewhat odd speedwalk-skip to keep up with Nigel’s pace. We caught up with a chap called Colin and the three of us arrived together at Blencathra, having smiled/grimaced for the photographer, for more coffee and biscuits. We were more or less on our 36 hour schedule, and were looking forward to the prospect of ticking off the next big milestone – the 50 mile point of Dockwray. From there it was on to Dalemain – where we had our spare kit bags to look forward to and the added lure of seeing our families. But it was a long ten miles away, the longest distance between any of the checkpoints, and my brain was struggling with the idea that while we’d been going for a pretty long time already, we still had another 19 hours or so to go. This is always the part of the race that I find most difficult mentally to deal with – the no-man’s-land of the middle miles – but Joss Naylor’s advice to us at the start rang round in my mind ‘just think of each bit at a time; don’t think about the whole thing’. Coming into Dalemain was lovely, as the 50 mile racers were just passing through and so there was quite a crowd to cheer us in, with Nigel’s wife and daughter amongst them. I was pretty reluctant to take my shoes off, as I wasn’t sure I’d want to carry on once I’d been forced to confront the horror of my feet, but I knew a change of socks and shoes was a good idea. The plan to Vaseline the sore bits was somewhat thrown given that I couldn’t figure out which bits weren’t sore! Having wolfed down some pasta we set off through the fields. My family was there as we ran through Pooley Bridge and my mum shouted at me that a lady passerby she had got talking to had offered a donation to the charity – British Limbless Ex Servicemen Association (BLEMSA) – that I was running for. This random kindness and the timely reminder of the greater purpose that I was doing this for really lifted my spirits.
Despite the increasing winds and drizzling rain, I felt strong powering out of Howtown and up the long climb to Mardale Head, though now it was Nigel’s turn to struggle, as he kept nodding off on the move and was struggling to stay in a straight line. The last section contouring around the Lake was as dreadful as I remembered it from running the 50 the previous year – a never ending section of slippery rocks and a checkpoint which doesn’t look like it’s that far away but never gets any closer. We were behind our schedule now but still well ahead of the cut-off points. From there we pressed on as quickly as we could to Kentmere, both cursing as our very tender feet bashed into the endless rocks and shale. Nigel had been hugely disappointed when I told him that there were smoothies at Kentmere that he’d missed out on in 2009, so we were very pleased that there was some left this year when we turned up (good job checkpoint crew)! It was head torches back on as we climbed out of Kentmere – and the lure of Ambleside (and a hug from Rob) not far away kept me going.
From here Nigel and I went from strength to strength; we knew then that we would make it – only fifteen miles to go! (best not to think too hard about the fact that that was likely to mean another five hours or so!) We’d recce’d the next section as well, and Nigel’s recollection of the route proved flawless for the rest of the race. Our policy of starting the race conservatively so that we’d feel strong enough to make the most of the much more runnable sections later on in the race really paid off and we started to overtake people on the flatter bits coming into Chapel Stile. Colin dropped back and we really pushed the pace to Tilberthwaite but we were both enjoying feeling good and amazed that our legs were actually still running.
The final climb was really tedious and only made worthwhile by the stunning view of the Lakes from the top with the early morning mist still hanging in the valleys and everything lit up by the rosy glow of dawn. Our earlier elation had become somewhat subdued during the climb but once we started the final descent into Coniston the realisation that we were about to achieve what we had both worked so hard for over the previous months finally started to sink in. We saw a pack of L100 competitors walking ahead and were delighted to pass by them at a reasonable run – not least as one of them was female and I was wondering what this might mean for my overall placing, given that I was pretty sure that at least three other women out of the nine entered were behind me.
The finish was wonderful, with my mum there to cheer us in (my dad missed it as he’d gone to the car to get some spare camera batteries!) and Rob there with the now traditional bunch of flowers and pear cider! We wobbled our way into the hall to a round of applause from other competitors. The main aim had been just to finish, but we were delighted to also achieve our goals of finishing as the fastest mixed pair (albeit there was only one other mixed pair), finishing faster than Nigel’s time last year (in 36 hours 53 mins) and, best of all for me after a couple of 4th places over the last two years, I was the third female to finish. Rob fired up the barbeque and Nigel and I were treated to a cooked breakfast – I desperately tried to stay awake long enough to finish it but sleep deprivation won and I passed out happily on my plate….
My sincere thanks to the organisers and all the checkpoint crews for a fantastic race, to all the generous people who sponsored me to raise money for BLESMA (www.justgiving.co.uk/L100), to my wonderful support crew (mum, dad and Rob) and to Andrea and Victoria for cheering us on, and of course to my running partner and great friend Nigel.
