The Spine Race as a challenger. 2016 Spine Challenger 137 Below is the prequel to this year’s race, a long journey in both mental and physical preparation. 2015 read like a distressed chiller movie, 2016 is smooth and a very enjoyable experience, let me explain. Having suffered at the hands of the Spine massacre at the start of 2015 Spine race in Gale force winds I know what is out there and would never have stepped foot outside in such weather voluntarily, but it was a great learning experience to prepare for 2016. This year I had one massive advantage – Focus. That is, it, all it took was focus, not a little, not a bit this week and a little next but focus for a full year to say I will complete the challenge this time around and will have time to spare and enjoy it. You can read 2015’s journey as a prequel at the end of this report. I trained mainly running local hills and a few mountain walks, planning to be running 40 miles a week minimum by December. This didn’t quite happen due to hip niggles, but I pushed 30 every week without fail, so in November and December ran over 300 miles. I also returned from a holiday in Lanzerote in September to spend the next two days recceing the Pennines from Edale to Hebdon Bridge, which made 2015 Navigation errors quite laughable in daylight. This walk, excluding a stopover at New Inn in Marsden only took 13 hours – How did it possibly take me over 20 hours in January? I did upgrade some kit this year too, only little bits, remaining budget conscious, I gained a birthday present of some Speedcross 3’s, that’s it really. I can use what I have and know how it all functions so will stick with it. Building up to the weeks before the Spine, I awaited cold weather to trial warm kit but this never came, its Britain and warm? Not sure what happened there. Then you see the flooding and rain on the news and forecasts. OK a little worried about my £50 Tog 24 pertex coat, so in days leading up I purchase an OMM Smock jacket to and upgrade my trousers to some on offer Berhaus with a HH of 20000. That should help but keep my old faithful trousers in the car. Registration Friday starts with an arrival of lots of people in outdoor gear at Sheffield Station, some familiar, some not so, but all clearly here for one purpose. Some have completed Challenger, some full Spiners, some previous DNF’s with a mission to accomplish. The registration this year is smoother and feels friendlier, or perhaps I am more in the zone this time. I check in, have a lucky three item kit check (everything at top of my bag – result) and head to the Ramblers for an evening meal and bed. The day arrives and feels very similar in many ways to last except this year has focus remember. I have a set schedule to keep to, running 20 min miles today, 25 tomorrow and Monday with sleep at Hebdon and Malham. This is a 58-hour plan. Any rest in this except an hour ant Gargrave and Pen Y Ghent needs to be earned. The race begins and a steady climb up a familiar Kinder Scout, damp but not really raining, not dry but as I was soaked this time last year and I have the new OMM top on. I let people pass leading up but as I usually do, I power passed people on the up hills, (I only train on hills after all). Leading towards Edale Rocks it becomes surprisingly foggy and poor visibility. I do console myself in the knowledge I have crossed this plateau in every angle in all conditions so will be fine but still find myself using a compass to double check especially as I saw a couple of people head toward Kinder Low and away from the path ahead. Leaving Kinder to follow the flag stones towards Snake Pass, I am prepared for the slippery slabs as I am still sticking with my LA Sportiva’s and yes, its slippery, but omitting the cross wind of last year, can just about manage a run, in fact the stride when running must be shorter as I slip less running than when walking so make good progress in – you guessed it – pouring rain. I do push on and stay dry underneath for many miles forward. The slippery slabs reappear coming down from Soldiers Lump but at least I have passed my nemesis of loose rocks on Bleak Low this year (see prequel). The slabs are far more slippery than previous, and I struggle but had a strange idea that I never tested to try out. I cut two think woolly socks into tubes and pulled these over my forefoot and soles. I then, tentatively tried running again, wow, this actually works, and I can run again up to Wessenden Head, bad thing is they were a bit gross to remove. My timings are going to plan, if a little quicker, a few MRT staff laugh at my casualness stopping to remove a-foot-long Greg’s sandwich from my bag (Other sandwiches are available). I keep moving happily singing myself. I was also using a borrowed Petzl XPR headtorch that was brighter than mine and this was powering my evening. However, it is rechargeable, rechargeable batteries last and last then die quick. Well, only into about 3-4 hours of use, it flashed. That is fine, when mine flashed it dulls a little and last hours longer. Walking through a puddle, up to my ankles in water, in the middle of the darkest night, it turns off. Great, can’t see forwards or backwards, no lights around apart from a distant farmhouse about 5 miles away. I cannot put my bag down for water and stand still for what feels like eternity. Luckily, I remembered where my own torch is and after a strange bit of twerking manage a light swap. After a passing Stoodley Pike I did take a little misdirection, but it felt wrong and I turned back only loosing 20 minutes but meeting a young challenger that was a credit to himself in his night navigation abilities. I walk with him and another until CP1, one map reading, one checking GPS and me remembering key points, worked well as a team. The young challenger (only 26) pushed on through the night and I will meet him again on Monday. I decide to sleep, and my plan was leave by 6 am at the latest although having arrived at 10.30pm may cut this short. Last year I did not arrive until 2.30am!!!! I had a long hot shower and put on some old PJ bottoms and a hoody to get comfy, although this does raise some strange questions, are you racing? How are you so fresh? Well this was my plan and I have focus, even forced myself to take the shower. I have some food from the fabulous volunteers and hit bed. I have missed a bit hear and shouldn’t divulge it for probable debate, but If you read my prequel, you’ll see what happened. I came in from the cold, had a hot shower and relaxed too quickly, this triggers a condition I have that can cause blackouts. This sounds serious but I can control it and usually feel coming. As I walked from the canteen my head started pumping, a cold rush from toe to head hits me and I know I have seconds before problems. I make a dart for a chair and sit, my body switches from cold to hot and I can feel colour return to my body. That was close. A few seconds later I would have collapsed and been withdrawn from the race. I now have another issue, I need to stand, walk down the corridor get my sleeping bag and go upstairs. I sit and ponder if this is achievable. This is difficult, the best cure is now sleep and the hardest few seconds of this race for me in now just getting to bed. A few deep breaths and I walk, I am fine this time, let’s get to bed. (Note: I have had various tests at hospital about a year ago and due to the problem being very intermittent cannot rectify and am declared medically fit). Oh a good tip here, I took a cheap summer sleeping bag in my drop bag, saves unpacking and is better in a heated room. I get up around 3.30, breakfast and go. I kept my dirty shoes in a plastic bag to keep them together too but opted for a clean pair of Speedcross from my drop bag. I am stupid. Well, I tell myself that turning incorrectly out of the CP and ending up turning back along the mud path. Only 10 m from the CP and go wrong. Well, I am now frustrated and remind myself, that was the mistake for today out of the way, now you will be fine. I push back up towards Slack, snow has fallen, and ground is slippery, some gusty winds. I did not think anywhere near a wind blindness danger level but it cold and blizzard like so dart into a phone box to see if I can become superman. Well put on some glasses at least. These steam up and I put them away only moments down the road again. I see a head torch ahead and think it may be a good companion to cross the Moorland with, however, he probably knows not to follow others and encourages me to push on passed him. I am now on Heptonstal Moor, blustery winds, Snow blowing around me in a blizzard, cold, dark and no path in sight. This is not pleasant and is very cold, I know to push on for warmth and find myself layering up, now with waterproof bottoms and three (albeit thin layer) jackets on, for the first time I now use GPS for ease and push on hoping to remain on a path not sinking in covered bogs, I up the volume on my Ipod and keep going, just wanting to get off this land. The cold footsteps and sinking every few steps is not nice, I think it is here my right ankle develops a pain and this builds throughout the morning. I think about fixing it but what best for what feels like swelling? Rest, Ice, Compression hmmmmm. Well, there’s loads of ice around so for the remaining days on the course, if a puddle looks wet, icy, cold it will be this ankle that gets dunked. I did find a lot of my dampness today was a burst bladder, so had no water most of the day but survived with a refreshing bottle of coke. I push on and after hours alone I join up with a follow challenger who is local to the area, Peter I think, and we drive the course up to Gargrave picking up a misplaced racer in a field along the way. A misplaced racer I later assist again. A delightful meal as the three of us piled into the Masons Arms. I take a full planned hour and the others have left. I give myself a challenge of night Nav without GPS and this serves me well in the evening where I find the racer wandering around a field again. He is a very experienced racer and has completed MDS but was not prepared for the poor Pennine way markings. We stay together until CP1.5 where I set up camp and he bivvies down on a bench. The tracks are frozen, the air is dry, I would guess it must be around -5 on the edge of Malham Tarn tonight. As I awake around 3am I feel a sense of the race and start thinking I should push to reduce my time, originally in 2015 I thought 55 hours was manageable, let’s go for it, let’s beat 55 hours. I get over excited and remember the man in CP1.5 said pop back in for a coffee to save getting my cooker out. This I do in error – I discover later in the day. I get up with not too much effort but one foot on the floor and ouch, that ankle has suffered, I look around and stuff some ice in my sock and take Ibuprofen. Pack away and grab a quick coffee. I am away into the dark cold Icy morning. The adrenaline of finishing is in my blood, yet I know I need to control this. Floor is very icy, and tracks are in the snow only sporadically. I change my settings on my watch and finally realise it can zoom in and actual be some use navigating (Suunto Ambit 3 – a second Birthday present I have only used to track and monitor pacing so far), with the watch and a map in hand this navigation is a dream. I push on to the next head torch ahead, then the next, then the next. Overall, today I overtook around 18+ people, challenger and racers. I was going strong, did hear some strange voices in my approach to Pen Y Ghent but no evidence of anyone around. The climb up PYG was icy and commanded ice tracks fitting to your shoes. I reached the summit exactly as daylight broke, what an amazing view and great reward for an early start. I carry on after enjoying moments of this magnificent site ready for my next reward in PYG café. If they don’t have it on the menu, I will order an Egg sandwich anyway, it’s about all I can manage once I get moving on a race. Amazingly this was served and tasted heavenly. I continue my quest up towards Cam Road, and pass my young friend from Saturday night, still pushing on and driving forwards, I politely let him know I am pushing for 55 hours and pass. This is the only race I have done where you feel obliged to speak to everyone you pass or that passes you, almost gaining approval to do so. As I get to the end of the path my watch says turn left, my map and signs say go forward, my compass, well that is still on the table at the Masons Arms! The signs say Pennine Way ING, but what can ING mean, my watch says left. I follow the map and sign to reach a small river which I cross, and all tracks, footprint and mud patches have now gone. Is this right? I feel confident and just hope there is a forest ahead with a circle gap cut into it like my map and over the next hill it appears. I feel unstoppable now. Up on Cam Road I pass another Racer taking a break and push on. I slow a little and look around, the sun is up, glimmering on the snowy banks, its mesmerising, I sit, still with backpack on and my body tells me I am done…… ……… I sit for easily ten if not fifteen minutes. What has gone wrong, why have I burned out, ankle still throbbing. This does not feel right, this is not good. Ok, pull yourself together, what have you eaten today – only an Egg sandwich and limited water due to no water bladder just a small bottle. Ok you need fuel; you were supposed to cook breakfast at camp but didn’t because of the offer of a coffee. Ooops. I have difficulty eating a packet of squashed salty crisps, a Bounty and a fudge bar (I have very technical food). This is all I have as I planned to meet my spectator and restock at PYG café but pushing hours ahead of schedule missed this and a planned shoe change. I take a few mouthfuls of water and pull myself up. With a few creaky aches I push on, now using both poles, shouting at myself words of encouragement and trying to recite songs from memory to build my motivation back up. The road is long…….. cam Road feels very long….. Does it end? My watch is now dead, and I can’t be particularly bothered to stop and check where I am on the map as it all looks very similar and there is only one way to head. Eventually I meet the turning down to Hawes and gain a lift only to discover it is still a further two miles to civilisation. I am not allowed to be negative, I can do this, keep moving I don’t say to myself; I shout it. Eventually seeing another couple of humans in the distance I pick back up to a slow run. As I catch them, I see it is a MRT challenger that is barley shuffling but is determined to keep going, I feel for him and how fresh I can appear. This does only to motivate me to push harder and I am glad to say I say the runner later did finish and he showed great determination, I feel his struggle way more deserving of the medal that any other runners I have passed. My head says I will not make 55 hours, it must be miles and I have 20 mins left. As I cross a few fields I begin questioning this and ponder the time. Ok I feel a bit silly running through town like a sprint finish but if I do, I can do 55. Why, it will give the same medal and same result. Because I said I could, because I told myself to have focus. With this I run and eventually burst into the Finish with a minute to spare at 14:09 on Monday afternoon. 54 hours and 59 minutes after starting. Shortly after, about 10 minutes, the young challenger follows behind and amazed by his efforts I congratulate him and feel we have shared an epic journey yet in different ways. I took it day by day, he pushed as one race, neither any quicker, neither any slower but both methods proved successful. I also see from results the person I arrived at Hebden Bridge with in 2015 also finished the race this time around, well done too. The race is long and it is only with yourself, this calls for the race to be run your way, a lot of blogs are written to help with this and advise but really and truly only owning your mind can get you through this one. Focus kept me fresh and determined. Nick K Maidment Now 40 The Prequel: The road to the Spine 2015The weather outside is poor, rain pelting the windows, wind howling through the alley ways, the heating is on and I am sat snuggly with a blanket over my knees on the sofa, flicking through various magazines looking for a new challenge and a new adventure. I am late thirties and have completed various marathons and adventures over the years, never particularly quick but can keep going and going when the mood is right, after all, we all have those little gremlins in our heads telling us to stop don’t we? In 2009 I was competing in an obstacle course race, this is just as these were building popularity. I was doing quite well and had just completed about 5km, I looked around to see where my brother was as he had dropped behind, as I did, I heard a snapping sound and took a dive to the floor, rolling to a stop to realise I have broken my right leg. I shuffled away from the course as I was in a dip between two hills and advised my brother to carry on the race. Months after this I still had signs of a fracture in both Fibula and Tibia bones. The doctors advised me I would take a good two years to be running anything similar again. Not the best thing to hear, frustrating and might as well of told me I would ever walk again, I was not happy. Time passed and after a while I began working my fitness, using cross trainer, cycling and swimming to develop. This prompted me to try Triathlons. I has always wanted to but feared being the novice in what appears quite a technical sport. I found a beginners event in Stratford and entered. I can’t remember a lot, apart from the commenter suggesting I visit the medics to have my legs checked as I limped across the finish. Unknown to him I was limping due to the scaffolding inside my leg. I was determined to get back up to strength and after 18 months I managed to complete the London Olympic distance Triathlon. Ok Now I really want a challenge. This is where the Spine Challenge begins to fill the void. I read the spec and requirements, saw the cost – ouch but the thought was now in my head. I had a second operation to have the metal removed from my leg and this appears to have solved the limping and most the pain now. I entered the 2015 Spine Challenger with about 9 months to train. But the road is long…. In the summer I had a little accident and was told by doctors I have a blocked Pulmonary vein between my heart and lung, this can cause sudden blackouts and may lead to a pacemaker as I age. Well to me that was more reason to get and stay fit. I have played with this and as long as I avoid sudden temperature changes, eat well, don’t drink too much and sit to pee I can get by with no symptoms. However I can now feel my heart rate in my mind and can feel if problems are coming. Luckily this has never happened during exercise so I am happy to push on with plans if I can control this beast. In that year I also suffered from Achilles tendinitis which delayed any significant training. To catch up, and as I was working on the road a lot, I began to carry my running gear with me and at the end of a day I would run up a hill near to where I worked that week, I climbed Hellvelyn, Kinder Scout, Blencathra, Snowdon, Brown Clees, Roseberry topping, Black Hill, each one done a week after the next. These gave a great adventure and sense of achievement to give a focus while developing map reading skills. Especially when in weather described by Met office as “don’t go out unless expert in Navigation”. Closer to the race I began suffering with a self-diagnosed Hip Bursitis so mileage struggled to reach 20 miles a week even up to December. Early January and the race is upon us. My kit is all purchased at a budget price. I tried 3 GPS units, each from Ebay and resold for the next, my final one is a Memory Map 2800 that cost £50 and has an additional external battery – Basically works with a stylus and displays OS maps. My waterproof trousers were old ex-army Goretex from 20 years ago, running cloths simply kit bought over the years, never more than £20 an item. I had a cheap backpack but was given an Osprey 33 as a present and used an old cheap bivvy bag as a waterproof liner (which I still use – works really well). My sleeping bag needing to be purchased and was expensive (well compared to my usual £20 ones, a Vango Ultralite 900 Cost £80, a bit big, a bit heavy but fits the requirement and gives a good night sleep. I also had a tent for the drop bag - £20 off Ebay. Shoes I was planning on using were LA Sportiva Crosslites – Ok one thing I spent a bit on but am paranoid about slipping again. These though, split about 4 weeks before the race also needed a quite replacement and bought from America LA Sportive Crossovers with gaiter for around £100. The day before involved one2one registration process, full race briefing from race organizers and from mountain rescue ranging from beating hypothermia to country code. This was followed a little down the road by a full kit “explosion” sorry, should be inspection but if you’d seen the room you would understand, mug shot and tracker fitting. Saturday morning and the challengers meet in Edale car park and are escorted to the start line. Lots of nervously excited faces, me with fully laden backpack and everyone else looking lighter. My mind would drift with various thoughts of incomprehensible distance, kit confidence, getting lost but my gremlins were being thought back especially as I have climbed Kinder, Bleaklow and Black hill in training. Another thought keeps hitting my mind and distracting me as my mother passed away only last week. We were not the closest family but constant memories from years past, good and bad do haunt my morning. What happens next changed the game. A short register and countdown to start and they are off. Some gently jogging, some walking up to the Pennine way with just a little gentle rain, down the dark track opposite the old school and bam. The spine bites. Full gale force winds, head on, accompanied by very heavy driving rain. Wind so strong you need to battle to remain standing, rain hitting your face like someone firing a BB gun at you continuously. I have never experienced anything like this! Less than a mile and it's tough. I have heard three people dropped out around this area for injuries, twisted ankles, wind blindness and simply falling over. Many complaint of blurry vision, I had it in one eye for the whole day, making identifying objects in the distance very difficult when map reading. The rain battles down hard and many resort to full mountain gear to gear up to tackle the Peaks biggest mountain. Crossing Kinder the rain does ease a little but the wind remains. If you jump you may be blown away. Kinder downfall is blowing 20 foot into the air, even gravity is loosing today. Cross the torrent of river kinder and down toward featherbed moss, the path is fairly flat, flagstones, should be easy to get some pace. Every step is like walking on ice with a full cross wind constantly sending you in to the boggy side track. Backpack creating a great wind sock. A few more go over here. Even last year’s race leader is out. Weather so bad the race organizers delay the full race by two hours. Run, lucky to stay standing. That is just the first ten miles of 110..... It doesn't improve much throughout the day, wind, rain, hail, snow, sleet, sun (well a little). Feels like -10 for the whole day with base layers damp from the start. I push on throughout the day. Coming off Bleaklow I decide to try balancing on a loose rock while jogging down a slope, the rock didn’t agree and with a ripping sound my left ankle in sprained. I know not to remove the shoe and gently push on. I use my walking poles to support and pace is pre-cautionary reduced. The day goes on, turns dark before I know it even just near Wessenden. With a sprained ankle and wind blindness in one eye, navigation is tricky, can’t see distant objects. A follow challenger I have leap frogged most of the day asks to join me as his friend has dropped out. I am willing for the company and use the partnership as an excuse to slow. He tells me he has done the race before reaching Gargrave last year. That is enough for me, I let him navigate. We walk on chatting at a meandering pace to reach a town. He recognizes this and explains a path should be over the road and down a hill. I don’t know why but I decide to turn on my GPS and check this. Ooops, we are in Marsden, should have turned a few miles ago. I look at the map back to the course and it doesn’t look too bad except someone has raised the planet in this little area to mean we have another huge hill to climb. We push on in darkness and my torch begins to go dark. I look for my spare Petzl XP batteries and they are no longer in my bag – I discover later these had jumped out of my bag in favor of the warmth of my partner’s car floor. I use a tiny back up Petlz E lite that was free with a magazine subscription some time ago and discover my new friend also has no further batteries and is running on low. Every time I stop and remove my gloves my hand refuse to slide back into them when damp, this begins to cause a pain in the hand, I am using two poles so get very lazy. In what feels like hours and hours later, my friend falling a fair number of times and even snapping a walking pole, we stumble into Hebdon Hay, after a detour through the local cemetery of course. Stephen retires from the race on entry, I decide to sleep it out but come the next morning my foot was very swollen and my hip felt it had seized hours before reaching Hebden. DNF 2015 – lessons to be learned, don’t run on loose rocks, ensure when navigating you are personally aware of your surroundings, carry a spare head torch and ensure batteries are secure, be cautious of other pace and abilities, use maps that you are used not, not just recommended ones (I used Harveys for this and didn’t like them always training with OS). Have a focused plan but be flexible.
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Nick K Maidment
Running into 40. |