Author: petefoth

  • 24 Hours Around a Track

    By Robin Leathley

    When I first heard that people ran for 24 hours on the track, I had to know more about it, I was immediately Track-urious. Chatting to GB 24 hour athlete Michael Stocks 2 years ago, I said I was intrigued by the whole thing, his response was “well you’ll definitely do it then”, and he was not wrong! Fast forward two years and I’ve been training harder than ever, surpassing any of the training blocks I’d ever done before.

    They had 4 boards up with similar quotes on to motivate you, but you’ve read them after 2 laps…

    Training had gone so well, I’d managed multiple weeks in a row of over 100km, with double threshold sessions and back-to-back long runs. I felt ready to take on the challenge. I’d never really managed that sort of distance or intensity before, normally if I even got close to that it would be one lone week and I’d be exhausted but I was ticking everything off. 

    Being lucky enough to co-host RunUltra’s podcast, I prepared questions for people I knew had spent 24 hours on the track before. I’d read Michael Stocks “One Track Mind” documenting his journey to run over 150 miles around the track and make the GB team at 49 years old. This is the amazing world of 24 hour running; the levels of endurance you build up over many years of running can leave the door open to a GB vest when you’d have thought it was just up to the young guns. I also read Susie Chan’s “Trails and Tribulations” which contained a chapter on her 24 hour track race at Tooting in 2018. It’s fair to say she didn’t enjoy it very much; she touted it as being one of the most difficult things she’d ever done. “Hmmm, how difficult?” I thought. 

    Further chats with incredible ultra runners Debbie Martin-Consani and Laura Watts on the podcast reaffirmed this. It was tough, both physically and mentally. More ticks for me, this was difficult and pushed people to their limits, that’s what I wanted to experience and what I hadn’t experienced yet in running. This was for me, I was in.

    I became obsessed, as I usually do when taking on a new challenge, hoovering up as much information as I could on the event. How could I get round, how could I avoid any common pitfalls for beginners, I was determined not to be another newbie statistic who didn’t take it seriously. This is where the ultra running community begins to shine, there’s a thirst to help everybody else succeed and where three particular mantras would stick with me the entire race:

    Eloise Eccles (GB 24 Hour) – “Keep moving always”

    Sophie Power (GB 24 Hour) – “5% discomfort, no more”

    Holly Stables (Elite runner) – “Don’t be a c*#t”

    Michael Stocks generously gave me an hour of his time to quiz him on all the finer points and furthermore, the GB record holder, Matt Field, helped verify my thoughts on the Nike Alphafly 2, who agreed it was the shoe for him. Quite bizarre that people have agreed the Alphafly 1 isn’t quite as suited (they vary in mm of drop), although Matt mentioned fellow GB athlete Robbie Britton swears by Alphafly 1s. Isn’t ultra-running absolutely incredible that you can speak to all these top tier athletes about the finer points of the sport? I can’t imagine there are many other sports like it, what an incredibly blessed community we have.

    I’d focused on all the kit and the running but there were still two large parts missing if I was to succeed: the nutrition and the crew. This is where my wife Jen stepped in. She read Renee McGregor’s new book “Fuel for Thought” and was telling me what to eat on training runs and what to eat in the build-up to the race and when, such hugely valuable information. We didn’t wing it by any extent; we were doing this properly. Jen especially wanted me to get this right, she’d sacrificed so much in looking after our two kids while I ran and ran, in her words “you’re finishing this race even if you have to walk every step”. Well, I’d better finish then hadn’t I?! Don’t want to be a “c*#t” either… As much as that was tongue-in-cheek by the way, let me tell you, it was amazing motivation.

    My wife and I arrived at the track early Saturday morning and were guided to our spot trackside. You’re allowed to park on the side and take up 2 1/2 lanes of the outer lanes of the track. The rest of my crew filtered in shortly after. Gildas who had dramatically finished UTS100m earlier this year, Clair who finished South Downs Way 100 and my sister who is one of my biggest supporters in life no matter what I do. 

    My sister has always been one of my biggest supporters ❤️

    The briefing was nice and straight forward. The main thing to note about having 55 people racing around a track is how they manage the differences in pace. You’re told to run on the outer line of lane 1, leaving room enough for people to pass you on the inside, if there isn’t room you can say “track” to let them know you’re coming through.

    Before you know it, we’re all on the start line, months of training and hard work, all ready to be tested. I felt excited, nervous but most of all ready to give it my best. 3, 2, 1 and boom, off went an audio clip of a gunshot. The race had begun. As Ben Parkes says, “let’s get this done”.

    The weather was quite warm and would get up to around 21C, which isn’t hot but it’s enough for this race to make you reconsider your starting pace. I’d wanted to go out around 5:20/km but dropped that to 5:45/km, I really didn’t want to make any mistakes and go out too hard. You all settle in fairly quickly and the laps start ticking by nicely. I recall saying to my crew about half an hour in “piece of p*#s this!” It was a joke okay?

    My plan to consume unholy amounts of Maurten 320 along with alternating gels was going well and I kept my pace honest without overstepping my mark those opening few hours. I felt strong and was fuelling nicely. Every 4 hours the runners change direction and are channelled around a few cones. My crew tried to make a big deal out of it, congregating at the start line and singing and cheering people around it, celebrating the 4 hourly achievement. It was so nice to have them there making a big deal out of these little milestones, before you know it, your mind starts to slip a little bit from reality at this point and you need quite a lot of noise to break through to you from the sidelines.

    The track was floodlit so although it never got dark, it still became much harder.

    I should mention at this point in the actual race, one runner sauntered off to the fence to chat to someone and had a cigarette! It was the talk of the track at the time! Can you believe it? Oh my god a cigarette! It was all we could talk about. I should say he did finish the race and that made it all the more hilarious that he’d pulled it off in a way.

    Before we knew it, 5, 6, 7 hours have gone by and fuelling is still going well. That’s all it really boils down to at this point, having a well drilled crew to keep you focused and fuelled to keep up your pace and stay strong! It’s amazing how pathetically reliant you become. Scrolling back through their WhatsApp chat later on it very much reads like trying to get a toddler to eat his vegetables. I recall opting for Maurten 320 over 160, the extra grams of carbs got a chorus of “YOU’RE MAKING GREAT CHOICES” I think maybe I’d fallen slightly off plan. It’s so hard to know, all I knew was the average and current pace on my watch, it felt like I was having quite a lot of nutrition.

    8 hours another turn around and soon after I began running with someone properly for the first time, Jack Goldsmith. 10 years my junior, he was chancing his arm at this for the same reasons, a new challenge and it looked difficult. We shared a lot in common and managed to swallow up laps and laps of time, during a really tough 8 to 12 hour slot, this was invaluable to me. My crew were growing concerned, they felt I was slowing as a result of the partnership and falling off pace and they were right, however it was through no fault of Jack’s, it was me that was starting to slow…

    I went through the 100K mark at 10hrs 56mins, this was slower than planned and really wasn’t leaving enough of a window to hit my dream 200K goal but my mind was slipping, I didn’t care, I’d already started letting the race win, I told my crew I didn’t care I just wanted to finish, I told Jack the same. None of them wanted me to give it up… but I did, I was losing the mental battle, my mind was winning. “Just finishing this race is enough Robin” “it’s your first 24 hour race; you don’t have anything to prove”. I believed it for a couple hours. 

    I needed a change, Jack and I had been alternating who ran on the outside of the lane every couple laps, but he was definitely giving me the lion’s share of the inside and the few I had on the outside were getting slower. I told him I needed to keep to the inside and we needed to end our partnership, he told me if I needed any more chat any lap, he’d be there to help. A truly great guy and he really had helped so much in that really difficult stretch of the race, after he shot off, I felt like a hindrance to his race (he ended up finishing 3rd). I pushed on the next few laps and started to pick things back up, renewed with some music, I started to feel like my legs were coming back. Then disaster struck, cramp.

    My left calf started to seize up, I tried to run it off, slowing to see if I could ease out of it, nope, it was bad. I’d made it to 125K and truly feared that my race, at least the running portion of it, might be over. Jen gave me a bit of physio massage on it and managed to free it up a bit and we all jumped on the immediate thought of “lack of salt”. I ate what I could, had some extra salt tablets and was sent on my way, but just couldn’t muster the pace I’d had a couple of laps previous. This is where the race really started to spiral and became every bit as difficult as I’d heard it could be. I could barely make it round in under 8:00/km pace, my left leg was sore, my right leg was tired, I’d never ran this far before, was this going to be my story? “Robin, oh he can’t run more than 100k without falling apart, that’s his limit, he’s not capable.”

    All of this runs through your head. My running had slowed further. I had been reduced to 2 laps shuffling, 1 lap walking. I felt utterly beaten; there was still 10 hours of the race left. Was I even going to make it to the end?? I didn’t feel worthy enough to finish, this wasn’t a performance I was proud of, I was so much better than this but I couldn’t revive myself, I’d started to cry, I’d let myself and everyone down, I couldn’t believe I was subjecting them to this. Jen had moved to one side of the track and Clair/Gildas the other, in an attempt to keep my spirits up as much as possible, so I didn’t feel too alone. I couldn’t even meet their gaze for a few laps,laps; despite their efforts I was isolating myself.

    This is where the track beats you down, the slower you go, the more you have to move wide on corners to let the quicker runners by and for no extra reward. Your distance per lap is only ever recorded as 400m, how far you stray from that, starts to become a massive inconvenience, it’s another voice that starts quiet in your head but gets louder. By this point those voices were many and they were all very persuasive. I told Jen that I really wanted to sit down “but you said, you didn’t want to do that, you wanted to keep moving always”, God damn it I thought, she’s said exactly what I wanted her to, but I’m so bloody annoyed that she’s said it. On I trudged. I even started walking extra bits of the track but only the furthest bits from Jen as I knew she’d tell me off if I were closer. During this section I’d also begun to wee almost every lap, a normal healthy wee but still, it wasn’t normal. 

    We had everything we needed but it could have been better organised, maybe next time….

    Here’s a little anecdote of what the crew overheard of the couple running next door to us:

    Him: [cries]

    Her: don’t cry

    Him: it’s really hard

    Her: I know, that’s why I stopped!

    This perhaps sums it up much more succinctly than I have.

    Back to my race.

    After many laps of the weeing issue, the crew had been brainstorming about why it was happening and fortunately Emily on our WhatsApp quizzed about my salt levels vs my weight and they realised I was still massively under salt and solid carbs by this point. I was given a ham sandwich with a salt tablet crushed in the middle. Truly revolting, but,but I’d actually not felt nauseous the whole race so was able to get it down. By now we were 19 hours into the race and I was only a few away from 100 miles.

    Suddenly everything changed. 

    I realised if I could summon any kind of strength, I could reach 100 miles, my first ever 100 miles, in under 20 hours, that felt worth chasing. Just that one thought, coupled with the food, the salt and the sun coming up, gave me the biggest surge of adrenaline and here comes the comeback. 

    I honestly get goosebumps even typing this as I’ve never EVER felt this incredible before. The feeling through me at this point was the closest to invincible I’ve ever felt. Every lap towards the 100 mile mark I sped up. Back under 7:00/km at last, 6:45/km > 6:30/km > 6:00/km > 5:30/km. I wasn’t done here, my race wasn’t over, could I dare dream?? How much time had I lost? Could it be…possible…to still get 200k???

    I absolutely blasted through the 100 mile mark feeling unstoppable. The first time I’d ever ran that far! 19.32, that meant there was 4 hours 28 minutes left to run 39km. I was so pumped, I was shouting “come on Robin, come on!” I was shouting “come on” and “let’s go” at the staff tents and the timing staff, I was absolutely possessed. I ran past my crew and I shouted pointing to the timing staff “they’re going to say Robin 200k” They looked back in disbelief, they’d seen me the last 19 hours, more importantly the last 7 hours, sure I’d had a few good laps but wasn’t I getting ahead of myself? No. No I knew. I knew right then how I felt. I switched to my Alphaflys that I’d cast aside 9 hours ago. We are charging for this; I am going for it. It’s all or nothing, it’s not over.

    5:20/km > 5:10/km > 5:00/km > 4:50/km. I was overtaking everybody, everybody who’d lapped me time and time again. My time was now. I was yelling “track” at everybody, now it was my turn, my turn for the inside line, my turn to push. I had my music on full blast, I didn’t need to listen out for anyone anymore. I overtook the leaders time and time again, I even ran around the outside, it felt like I was making a statement, I was.

    For two hours I was the fastest person on the track and it was the greatest feeling I’ve ever had in my entire life. To go from so low, to so high, I’ve never felt such elation, such euphoria. My crew couldn’t believe it, screaming encouragement from the sidelines. They responded as you’d dreamed they would, throwing the perfect fuel my way, fuelling the fire. It felt like a cartoon where I was literally blazing a trail behind me.

    I was flying up the leaderboard, I was absolutely unstoppable, I went from 14th>11th>9th>7th! The other runners around me were incredible, “You’re smashing it!” “Great running!” “Keep going!”, they could tell how much it meant to me and they were pushing me round the track (only with words 😉 ) My crew on the side now knew I could make the 200K, I just had to keep going. There was no time to walk now; no time to cramp. I had to pull back,back; there was still two hours to go.

    The last push was absolutely exhausting, the adrenaline faded, I tried my best to reignite it but it wouldn’t come back. I had slowed down but I knew the maths, I knew what I needed to do to make it to 200K in time, but the maths meant pain, I had to keep pushing or I wouldn’t make it. 20km to go. Just hold on Robin, please, just hold on.

    15km to go, come on legs where’s the fire? Let’s go come on!! I tried again and again to revive that fighting spirit, verbally shouting to myself but it was like a car that wouldn’t start, or more rather, a car that was out of petrol. I’d kept fuelling with gels etc, it was just that point in the race where it didn’t matter much anymore, my body was reaching its physical limit. 

    10km to go. By this point so many people were around the track to support their loved ones, it made for a great atmosphere and really helped push others for this last hour, but it meant I was again moving to the side BUT I was still moving well enough, my average pace should be enough to make it but it’s going to be close…

    A parkrun to go, 10 laps, 5 laps, 4, 3…. I started to get so emotional. I mean my god, to have come back from where I was at 4am, how was this happening, I WAS GOING TO DO IT! I remember being so SO proud of myself, how on earth had I pulled this back?! I was down for the count! I had run my absolute heart out for hours, it was the only way I could make it! Last lap.

    I had other runners already congratulating me on that final lap, they knew what was happening and how much I’d worked for it. I closed down the final straight and crossed the finish line with 14 minutes 12 seconds left on the clock, 200 kilometres, I’d done it. I hugged and cried with Jen and my sister came and hugged me too, she didn’t want to let me go but I had a race to finish, although, my race was already finished. I walked and struggled round 3 more laps in that last 13-14 minutes but they were all victory laps. 

    We collected our bean bags which you drop behind you when the 24 hours finishes, to mark your final distance on that lap. 3, 2, 1 and it was over. I carefully collapsed to the floor and my crew collapsed with me. We’d done it. 201.3km, 125 miles, 6th place. 

    That was, without a doubt, a race none of us would ever forget. I feel incredibly lucky to have had them there with me. Without their positivity, problem solving, unwavering belief and focus, there is absolutely NO WAY I could have achieved that. Thank you so much, Jen, Clair, Gildas, Izzy and Emily, I can’t ever repay you for that, it’s a memory I will treasure forever. 

    Without my wife this would not have been possible ❤️

    Lastly I’d like to sing the praises of everything about the race itself. The Sri Chinmoy “Self-Transcedence 24 Hour Track Race” didn’t fall short in any area. All of the organisers, volunteers and lap counters were faultless. Shankara, the race director, took a big chance on letting me sign up for this race as I didn’t really have too much credible experience in track running at all, never mind for 24 hours, I’m extremely grateful for having had the opportunity. For the first 4 hours of the race, you had a manual lap counter, just while the track was super busy, to help verify your total. Every lap they would acknowledge you, just giving you a little boost. It can not be easy! The volunteers manning the food and drink tent were always on hand to help anybody with a big smile. Later into the race when I was trying to confirm my distance, the lap counter would always look it up as quickly as possible to read out to me. Amazing from them all and I absolutely will be back. This is just the beginning. 

    Are you up for the challenge?

  • Spring Navigation Challenge – May 2025

    Ready for an adventure? 🧭
    Take on our Spring Navigation Challenge and put your map skills to the test! 🗺️
    (Hint: Ordnance Survey maps will be your best friend!) 🧹

    Part 1: (Easy) 🚶‍♂️🚶‍♀️
    Starting at Tom Brad’s Croft Car Park (by the rubbish bin), navigate your way to: 📍

    • The Dipping Stones 💧
    • River Goyt Footbridge (south of Hillbridge Woods) 🌉
    • The Swan Inn, Kettleshulme 🍻
    • Mediaeval Cross (remains) on Elnor Lane ✝️
    • Bridge over Toddbrook at Kishfield 🌉

    These locations are not in any order. Your task is to find the shortest route from the car park, visiting or passing each location, and returning back to the start. 🗺️

    You can use any road, public right of way, or established path. 🛤️
    Record your route (keep it private if uploading to Strava etc.). 📲
    Send your claimed mileage to Chris Tetley 📬

    You may be asked for proof – so make sure you record your activity on Strava, Garmin, a GPX file, or any system that tracks your distance. ✅

    Part 2: (Advanced) 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♀️
    As well as completing Part 1, your challenge is to visit specific Peak & Northern Footpaths Society (PNFS) signs! 🪧

    Work out where they are.
    Note the sign number and year. 📝

    You can choose to do just Part 1, or combine Part 1 and Part 2 together for a bigger challenge. 🎯
    Same rules: shortest distance wins! 📏
    You can run or walk – time is not critical, only distance counts! ⏳

    Summary: 🗺️

    1. Navigate from Tom Brad’s Croft Car Park 🅿️
    2. Visit all listed locations
    3. (Optional) Visit PNFS signs too
    4. Find the shortest route
    5. Record your mileage and keep proof
    6. Submit to Chris Tetley

    Good luck and enjoy the adventure! 🍀
    Happy navigating, GVS! 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♀️

  • Northern Traverse – 300km Ultra Race across the Lakes, Dales & Moors

    Northern Traverse – 300km Ultra Race across the Lakes, Dales & Moors

    By Chris Bowen & Chris Tetley

    Chris B: The Northern Traverse, organised by Ourea Events, follows Alfred Wainwright’s Coast to Coast path across the breadth of England, from St Bees to Robin Hood’s Bay. I first did the Coast to Coast with Dave in 1975 – the summer after my ‘A’ levels. It took two weeks, and I found it very tough. I had a big, framed rucksack and was wearing leather walking boots. When I realised that it would be 50 years ago this year since I’d done this as my first multi-day walk, I thought that doing the route again would be a nice idea. I talked to Chris T. who has been my partner in crime on other ultras and we agreed to enter.

    Chris T: The race is continuous with support points along the way where there is food, lovely volunteers who can’t do enough for you, and medics if needed. At some of the support points you have access to a drop bag and can have a bit of sleep (if you are lucky) in a shared tent.

    If we managed to finish it in the time allowed (a good bit less than 5 days) it would be a really big achievement, especially as we are both almost 68 and would be amongst the oldest competitors.

    The Start

    Helen had driven us to the start and registration at St Bees School. Having arrived a little early for the kit check at 5pm and as the school was quiet, we went hunting for a café to kill a little time. We had heard a few stories of how they are quite strict at kit check – even on the way in there were those coming out saying similar things. We presented our photo ID and were called forward. Despite the rumours, kit check wasn’t too bad, collect number, get tracker fitted and pick up hoody. At this point you can leave your drop bag for onward travel. The bags were popped on the scales and weighed. That’s it all sorted so now for food, sleep and final preps at our Premier Inn in Whitehaven.

    Saturday morning all preparations done and off to St Bees. This time to the seafront. Crowds of people are beginning to mill around the start area. First objective, we go and collect a small pebble and dip shoe in the sea. The obligatory photo by the official start sign of the C2C route and we are ready.

    And We Are OFF

    It wasn’t long before we started to assemble in the start funnel. The sun was shining bright and its time we were off up onto the cliff top path to St Bees Head. Soon, we begin to turn inland and, in the distance, can be seen the Lake District fells ahead of us.

    St Bees to Ennerdale (15 miles 482m ascent)

    The first bit however is flat, a mix of farm tracks fields, roads and old railway lines as we head towards Cleator Moor. Now saying this section was flat, well we now go round a hill called Flat Fell…. Yes, there is one before heading down to Ennerdale Bridge and our first support point along the route. Here water is provided, nothing more. However, there is a café next door. Something I didn’t do here, and should have done, was EAT! We had a coffee and ice cream.

    Ennerdale to Rosthwaite (15 miles 525m ascent)

    After Ennerdale Bridge it’s a short, wooded section to the lake. The path starts quite good along the southern edge. But soon becomes very undulating and rocky and at times quite slow going. At Lakes end you are now definitely in the Lake district fells. Tall hills to the left and right. Crossing the valley floor its now an easy path to Black Sail. Here there is a small kitchen with a few essentials, kettle too. A small charge via an honesty box.

    Soon after Black Sail begins the first of the really steep climbs up Loft Beck, once at the top still climbing passing between Haystacks and Grey Knotts. This was now mid-afternoon, and the day was at its hottest – it was very hot. Continuing along in front of us we began to see the machinery of Honister Mine on the Hillside. Descending the old tramway, we arrived at the Honister slate mine. Sadly, the café here had closed for the day.

    Looking down to Rosthwaite

    Downhill, passing by Seatoller, we came to an unusual section where you scramble over a rocky rivers edge by holding on to a chain. Different! Passing through the Youth Hostel grounds to Rosthwaite Village Hall and another very welcome support point. Food and drink all available but no drop bag here. Time for a short rest before heading out into the evening and the next big hill.

    Rosthwaite to Patterdale (14 miles 1015m ascent

    Climbing Greenup Edge

    Following Stonethwaite Beck the light was by now beginning to fade, the gradient becoming steeper and steeper until we got to the near vertical scramble of Lining Crag. This is a very steep craggy section with a poorly defined path on the way up. It was fully dark by now which made it trickier. Luckily its only short and soon we are on the top of Greenup Edge.

    We now began the steady descent down along a much easier path heading into Easdale. The temperature was now beginning to drop, becoming quite cold. Further down Easdale the lights of Grasmere were to be seen ahead.

    Grizedale Tarn

    We don’t fully reach Grasmere but turn left to begin the third big climb of the day. It’s now approaching midnight and ahead of us can be seen the lights of fellow runners as we climb at the side of Tongue Gill. This too has some quite steep sections up to Hause Gap between Seat Sandal and Fairfield. Once over the top we pass by Grizedale Tarn and begin the descent. This one is shorter, and I suppose the knowledge that once down we would be arriving at the first checkpoint kept us pressing on. Passing through Grizedale Forest and then past the Ruthwaite Climbing hut the journey continued in a mainly downward direction (Yippee).

    Paths become tracks, tracks become roads, eventually tarmac and we are here in Patterdale.

    Located in the school grounds, this is the first proper checkpoint, so we have access to our drop bags, The priority now was sleep. Berth allocated, all extra layers on in our sleeping bags; we were in a tent outside! It was Cold, Very Cold! Think it’s fair to say that sleep was minimal at best. Noise from a heater, the cold, and people just milling around. We had allowed ourselves 3 hours sleep – still rest is better than nothing. Once back in the main tent we picked a spot nearer the cooking area, away from the draughty doorway to put things away back in bag. Change clothes, have breakfast. Prepare feet, change shoes. Then it was off out again. It was now daylight.

    Patterdale to Shap (15 miles, 950m ascent)

    The prospect of another nice day lay ahead of us. We were about to do the last of the Lakeland big hills, Kidsty Pike. This one doesn’t seem as bad it’s a steady climb up the hillside before we turn towards Angle Tarn. There were lots of people wild camping up there. Bet they were cold overnight! Up to the top where we reflected on how bad the weather was last time; we were here on the recce last October. This time it was glorious sunshine as we summitted Kidsty, the highest point on the whole route, over the top then it’s a very sharp descent to Haweswater.

    Haweswater

    Once down we follow the side of the reservoir for what seems an eternity. Just like Ennerdale Water, it’s not flat so there is still some climbing to do, eventually reaching the end and the first habitation in a while. Here in Burnbanks is a small tuck shop/cold box with some flapjack and drinks available (cold). After a pause it was on across fields and tracks to Shap Abbey and Shap support point for food – no drop bags this time.

    Shap to Kirkby Steven (19 miles 418m ascent)

    From here to the next checkpoint is 19 miles, not too far really. One of our fellow run/walkers decided to call for a Guinness before leaving Shap! No, we weren’t tempted this time. It was late in the afternoon by now and we needed to press on. It’s worth mentioning that on this stretch we noticed the shiny new finger posts were quite inconsistent, at least when it came to miles marked on them. So, the distances went down but only by a little but then they went down a lot and after that not so much. I (Chris T) had also at this point had a problem with my watch Navigation app: (somewhat annoying) but I had to learn to live with it.

    This section is just bumpy, and progress was beginning to slow. It was proving another long day. Don’t suppose the featureless cold dark moors which seemed to go on forever helped. I was beginning to fall asleep on my feet, but there were still a few miles to do to get to Kirkby Stephen. Tantalising lights in the distance of some habitation but not there yet. Getting stuck the wrong side of a wall near an old farmhouse all added to the long remaining miles. Finally, we begin to drop off the moor and into the town. The support point is in the school here. So, we follow the route and walk all the way right round to the back of the building. This time we are inside …. Warm and suitably refreshed, we again go to get some sleep. The staff apologised that the tents which were erected in an unheated sports hall. But they were inside. Much warmer than last night, luxury. I We had a few hours’ sleep (probably 3-4).

    Kirkby Steven to Reeth (Nearly) (32 miles 1068m ascent)

    I woke up feeling much better, Breakfast was porridge, and some scrambled egg. Tea, of course. Chris B was still in bed. I texted, messaged, one of the staff was going to see where she was and then she appeared …. Slept in! we were looking forward to an easier day ahead. Only 30 miles to Richmond.

    At just on first light we set off up the hill to the Nine Standards. It was a glorious morning, and we were making good progress.

    The stone slab flagging of Nine Standards is still very much work in progress. Piles of slabs waiting to be laid. New bridges mainly over the deeper groughs, two diggers on the hillside but I understand that work had paused due to ground nesting bird season. Having said that, the piles of slabs, the new bridges and the fact that the weather was incredibly dry meant that what should have been a bog fest wasn’t. Plus, what remained of the boggy bits were still frozen because of overnight frost.

    Eventually we came off the moors and arrived at the head of Swaledale. It was from here the wheels began to properly come off the bus for me. The food I had for breakfast had clearly run out and not I’m sure what I was thinking of. In my head it was a nice easy trot down easy valley paths to Reeth. No. Here the C2C splits to low level and high level. We do the high-level route up and over the moors past the old lead mine workings. It’s an interesting area but it goes up, then down, then up again. It was across one of the moor tops that I had a wander off the path again due to lack of sleep or energy, take your pick. Following yet another steep down and up and then the prospect of another steep scramble coupled with the fact that we were losing ground timewise, a decision was looming. Not a decision I have had to take before, and it was hard. I was not really feeling hill-safe anymore. Its OK wandering off a nice path, but not on a steep scramble. I had a sit down and had to have the discussion with Chris B. In reality my time was up. A quickly planned exit strategy down to Gunnerside following the river was my way off the hill.

    I spent the next hour on my way down telling myself that I really had no option. The tiredness was probably brought on not being able to eat. Lots of high energy bars with me, but I couldn’t eat any of them. A nightmare! I never have been able to fully resolve my fuel intake in hot weather. Once depleted it takes a lot of catching up. My feet were fine, my fitness was fine, but there was nothing left in the fuel tank.

    To say I was gutted was an understatement. Once down the hill I was met by two Safety Team personnel who were heading out to find me. I was nearly at Gunnerside. They were very sympathetic and said I had absolutely made the right decision. When I arrived at their van I had done 99.95 miles. They said I couldn’t leave it there and made me walk round the van to push it over a hundred.

    I was then taken to the next checkpoint at Richmond. The staff there were also very sympathetic. I was even given a hug by one of the helpers there I knew from my time on the Spine. So, something to eat and drink, and I was falling asleep at the table, so I was encouraged to go to bed in one of the tents. Might as well as I was waiting to be picked up by Helen.

    I had completed 100 miles and over 17,200 ft (5250m) of climbing.

    Meanwhile I last saw Chris B scrambling up the steep climb to yet another moor. She phoned in my intentions to race HQ. It was then an easy down to Reeth. Could I have made it? Possibly but at what cost? It took best part of a week for things to get back to some semblance of normal.

    Reeth to Richmond (10 miles 314m ascent)

    Chris B: I was sure in my mind that Chris T had made the right decision. We’d always had an agreement that if one of us dropped out, the other would continue if they could. I had sore feet but apart from that I was fine, and I knew that I could make up a bit of time. At the point when Chris decided to retire and descend to the valley, there was no phone signal, so the most important thing was for me to get to a point where I could phone Race Control and explain what was going on. I climbed up to a cairn where there was a signal and talked to a lovely lady who told me they would send out the safety team to meet Chris at Gunnerside.

    Thankfully from this point, the track down to Reeth was good and I was able to run and make it to the Dales Bike Centre café before it closed, enjoying tea, cake and a can of coke. It was here that I caught up with Bev and Richard who had been running together for a while and who immediately said they were happy for me to join them. They set off before me, but I soon caught them, and we continued together. I was wearing shorts and a T-shirt, but the temperature dropped once again to around freezing and we needed to put on several more layers as we descended to the Richmond support point with access to our drop bags. I ate some mac n’ cheese, had my feet attended to (strangely, by a member of Buxton MRT) and got into my sleeping bag for a couple of hours sleep. I was so glad that I had taken my 4-season sleeping bag and a good Therm-A-Rest as the tents were very cold. I did sleep however and got up again at 2am to have more attention to my feet, more food and more re-packing.

    Richmond to Lordstones (31 miles, 850m ascent)

    This section goes through the Vale of York and is much flatter than the previous sections. It involves a lot of road sections interspersed with hard track which proved to be hard on the feet in the warm daytime weather. Setting off in the dark at 4am with Richard and Bev, we followed the river Swale out of Richmond to a footbridge over the A1. We then continued on roads and tracks: fast walking and a little bit of jogging (or ultra shuffling) remembering to eat every time I felt a little bit hungry. We eventually arrived at Danby Wiske, where a lovely man walking the Coast to Coast told us it was worth diverting 200m off the route to a campsite with an honesty box and hot drinks and that the owner would make bacon sandwiches if asked. We were so glad that we took his advice – he even accompanied us to show us where things were. True to his word the lady made me hot egg sandwiches, we had several cups of coffee, and she charged us £4! And I was able to put more tape on my little toes! Fortified for the next few miles, we progressed to the A19 road crossing. This is a notoriously fast road and has a reputation for being difficult to cross. I arrived just in front of the other two and caught up with Luke and Sarah who had been into a nearby petrol station and had more real food in their hands. I decided more food was needed and stocked up. In the event it wasn’t too difficult to cross the road via the central reservation and we started the climb up onto the Yorkshire Moors. The climb was fine but the descent into the Lordstones support point was painful. We arrived about 5pm, had some food and I got into my sleeping bag for an hour and a half sleep knowing that I had only 40 miles left to do and that I was likely to be able to finish even though I would have to go right through the night!

    Lordstones to Robin Hood’s Bay (41 miles1472m ascent)

    Bev, Richard and I left Lordstones just after 9pm and began the first of four ups and downs onto the North York Moors proper. The descents between were like going down Jacob’s Ladder near Edale except longer – no fun with sore feet. We found our way through the Wain Stones, which involved a bit of scrambling, and soon reached the old railway which goes on and on and on, especially in the dark. Everything eventually passes though, and then we were on bits of roads and hard stony tracks to the Glaisdale support point at the half way point about 20 miles into this last stage, arriving about 6am just as it was getting light. I was very sleepy and was even nodding off when I was having one of my big toenails lanced by the medic as it had fluid underneath it and had been agony for the last few miles. I ate, drank several cups of tea and coffee, and had half an hour’s nap across three chairs. A few minutes after 8am we set off again through a few villages and our final climb of the whole route. Soon after we arrived at the Falling Foss café, which was very busy, but I really needed more proper food. I queued up with Richard and saw the most amazing bacon sandwiches being served on ciabatta bread. Now I don’t eat meat, but the veggie choice was a small vegetable tart which would not hit the spot. I went for a BLT. It was the best thing! We now only had 10 miles to go – we could see Whitby Abbey in the distance and after arriving at the coast we had a few miles south to go along the clifftop and then a descent through the town to the finish line on the seafront at Robin Hood’s Bay. I was met by Dave, Gwynne and members of the Ourea event team.

    It had taken 106 hours 27 minutes, and I was the oldest person to finish, of which I am very proud! I was presented with my (wooden) medal and I remembered to cast my little pebble into the sea!

    The Finish!

  • Using the GVS Online Calendar

    We have an online calendar which is visible on our web site at https://www.goytvalleystriders.org.uk/pages/members.html. Our intention is that all our events – training, sessions club races, championship races, away runs, social events – are published there. As well as the web site, the calendar is available as an iCalendar , which can be accessed in many of the apps you might use to manage your diary.

    The web address of the GVS Calendar is https://calendar.google.com/calendar/ical/kg84h67iat4jkv4jtkv9je5v38%40group.calendar.google.com/public/basic.ics

    How to add the GVS calendar to the calendar on my device?

    For Outlook.com

    1. Sign in to Outlook.com
    2. At the bottom of the page, select the calendar icon.
    3. In the navigation pane, select Import calendar.
    4. Under Import calendar, select From the web.
    5. Under Link to the calendar, copy the calendar’s web address.
    6. Select Import.

    For Mac

    1. In the Calendar app on your Mac, choose File > New Calendar Subscription.
    2. Enter the calendar’s web address, then click Subscribe.
    3. Click the Auto-refresh pop-up menu, then choose how often to update the calendar.

    For iPhone

    1. Go to Settings > Calendar > Accounts > Add Account > Other
    2. Tap Add Subscribed Calendar.
    3. Enter the calendar’s web address to subscribe to and any other required server information.

    For Google Calendar (on Web)

    1. On your computer, open Google Calendar.
    2. On the left, next to “Other calendars,” click Add From URL.
    3. Enter the calendar’s web address in the field provided.
    4. Click Add calendar.
    5. Copy the iCal feed address.

    For Android

    1. Follow the instructions for Google Calendar, from a computer.
    2. On your phone, open the Google Calendar a
    3. Open the menu, and then go to Settings.
    4. Scroll to the calendar email where you added the new iCal feed
    5. Tap on Show more.
    6. Tap on your new calendar’s name.
    7. Switch the Sync option on.
    8. You may also change your notifications for this calendar on this screen.

  • Winter Training Sessions Update

    A reminder to everyone that this winter we will be running regular Thursday evening training sessions. 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♀️❄️

    The first session is now scheduled to take place Thursday 31st October at 7pm. 🗓️⏰

    I have included a provisional list of sessions for the five dates below on this spreadsheet (also linked on the club website) which I will continue to update over winter. 📅🔗🌐

    Autumn / Winter Hill Training Sessions

    They are also listed in the club’s online Google Calendar

    The sessions will focus on hill work and speed with an emphasis on V02 Max and Lactate Threshold to improve capacity at higher intensities and hopefully help people progress towards their goals.⛰️🏃‍♀️⚡💪

    I hope to see as many people attending as possible and once we get started I’ll hone the sessions to help all those attending.👥👍

    Please pass on the details to anyone not on Social Media and sign up for the dedicated Thursday Training Whatsapp group

    #goytvalleystriders #thursdaytraining #hillsession #speedsession

  • GVS 2025 Championships are here!

    GVS 2025 Championships are here!

    This year features:

    Main Championship

    Expanded to 24 races (2 per month) covering road, fell, and trail events to suit all abilities.
    💥 Example Races:

    • Poynton 10K: Flat and fast, ideal for PBs. (Also part of the Winter Road Series)
    • Doctor’s Gate Fell Race: Tough route, with steep climbs.

    https://www.goytvalleystriders.org.uk/pages/championships/2025champs/2025champ.html

    Summer Fell Championship

    Reduced to 6 races—all part of the Main Champs! So potential to score points in 2 series!
    💥 Highlights:

    • Rainow 5: Scenic 8km course.
    • Shelf Moor: 10km with steep climbs.

    https://www.goytvalleystriders.org.uk/pages/championships/2025champs/2025fellchamp.html

    Mini Championship

    New for beginners or those returning to racing!
    💥 Features:

    • Congleton parkrun: Best 5km time in April.
    • Marple Beer Run: 4km fun race.

    https://www.goytvalleystriders.org.uk/pages/championships/2025champs/2025minichamp.html

    Winter Road Championship 2024/25

    Ongoing, crossing into 2025 (2025 Races are also part of the main championship).
    💥 Races:

    • Stockport 10: Iconic 10-mile race.
    • Meltham Race: A testing road route.

    https://www.goytvalleystriders.org.uk/pages/championships/2024champs/2024roadchamp.html

    Ready to race? Sign up early to secure your spots!

    We would love to see you get involved, challenge yourself, and meet new friends.


    #GVS2025 #GVSClubChampionship

  • Adventures of an Insomniac Wandering through the Swiss Alps to the sweet sound of Cow Bell Music

    Adventures of an Insomniac Wandering through the Swiss Alps to the sweet sound of Cow Bell Music

    By Gavin Peach

    Sunday, August 28th, 2022, I was very happy to finish UTMB, crossing the finish line in Chamonix to an atmosphere unmatched in the world of ultra running. It was my first ‘true’ 100-miler (actually 106 miles) and the first time I went over 10,000m in elevation gain/loss. I had completed ‘The West Highland Way Challenge Race’ earlier in the year and struggled significantly with blisters (an ongoing challenge) due to the boggy Loch Lomond section. This altered my gait and led to a knee injury, which resulted in me taking six weeks off after the race—far from ideal for UTMB—but I persevered, and finishing UTMB was beyond anything I had ever imagined. At the time, I remember thinking, “Could I top this experience?”

    That winter, during the work Christmas party, a colleague asked me nonchalantly, “What’s next?” and my immediate reply was, “I want to do TOR330 or Swiss Peaks 360 in 2024, but in 2023 I want to gain more experience on the toughest 100-mile routes in Europe.” After completing UTS100k and UTS 50-mile, I knew the 100-mile course was a beast, with a 68% DNF rate. Likewise, after quizzing many experienced 100-mile runners about the most technical and challenging 100-mile race in the Alps or Pyrenees, ‘L’Echappée Belle Intégrale’ was the race that kept coming up in discussion. By January, I had signed up for UTS 100-mile and L’Echappée Belle Intégrale.

    Unfortunately, along with the Helvellyn Sky Race and the Glencoe Skyrace, L’Echappée Belle Intégrale was affected by the weather, and we only completed the first 64km (although I’m informed this is the most technically challenging section). Nevertheless, I gained more experience in an Alpine race and had to battle through sickness to finish the 64km, as I had suspected food poisoning the day before. All of this requires mental toughness, which is integral to success in these types of events.

    In 2024, I did UTS 100-mile again and gained more experience, and by Sunday, 1st September 2024, I felt ready for the challenge.

    I had spent two nights in Fiesch and got to know several 660km competitors (Tim Woodier gets a special mention as he had been amazingly helpful providing information and sharing his experience with me via social media before the race) and a few 360km ones, and I can honestly say that arriving in Oberwald, this was one of the strongest-looking start lines I had ever seen. No one was ‘winging’ this one, and if they were, they wouldn’t make the cut.

    The main issue for me was that I hadn’t slept well on 31st August due to noise in the hostel as the 660km race set off at midnight from Fiesch to Oberwald. There was noise all night, and I was aware that I had barely slept. Sleep deprivation was to become the primary difficulty throughout the event.

    Race day one went well, and I paced myself comfortably, with a huge buffer over the cut-offs. I arrived at Lifebase 1, Fiesch (my accommodation for two nights), before dark and had a nice meal before setting off with my headtorch for night one. The first night went well, and I wasn’t too tired, but I was counting on a good sleep at Lifebase 2 (Eisten), which, unfortunately, didn’t happen. The sleeping area consisted of PE mats spread out in a noisy hall, and after lying down for 45 minutes, sleep didn’t come. However, I had a sports massage (although a chiropractor surprised me beforehand, as I was expecting a massage 🤣) and a shower, which revitalised me a little. But, like an energy gauge on a battery, I felt I had gained a ‘bar’, but by the time I reached the Jungu aid station, I was already feeling this bar was dissipating.

    At this point, I had partnered with two Belgian guys (Sebastian and Maxim), who ended up as the 360 Duo Champions, and they encouraged me to keep up with them. Soon after leaving Jungu, however, my tiredness hit, and they went ahead, having had far more luck with sleep than I had. I was alone on the mountain for night two, and this was one of the toughest nights of the race for me. The poor sleep in Fiesch the night before, combined with two nights on the course with no sleep, took its toll.

    Arriving at the Bluömatt aid station (139.2km) in the dead of night, I noticed psychedelic lava-lamp-style shapes emanating from people’s race vests and shiny surfaces. I dreaded another 1000m-plus climb to the summit of Forclettaz (2,874m) and the even longer descent to the aid station at Tsahélet and ultimately Lifebase 3 at Grimentz (157.7km). That said, the raclette omelets lifted my spirits a bit. The section over Augstbordpass (2,892m), where I had been alone since parting with the Belgian guys, was tough as I navigated boulder fields while my concentration dipped due to sleep deprivation. By the time I started the climb to Forclettaz, I was using tricks to keep going, such as rewarding myself every 250m of elevation gain by leaning against a rock for 5 minutes and setting the timer on my watch to prevent falling asleep. Slowly but surely, I fought my way up to Tsahélet, where someone asked if they could sleep (they had one mattress in the tent), but I pushed on towards Grimentz, hoping for better rest at the more substantial Lifebase.

    Upon arrival at Grimentz, daylight was beginning to break, and I received a text alert instructing me to ‘ignore the GPX and follow the flags’. This was the only message I received during the race, which was odd, as there were far more significant route changes within the mountains that went unannounced. I’m told French-speaking participants were verbally informed at checkpoints, but as a non-French speaker, I was left in the dark.

    The Lifebase at Grimentz was excellent. I managed to sleep for 1 hour and 30 minutes (in hindsight, I should have slept longer, as it was quiet in the dorm with just two of us in the room). I had reaped the benefits of the sports massage at Eisten, so I decided it was worth queuing at Lifebases for treatment. Each time I queued here, I ended up with Luca Papi, the multiple-champion ultrarunner who had advocated for the creation of the 660km course. He was struggling with his feet and getting them frequently treated and taped. Luca and Irish runner Brian Mullins had intended to finish the 660 race and then immediately travel to Courmayeur to participate in TOR 450. Luca didn’t make it in time, but Brian traveled to Italy and managed 75km of TOR450 before a DNF—a remarkable feat considering that back-to-back, he had completed UTS 100-mile, Crossing Switzerland 420km, Grossglockner 110km, and PicaPica 100km, with very little rest between them, before embarking on the 660km race (nine days after finishing PicaPica). Meeting people like this is inspiring, showing what the human body and mind are capable of achieving.

    After some fresh eggs and roasted potatoes, I left the Lifebase and briefly bumped into Guillaume, who had just finished his massage.

    I set off, reinvigorated by the sleep and could marvel at the views of the Alpage de Torrent—the mountains, dam, and glacier melt were so vivid in colour. A woman filming for the race approached me to ask how I felt about the views. I had also been on the live broadcast at Chäserstatt aid station on day one. From Alpage de Torrent, I continued the climb to Col de Torrent (2,916m, the high point of the race), where I met an English hiker who encouraged me and told me Kim Collison was winning the 360.

    The sleep at Grimentz powered me through the day, and I arrived at Thyon (Lifebase 4, 204.2km), where I met Tim Wiggins for the first time in the late hours.. I had a shower, a massage, and had my feet fixed, as a few hotspots had started to appear. The podiatrist treated and taped them while Luca Papi, snoring next to me, was undergoing the same process. I then tried to sleep in the dorm, as I needed it—my energy bar was almost at zero. Unfortunately, despite my efforts, I lay there for two hours like an insomniac, hyper-alert to the snoring, which seemed to come from at least a dozen people. Earplugs made no difference, and I remember thinking about the futility of wishing I could sleep like them. After two hours, I got up and ate some lasagne before leaving in the dark, hoping the two hours of lying down and the massage would help.

    As I left the Lifebase, light started to break, and I arrived at the Tortin aid station already exhausted (not a good sign, considering there were still 80km and 5,300m of elevation gain/loss to go before Salvan Lifebase). Luca arrived shortly after me, receiving the usual celebrity welcome, with people taking selfies with him. He had obviously slept well and had a new lease of life, leaving before me. A Belgian 360 runner also arrived, looking severely sleep-deprived and massively disappointed when the volunteers told him there were no beds. I prepared to continue, and the volunteer, with a wry smile, told me to “just keep up with Luca,” assuring me the way to Lourtier was easy to follow.I was exhausted and down as I focused (not for the first time) on the psychedelic music from the jangle of cowbells. In the dark, the cowbells and, more disconcertingly, the growling and barking of nearby Patou were a common theme, and it carried through into the daylight.

    As I neared the top of Col de Chassoure (2743m), Tim Wiggins caught up with me, and it was extremely uplifting to spend some time chatting with him as we moved towards Lourtier aid station. The human contact and lack of isolation gave me a new lease of life, and I skipped the sleeping option at Lourtier, overtaking Luca to stick with Tim, believing I might be OK to get to Salvan Lifebase (still 57km away). We set off on the incredibly steep climb to Cabane Brunet aid station but unfortunately lost the flags, and the route was wildly different from the GPX. We eventually arrived at a road and were told by volunteers to continue upwards, assuring us that the flags would reappear (they didn’t). After wasting at least 30–45 minutes, Tim and I decided to work out our own route up the mountain, following the “Bergwanderweg” Swiss white and red hiking markers we had seen throughout the route, realising they would also lead us to Cabane Brunet. After the stress of losing the route and time, we left Cabane Brunet. Again, there was a bed, but I decided to carry on with Tim. But this time, as with the Belgian guys, tiredness hit me, and I started to feel the cold, so I had to put on extra layers while Tim began to disappear over the horizon.

    At this point, Jonas, a German runner, caught up with me. He was concerned with how little sleep I’d had, warning me it was dangerous. I told him that by hook or by crook, I had to sleep at Prassurny aid station, and if there were no beds, I was doomed. The long, hard descent to Prassurny seemed to take forever. When we arrived in the town, the flags seemed to disappear again, with the GPX being different once more. A combination of GPX and flags took me and Jonas to the aid station at around 9 p.m., where Jonas, who had arrived a few minutes earlier, greeted me with “They have beds.” He told me he had slept well but was going to stay until 3:45 a.m., and I said I’d do the same after eating turkey breast with coconut polenta. One of the volunteers managing the beds agreed to wake me at 3:45 a.m., but I got a tap on the shoulder at 2 a.m., which I surmised was due to the queue of slumped, tired bodies in the eating area who needed the bed. That said, I had slept (despite the snoring) from 9:30 p.m. until 2 a.m., and felt like a new person. Jonas had already left (he told me later at Salvan that he hadn’t been able to sleep there). I had another portion of turkey breast and coconut polenta before stepping out into the dark and torrential rain, heading towards Chapex de Lac, a town I knew well from UTMB (though I’ve yet to see it in daylight). After a few kilometres, I realised the flags were leading us in the opposite direction to the GPX. I assumed this must be due to the weather, but again, it would have been nice if this had been communicated via text or even verbally. I recognised some of the terrain via Bovine etc. as it was effectively the UTMB route to Col de la Forclaz. Despite the route change, it was still a monster section in the rain, with around 2000m of ascent followed by a big, muddy, and slippery descent to the rustic aid station at Forclaz. There were numerous home-cooked delicacies on offer here, and a few people I had been around who were struggling with the heavy rain and fatigue were uplifted by the variety of homemade food. Luca was there again, entertaining everyone, leaving and immediately returning due to the horrendous rainfall. Being English and used to the rain, I stepped out into it for the climb to Mont de l’Apille (2053m) and the long descent down to Lifebase 5 at Salvan (287.3km) for a morning arrival, and much relief knowing I had completed the longest and hardest section of the race. After a shower and fresh clothes, I went for another sports massage and saw the podiatrist. The steep, muddy, and slippery conditions were really starting to take their toll, so the treatment of blisters and taping service on offer here was crucial.

    Salvan felt like entering a huge vault with safe doors. There were numerous bunks, making it a great place to rest. I lay down for an hour and a half, and I think I got around 45 minutes of proper sleep. I had some pasta with beef bolognese and set off back into the rain in the early afternoon. One of the French runners who had been struggling on the climb to Forclaz, when he told me he had hit a low point, mentioned that the route had been altered on the next section due to the weather. Apparently, they were informing participants verbally, but this wasn’t being relayed to non-French speakers. Nevertheless, I set off on the alternative route, which was effectively a huge staircase cut up a waterfall, almost leading directly to the checkpoint at Salanfe (1933m). As I progressed, I caught up with a local Swiss participant who had managed to borrow a waterproof jacket from a campsite after forgetting to take his from the Lifebase. Upon arrival at Salanfe, it was a relief to step into a warm environment, where we could hang up our rain gear for a spell and get dry while enjoying some good quality food. I learned that the final aid station at Chaux Palin didn’t exist, and there were no sleeping options at Balme (the next aid station). Salanfe was the best place for rest if needed, but after Prassurny and Salvan, I felt I could continue. I put on my still-soaked rain gear and set off alone towards Col de Susanfe (2493m), which is when I left the WhatsApp message to club members.

    This part of the course was particularly stunning, featuring some via ferrata on both the ascent and descent, along with snow accumulation. It started to get dark as I began the long descent, firstly down the via ferrata (which I enjoyed), but then onto steep, muddy, off-camber trails, which had become like torrents in the rain. I could feel my feet being destroyed as I braked in the ankle-deep mud. The last few kilometres towards Morgins Lifebase were hard work and painful on my feet. The sleep gauge was low again, and although I wasn’t at the Prassurny level of tiredness, my blisters had now become my primary issue. A few kilometres from Morgins, I noticed a car stopped on the road. A woman approached, asking for help, wanting the Swiss Peaks emergency number. My phone was so wet that I couldn’t get the touchscreen to work properly, but I downloaded the SOS app onto her phone so she could call race HQ. Her friend had stopped on the tracker, and she had driven with another man to his location, finding him asleep at the side of the road. They put him in the car and drove to Morgins, which she informed me was close by. I arrived at around 3:30 a.m. The woman thanked me again and asked if she could help me, but I told her I just needed sleep.

    The lifebase was great as I had my own room in a hotel. Before going to bed, I bumped into Tim, who was getting ready to head out again. He looked exhausted but told me he just wanted to get it over and done with. When I saw him at the end, he told me he’d completed the last stretch with headphones blasting out ‘What’s the Story Morning Glory’ for motivation. There was no bedding, but I got into my liner and lay down. However, I couldn’t get comfortable due to the cold and the fact I’d spent nearly 24 hours in heavy rain. I had to get up and put on my down jacket and any dry clothes I still had. By this stage, I had a bag full of sweat-drenched, muddy clothes and destroyed, soaked, muddy shoes, so I didn’t have much left for comfort.

    I woke up around 7.30am, but at least half of that time, if not more, I’d been too cold to sleep. Still, it was an improvement on Thyon, Einstein, and some other places where I’d attempted to sleep. Lying down on my own for 4 hours definitely helped though. When I woke up, I couldn’t flex my right ankle properly due to the braking and the blisters on the slippery, muddy descents. The physio was excellent and gave a new lease of life to my ankle. He was from Italy and told me he loved Scotland, adding that the issue was, “396km is just too much”. 🙂 The podiatrist also fixed my feet, treated the infected blisters, and taped my feet again.

    I had some breakfast and saw Guillaume again before putting on my muddy, soaked shoes and setting off for the final leg. It was 42km and 2500m, which, as my perspective had shifted so much, I’d convinced myself it was not too far. Right from the start, I knew it would be a death march. I practiced focusing on the scenery, on my breath—anything to distract myself from the pain. “Positive thoughts,” said the woman I’d helped the night before as I left Morgins.

    DCIM100GOPROGOPR0074.JPG

    The views on the final day were superb, with clouds sitting in the valley as I climbed towards ‘Tour de Don’ (1998m). Shortly after that, I got my first view of Lake Geneva. “From the mountains to the lake,” the slogan of the race went through my head. The aid stations had amazing food and music, and the closer I got to the end, the better the atmosphere became.

    Between the aid stations at Chalet de Blansex and Taney, I teamed up with Ayako, who was the 5th place woman. She didn’t speak French or English, so it was an opportunity for me to practice my Japanese. Focusing on speaking in Japanese helped distract me from the pain. Once again, it makes a huge difference when you have a bit of company for a spell. Ayako was taking pictures and told me she was sad this might be the last time she would ever see these places and views. She also told me her friend Junko, who she had teamed up with for the PTL in 2023, was the 2nd place woman in the 360. There was a huge Japanese contingent on the 660 and 360 races. One guy I chatted to on the train told me he had done the TOR seven times; so Ultra long Ultras are definitely appealing to Japanese runners.

    As we left Taney, I stayed with Ayako until we reached the descent from Col de la Croix (1757m), where she went ahead, as my blisters on the descent were too painful to move any faster. I caught up with a French runner who was hobbling down injured. He had DNF’d at 270km the previous year, so was happy that this time he would finish. Behind me, I noticed Guillaume (my roommate from Fiesch and the first person I’d properly met), whom I’d bumped into at aid stations and lifebases but had never actually run with. We teamed up for company as he was struggling with tiredness and muscle aches. We arrived at the last aid station, ‘Le Grand Pré’ (369.9km), where we had salmon filet with potatoes—another excellent Swiss Peaks meal.

    Not long to go now. Three of the French runners left the aid station before me and Guillaume, and we moved slowly, winding our way up and down through the forest tracks. Lake Geneva was getting closer 🙂. As we approached the last 5km, I said to Guillaume, “Cancel out the pain, positive thoughts, focus on getting to Le Bouveret as quickly as possible.” I started to run fast with Guillaume behind me. I was reading my watch, shouting, “4km to go… 3.5km to go… 2km to go… 0.5km to go.” I overtook the three French guys but noticed Guillaume wasn’t behind me, so I pressed on. I reached the harbour, close to the finish, and could hear the cheers and music—a return to normality. As I crossed the finish line to sparks and cheers, the first person I spoke to was Luca Papi, who’d finished shortly before, and he congratulated me.

    I welcomed the beer, having enjoyed a few non-alcoholic ones at aid stations, but this was the real thing. I was too exhausted to hang around, though. The final challenge was finding the bags, showers, and dorms, as there were no signs or maps explaining where to go, and it was at the other side of Le Bouveret. Eventually, I located my bags at the infamous ‘Bunker’—think sleeping in the ‘Bangkok Hilton’ (not the hotel variety😂 ). When I fell asleep on a bunk, it wasn’t too busy, but when I woke up in the early hours, there were bags and bodies everywhere. As I went to the toilet, people were strewn across the floor in the sink and table areas with bags and equipment, and litter covered every inch of space. Someone asked me if they could take my space, and I said, “I was just going to the toilet.”

    I spent two nights here, with the second night being marginally less busy, but it was an absolute dump by Sunday morning, and I couldn’t wait to get out. On Sunday night, someone grabbed hold of my ankle instead of the mattress they wanted to drag off the bunk—could have ended badly as I woke up with a shock 😂. All the shorter race runners had also showered there, and it was pretty grim (as I say, the final challenge).

    Luckily, on Saturday, I had a nice post-race meal at a restaurant on the harbour (included in the entry fee). I sat in the sun, soaking up the atmosphere, and beer seemed to be a free-for-all until around 5pm, when I was told they would only give beer and food to people finishing the race on Saturday. I watched Courtney Dewaulter come in on the 70km and congratulated her as she walked past the adoring crowds. I had a massage and saw the podiatrist, who told me to keep my feet dry as I had infected blisters, so I avoided a swim in the lake and the shower in the bunker, which I guessed was even worse.

    I honestly cannot thank the physios and podiatrists enough; they truly were best in class and helped so many people finish. The podiatrist told me the third-place woman in the 360 had infected wrecked feet but had decided to run the marathon. 200-mile-plus runners definitely are a unique breed😂 .

    As Sunday came, I dragged all my stuff outside into the quadrangle as I didn’t want to pack inside the bunker. My bag was full of sweat-drenched, muddy clothes—it truly was horrible. I went to the awards ceremony, which started with the local dance groups performing, followed by an amazing ceremony celebrating the 660 and 360 finishers, where prizes were given and everyone was put on the podium to receive their medal and a special finisher’s Compressport windproof. All the other distances received their rewards at the finish, but it was a nice touch to reward us in this special way.

    The ceremony lasted around two hours, and in the middle of it, we witnessed a sprint finish between first and second place in the half marathon, who crossed the line in the midst of the celebrations. It was great to see so many faces I’d met before and during the race, like Guillaume, Jean Baptiste, Liz Hopkins (who told me Courtney had offered her encouragement when she was struggling), Luca, Ayako, Junko, Sebastian, and Maxim, and many others. Sebastian and Maxim said they were worried about me when they left me after Jungu. I took some pictures of them with their winning Duo trophy.

    Then it was time for the train journey back to Geneva Airport and a return to normality. I celebrated at the ‘La Goudale Bar’ near the hotel, and the next day, I returned home with great memories and a life experience I’ll never forget. Finishing a race like this isn’t about time or position, and with more than 50% DNF’ing out of one of the strongest fields I’ve been involved in, I congratulate anyone who finished either the 660 or 360 (actually 396.91km, 28168m). I’ll always remember the people I spent time with. I’ve been in contact with a few since, and Tim Wiggins, who is a Lake District challenge aficionado, has offered to help put together a Bob Graham Round team for me next year. It’s one of the toughest mountain races in the world, so I’m truly grateful to have finished it and those that did it with me will remain comrades.

    What’s next? Well, I’m doing UTS 100km and signed up for Lakeland 100 during Swiss Peaks . As I didn’t want to spend time on the form for relevant experience, I wrote ‘Swiss Peaks 360 – in progress’😂. In the realm of 200+ milers; ’Well, if anyone in the club is interested and serious about the ‘PTL’ next August, please get in touch (it needs to be a team of 2 or 3, and it’s hard 🙂).

    If anyone wants to know more about Swiss Peaks, Alpine ultras, or ultras in general, then please get in touch, and I’ll be happy to advise and help: gavinpeach@aol.com. Also, I will be editing a video of the vlogs I made during the event itself (watch this space).

    I hope to see you all soon, and fingers crossed I’ll have shaken off this cold and be ready for Congleton Half Marathon; I’m not expecting to pull up any trees. Thank you to everyone for tracking me and your support—it means a lot, especially when you are in the thick of it and the climbs and descents keep coming at you like waves.

    Also,if there is one word I associate with this race, which I heard more than any other it is ‘Dormir’🙂. And for the last 2 weeks that’s exactly what I’ve been doing 😀.

    Finally thank you sincerely to the Organisers, volunteers, physios, podiatrists, and fellow runners who helped make this 2 year project become a reality. It was significantly the hardest race and most difficult week I’ve ever had both mentally and physically, but also the most rewarding.I will be forever indebted to you all.

    Route Profile

    My overall time 130hrs 48mins 11secs, 53rd Place out of 133 finishers, 135 DNF. 

    Only 56 finished the 660 with 106 DNF’s.

  • The Signpost Challenge Hike 20th October 2024

    By Helen Gray

    South Manchester LDWA is a large group with more than 200 members. The organisation of the Goyt Valley Challenge was passed over to our close neighbours High Peak LDWA some years ago and, although we are active in helping out with this, creating and organising our own event once more was something the committee thought would be very worthwhile.

    I volunteered to coordinate the project and our starting point was a 24-mile route planned by Dave Gosling which starts and finishes in Marple. Having secured a grant from the LDWA for purchasing essential equipment, we began to work on finessing the route and timing system. Entries opened on SI entries in April.

    The 24-mile route passes over Werneth Low, Cown Edge, Lantern Pike and Chinley Churn before returning to Marple via New Mills. The 19-mile option cuts off after Cown Edge via Rowarth. There is over 4000ft of elevation in the long route, presenting a real challenge to walkers to complete within the 10-hour limit. In addition, there will be self-clips at some Peak and Northern Footpaths signs along the way to test route finding skills.

    The views along the way are amazing: from the Manchester skyline to Kinder and the Dark Peak, showcasing the best that the area has to offer. In addition, the route passes areas of industrial heritage in Broadbottom and New Mills and traverses the stunning Millenium Walkway.

    There are 4 outdoor checkpoints with drinks and snacks; tea, coffee and pastries at the start and a hot pot meal at the finish.

    Entries are open on SI entries, £17 LDWA £22 non-members. https://www.sientries.co.uk/event.php?event_id=13158

    Any help which you could offer is greatly appreciated.

    Email mailto:signposthike@yahoo.com

    Helen Gray

  • SkyRun Eryri: 14 Peaks Report

    SkyRun Eryri: 14 Peaks Report

    by Gavin Peach

    Friday, 21st June was a glorious day. Before getting in the car to Snowdonia, I was enjoying the rarity of UK summer sunshine. When I arrived at the campsite in Rhyd Ddu, it was quite different: overcast, misty, and windy, with the threat of heavy rain on the horizon. After quickly registering, I opted to put the seats down and sleep in the back of the car rather than in the tent. It was an uncomfortable night, with continuous rain hammering down and midges infiltrating the vehicle.

    At 4:45 am, I got up and had breakfast, which ended up being cold pasta from the night before, along with an electrolyte drink and a banana. I wanted to have a decent amount of food well before the race start as I knew there were only two aid stations en route, and I only intended to quickly snack at those.

    At 6 am, we boarded the coaches that took us to Aber Distillery, where everyone waited for the race to begin. The start was delayed by four minutes because two people had turned up at the distillery who hadn’t registered. Michael, the organiser, explained that they wouldn’t be able to start because all the trackers and numbers were at the Race HQ.

    The race began at quite a fast pace on the roads out of Abergwyngregyn as we wound our way up the mountain towards Foel Fras (the first peak of the day at 942m). Following this, we progressed to Foel Grach (976m), bypassing Carnedd Gwenllian (926m), which has now been added to the ‘15 Peaks’ variation but wasn’t part of this race. I felt like I was moving well, and there was a group of us in close proximity (even if we couldn’t see each other well) as we progressed to the peaks of Foel Grach (976m), Carnedd Llewelyn (1064m), Yr Elen (962m), Carnedd Dafydd (1044m), and Pen yr Ole Wen (978m) before descending to the road and the first checkpoint underneath Tryfan. The weather on the first leg was warm in the valleys but breezy up high, with poor visibility until the final stretch.

    I filled up my water bottles, had a drink, and ate a Voom Power Bar at the aid station before beginning the climb up Tryfan north ridge. It was warm at this stage, and the sun was out as we started the steep scramble up Tryfan, which I knew would be one of the tough sections. Whilst progressing up the ridge, I was passed by Mark Darbyshire and Ifan Oldfield, who were leading the way in the Snowdon Skyrace with the eventual winner, Alex Hill, hot on their heels. After summiting Tryfan (917m), we made the steep descent and started the climb up towards Glyder Fach (994m) before progressing onto Glyder Fawr (1001m), Y Garn (947m), and Elidir Fawr (923m). The Glyders were foggy for the most part, but with some good visibility when the clag dissipated. The group I’d been with for most of the race was largely in close proximity, but it was often difficult to see others due to the poor visibility. This is a long leg (harder than the first leg) and, for me, the crux of the race. Once I arrived at Nant Peris Checkpoint, I ventured over to the campsite toilets and seemed to have lost a few places as people I was ahead of must have leapfrogged me. But needs must.

    The next section is 2 km of road through the Llanberis Pass before venturing up Cwm Glas Mawr and winding its way up the steep slopes to the final steep scree approach to Crib Goch (921m). This was a tough climb as the heat of the day had kicked in and a lot had been done by this point. I was pleased to get onto the ridge and made quick progress, passing lots of runners and tourists. My rock climbing experience definitely helps me on these sections as they don’t faze me, and I can enjoy them more. The different kind of movement offers a bit of respite from the running too. As we progressed across the ridge, it wasn’t long before we arrived on Garnedd Ugain (1065m) before heading to the final out and back to Yr Wyddfa (1085m), which was as busy as ever (visibility was poor again at this stage). The final descent down the Ranger path before breaking off down towards the Race HQ was fast, and I was able to come in and finish in 9 hours, 50 minutes, and 42 seconds, 23rd place out of 179 and 6th in the M40-44 age group.

    I received my wooden medal, a bottle of beer, and a chilli baked potato and chatted with Tinka Vinks, who’d finished 2nd Lady a few minutes before me. As I’d got back reasonably early, I opted to drive back with a nice hot shower and bed being more appealing than midges and another night in the car. All in all, a great race that I’d highly recommend. My final Strava report recorded 53.83 km and 4305 m, which is more great mileage and elevation after completing UTS 100 Mile last month. Next month, I’ll be doing the Helvellyn Sky Race with the ultimate challenge coming on 1st September in Swiss Peaks 360k.

  • Three Days in May….

    …A fun challenge and under 15 miles too.

    By Matt Biglin

    Saturday morning, and 90 runners are staring up a steep earth bank, through trees and bracken. Looking for all the world like a bunch of 10 year olds who have just lost a cricket ball.
    Theyre actually just mentally picking a scrambling path through the scrub, but you can only see the bottom 10yds so its fairly pointless in fact.
    It’s the renowned Mt Famine race start. The 2nd race in the Hayfield three days in May Following, the evening before, Hayfield May Queen (started by the actual May Queen), and followed by the Lantern Pike Dash on Sunday, named after the Lantern Pike pub. Or possibly the hill.

    Always a sucker for a bit of novelty, this year I thought I’d give the triple a go. All these have featured in GVS champs recently, so they’d already be familiar to most. Its only about 10 miles in total but feels like more. The weather all weekend was *fantastic*.

    So! May Queen; this year was on the GVS summer fell list so there was a sprinkling of club turnout. I noticed on my warm up that there was a narrow bridge after about a kilometre so I was determined to get there before the bottleneck started. You can always get your breath back going single file up through the woods. I know the top bit of the hill well but there’s no good way to run down the Pike.
    I think I made 5th GVS back. A prize for Anna Aspinall (2nd F40), and 7th for William Aspinall of this parish. Full GVS listing below.

    Then Saturday, Mt Famine and that start. It’s the start that people talk about but it’s the turnaround that does the damage. The route passes Mt Famine onto South Head then inexplicably down Dimpus Clough, a 200m drop, only to clamber back up to Mt Famine again. I did this race last year on fresh legs and really felt the difference. Yet again I despair of the numbers of runners who cruise past me on the steep down. Tell them to stop it.
    Reaching the top again, I heard the marshall’s radio that the leaders had just finished. Hhmm.

    The final offroad section is a very rocky path that I can suddenly remember tripping over on 5 years ago. ‘Slowing down a bit to be careful’ is not a phrase banded about by the hard core, but I’ll live with it. Then the usual Hayfield race ending, finish through the playground.

    So that’s the main event done.

    Last lap. Sunday 11am Lantern Pike pub in Little Hayfield. You can just about see all the 1k up-1k down course from the start; the entire East side of the Pike (hill not pub). Isnt there a long and honourable race tradition of pub-hill-pub events?.
    Again there’s an initial dash to get through a gate in the first field, fording an ankle high stream, bit of upward zigzag then its just bilberries and heather all the way up. The leaders come down the same route but I didn’t stop to watch them. Turning round the trig point, I did briefly think ‘no more climbing for me this weekend’. But as we know, down can be harder than up sometimes. Some people I recognised from Saturday shot past on the down again. My Garmin has it at 2k total distance and 185m climb.

    I hung around for the results, well, just because. 50 people turned out for what must be one of the shortest races in the calendar. There were 23 completed the Three Days, I came 10th, and walked away with a bottle of beer. Cheers Pennine.

    It’s a fun challenge, a nice thing to say you’ve completed, with a great atmosphere at all three.

    May Queen GVS finishing places. Friday’s fun.

    10 Thomas Penn
    24 Wayne Grant
    28 Kevin Verdam
    34 Anna Aspinall
    38 Matt Biglin
    47 Lauren Hogarth
    56 Brian Holland
    57 Eddy Webb
    70 Anna Manley
    72 Mary Jones
    74 Kieran Smallbone