Up at 5am for a 0715 start sharp. Am told if I’m not ready then I miss out the first day of running; and am subject to Shane’s wrath! Not to worry I am ready by 0630. Give the kit list a quick mental check – map, waterproofs, compass, hat – WHAT HAVE I DONE WITH MY HAT?! OH MY GOD MY LIFE IS OVER; THEY’LL NEVER LET ME RUN NOW! Oh wait, here it is in my pocket. Stash that bad boy away for later.
Get on boat – is bloody freezing so I squash myself in the middle. Lie head on lap to grab some more zzzz’s. Hope the man opposite me does not think I’m leaning in to be closer to him. Get off boat and head to the ladies, which is actually in full view of everyone but with the psychological protection of a bush to cover my, er, bush.
Oh, it’s us to start next. Dibber goes beep. And I’m off! Starting out once again on what must be the best mountain running event ever of the calendar. Ever. Fact. I didn’t even get paid to say any of that.
Day 1 – 40km, 2400m.
A long spectacular journey over fell and through valley. We make friends along the way and I take part in a spot of ‘runner watching’ about the actual athletes. They go so fast that they are clearly not having as good a time as us – picnics, enjoying the view. Our new friends include Peter (whose real name turns out to be John), Map Man (who joins us at the Frodo hill, probably better know to lake-goers as Froswick) and whose actual name is Phillip and who is full of fun facts about sheep and cattle. I think he thought I was being sarcastic when I told him this. I wasn’t. I actually love Countryfile, especially Adam’s farm. We split off our nemesis (two very nice girls whose names I didn’t catch but we played a grand game of leapfrog with) down death gully. Close to the last checkpoint our nemesis catch back up! And then they are gone! The last kilometre or so is on road and I don’t have the inclination to run – hating the tarmac as I do although it is admittedly useful for things like driving. And into the finish. 8h 20m. I feel like a hero.
At camp we make our own wee party zone (there were four of us down from Aberdeen). It is gin o clock, and beer o clock, and eat-as-much-as-you-can-and-when-you’re-full-just-keep-eating o clock. My favourite time of the day! Simon, who we met at the GL3D last year joins the party camp. Happy times. Then 2050 is bedtime, ready for a 5am start tomorrow!
Day 2 – 49km, 2900m.
Sleep like the proverbial log. I feel refreshed and ready to take on the world! Oh, it’s raining. How pish. Wet tent down. Waterproofs on. Get going. First checkpoint somewhere in the mist... but we make it! Dib and keep going. Stop for a pee. Turn the corner and the papparazi are there! Good job I didn’t pee 5 minutes later. I can see the headlines now. GIRL PEES ON MOUNTAIN. CAMERAMAN SEES ALL. Anyway... sorry Mr Cameraman if you did see anything untoward. Down into Trout and back up Nanny Lane. What funny little names things in the Lakes have!
Follow the dykes... just follow the dykes. Oh look a sheep path. Seems to be going in the right direction, follow that instead. Reach the checkpoint with no dramas. But then disaster strikes! My running partner wants to switch to B course. Now, I’m no stranger to running in mountainous terrain by myself but it was so wet and misty and I would have another six checkpoints to see by myself. So be it. Wish each other luck and I’m off to follow more dykes. Stop to put a jacket on in the lee of the wall. Couple come over the wall.
Me to couple: Putting a jacket on, it’s cold.
Couple to me: That was lucky.
Me to couple: (confused expression) Why?
Couple to me: Cold... is that like code for having a pee.
Erm, no, I was just cold. I think we have established earlier in this account that I don’t mind squatting in front of anybody.
Manage not to get run over in the mist and stop past Lakeland MRT and SARDA to have a chat and give them a donation as insurance in case I die on Red Screes. Which is likely.
Take a total navigational meltdown and wander off the top. Rescue by MRT does seem likely. Look at map, I mean REALLY look at map. Turn out not to be lost, just a little ‘off course’. Back on track. Follow the walls.
Oh a big cairn. Am I top of something? I shouldn’t be here! What the... Am I on Dove Crag? How did I get here!!!??? Oh my god. I’m wet and cold and alone and also lonely and miserable. Sit down and feel very sorry for myself. Eat some real food and take proper stock of the map. On second thoughts, I’m exactly where I thought I was and am just being a fanny. Head off for Ambleside.
Meet lots of Elite runners coming up the hill. Glad I am not them. Take about a year to get to Ambleside. Ask a policewoman where Bilbo’s cafe is (it doesn’t say I can’t in the rules!). No time for coffee. How the *&^% do I get out of Ambleside? Wrong street... take 2. Second time the charm and start the ascent to Loughrigg. Haven’t seen anyone else in A class since Red Screes. Am sure everyone is tucked up in bed at Camp 2 by now. But two other runners catch me up. They reassure me there are still lots of people are behind me. Feel a bit better.
Two climbs left to go. Come on, I can do this! Keep telling myself it’s an easy day tomorrow. Although easy is relative. Up the next hill. Stop for some cheese. Have a cheese high. Next checkpoint; tick. Start singing a lovely song about a pie to the tune of Madonna’s Like A Prayer. It went something like this –
Life is a pie-ie-ie,
Everyone must be pie,
What kind of pie are you,
I’m a pie-ie-ie.
Probably not a number one.
Last climb. Up stickle brick road to stickle barn skarn tarn. Or something like it. Stop to speak to everyone descending for the excuse of a rest. Takes another year to get up. By my calculations it is now 2016. Onwards to the last checkpoint. Start dancing the YMCA. Quick glance back – good no one saw that. It will remain my little secret. Beautiful descent into camp. I CAN SEE TENTS! Pick up the pace. Oh, a tiny incline. Walk again. Make a big effort for the finish; it’s always important to look like one has had an easy day when one finishes these things! Am greeted by Shane, he tells me well done although I have been out for about 7 years. I think I may have won (!) Total time 12h 7m.
Our party camp has been joined by Jo, an Elite runner who has teamed up with Caroline and Elaine. Callum fetches my bag. Tent up, dinner on, dinner eaten, have a poo, announce to camp that it was most unsatisfying, go to bed.
Day 3, 29km, 1800m
Up at 5am for a 0700 start. This was becoming a habit! Callum rejoins me for A class. Only two big climbs today. Our nemesis pass us. Up St Sunday crag. Windy windy! Am reduced to crawling. As is the girl in front. Passed by EVERYONE on the way up. Feel like Mrs Slow who has a degree in slowness from the University of Slow. But pass people on the way back down, and pass our nemesis. Left knee protests. Run past camera man. Hope he makes me look fast. And skinny. Picnic stop and then straight up to Chapel in the Haus. Cue some rapping and a little bit of beatbox. Get spit on my hands. Gross.
See our nemesis behind us! Have nothing to speed up with. Straight to the top of Place Fell. Stop for a picnic. The nemesis arrive. Time for us to go! Lovely running on soft grass. Right knee joins left knee in protestation. Round the side of the loch. One more checkpoint to go! It’s about a million years away but mostly flat. Manage a small jog, imagine I look like an old man who has messed his pants and is hurrying home to get changed. Right hip joins right knee and left knee in protest. And we’re there! I see runners behind us and put on what I think is a sprint but not much more than a glorified shuffle. To the finish. Time 6h 35m.
And that was it. Event over, post race food, a hat for my birthday from the race organisers. Back in the car to ferment on the way home.
Not that results matter but finished 13th out of 15 finishers and 33 starters. I prefer the second statistic. Shane and team; see you again next year!
Get on boat – is bloody freezing so I squash myself in the middle. Lie head on lap to grab some more zzzz’s. Hope the man opposite me does not think I’m leaning in to be closer to him. Get off boat and head to the ladies, which is actually in full view of everyone but with the psychological protection of a bush to cover my, er, bush.
Oh, it’s us to start next. Dibber goes beep. And I’m off! Starting out once again on what must be the best mountain running event ever of the calendar. Ever. Fact. I didn’t even get paid to say any of that.
Day 1 – 40km, 2400m.
A long spectacular journey over fell and through valley. We make friends along the way and I take part in a spot of ‘runner watching’ about the actual athletes. They go so fast that they are clearly not having as good a time as us – picnics, enjoying the view. Our new friends include Peter (whose real name turns out to be John), Map Man (who joins us at the Frodo hill, probably better know to lake-goers as Froswick) and whose actual name is Phillip and who is full of fun facts about sheep and cattle. I think he thought I was being sarcastic when I told him this. I wasn’t. I actually love Countryfile, especially Adam’s farm. We split off our nemesis (two very nice girls whose names I didn’t catch but we played a grand game of leapfrog with) down death gully. Close to the last checkpoint our nemesis catch back up! And then they are gone! The last kilometre or so is on road and I don’t have the inclination to run – hating the tarmac as I do although it is admittedly useful for things like driving. And into the finish. 8h 20m. I feel like a hero.
At camp we make our own wee party zone (there were four of us down from Aberdeen). It is gin o clock, and beer o clock, and eat-as-much-as-you-can-and-when-you’re-full-just-keep-eating o clock. My favourite time of the day! Simon, who we met at the GL3D last year joins the party camp. Happy times. Then 2050 is bedtime, ready for a 5am start tomorrow!
Day 2 – 49km, 2900m.
Sleep like the proverbial log. I feel refreshed and ready to take on the world! Oh, it’s raining. How pish. Wet tent down. Waterproofs on. Get going. First checkpoint somewhere in the mist... but we make it! Dib and keep going. Stop for a pee. Turn the corner and the papparazi are there! Good job I didn’t pee 5 minutes later. I can see the headlines now. GIRL PEES ON MOUNTAIN. CAMERAMAN SEES ALL. Anyway... sorry Mr Cameraman if you did see anything untoward. Down into Trout and back up Nanny Lane. What funny little names things in the Lakes have!
Follow the dykes... just follow the dykes. Oh look a sheep path. Seems to be going in the right direction, follow that instead. Reach the checkpoint with no dramas. But then disaster strikes! My running partner wants to switch to B course. Now, I’m no stranger to running in mountainous terrain by myself but it was so wet and misty and I would have another six checkpoints to see by myself. So be it. Wish each other luck and I’m off to follow more dykes. Stop to put a jacket on in the lee of the wall. Couple come over the wall.
Me to couple: Putting a jacket on, it’s cold.
Couple to me: That was lucky.
Me to couple: (confused expression) Why?
Couple to me: Cold... is that like code for having a pee.
Erm, no, I was just cold. I think we have established earlier in this account that I don’t mind squatting in front of anybody.
Manage not to get run over in the mist and stop past Lakeland MRT and SARDA to have a chat and give them a donation as insurance in case I die on Red Screes. Which is likely.
Take a total navigational meltdown and wander off the top. Rescue by MRT does seem likely. Look at map, I mean REALLY look at map. Turn out not to be lost, just a little ‘off course’. Back on track. Follow the walls.
Oh a big cairn. Am I top of something? I shouldn’t be here! What the... Am I on Dove Crag? How did I get here!!!??? Oh my god. I’m wet and cold and alone and also lonely and miserable. Sit down and feel very sorry for myself. Eat some real food and take proper stock of the map. On second thoughts, I’m exactly where I thought I was and am just being a fanny. Head off for Ambleside.
Meet lots of Elite runners coming up the hill. Glad I am not them. Take about a year to get to Ambleside. Ask a policewoman where Bilbo’s cafe is (it doesn’t say I can’t in the rules!). No time for coffee. How the *&^% do I get out of Ambleside? Wrong street... take 2. Second time the charm and start the ascent to Loughrigg. Haven’t seen anyone else in A class since Red Screes. Am sure everyone is tucked up in bed at Camp 2 by now. But two other runners catch me up. They reassure me there are still lots of people are behind me. Feel a bit better.
Two climbs left to go. Come on, I can do this! Keep telling myself it’s an easy day tomorrow. Although easy is relative. Up the next hill. Stop for some cheese. Have a cheese high. Next checkpoint; tick. Start singing a lovely song about a pie to the tune of Madonna’s Like A Prayer. It went something like this –
Life is a pie-ie-ie,
Everyone must be pie,
What kind of pie are you,
I’m a pie-ie-ie.
Probably not a number one.
Last climb. Up stickle brick road to stickle barn skarn tarn. Or something like it. Stop to speak to everyone descending for the excuse of a rest. Takes another year to get up. By my calculations it is now 2016. Onwards to the last checkpoint. Start dancing the YMCA. Quick glance back – good no one saw that. It will remain my little secret. Beautiful descent into camp. I CAN SEE TENTS! Pick up the pace. Oh, a tiny incline. Walk again. Make a big effort for the finish; it’s always important to look like one has had an easy day when one finishes these things! Am greeted by Shane, he tells me well done although I have been out for about 7 years. I think I may have won (!) Total time 12h 7m.
Our party camp has been joined by Jo, an Elite runner who has teamed up with Caroline and Elaine. Callum fetches my bag. Tent up, dinner on, dinner eaten, have a poo, announce to camp that it was most unsatisfying, go to bed.
Day 3, 29km, 1800m
Up at 5am for a 0700 start. This was becoming a habit! Callum rejoins me for A class. Only two big climbs today. Our nemesis pass us. Up St Sunday crag. Windy windy! Am reduced to crawling. As is the girl in front. Passed by EVERYONE on the way up. Feel like Mrs Slow who has a degree in slowness from the University of Slow. But pass people on the way back down, and pass our nemesis. Left knee protests. Run past camera man. Hope he makes me look fast. And skinny. Picnic stop and then straight up to Chapel in the Haus. Cue some rapping and a little bit of beatbox. Get spit on my hands. Gross.
See our nemesis behind us! Have nothing to speed up with. Straight to the top of Place Fell. Stop for a picnic. The nemesis arrive. Time for us to go! Lovely running on soft grass. Right knee joins left knee in protestation. Round the side of the loch. One more checkpoint to go! It’s about a million years away but mostly flat. Manage a small jog, imagine I look like an old man who has messed his pants and is hurrying home to get changed. Right hip joins right knee and left knee in protest. And we’re there! I see runners behind us and put on what I think is a sprint but not much more than a glorified shuffle. To the finish. Time 6h 35m.
And that was it. Event over, post race food, a hat for my birthday from the race organisers. Back in the car to ferment on the way home.
Not that results matter but finished 13th out of 15 finishers and 33 starters. I prefer the second statistic. Shane and team; see you again next year!