I've tended to be a "stay at home boy" when it comes to choosing races to run. The vast majority have been in Scotland but I'm trying to cast my net a little wider and sample some of the classic races south of the border. Consequently, on the 1st of September 2017 I was hovering with my finger on my mouse waiting for entry to open at 9 am. If you want to run this race this is what you have to do!
Now, having successfully entered, I seriously considered not running this event after Transvulcania followed by a rather poor West Highland Way race. Transvulcania was great but combined with the WHW race it all left me a bit mentally drained. We went to France for three weeks following the WHW and I knew that I probably wouldn't get too much training in. I was just getting a bit of that "Have I bitten off more than I can chew?" feeling, aggravated by knowing that 4 weeks after the Lakeland 50 I was going to be doing Deadwater, a six day 235 mile stage race. I also knew though that if I didn't at least "give it a go", I'd very probably regret it. The Lakeland 50 and 100 mile races have a huge following and rave reviews and both fill within minutes of entry opening so in the end, I knew that I just had to go.
Well, I am so glad that I did. The weather was terrible, the course was tough but the whole experience was all the more rewarding for that. It's not just an ultra race, it's a party with some running involved. By "party" I mean that each checkpoint is run by groups of insanely enthusiastic marshals in fancy dress all falling over backwards to help you.
The race starts near Penrith at a place called Dalemain which is at the 59 mile mark of the "100". I say "100" but it's actually 105, which is just one of the many reasons why the full "100" race is tougher than the WHW race.
Race registration was on Friday and I arrived in time to see the LL100 runners setting off. Luckily I went straight to the registration tent after this and avoided the huge queue that quickly formed. Registration is a rather prolonged process where you get weighed, get your "bus pass" wrist band, your "dibber" wrist band and your "weight" wrist band. There's also a full kit check where every last item on the extensive kit list is checked. This included hat, gloves, long sleeve top, full leggings, waterproof jacket and trousers (with taped seams), mobile phone, space blanket, emergency food (not to be eaten except in a real dropping out of the race emergency, first aid kit, blister plasters, head torch, spare batteries, compass, race map and route book (provided), whistle and a plastic cup suitable for hot drinks.
This might sound like a bit of overkill for a race in July where you're never more than 10 miles from a checkpoint, but having experienced the weather that we had on Saturday, I wouldn't quibble with any of it!
Race briefing for the 50 happened at about 9:30 I think the next morning. Arrive early if you want to hear it though. The school gym hall just isn't big enough for everyone and even with a PA system I struggled a bit to hear what was said. Having read all the runners' instructions though it didn't really matter and everything you need to know more or less is contained in it.
Then it was on to the buses for the 1 hour drive to the start.
Dalemain is about 46 miles from the finish for the "100" runners so before you start on the route properly you run a 4 mile loop. After the usual nervous waiting around and multiple nervous widdles we were dibbed into the starting pen and then after a countdown from 10, we were started on our way.
One of the joys of doing a new event is being able to run without expectations (if you so choose). Of course this choice is always open to anyone but I find it hard not to look back on my past times and then judge my present run against those. I had semi-deliberately not looked at previous results, recced the course or even studied the map too intently which gave me the freedom to run how I wanted in the moment, not based on any targets or sense of how I "ought" to be doing it.
Having blown up a bit in the WHW race this year I cautiously kept to the back of the pack and tried to stick to the "run easy to half way and then see what you have left in the tank" plan. This early slow pace was somewhat enforced or encouraged by a recurrence of low back pain (caused by a strain whilst on holiday) that had me fearing the worst and that I might have to DNF at the first checkpoint. Luckily though I think it was just a bit of muscle spasm and it soon faded away completely on the way to the first checkpoint 11 miles along the route at Howtown.
At Howtown I dibbed it, got some coke, scoffed some fruit and doritos and found a large bowl of cold cooked baby new potatoes and salt. Heaven! If I ever have to make up drop bags again, these are definitely going in! Speaking of drop bags, feed stations beat them hands down. Sure, you might not find exactly what you want but there was always variety which helps greatly with the digestion. I just wish more of the Scottish ultras provided them.
After Howton the sky was getting darker and then it started raining lightly. As usual, we were all trying to guess whether it was just a shower or whether it was going to get worse. Stopping to put on waterproofs and then having to take them off again minutes later is always annoying but it was soon clear that the rain was going to get worse, a lot worse in fact.
Coat on, head down and it was a long slog up Fusedale Beck towards High Kop on Wether hill. As we climbed in a slow crocodile the wind built up and it wasn't long before we were head on into horizontal icy rain. It was at this point that I began to wish that I'd donned my over-trousers too but now I was too cold to risk stopping even for a couple of minute to don them without getting much colder. The crocodile was just moving too slowly for me to generate enough body heat so I decided that I just had to go faster. This involved quite a lot of ducking and weaving and if I'm honest, a bit of forcing my way through into the queue at times but I really felt like I was fighting for my survival. Going slow in icy wet windy conditions just wasn't an option.
Fortunately once we reached the top the weather abated and there was a lovely section of easy running across High Kop down towards Hawsewater reservoir. Once we hit the shore at Hawsewater we followed the water down to the second checkpoint at Mardale Head, so named apparently after a village that was flooded by the construction of the reservoir. Bits of it are currently visible as the water level is so low just now.
At Mardale (20 miles) there was hot soup available which was very welcome, the Stilton and broccoli more so than the carrot and corriander (I had both). From the checkpoint the path climbs steeply up to Gatescarth pass but before I had finished my soup, there was a huge clap of thunder followed by the heavens opening again and a wild wind picked up that threatened to uproot the checkpoint tent.
I had been planning to remove my jacket at this checkpoint prior to this but I took the hint from the heavens this time and donned my "I don't want to die!" over-trousers. These are my relatively heavyweight Berghaus lined trousers that I had swapped in my kit to replace my "race legal but relatively useless" Salomon ones.
By now the tent was heaving with new arrivals so I huddled as best I could in the lee side of the tent outside in the lashing rain to put on my trousers. I had removed my pack and bumbag to do this and placed them beside me on the ground. Just as I was finishing getting my trousers on the canvas on the roof on the tent was lifted by the wind sending a deluge of water down over both of them. Ho hum, these things are sent to try us...
Although I felt like I had missed a lot of "proper" training this year, what I had done pre-WHW and on holiday stood me in good stead. Once you've "run" up to Brevent by Chamonix, no Lakeland climb is ever going to feel as intimidating and it didn't seem to take long to get to the top of the pass. The evil weather had blown past almost as quickly as it had arrived so I had to repack my trousers (which I didn't need again) With hindsight, my lightweight ones would probably have done but I've no regrets about taking the heavy ones. Had the weather stayed as bad the whole way they would definitely have made the difference between a DNF and a finish.
Gatescarth pass
After Gatescarth Pass and on to the next checkpoint I had plenty of time to improve my downhilling with poles technique. It wasn't long before I was passing lots of runners (with and without poles) and I realised that very few runners seem to know how to use poles effectively. Such a waste as they can be a fantastic aid. It almost started to feel like a "superpower" that I alone had!Now I'm sure that there are plenty of runners who do uses pole well downhill, but I didn't see any.
(Shamelessly pinched from Rupert Binington's facebook post.)
Checkpoint 11 in Kentmere comes up at 27 miles and I was feeling good. Happy stomach, happy legs = happy ultra runner. I'm sure my legs were being "preserved" by the use of my poles despite my downhill speed. My stomach though was a slightly unexpected bonus. There were two main factors that I think helped. Firstly, I took drugs. A few runners recently on facebook have commented on how acidity regulating drugs have abolished their nausea problems during races. Well, I already had some Ranitidine that I'd bought but scarcely used a year ago for heartburn so I took 150mg pre-race (and another dose 12 hours later). Secondly there was all the "real food" available rather than the usual stuff I rely on. Which of those two factors had the greater influence I can't say but I shall definitely be using Ranitidine and real food again in future ultras.
Can't remember what I had in Kentmere (its all a bit of a blur now) but whatever it was, it was very welcome. ;-) After Kentmere there was a climb over Garburn pass and another long descent where I could gallop past other runners.
It's maybe an indication of just how good I was feeling that I just don't remember much of the course. When you're running well, the miles fly by as you daydream. When your stomach is rebelling and your energy is in your boots, you remember every last obstacle.
Running in to Ambleside (checkpoint 12, 34 miles) was fun with crowds outside pubs cheering all the runners on and when I got to the checkpoint I was surprised to see so many familiar faces from the "Highland Fling extended family" who were running the checkpoint. It was great to see everyone and lots of hugs and kisses were exchanged. I was told I was looking well and indeed I was still feeling good.
(Thank you Noanie for the "loan" of this photo)
I tried not to linger and then it was off to Chapel Stile (40 miles) for checkpoint 13.
I've not mentioned navigation so far which is an integral part of the Lakeland races. Apart from near checkpoints there're no course markers. I had my map, road book and compass but I never needed any of them mostly because I there were nearly always other runners in sight but also because I have maps and the course on my watch which made it easy to check that I was going the right way.
"A miracle of modern technology" you might say, but it does have a bit of a "learning curve" and one thing I hadn't reliably worked out how to do during the race (and indeed, truth be told had rather avoided working out) was how to tell the time with my watch whilst it was in navigation mode. This was actually quite liberating and stopped me fretting about times. As long as I felt good and was continuing to pass runners the time was pretty irrelevant for me.
There's a long flat section for the second half of the route to Chapel Stile. A bit of a shock to the system to have to run on the flat for a bit but it's not too long and I managed it without any walking.
The Chapel Stile CP was manned by yet more wildly enthusiatic (and wildly dressed) marshals and I stopped for some tea, soup and bread. By now it was getting dark (is it that time already?) so it was out with the headtorch.
Only 10 miles to go now and if I have any regrets about not recceing the course now, it would be that it would have been good (not nice, but good) to know just how challenging some of the terrain over this last stretch was. Really quite gnarly and technical in bits and in poor light, just following a stoney path was getting tricky. Although there were still other runners around to follow, I had to rely more on my watch which annoyingly decided that it was getting tired. Fortunatlely I was prepared for this and although I can't wear my watch whilst it's charging, I can still use it. Just a bit inconvenient for the next half hour or so.
Between CP13 and CP 14 there is an unmanned dibbing point (just to keep everyone honest and thwart potential "short-cutters"). We'd all been told about it at the start and I'd been worrying slightly about missing it but it wasn't a problem in the end. Not long afterwards it was the last checkpoint at Tilberthwaite (46.5 miles). The marshals were great (as they were at all the CPs) but I didn't bother them for long. Just over one parkrun to go!
There's a steep climb up steps initially, all marked out with glow sticks that was quite magical in the dark. This was called "Jacob's ladder" named (for the duration of the race maybe) after the son of a runner undergoing gruelling cancer treatment at the moment. There was an opportunity to make a donation at the checkpoint but I just couldn't find my money that I'd carried all the way in the dark! (I've since righted this wrong via Justgiving). You can read about Jacob here if you want.
The race profile doesn't really give any clues to ground conditions and although it was now "just a parkrun to go", it was slow and technical going. In the last kilometer though it's on to dirt roads and time to stretch the legs out for the last time. A runner tried to go past me at this point but that just wasn't gonna happen!
I re-took him and flew through Coniston to the finish line whilst he followed shortly afterwards. I was held briefly at the line which puzzled me until the two of us were escorted into the finishers tent and loudly annouce to much cheering and clapping. It's touches like this that make the Lakeland races so special.
I finished in a time of 12:58:32 and 255th position (out of 756 finishers, 826 starters). The race is a very "inclusive" event with a generous 24 hours allowed for the 50 miles making it within the scope of good walkers.
My position from the first checkpoint to the finish had moved progressively up from 439, 361, 326, 280, 269, 259 to 255th. Just wish I could run every race like this!
Having thought at the prizegiving that I wouldn't consider the LL100, I now can't wait for the 1st of September to get my entry in.
I'm under no illusion that it's just going to be twice as hard as the LL50. It had a 49% DNF rate this year and I know it's going to be a very serious challenge. This time, I really do think I'm going to recce some of the course. ;-)
Others have said it, and now I'll say it. This race is one that every ultra runner should do. Excellently organised, outstandingly supported by hoards of volunteers and through some great scenery. I you do decide to try it, just don't question the kit list. You might be very glad of all of it.
