I was finding it quite hard to manage my emotions at the start, thinking about Hannah, who is having a difficult time right now. So it was comforting at the start to see lots of familiar faces, and chats helped distract me and feel calmer - thanks all. The main event started at 10:00 but you could start later if you had worked out you could make the checkpoint cut off times OK.
Andrew and I set off at 11:00 with maybe 15 or so others, and it was great to share some miles with Neil and Dave and catch up on months/ years of running adventures. The first few miles passed quickly with friends along tracks and fields in the sunshine, with beautiful views. Through CP1 at Newbrough, and great to see Nigel, and Andrew mixed up his first Complan milkshake, which was a new strategy to try and stop him being sick at 40 miles in. Then on up to join the Hadrian's Wall Path, which we followed for the next 10 miles. Here, the weather took an abrupt deviation from the forecast, and the rain that was to continue for much of the weekend started to blow in. This was my fault. I tempted fate by bringing sunglasses. I apologise in advance that I took hardly any photos, as my phone was wrapped in waterproofs for much of the event and getting it out was an effort far beyond me!
Hadrians Wall is tough. It's up and down like a never ending switch back, on often unforgiving ground, and can be quite inhospitable to the traveller. Which I suppose was the original point of it. It's beautiful though, and I love it, even in the descending gloom. Seeing it snake off into the distance is magic. Soon, I spotted the unmistakably easy gait of my cousin Sammy, easing up the next rise, and towards tent of CP2 at Sewing Shields at the top of it. Andrew and I managed to catch up, and we all arrived together, to be checked in by my Mum and Dad. Family checkpoint!
The next bit was 10 miles to Haltwhistle, mostly along the wall, but then a wonderful section along the Burn Path, a peacefully babbling river running along a gorge, with steep rocky cliffs rising out of rich green vegetation either side. We arrived at CP3 in Haltwhistle, the Centre of Britain. This was difficult for two reasons, 1) it was where we stopped the first night of the recce, so I knew there was a good pub down the road, and it felt like about the right sort of time to be in a pub, and 2) I realised my bag had come open, and I had a panic thinking I had lost some kit and would get disqualified. Thank you Neil for your calm reassurance!
I ate an apricot tart to recover from the panic, and kit intact and bag re-zipped, we set off on the next leg, which was along the River South Tyne, then picking up the path along the old Haltwhistle to Alston branch railway line (on the South Tyne Trail) and over the majestic Lambley viaduct. This was flat and made for easier running and some quicker miles under the belt. The rain was getting heavier. I hadn't felt hungry or eaten much so far, but I suddenly felt quite faint. Goodness. We had been given snack packs at registration, so I cracked out a giant buttery flapjack. There's nothing I love more than a flapjack. It did the trick, and two bourbons (biscuits, not bottles) for good luck, got me to CP4 at Knarsdale, a luxury checkpoint!
CP4 was successful as 1) I passed the kit check, and 2) there was rice pudding and tinned fruit, which I love almost as much as flapjack. It was also run by the Heart of Scotland LDWA group, so there were kilts, shortbread, and Highland cows in abundance, and Andrew seemed right at home.
CP4 was successful as 1) I passed the kit check, and 2) there was rice pudding and tinned fruit, which I love almost as much as flapjack. It was also run by the Heart of Scotland LDWA group, so there were kilts, shortbread, and Highland cows in abundance, and Andrew seemed right at home.
Restored! So it was back to the railway line, for a good few more miles all the way to Alston (the highest market town in England), and passing into Cumbria.
At Alston we left the railway and picked up the Pennine Way, and grouped up with some others for some good miles over fields and by the river. Then, disaster struck! The Complan Strategy didn't work, and Andrew's 40 mile sickness hit, almost exactly to the mile. Fortunately, we were coming right up to CP5 at Garrigill, and so he was able to rest here for around 1.5 hours, and then carry on to complete the run. So proud of him! Completing a run is much more impressive when obstacles have to be faced, compared to when the going is smooth.
At Alston we left the railway and picked up the Pennine Way, and grouped up with some others for some good miles over fields and by the river. Then, disaster struck! The Complan Strategy didn't work, and Andrew's 40 mile sickness hit, almost exactly to the mile. Fortunately, we were coming right up to CP5 at Garrigill, and so he was able to rest here for around 1.5 hours, and then carry on to complete the run. So proud of him! Completing a run is much more impressive when obstacles have to be faced, compared to when the going is smooth.
So, we parted company at Garrigill, which is when the route got tougher, the next 6 miles being all uphill to reach Greg's Hut, on the way to the top of Cross Fell. The weather initially wasn't too bad, but about half way up it really turned. The wind (40 miles per hour), rain, and mist all arrived, typically at the exact same time that darkness fell. The path went on and on, up and up..... The higher we went the worse the weather got, which makes sense, being on the fells and all, but I thought I'd just mention how bad the weather was, again. Did I say? The weather was dreadful. Absolutely, dreadful....
Eventually, a bright light vaguely started flashing out of the darkness, fuzzy in the mist, and accompanied by a fathomless buzzing noise. I thought for a few moments that I'd arrived at the entrance to hell, and was about to enter into the abyss, but another few steps on, and the light came into focus. It was a floodlight hooked up to a generator outside Greg's Hut, CP6.
Greg's Hut! In terrible weather! I had an overwhelming sense of deja vu. Seem to be spending a lot of time in this place in bad weather lately. Inside it was busy. We were being grouped together to get over the next bit over the fells. I was lucky that Dave and John, who I'd met earlier on, let me tag along with them, and I am grateful to them for their company and calmness in pretty awful conditions. The next 10 miles took about 3.5 hours, and were the hardest 3.5 hours of any run I've done, ever. This was the part of the route of been dreading most, as I knew I'd be up here in the dark. I'm not naturally a good night runner. I get disoriented, panicked easily, etc. So I'd tried to prepare for it. Studied the map, got the compass bearings in my head etc. The route across the top of the Cross Fell, Little Dunn Fell and Great Dunn Fell looked straightforward in theory. It was along the Pennine Way, a national trail, and was on a couple of main compass bearings, so I thought if I stuck tight to these, I couldn't go far wrong. I was wrong, obviously, otherwise I wouldn't have mentioned it or bored you with it at great length. The combination of dark, mist and driving rain (the weather was awful, did I say?) meant visibility was only a couple of metres, then just walls of white all around. It's so disorientating. What seems an obvious path in daylight, or even a clear night, just disappears. Rocks become stones, become grass, and the path is so hard to stay on. There were some glow sticks on the path, that the marshalls had kindly put out to guide the way. They would have been easy to spot in good weather, but were actually adding to the confusion for me in the conditions. I suppose, the compass bearing is the overall direction, but no path is completely straight, so someone would often spot a glow stick that seemed a bit off the bearing, shout out, we'd reach it, then get back on the bearing again, and repeat. Eventually, we'd gone off the bearing and then back on it again, but no more glow sticks appeared after several minutes. I knew we'd only meant to be on this bearing for 1km, but it was impossible to tell how far we'd come with all the wiggling, and I don't have a GPS or tracking watch. I was worried we'd missed the turn, and if we kept going, we'd come off the wrong side of Cross Fell. Fortunately, Dave had a GPS that was a bit on the brink but worked enough, and we ran into a couple who also were using GPS, and another couple of runners who I'd met earlier in the day. Busy up here, despite the weather (did I mention, it was awful). And then out of the murk, my headtorch caught a paving stone, which marked the track we were looking for. A thousand hurrahs! While we're on Cross Fell, and I've being negative, this is a good place to slot in a fact! In ancient times it was known as Fiends Fell, the haunt of evil spirits. In a generous act of rebranding, St Augustine of Canterbury blessed it, so it became known as 'Cross Fell' in the Christian tradition, but it didn't last long, and went back to being known as the 'angry' form of 'cross' again. There's also a Grumperly Fell nearby, so I think we all get the hint.
The rest of the route over the top Little Dunn Fell and Great Dunn Fell was a bit easier, which gave me time to really beat myself up about my navigational failings, which lead to other failings etc etc.... I was really angry with myself. Why couldn't I manage this, even with help from the marshals putting up glow sticks? I wasn't good enough to be up here in those conditions. I shouldn't even be in the event. How had I even thought I could finish?? It's funny, you'd think being on top of the fells would be the least claustrophobic place in the world, but the poor visibility meant it was like being trapped in a tiny white walled square inside your head, with no escape. I found it really hard to fight the rising panic and keep my thoughts in check. It was awful! And so cold! Did I say, the weather was awful?
But, it reminded me (afterwards, obviously not at the time, when I was having a complete breakdown) that even in the darkest of times, there is always hope. There are always options to try, we can always choose to help each other, and there is always a way out of the darkness....
So, eventually, we made it to the access road down off the fells. I have never been so glad to see tarmac. Never. We'd slowed down a lot trying to navigate, and I was pretty cold, but talking to Dave and John about the Hundreds they've done (they've both done loads, the legends) was a welcome distraction, and we got moving faster down the hill. We reached the safety check, and it finally felt that we'd survived the fells.
On the way down to Dufton my friend Alan caught up, and I ended up running the rest of the hundred with him - thank you Alan for your company and encouragement!
Dufton was the breakfast stop, CP7. I changed into some dry clothes and socks, had 2 X Weetabix with hot milk and sugar, and a tea. It was 02.30 by the time we left, Alan, me, and Mike. I felt much more confident for the remainder of the route, even the long climb up to High Cup Nick, and the moor section that was coming up next.
Dufton was the breakfast stop, CP7. I changed into some dry clothes and socks, had 2 X Weetabix with hot milk and sugar, and a tea. It was 02.30 by the time we left, Alan, me, and Mike. I felt much more confident for the remainder of the route, even the long climb up to High Cup Nick, and the moor section that was coming up next.
The dawn started to break at the top of High Cup Nick, as we crossed Maize Beck. I made a special effort to locate my phone wrapped in all it's plastic deep in a pocket. I wanted to capture the moment of the dawn that, if I'm being completely honest, at the top of Cross Fell, I had resigned myself to the fact that I wouldn't survive to see. Plus, even if we're not being melodramatic, there is something magical about running through the night, and seeing the first hints of light touch the dark sky. I failed to capture any of this, of course, but I took the picture, so I'm putting it in here anyway.
CP8 was in a barn, at Birkdale, the highest inhabited farm in Britain. I had my first cup of sugary tea on a run, which turned out to be a new trick I was glad to learn of. I'm not sure why it's not occurred to me before. Heat, caffeine and sugar ..a triple hit!
On a tea high (a new take on High Tea), we set off from Birkdale to Watersmeeting. This section is meant to be easier - shorter and flatter, but I'd really struggled with it on the recee, and I did again today. There is a point on overnight things when your body realises you're not meant to be awake still, and I think I reached it then. It's also quite bleak up on the roads across the moors in the early morning gloom. I had got over the romantic ideas of a beautiful sunrise highlighting the desolate moors with tinges of pink and purple whilst I skipped over the moorland full of promise of a new day, as it was now light enough to realise that the weather was just as awful as yesterday, and no sun was going to put in an appearance anytime soon. The moors remained in gloom, as we passed the border into Durham, under the Cow Green Reservoir dam. But, CP9 at Watersmeeting eventually materialised, and a cup of soup, bread and butter, and another tea, whilst sat in a deck chair in a barn, soon cheered things up. Plus, there was a portaloo with fairy lights, which was a highlight, because although all this tea seemed to be keeping me awake, I also really needed to pee. A lot.
After the fairy light pee, it was back up into high moorland, and down again to Cowshill. I was starting to feel better. The Cowshill checkpoint (CP10) was manned by the Wales LDWA group, so there were plenty of people dressed as daffodils, and good cheer. There was also apple pie and custard, and coffee. I could have stayed all day to be honest, but it was time to make tracks. The next section was pretty, along a river, with thousands of tiny purple flowers lining the path. Up past a quarry, then down to a pine plantation. The trees around one side had blown over, and there were pools of dark water where the roots had torn from the ground. The wind was wailing through the trees and rippling the waters. The place was called Killhope. And nearby was Burnhope, just to make sure all hope was extinguished. Alan and I beat a hasty retreat before a tree could fall, and knock all hope out of us.
It was up to the moor, then down to Allenheads for CP11, back in Northumberland. A nice surprise to see my Mum and Dad! Two slices of pizza and a tea, followed by a walk out of the village with my parents. On the recce, we did all of the remaining three sections of the route in one day, and I knew most of the hills had been done now, and there was only 18 miles left. For some reason I was starting to feel good again. Tired and sore legs, but I'm used to these feelings. I had no foot problems, which I just couldn't believe. I'd taken a couple of painkillers twice for a mild headache, but they'd seemed to work. I'd had no stomach problems, and had managed to take on board food and fluid better in the second half than the first. None of this made any sense to me at all, and I thought maybe I was delusional after all, but I decided it was best just to accept it, and enjoy it whilst it lasted.
We followed quiet roads and tracks along the River East Allen, to Allendale Town, and the miles passed quickly chatting away with Alan. We followed part of the Isaac's Tea Trail for a short while. Isaac Holden, a character of bygone times, was a travelling tea seller and fundraiser, and he walked these routes, selling his teas. If there was ever a ghost I would like to meet, it would be he (I bet you wouldn't find his spirit up Cross Fell). I don't think I've drunk enough tea on this run. But fortunately, it was soon time for CP12, which was run by the Devon and Cornwall group, who always have fab food, and today they had custard, jelly and peaches. Plus a final cup of tea, in case Isaac was watching, and we had a short pit stop before tackling the last moorland. This was a short section, on narrow paths through heather, up to CP13 in a barn at Greenridge Farm for a quick top up of water and sweets and some encouragement from the ever energetic Dave Findel-Hawkins and friends. The rain had eased off, and what I believe is known as the sun made an appearance for the final leg of the journey. It felt like so long since I'd seen it. A couple of miles through the woods, up to Hexham racecourse perched high above the town, and then Alan and I picked up the pace for a long, and slightly painful, steep descent to the finish.
The finish! Oh, wow!
Where it was time to relax with friends and family, and welcome back others as they completed their journey. I loved this part! I am so proud of everyone I know who took part, and everyone I didn't know too, it's just magic seeing people achieve something like this. A huge huge well done to all of my friends and family, and everyone I met along the journey, who did it, I am so proud!
I am so happy that I completed the event, the 'H' of my Hannah Challenge is accomplished! Hannah was in my thoughts every step of the way, and this is truly for her. Love you lots! Thank you so much everyone who has donated, your generosity is immense! Here is the link to my page.
I found this Hundred much tougher than my previous two, in terms of the route and the conditions. But I am pleased that I felt so much better physically and mentally (well, for most of it - but I have barred Cross Fell from my memories, so my thoughts on this part of the run no longer count), and I felt I put some demons to rest. I felt strong (if a bit tired) towards the end, not broken as I have before, and I'm happy to have got myself to this place. I finished in 28 hours and 41 minutes, which is 1 hour 20 faster than my previous best time on a hundred. This wasn't about a time, of course, but I am happy with it, none the less.
Big thank you to the LDWA, especially the Northumbria Group, for organizing this event. All LDWA events including The Hundred are unbelievably good value. You can count on the route being stunning, the hospitality and support unrivaled, and all of this done by people volunteering their time and energy. The volunteers at every check point were out of this world, and thank you so much to every single one for their kindness, humour, and care towards us. It's really something special things like this; there is such negativity in the world, to come to something like this where everyone is so positive and supportive to each other is extraordinary. Many thanks for a wonderful weekend.
And so, to the "ANNAH" of the challenge! A and N are in just over a week, where I will be running two 29 mile runs in one day (one in the morning, one in the evening) down back at my favourite bit of towpath, with Phoenix Running......
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