My alarm went off at 5am, we were due to start from 6:30am. 1.5hrs was enough time for me to procrastinate getting out of my warm sleeping bag, get my porridge rehydrated, do the usual morning routines and get the kit ready. Honestly, I’m not even sure 3 hours would have been enough, I don’t know where the time went, but it wasn’t long before names were being called to the start for the our staggered start times. Quicker runners went first, all, 60 second gap between between us, and runners trickled out onto the course.
Now firstly, I want to try and describe the feelings and emotions at the start, as we lined up. ‘Tick Tock’ by Clean Bandit was playing over the PA (and every-time I now hear this, I’m transported back to that moment.) I was itching to run and the wind, haze and fresh breeze did nothing to dampen the mood. There was an adventure ahead, and I felt like was living in a dream.
This was the dream of my first Ultra X race, and had looked forward to my first start line for a while. This was the moment I’d been looking forward to all year. I was now standing on the start line of my first Ultra X race. Sam counted us down, Three, Two…
Now, just a moment please; have you ever stood there on fireworks night, waiting for that first firework with anticipation, thinking this would be grand, and then it goes off like a cheap Christmas cracker? That latter was my start! This was the moment where I should have confidently cruised forward, arms in the air, however, I wasn’t ready, my Garmin was on the wrong screen…
One… I had panicked and pressed the wrong button, so here I was, frantically fiddling with my watch, walking off the start line – not quite how I pictured this. In actual fact, probably not the worst way to start an Ultra in retrospect.
Once locked in, boom, we were off. Conscious of the distance ahead, I started jogging, following the little red flags that marked our route. It wasn’t long before I went wrong, I continued to follow an nicely paved path and started up some steps towards Mam Tor, and I suddenly noticed there were no red flags, shit, back track to the last red flag I saw and try again.
The nice path was now a memory and we started on some technical terrain. You needed to keep concentrating so you knew where you place your feet, scanning the path in front as you moved along so you knew your foot placing.
The first checkpoint arrived very quickly 5km in, and was right by The Old Nags Head, which is the official the start of the Pennine Way, an Ultra running landmark! The crew informed us that the next CP was 15km away. I checked my supplies and I really hadn’t drunk anything by this point, and this was a good mental reminder that I need to be on top of this.
As I set off, I pulled out a pain-au-chocolate that I grabbed as an extra snack as I left my tent, and started to eat this.
I’m not sure what it is, but I really struggle with solid food on a run, I tend to breath quite a lot with my mouth and whilst jogging along, have to take really small bites of food so I can chew it and swallow. It’s this reason that I have found that liquid fuel works better for me, as I can just drink it! (Mental note, work on nasal breathing techniques for running!)
It wasn’t long before the tone of todays run changed, and our first big climb was before us, as we started the ascent up Jacobs Ladder. I whipped out my poles and started the climb. Still feeling fairly strong and happy at this stage, the weather gradually changed, and it was time to put on the windbreaker. I may have waited a bit too long because by the time I made the decision to stop and put the jacket on, it felt like it was a force 9 gale and my jacket turned into a kite. Currently very glad no one was around to see me flailing around in the wind trying to get my arm into the jacket which was flapping around more erratically than flag in a hurricane.
At the top, the wind was fierce, and blew you sideways. The terrain very technical, you needed to really be paying attention, as even if you think you knew where you were going to place your foot, a sudden gust of wind would change that plan.
As I was approaching CP2, I was still conscious that I needed to get more food in me, although I was drinking my tailwind, I needed to top up with some solid food. I started to munch on a Cliffbar right as I notified the official cameraman hiding in the foliage up ahead. The resulting picture below shows a cold runner, mid meal, still trying to make it look like he is running and enjoying himself. I was enjoying myself, as much as it doesn’t look like it.
Straight out of CP2, I went wrong again, preoccupied with adjusting my pack and starting to get more fluids into me, I missed the turn and cruised on down a path, about 500m in, I realised my mistake and turned around. Another reminder to myself to follow the flags!
The next section of the run got pretty technical, and in one silly moment, I miss placed my foot and took a tumble. In my head, I was an Olympic gymnast who managed a full tuck and roll and landed back on my feat to a rapturous applause… the reality, I was sat on my arse in a muddy puddle laughing at myself, and thinking, ffs, I’m only 25km into this!!
By now, I was settled into my routine of drinking, swapping between my two flasks, one with water, and one with tailwind. Still struggling with solid foods, i resorted to my known and tested process of tailwind and soft cliffblox. I actually felt fine with this and the Kms continue to tick by. The sun was now out and it was a beautiful day. Everywhere you looked, was just a stunning bit of scenery. This was a route that was well planned and just kept rewarding you with views for days, even if you often had to work for that view!
It was at about 35km when knee pain started to kick in again, at the next CP, I spent some time with the osteo who strapped my leg up to try and relieve some of the pressure on the knee. The only problem when we start to support and physically try to compensate is this starts to put additional pressure on other parts of the body. Your mechanics change, and it becomes a game of chase the pain! However, we were good again at this point, strapped up, and in the shadow of the Derwent Dam, set off for the next sector.
The one thing I really like about these events is the frequency of checkpoints. They were roughly positioned every 10km (where the terrain and access would allow). From a psychological point of view, I love this, as I’m always thinking about the distance in terms of just another 10km, you tick this off, get to a check point, have a laugh with the crew, patch yourself up, refuel and away you go again for another exciting chapter!
From here on out, running became more and more of a challenge, not because I was out of energy, just because the pain in my knees just continued to build. There was a sweet spot of pace where I could run and the pain would subside a bit, however, it was a pace that just wouldn’t be sustainable. That said, it was nice to try and stretch the legs a little bit when the terrain would allow.
As we plodded on through the checkpoints, time was getting on, and I was keen to make it back to camp before sunset. This gave me something to chase and I pushed on. There was another runner about 20m ahead of me, who, unknown to him, became my official pacer. That was until I saw him disappear off the marked route down the wrong path. I shouted to try and get his attention but he didn’t hear. As I continued on the marked route up the hill, I then could see him below, standing in a field amongst a heard of sheep. I’m not sure who was more confused, him, or the sheep staring at him in the middle of this field. Waving my poles in the air and shouting, I got his attention and he could then see where he was supposed to be. Knowing he was now ok, I continued on climbing, fully aware that my pacer was now behind me!
As I came down the other side of the hill, finding myself on a road, I looked for the red flags, and my attention was grabbed by two people waving and running down towards me. I don’t think I have ever been so grateful to see two people shouting at me. It was Belle and Graeme, who said they had been tracking me and trying to find me. We ran along together up the road to where Rick had parked. This really picked me up and being told camp was just across the field, I was off!
Usually when you know you are almost at the finish line, you muster up everything you have and empty the tank and push for that line. With multi-stage racing, and conscious of a second day, you continue to manage your pace and keep everything in control, keep fluids going in. Turning the corner and seeing the blue arch of the finish line was a welcome relief. Crossing the line, it wasn’t job done at this point, but fully aware you need to start your recovery process as quickly as possible. I walked straight to my tent, grabbed my recovery shake and began to drink this as I got out of my running gear, into compression clothes and warm gear on top. Then waddled over to the hot water to rehydrated my evening meal.
It rapidly got cold, so I retreated once more into my tent, and under the candlelight of my headtorch, tucked into 1000kcals of Beef Stroganoff and Rice.
Full of food, and core body temperature established, I decided to climb into my sleeping bag. We’ve got another 50km adventure tomorrow.
Running To Feel 
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