Well, how else would you describe doing the following in just over 30 hours – driving over 500 miles, running 42 miles and not sleeping in between!!!! In fact, evidence of the madness lies in today’s reports of fellow competitor and famous adventurer Sir Ran Fiennes having dozed off while driving home and crashed into 2 cars, on the same road as us a few mins ahead of ourselves on Sat afternoon.
The HPM (or more properly Ultramarathon – 42 miles and 7000 feet ascent) is one of those “challenges” I’ve been aware of via other mad Westies, and been interested in and scared of in equal measures, mainly due to my aversion to running in the dark. I’d managed to avoid getting called up as a reserve in previous years, but this time I decided to just go for it. And boy am I glad I did! Even now on Mon afternoon I’m still on a high from what was an amazing event, with only a few low points amidst numerous bizarre, fun, euphoric and emotional moments.
Friday I afternoon saw Graham Kelly and I driving down to meet Dave Rogers and Gordon Pryde at Abington, where Gordon did a sterling job with all the driving to the Peak District and back. Fish & chips in Stockport fuelled us up be fore arriving in the lovely Peak District village of Edale, where we managed a snooze before getting registered and kit-checked..The village hall was full of grizzled hardy souls and lean mean youngsters (that was us!). Headtorches of all shapes and sizes were on display, as were folks with lots of kit/not a lot of kit/ minimum clothes on/maximum clothes on. Despite the weird start time of 11.30pm, more suitable for bedtime, I was feeling surprisingly good and looking forward to my not-so-little adventure.
However, after a few seconds when Dave had hared off down the road as if in some 10K race, I was feeling less chirpy as I assumed my position for the night/morning to come – bringing up the rear and trying to keep my team-mates’ head torches in sight. Fortunately, they were quick to slow up and let me catch up frequently. The next 6 hours or so of darkness were nowhere near as bad as I had anticipated, as I simply tried to stay positive and just plod on and on through the tracks, trails and snowy high moors. The weather was also kind to us, mild-ish and not windy. We were about 3 and a half hours to the 1st feed stop at Moscar where I felt OK and refuelled a bit, despite the fish supper-induced queasy stomach.
On the next long, dark heathery plod after about 5 hours I was feeling really low and planning to bail out at Snake Pass, which I thought was only an hour or so away. 6 hours would still have been plenty I was telling myself, and I couldn’t envisage managing another 6 hours, and anyway I was holding the guys back. I had planned my wee trip to the village shop for the sat papers, maybe a pint and then cheer the others in. It’s amazing the different justifications you can come up with at 4am on a dark lonely moor for wanting to be elsewhere! However, that nice wee plan was spoiled by the fact that Snake Pass still lay 3 hours away over snow covered peak hags and heather, drat! I had no alternative to keep plodding, and by the time we arrived at Snake Pass, it was daylight, I was feeling better and there were tea & sandwiches & bananas.
There was no way now that I was giving up as there was only about 10/12 miles left and so after a few minutes there our great wee Westies and a Fifer Gang headed off on the Penine Way flagstones for the final stretch over the 2000 feet Kinder plateau. By now I was a man revived, feeling strong and positive and running well. With a little steep snowy climb we were up on the footpath that traversed the edge of the plateau, where we were greeted with a fantastic snowy wonderland with the sun even making an appearance through the atmospheric clouds. I even managed a spell leading the guys as we passed quite a few teams, and we were treated to the superb site of a frozen Kinder Downfall waterfall. Still on the Penine Way we dutifully followed master navigator Dave to the last few checkpoints over Edale Cross and Brown Knoll to the final ridge above Edale where the running was downhill for the last few miles.
I somehow managed to revive yet again at the prospect of some how actually finishing this amazing event, and I felt like I was having an adrenaline-fuelled sprint along to the final check just above the village at Hollins Cross. Weirdly this was where we had been all of 11 hours previously as the 1st check, and it just didn’t feel real that here I was with just less than a mile down the final slope to go. The adrenaline had just about ran out, but I gathered myself and caught the guys at the road for a triumphant finish into the village hall. The last few 100 metres had me literally choking back the tears as waves of euphoria surged through me, as the realisation of what we had accomplished sank in. In the hall we all collapsed into chairs, whilst I quietly sobbed tears of joy, as the sweat poured off me. It seems to be ultras that do this to me as the last time this happened was finishing the 53 mile Highland Fling last year.
Anyway, enough of my blubbing. I have to say a huge thanks to Dave, Graham and Gordon for what was a truly amazing adventure - I’m so so glad I “went for it”. A big thanks also to the organisers and all their helpers out in their wee tents in the dark & cold. For the record we finished in 11 hrs 42 mins, 13th team of 35 finishers with about 40 having started.
Race website
Photos
great read JD, its a brut of a race, you'll have to go back and do it one year when the bogs aren't frozen ;o)
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