Montane Summer Spine Challenger South

Non-stop along the Pennine Way from Edale to Hardraw

About the race:

The Montane Summer Spine Challenger South is a non-stop, 108 mile race with around 15,500 ft of ascent, along the Pennine Way from Edale to Hardraw (just north of Hawes). The non-stop nature means that the clock does not stop until you reach the finish, so any breaks taken count towards your total time. There is also a Spine Sprint (46 miles to Hebden Bridge), a Spine Challenger North (160 miles from Hardraw to Kirk Yetholm) and of course the full Spine Race (268 miles, Edale to Kirk Yetholm).  The summer races are always held in June, whilst the original winter version takes place every January.

The overall time allowed for the Spine Challenger South is 60 hours. This may seem generous, and it is certainly possible to fast hike this event rather than run. The difficulty level is provided for amply by the gnarly terrain, the English weather and the self-sufficient nature of the event. The fact that the female course record is 30 hours tells you that this is not a fast 108 miles for anyone, and I tentatively expected to take around 45 hours.  Like all races in the Spine series this event is unsupported, this means there is absolutely no private outside support or crewing allowed. Runners may however purchase food and drink from shops, pubs, cafes and track-side tuck shops that farmers have put in place for Spiners and Pennine Way walkers.  Any outside support offered has to be available to all participants. It is not permitted to check into a hotel to sleep. On the Challenger South there is just one main checkpoint, 46 miles into the race at Hebden Hey Scout Centre just beyond Hebden Bridge, where you have access to your drop bag and hot food is available, as well as showers. Runners can sleep here if they wish with a maximum total checkpoint stay of six hours. In addition there is a non-official pop-up support point (in tents) at Cowling (61 miles) run by the Craven Energy Triathlon club, where runners can also obtain hot drinks and snacks and are allowed to stay for 30 minutes. There is a further official monitoring checkpoint at Malham Tarn (83 miles) where again runners can get hot drinks, and there are race medics available, the maximum stay is also only 30 minutes. If you wish to sleep other than at Hebden Hey you need to bivouac out somewhere. A bivvy bag is part of the mandatory kit. There are mobile Spine Safety Teams (SST) along the course which monitor the runners’ wellbeing and they are available for help and advice if required of course. They may sometimes carry water, but not enough to guarantee being able to top-up every runner’s water supply. Planning where to obtain drinking water and how much to carry is one of the essential elements of your preparation, especially during warm conditions (which we didn’t have in the end).

The day before:

This would be my first Spine event as a participant, though having volunteered last January on the SST on the northern part of the Pennine Way I had already gained some experience of the Spine from the inside. I had managed to recce the entire Challenger South course during the spring. I travelled to the race by train on Friday afternoon (June 14), once I changed onto the train to Edale at Sheffield I noticed several other Spiners, recognisable by large drop bags. Once arrived we went through kit check and registration. The Spine mandatory kit requirements are notoriously extensive and expensive (though more so in winter than in summer) and strict, overseen by the kit list legend Lindley Chambers, whom I had the pleasure of meeting in the flesh now. Once your kit was checked and found to be satisfactory you received a stamp on your hand which is an image of Lindley. We then listened to the race briefing which was a rolling PowerPoint presentation delivered by race director Kevin McCann.

I stayed in the Edale YHA where I had been lucky enough to book a single room. The hostel was obviously full of Spiners. The staff was friendly, the evening meal delicious. I had a massive pizza that I didn’t think I would be able to finish but did, and then I had a chocolate brownie sundae for dessert. I reckoned I would run it off over the next few days! All of that was followed by a good night’s sleep. I got up just before 5 to get race ready,  had my breakfast which I had brought with me from home, handed in my drop bag and was ready to be shuttled back to Edale Village Hall by 6:15 for tracker fitting. We then waited for the 8:00 start. I met up with Linda with whom I had worked on the SST in winter and who was doing the race too. Thankfully it was sunny and whilst not exactly warm, pleasant enough to be standing around with the other runners. There was the usual queueing for the toilet which passed some time. On the start line we were given a last-minute warning that this nice weather was not forecast to last, rain was coming, and to ‘be bothered’, i.e. be bothered to put your waterproofs/extra layers/gloves on, or tend to your feet or your nutrition as required, and in good time.

Edale to Torside – 15 miles

We set off at 8:00 am in lovely sunshine and made our way through Edale to the start of the Pennine Way. I made sure to position myself towards the back of the field. Soon enough Jacob’s Ladder appeared and with it the climb onto the Kinder Plateau. Once on the plateau there are several miles of flattish terrain, however, whilst there is no ascent or descent to speak of there are an awful lot of rocks in the way and for someone like me with two left feet this is not really runnable. I did get frustrated by my slow progress, but I knew that trying to run tends to not end well (i.e. tripping up). After descending off the plateau I was relieved to be finally running for a couple of miles over the flagstones to the Snake Pass. A runner slightly ahead of me misplaced a foot just next to a slab and went down up to his thigh into the adjoining bog. Such a misstep at running speed is not good and he looked very shaken, thankfully there was an SST team at the Snake Pass within a few hundred meters who could look after him. His race sadly ended there as he had twisted his knee badly by the fall. I found out later that there were several other runners with injuries due to stepping on a missing or tilting slab in various locations, for instance gashes leading to cellulitis. Cautious as ever I always used my poles to prod the water ahead of me whenever slabs had become invisible, which was quite often.

We crossed the road (A57) and headed up to Bleaklow. After a little bit more running on a good path we were on a waterlogged soggy bog/mud/rocks combo for several miles and all I could do was trudge. By now the rain had started and it looked to be here to stay for a while, so I put my waterproof jacket on and my sunglasses away. The temperature had dropped quite a bit too as there was a stiff breeze on the top.  At times I was regretting that I had not put my overtrousers and gloves on but it was just about manageable. I wasn’t enjoying this section, but that came as no surprise, as I hadn’t liked it either when I reccied it. I consoled myself with the knowledge that assuming I never do the full Spine (and I doubt I ever will) then I never ever need to set foot here again! At some point I must have taken a fork away from the path along Clough Edge as I found myself just 50 meters or so higher on the hill side. This looked like a path but the peat bogs were huge and virtually impossible to negotiate. Another runner, Ellie, had followed me there and had to help pull me out at one point, I almost lost both my shoes there which would not have been good at all. I said to Ellie that this definitely wasn’t right, I had reccied it and the path had not been like this at all. I cut down the hillside through the heather and regained the right path, phew. A silly error on my part which annoyed me. Eventually we descended down to Torside Reservoir, it had taken me around 5 hours, the same amount of time as on the recce. I felt relief to leave this section behind me. Just to clarify the ‘we’, I wasn’t running with anyone in particular (and I didn’t until the very last section of the race) but obviously you settle into a part of the field with others of a similar pace so you keep meeting the same runners, sometimes sharing a few miles and having a chat.

Torside to the M62 – 17 miles

After passing Torside we climbed up the rocky path above Crowden Great Brook towards Black Hill. It was still raining intermittently. Two runners I kept changing places with wore matching large orange rain ponchos which made them look like giant walking traffic cones. My mind clung on to these fun little details.  As before it was very soggy underfoot, there was an ‘interesting’ stream crossing where this time I could lend a helping hand to Ellie. Eventually the path changed to flagstones which made the going much easier. Many runners do not like this section but to me it was OK. I almost always prefer ascending over descending! No fear of falling as long as I am going up. After Black Hill the rain stopped and a hint of sunshine appeared, so things were definitely looking brighter. I descended steeply down the rocky steps to Dean Clough and back up to the road (A635) at Wessenden Head. If I might have found that bit hard my effort was totally put into perspective by witnessing a full Mountain Rescue Team coming the other way carrying heavy bags and equipment, on their way to a Spine casualty, I believe someone had broken their leg. There was a burger van in the lay-by where I bought a can of coke. The van flew a Dutch flag which made me feel right at home, but when I asked the owners if they were Dutch it turned out this had been the only flag they could get with the word ‘open’ printed on the white section in the middle. After crossing the road I joined the good track along Wessenden Moor and its reservoirs (this is just south of Marsden), followed by a steep down and up and then reasonable paths across the moors via Standedge and White Hill to Nicky’s food bar in the shipping container on the A672, just before the M62 crossing. On my ‘schedule’ I had Nicky’s down as 32 miles, but on my watch it took 34 miles to get there (not sure if Garmin and the satellites were a bit out, eventually my total distance covered would be almost 114 miles whereas it should only be 108). As this would be my first planned brief stop I was very much looking forward to it. Before I got there a couple of the front runners in the Spine Sprint passed me, running strongly, and fast! It felt like they had come from another planet, considering they had set off from Edale at 12, a whole 4 hours after me. I looked on in awe at their running form, they seemed to float over the terrain.

M62 to Hebden Hey (CP1) – 14 miles

I had seen Nicky’s food bar from the outside on my recce but at that time it had been closed, so this was my first proper visit to this iconic stop on the Spine races. It was busy and because it was cold people were all wanting to sit inside. Thankfully Simon, whom I had spent time with at the Edale YHA, was just leaving and gave me his seat. Simon was hiking rather than putting any running miles in but was still ahead of me. OK he had longer legs and was significantly younger than I am, but it does show that for relatively steady runners like me there is actually not that much time advantage to be gained by running on events with this kind of tricky terrain. It was 7 pm now.  The menu had been circulated in advance on Facebook and I had been interested in the halloumi burger, but when it came to it I didn’t fancy too much food and decided to stay away from strong flavours. I just bought a hot chocolate which was a real treat. I ate a boiled egg and a sandwich which I had brought from home, soft bread with the crusts cut off with Biscoff spread. After a day in my pack it had almost melted into something no longer recognisable as a sandwich but it was delicious and most importantly easy to get down.

A note on nutrition:

Having had some issues with nausea and vomiting on my last two long events (the Northern Traverse and my subsequent solo trip to cover the unfinished section of the NT) I reviewed my nutrition strategy. I came to the tentative conclusion that I might have been trying to eat too much, in particular too many carbohydrates for my stomach to be able to deal with, even at the low speeds I tend to move at. And also that, much as I like real food, it might help to rely more on specialist sports nutrition in easily digestible formats, and cut back on real food. I decided to give Precision Fuel and Hydration a go as the basis of my plan. I used all their information from the website, asked the algorithm to create a fuelling plan, and as a result separated out my hydration from my nutrition, i.e. added electrolytes only to my water rather than carbohydrates as well, which was a new approach for me. I also pre-hydrated the evening before and again on the morning of the race with a stronger electrolyte solution. I then used their energy chews and energy gels as the basis of my carb intake, and supplemented this with bland food here and there, like banana, yoghurt, a couple of boiled eggs and potato. Having always had a real horror of gels I was hugely impressed by the PF&H gel pouches. Nice taste, gives immediate energy, and packaged so that you don’t get sticky hands. Honestly, they don’t pay me to say any of this, and of course other brands are available. But currently this is working for me. I had no nausea whatsoever during the entire event and had plenty of energy. If only my legs had been similarly unproblematic I might have flown round a bit faster…..

Within 30 minutes I was on my way again. I crossed the M62 via the footbridge and was on Blackstone Edge soon enough, in fact it took me by surprise as it looked so totally different from the recce. On a grim day in February my friend Gill and I had tried to do the section from Marsden to Hebden Bridge and our morale lost the battle with the howling gale and horizontal rain on the moors and we called it a day just after coming off Blackstone Edge. I remember rarely having been so pleased to see a road and a pub. We took shelter and drank tea in the White House, then walked down to the station in Littleborough to catch the train home. Then I was so cold despite having changed into dry layers that I clung to the ticket machine to get a tiny bit of warmth from it whilst we waited for the train. Now it was a pleasant evening, a bit chilly but sunny and the black rocks and the moor looked very benign. On the descent towards the road (A58) and the White House I noticed however that all was not well with the outside of my knees. I identified this to be a problem with my IT bands even though I had never had this before. It would become an increasingly painful issue during the rest of the race and made descending tricky. I was overtaken here by my friend Stephen Hurren, an amazing runner who was doing the Sprint today, to then travel back to Edale from Hebden Bridge and attempt to do the full Spine race, which was to start the next morning (Sunday) at 8 am. No one had ever succeeded in doing this crazy double, but this time there were two runners giving it a go, Bobby Cullen being the other one. Whilst Bobby would sadly DNF on the full Spine, Stephen was to succeed and finish this incredible feat of endurance in 6^th place in 114 hours.  Here he was in good spirits, and we had a brief chat before he resumed his pace again and sped off whilst I hobbled onwards.

After the White House Pub the Pennine Way follows a very good and level track for a few miles along several reservoirs, towards Stoodley Pike.

This is lovely runnable terrain, and I did indeed manage to run most of it with the odd walk break in between, even overtaking a few people. There was a glorious sunset and I really enjoyed this section. I was overtaken in turn by Debbie Martin-Consani, 2022 Winter Spine winner, who was doing the Sprint today. I had been expecting her to appear so kept looking behind me (not wanting to get in the way, as the path would be changing to single track flagstones imminently) and eventually I saw her distinctive pony tail bobbing up and down in the distance. As she passed me I said ‘well done Debbie, you don’t know me but I know you of course as you’re famous’. She actually stopped and gave me a big hug and asked my name. I told her we had been messaging on Instagram about the ultra-runners’ lean (she had a significant lean when she won the Spine (interview here). ‘Oh yes’ she said, ‘and I always worry about it now’. ‘So do I’ I said. Little did I know I would get it again soon enough! She disappeared into the distance and I carried on at my slower pace enjoying the sunset and the distinctive shape of Stoodley Pike now coming nearer. Once at the monument I stopped to put my head torch on. It was still light but I like to stop early and have it ready on my head, rather than having to faff in the half-dark, especially as I knew I would be under the trees of Callis Wood soon.

It’s a fair old descent from Stoodley Pike to the bottom of the valley in Hebden Bridge. I met two SST members at the bottom of the wood out for a walk to check up on us runners coming down the hill, always nice to see them. They kindly reminded me to take care crossing the road and to turn left at the post box for the steep climb up the other side. It would be easy to miss the turn if you had not done the course before. The Pennine Way continues here on tiny cobbled and overgrown paths full of flowers, in between quaint cottages. I had really liked this on my recce as it had been a lovely sunny day. Now it was dark and more challenging, quite slippery at times, but I still enjoyed it, I was glad I knew the route though. Here I caught up with two male runners who were on the MRT Challenger South (basically the same race but for active members of Mountain Rescue Teams), I had been with one of them earlier in the race too, in companionable silence, then lost him when I stopped at Nicky’s food bar and he didn’t. We went through the fields together for a few miles with me in the middle, I felt comfortable in this ‘MRT sandwich’ as I called it in my head. There were a couple of short nasty descents on this section and with the paths so overgrown, in the dark, it was difficult to see where you were putting your feet. There were some big rocks hiding under the bracken. A mile or so on the road and then the stony slippery 400 ft descent to the checkpoint at the Hebden Hey Scout Centre. One of the checkpoint volunteers was near the bottom of the path to guide me in. It was midnight.

Hebden Hey to Gargrave – 26 miles

The checkpoint was busy. I knew it would be, as it’s ‘only’ 46 miles into the race people are still relatively bunched up, and unless you are right at the front or back of the race you are going to be there with a lot of other runners. The volunteers were fabulous and couldn’t do enough for you, I was waited on hand and foot. Still, I found it stressful as space was very limited. It is quite challenging to do your race admin efficiently when it is impossible to spread yourself out. I knew I didn’t want to shower or sleep and was trying to focus on getting myself turned round reasonably quickly.  I was given sugary tea, I put my my electrical equipment on charge, took my gaiters, shoes and socks off (this is really quite hard without getting mud all over your other stuff), dried my feet and put my slippers on. I then went across the courtyard to the ‘dining room’ where I had a baked potato with cheese (I decided to stick with the bland stuff), and more tea. Yes, please, two sugars. Races are the only time I take sugar in my tea! I used the toilets and brushed my teeth. Back to the main room, still heaving with people and bags. I sought advice from the medics with reference to my IT bands. Voltarol gel was applied, with the suggestion I could buy my own tube in Gargrave (note to self, carry some in kit next time), otherwise there wasn’t much they could do. Taping wouldn’t help, so just keep popping the paracetamol. Still, it was nice that the medic remembered me from the Northern Traverse where she had seen me after my premature race finish due to the lean. I put a layer of trusted Palmer’s® Cocoa Butter on my feet, a pair of dry socks, and then my muddy soggy shoes had to go back on. I packed everything up, passed the kit check and was ready to leave at 01:15. A volunteer actually walks out with you, carrying your drop bag to the van (that bag would be going straight to the finish now) and points you in the right direction of the path. As I said, the volunteers were awesome. I climbed back up. I briefly stopped at the top to double check the contents of my pack, I suddenly had this little panic in my head wondering if I had really packed my second head torch battery and spare head torch. What if I had put them in my drop bag by mistake with the other electrical items? Such an error would be potentially race-ending as the drop bag was going to the finish now. It felt similar to driving off on holiday and turning round at the end of the road, drive back, to check once more that you have locked the back door and closed the bathroom window. It’s invariably OK. Still, I had to double check. All good, everything was there in my pack, phew. I regained the road, turning right after about a mile to rejoin the Pennine Way. Next stop to aim for: the pop-up support point at Cowling, run by the Craven Energy Tri Club. This is ‘only’ 15 miles. When you are a runner 15 miles doesn’t sound like a lot. By now however I was reduced to hiking due to my IT bands being really quite bothersome. The terrain was also very boggy underfoot, though there were sections that would have been runnable if my legs had cooperated. I made my way across Heptonstall Moor and along the Walshaw Reservoirs towards Top Withens in Brontë Country. It was dark of course when I set off, and I was really longing for the daylight to appear. It seemed to take a long time, as it was quite overcast. It was quite chilly too. As I recall I felt a little bit low here. I found myself singing some songs from my childhood. Good thing I was on my own as it was desperately out of tune!

I think on this section I started to talk in my head, well out loud actually, to Jack Scott, winner of the 2024 Winter Spine in an astounding record breaking 72 hours. Even before that win he had become one of my big heroes, not so much for his elite-level performances but for his approach to running and to life. The latter can be applicable to all of us, regardless of our athletic ability. This interview with Samuel Hill @ultrarunning_sam from January 2023, recorded even before Jack’s 2^nd place finish in the 2023 race, really drew me in. There is a short bit (31:15 in) which stuck with me: ‘be good at dealing with time, don’t look at time as a restriction, look at time as a blessing and as an opportunity, you are going to be out for 100, 120, 130 hours [Jack was talking about the full Spine here]…….that’s 100 hours for things to go well, not for things to be horrible…..we have 100 hours to be ourselves…..stay composed, stay in control.’ Then there was the very insightful interview by Will Roberts @willbaldlygo after the 2024 win. A focus on learning and growing during a race. Make a mistake, learn, move on.

So for the second part of my race, after the checkpoint all the way to the finish, at times when the going got tough, which it did quite a few times, I thought ‘what would Jack do here’ and I would be talking to him. Crazy maybe, but it helped me. I would focus on seeing my time out on the course as a blessing, and try to drink in all the views, the sounds of the birds, the experiences. I would tell myself not to think about how much further it was, how many more miles, how many more hours, but to relish the opportunity of moving myself, on my own two feet, along this route, over the moors, through the bogs, over the hills, however slowly I was going now.

It was light enough to remove my head torch when I got to Top Withens. I sat down on the bench there briefly, it was 4 am. I also put my overtrousers, my windproof (I was already wearing a midlayer and my waterproof) and my mittens on as I was too cold, despite it not raining. Onwards, down to Ponden Reservoir where the sunrise greeted me.

Up the hill at the other side, to Cragg Bottom and the house with the peacocks which I had seen on my recce. I think the birds were still asleep.

Now there was an SST team parked here to greet me instead, checking that I was OK. On the next gate there was a sign indicating that the Craven Energy support point was 3.2 miles ahead. It turned out to be an incredibly long parkrun and a bit! Ickornshaw Moor truly showing itself at its boggy worst. I reached the longed for tents at about 7 am. It had taken me almost 6 hours to cover 15 miles! It felt almost embarrassingly slow, but shortly afterwards several other runners arrived who had taken a similar amount of time. Lovely to see my Punk Panther friend Eddie Arthur here who was volunteering on the support point. There is a maximum stay here of 30 minutes. I sat in a chair wrapped in a blanket, had a cup of tea and some fried mushrooms which were nice. It was a mushroom and veggie sausage burger but I didn’t fancy the bread or the sausage. As my legs hurt so much I also decided to risk co-codamol instead of paracetamol with caffeine. I had bought some in advance, the 8mg/500mg which is the only strength you can get over the counter. I was a bit worried what it might do to me on top of sleep deprivation, but needs must. I decided if I was going to take it here would be the best place, in case it didn’t agree with me. Initially it hit me like a ton of bricks and I could feel my head spinning as if I had had a drink, but the dizziness settled down quickly and I felt OK. I The 30 minutes were up pretty quickly and I went on.

The next section to Gargrave, around 12 miles, was a little easier, mainly farmers’ fields and not as much moorland. I went through Cowling, Lothersdale and Thornton in Craven. I marvelled at the fields with the long grass and buttercups, and the sun came out. In fact I was too warm now and took various layers off. The recently upgraded tuck shop at Thornton in Craven was an absolute godsend. It is a small garden shed on a farm, with a large fridge in it and a huge assortment of goodies, with an honesty box. I bought a chocolate milk as well as a yoghurt in a pouch, which went down an absolute treat. There was also a 90 gram Precision Fuel and Hydration gel pouch which I guessed another runner had left there, so I put some extra money in took that as well. That was a real stroke of luck as I had regretted that I had only brought 2 and not 3 with me to the race. Another meeting with an SST team there as well. I reached the canal at East Marton, admired the double arched bridge and crossed the remaining fields to reach Gargrave at 1pm.

Gargrave to Malham Tarn (CP1.5) – 11 miles

Gargrave was a small piece of heaven: community run public toilets with a drinking water filling point on the side of the building, the large bus shelter in front of it with a member of the SST team based there, the Coop, various coffee shops (which I didn’t use but some runners did) and sunshine a plenty. An excellent place for a brief rest. I had been so taken with the chocolate milk and yoghurt at Thornton in Craven that I bought the same combo again here in the Coop. As well as a tube of Voltarol gel. I sat in the sunshine on the pavement to eat my yoghurt and took my chocolate milk with me (I would eventually drink it in Horton at another public toilet stop, though in much less sunny conditions). The SST member remarked that I appeared to be leaning over to the left ever so slightly. Oh no!! I had not felt that myself at all, but looking at myself in the shop windows I could see he was right. Having had this problem ending my race on the Northern Traverse I definitely wasn’t welcoming this phenomenon again, and somehow I had not expected it to recur. At the time my osteopath and I had put it down to a pre-existing slight back injury that I had carried with me into the race, this had been sorted since then. With the aetiology of the ultra-runners’ lean not exactly clear cut perhaps it had not been that at all. Anyway, it was only very slight at this point and not bothering me, I had no back ache, so no need to panic just yet. He said he would pass it on to the medics at the monitoring station at Malham Tarn to reassess. I set off towards Malham, a relatively short and easy section. It was still warm and sunny and I loved hiking through the fields along the river Aire. Lots of contented cows with calves, and curious bullocks too who seemed a bit more keen to say hello and gathered in groups by gates, but I managed to make my way past them without incident. At one point I heard women’s voices and thought it was an auditory hallucination. Mid-afternoon after a night without sleep these had definitely started. I soon spotted that rather than imaginary runners behind me the voices belonged to two women running towards me, they stopped and it turned out to be the brilliant runners Hannah Rickman and Sam Lissauer, out for a run from Malham to Gargrave and supporting all of us on the race. Hannah recognised me, from social media and reading my blog I think, though we had also met in January when I was on the SST based at Horneystead Farm and Hannah came through on her way to her second place on the Winter Spine. In fact in my current  sleep deprived and slightly befuddled state it took me a couple of seconds to recognise her! I got a big hug from Hannah which was a great boost. Great to meet Sam too (recent Lakes Traverse winner). I was in excellent spirits already, but encouragement is always super welcome, and coming from elite runners it’s really special.

Arriving at Malham I topped up my water at the toilets, they also have a filling point there. Here I bumped into Chloe and together we carried on up the road towards Malham Cove. We would spend quite a bit of the remainder of the race together. Chloe’s father Paul was also somewhere on the race, and Paul and I had been on the same SST team in January. Making our way up the steps (400 they say, but I didn’t count them) we also met up again with Ellie whom I had seen quite a number of times on the race already. Ryan Lovejoy, the videographer responsible for the brilliant daily Spine updates, was by the side of the steps, filming. The three of us were all asked in turn, ‘why the Spine’? Afterwards I was a bit worried that my sleep deprived ramblings (I mentioned talking to Jack Scott in my head !) would come across as quite ridiculous but watching it later I don’t think it’s too bad actually. Well edited anyway. In fact I was secretly quite pleased to feature in one of the updates. Sadly Ellie was to DNF at Malham Tarn a few miles further on. I noted Ellie had quite a lean, more than myself, and she said she was struggling. We reached the top of the steps. I was keen to avoid going over the limestone pavement with its leg breaking potential. I really dislike all limestone as it’s so difficult to move over (though really I shouldn’t complain, it was dry and sunny and daylight, what more could I have wanted?!) and despite its beauty Malham is therefore never my fave destination for a walk or a run. There is a higher path which runs diagonally towards the stile over the wall, rather than going over the pavement as the Pennine Way does, I had seen discussions about it (and a map) in the Spine FB group. I had even asked at the race briefing if this would be classed as a deviation from the course and gaining an advantage. The answer had not been 100% clear, but anyway I was going for it. Ellie said she had asked someone else and that it was definitely allowed. Well we certainly didn’t gain much of an advantage as the path was not as clear on the ground as on the map (not to us anyway) and there was still a lot of limestone in the way, so it took us a while, but it was easier than the pavement for sure. As we were wandering about up there and not exactly taking an efficient line Ryan just launched his drone, we could hear it overhead. Thankfully that bit of footage didn’t make the final cut. We negotiated the rest of the limestone strewn fields and paths until we reached the road and Malham Tarn car park, and the good track to the Field Centre i.e. checkpoint 1.5, the monitoring station. The sun had gone in and it had suddenly become significantly colder, the wind had picked up too, and the sky had turned an ominously dark grey. Rain ahead without a doubt.

Malham Tarn to Horton – 10 miles

At the monitoring station the medics looked at my lean and we had a chat about how it was going. I still had no back ache at all and the lean wasn’t affecting me, the body parts which were bothering me at that point were my IT bands, in my head the pain they were causing me I mainly classed as ‘agony’ and sometimes as ‘agony cubed’, depending on how long ago it was that I had taken some painkillers. But I could still move effectively. Getting going again after even the briefest of stops was painful, but once I had momentum it was OK, apart from descending which was difficult, but still doable. In addition I had developed anterior tibialis tendinitis on the left side, i.e. inflamed tendons at the top of my foot. I think this had been set off by my sock having been wrinkled under my calf compression sleeve, as I could see a red stripy and angry pattern when I finally investigated, having already loosened by shoelaces several times to no avail. My left foot had also swollen significantly. I agreed with the medics that I would be sensible and reassess my fitness between Fountains Fell and Pen-y-Ghent (where there is a stretch on the road and therefore the possibility to be picked-up). Obviously I wasn’t wanting to take any risks, or put anyone else at risk, if I didn’t feel I could make it over Pen-y-Ghent.

There is only hot water at CP 1.5, no food as such. I had a cup of tea, lots of sugar again, and a rehydrated meal which I had picked up from my drop bag at Hebden Hey, rice pudding with cinnamon. It was actually delicious despite looking a little unappetising. It was suitably beige. Oh and I met the Spine legend John Bamber here!

I put on all my layers, my warm hat and a buff around it, 2 pairs of gloves, and set off towards Fountains Fell. Chloe decided she would have a 15-minute sleep, bivvying in the bird hide. I felt it might be too cold for that, the bird hide being right on the water, and I also wanted to make the most of the remaining daylight. It was just after 6pm now. 10 miles to Horton but with two significant hills in the way. The first few miles were very pastoral, along a green lane, until I reached Tennant Gill farm, when the route moves onto open moorland. It had started raining, the wind was strong and cold, and visibility was declining with mist swirling around.  I remembered how this had looked quite runnable on my recce, alas there was no question of running now with my ‘broken’ legs. Nevertheless, someone came past me who was running, I was suitably impressed. This turned out to be Andy whom I would spend some miles with later. As hills go Fountains Fell is relatively benign, only a little less in height (668m) than its neighbour Pen-y-Ghent (694m) but there are no scrambles involved. The descent has some rocky bits but nothing too technical. Though of course it was boggy and muddy. I was slow, a poor descender at the best of times, now my painful legs slowed me down even more. Chloe overtook me on the descent, saying something along the lines of that I should move faster in order to keep warm. She was right, but I couldn’t move any faster, sadly this was my top descending speed here. I reached the road at 8:30 pm. It’s almost a mile along the road until the turn-off to Pen-y-Ghent. It was raining very hard now and the weather was deeply unpleasant, with a strong wind, fog setting in and the light soon to fade too. I briefly stopped by a barn to put my head torch on my head, whilst there was still plenty of light as that’s not a task to be done on the top of a big hill. Chloe was out of sight. I couldn’t have asked her to wait for me as I was moving too slowly. There wasn’t anyone immediately behind me. It was my responsibility and mine alone to either get myself over Pen-y-Ghent safely, or to throw in the towel here on this road, assuming there was a phone signal that is. But I absolutely did not want to stop here, I didn’t think I would be able to cope psychologically with another DNF, hard on the heels of the Northern Traverse DNF. I felt I was still moving well enough (and was just about warm enough) to make it over Pen-y-Ghent. But I was hoping that there would be an SST team parked up at the point where you leave the road, informing me that the lower route diversion had been put in place. Alas, there was no SST. I ploughed on, and upwards, into the wind and rain. I wasn’t relishing the prospect of the scramble (it’s short, but you really don’t want to misstep on there) on my own but I think I was prepared to take it on. Like the fog, doubts were swirling around in my mind. Should I go back down and ring race HQ? No, I absolutely had to have that medal. At all cost? Well, no, not at all cost of course. As I reached the gate with the path down to Brackenbottom and Horton to the left my mind was suddenly made up. I was going down the bad weather diversion even though it had not been instigated, and I would take the time penalty. (During my prep for the race I had noted that several participants in last year’s race had been sent this way, I believe because of a thunderstorm). I briefly worried that the race organisers might disqualify me, but I didn’t think that was likely, and if they tried I would fight it. After all, I had shown willing but chose to divert from the route purely on safety grounds, not to make life easier for myself or gain an advantage over others (I was hardly winning the race). I didn’t ring HQ, in that weather it was virtually impossible to get my phone out, and taking my gloves and mittens off to operate it wasn’t a prospect I relished either. I reckoned they could see which route I was on, and that I was moving forward purposefully. Afterwards I found various messages from friends telling me I was going the wrong way! The downside of trackers is that it can make the folks back home worry. One friend said she could tell I had hesitated because I had gone back towards the main route for a while, but that is totally not the case. I had no hesitation at all and from the moment I went through that gate, straight into a ‘wall’ of howling wind by the way, I moved down the hill, slowly, but without ever stopping, whatever the tracker may have shown. I had not been on this route before and of course was now off the gpx line, but it was easy enough to follow on the ground, which was good as getting the map out would not have been my preferred option. I reached the farm at Brackenbottom just before 10pm. There was an open barn and I took shelter in the doorway to ring HQ. When I got my phone out I saw they had texted me to tell me I was off course. I rang them to say I was OK and off the hill now and making my way into Horton where I would check in with the SST team, which she told me was parked up in the main car park. She also told me I would get a time penalty, which of course I totally expected. My route had been shorter by about 2 miles, and I had also missed out on 160m of elevation, having only climbed to 530m. As I walked along the road I met two men who looked to me like they could be SST, outdoors types in Gore-tex™ jackets, one red and one black, and they asked me if I was OK. I said ‘yes I am fine, are you SST?’, upon which they looked completely confused. So no, they were nothing to do with the Spine. But they kept asking me if I was all right. ‘Yes, really, I am all right’. Did I know I wasn’t on the Pennine Way? ‘Yes, I know, I am just about to rejoin it now, don’t worry, I know what I am doing’. Their concern was very heart-warming. I got to the car park at a quarter past 10. The SST member I spoke to was really sound. I told him that I wasn’t sure if Race HQ had been a bit annoyed with me, but he told me I had patently relied on my own mountain judgement which is what it’s all about in the end. And with that reassurance I went to the public toilets to try and get myself sorted out for the final 15 miles to the finish.

Of course, since the race finished I have pondered if I made the correct decision. Had I been a bit of a wuss? The Spine is not meant to be easy after all. I don’t think I was being soft, I have quite a bit of experience going over big hills on my own in all sorts of conditions. Still, out of 95 finishers I was the only runner taking this option. Everyone else managed to go over Pen-y-Ghent. No one came to harm as far as I know. I guess some runners may not have been aware that there is this alternative way down to Horton. Sure enough, I was up there in a particularly bad weather window. It would likely have been better both earlier and later. Chloe and Andy, who went over just ahead of me, and I met up with in Horton, said they had not felt particularly safe. Another runner I know who went a few hours later said the same. All three said they had hoped the diversion would have been put in place. I would have been ‘happy’ to tackle the scramble had I not been on my own, but it just happened to be the case that there was no one nearby to team up with. In the end I am content that I made the right decision, for me.

Horton to Hardraw (finish)– 15 miles

The toilets were a haven. Chilly but thankfully clean. Despite having worn full waterproofs I was a little damp underneath. And definitely on the cold side. I decided to change into my dry emergency base layers. It was quite a time-consuming struggle to first take everything off, dry my skin as well as I could with a handkerchief, and put my dry base layers on. I then put all my other clothes back on and got my emergency foil blanket out of my first aid kit and wrapped it around me. I was sitting on the floor having a snack and my chocolate milk which I had carried with me since Gargrave (it was real Dutch Chocomel™!) when Chloe arrived, having done the full route over Pen-y-Ghent. She also changed her clothes and made the brilliant suggestion of wearing the foil blanket underneath our layers and keeping it on, which is exactly what I did. I would still be wearing it at the finish the next morning. Reader, just to remind you, this is in mid-June! Somehow my gloves had got completely wet despite my waterproof over mittens (need to review this particular set-up before the next adventure) and they were useless. My other gloves were in my drop bag. I used my emergency spare socks instead on my hands. These are Drymax® socks, they are not waterproof but made out of a very quick draining and drying material and they did a good job as improvised mittens (they also did an amazing job on my feet, I had no blisters or any foot problems). We didn’t rush, the forecast was for the rain to ease off shortly so it made sense to wait for that. Eventually we set off, with Andy, at 11pm. We decided to stick together for now.

15 miles. How hard can it be? I had heard all the Spine horror stories about the Cam Road and had never really understood them. What can be so soul destroying about a nice track through glorious countryside? I had run on the Cam Road before, during the Dalesway, witnessing a glorious sunset before the most spectacular moonrise over Oughtershaw. More recently I had reccied this exact section from Horton to Hardraw. I had taken an early train from home to Horton, it was actually the day of the 3 Peaks Race as well as the Fellsman. The weather that day was glorious, it was dry underfoot and on fresh legs I ran at an easy pace all the way to Hardraw, including the ups, enjoying the views all around. It took me around 3 and a half hours. This night it would take double that time. The first section, to Cam End, was very wet underfoot indeed. There were giant puddles and boggy sections aplenty, and streams that were difficult to cross. All three of us were fighting the sleep monsters, we were well into our second night. I had not had any sleep, this was deliberate, and I have gone through two nights before, but I was now probably beginning to approach the limit of how far I could go without. I struggled to walk in a straight line. We reached the Cam Road at Cam End and the track was a little easier and wider here. Andy said he might drop back and not to wait for him, we heard him on the phone to someone (his wife) and in due course we did lose him. I met him later at the finish where he arrived just after me, and he said he had been in so much despair that he had sat down at the side of the Cam Road for a while, until another runner came by who he teamed up with.

It was still dark, due to the cloud cover it was pitch black and there was a lot of fog, causing the beam from our head torches to bounce back at us so the only solution was to look downward rather than ahead. There was nothing to see, not even a horizon. Mentally this made it very tough. Every mile felt like 10 miles. I couldn’t believe how slowly they ticked by on my watch. I was in agony (agony cubed actually) with my legs and my back now also started to ache. I don’t think I was still talking to Jack Scott in my head. As I recall I wasn’t reciting any of my mantras either, nor counting to 100 which I often do. I cannot recall what I was thinking about at all. It was all deeply unpleasant. The fog was so thick that I worried we would bump into the gates which I knew we would encounter across the track, but in the end we did see them well in time. Chloe was very kind and went ahead of me so I could just follow her red tail light which helped me with walking straight. We had two separate two-minute micro naps on the side of the trail, and to my surprise these really worked! I hadn’t tried this before and I don’t think I even fell asleep, but just closing my eyes appeared to reset the brain for a bit. Eventually we reached Ten End where the Pennine Way leaves the Cam Road and goes down to Hawes via Gaudy Lane. Only that it’s not really a lane and it’s definitely not gaudy either. It was 4 am and getting light. I had said to Chloe earlier to go ahead as she would be quite a bit faster than me on the descent. So I found myself on my own once more, this was fine in principle as I knew the route and there were only about another four miles to go. I could tell by her head torch that she looked back a few times to check I was on the route, which I was. Still, these turned out to be some of the worst miles of the whole race. On my recce this had been a lovely jog across dry moorland paths. Now I was faced with yet another boggy swamp. The early morning light was so flat that it was difficult to make out the path at times and I struggled to reconcile the trace on my watch with what was on the ground. It was unbelievably wet and slippery. I was having more hallucinations but none of them interesting, I just saw non-existent SST members waiting for me and was disappointed when there was no one there. On the NT I had ‘seen’ a giraffe and a zebra in Reeth, on a magic roundabout, but the wildlife in Hawes was distinctly less interesting.  The nearer I got to Hawes the muddier it became underfoot. As the heather made way for grass there was even less for the feet to hold on to. By now my body was in so much pain that it couldn’t respond quickly enough whenever one of my feet slipped, and as a result I must have fallen over at least five times.

They were all soft landings but I was becoming very fed up. Covered in mud, struggling with back ache and now with a noticeable lean, I had a serious sense of humour failure on this stretch and there was a lot of swearing. I came pretty close to actually crying but kept it together. Thankfully everything eventually comes to an end, even this muddy hell, and I was delighted to finally reach the road at 05:15. I was moving very slowly now, stopping in about every field to lean over my poles and stretch my back out, but I did enjoy the final two and a half miles or so to the finish. The sun was coming out but Hawes was still asleep as I slowly walked through the town, past the church, and out again, crossed the river Ure and went through the final fields to Hardraw and the finish field. As I crossed the finish line at 06:19 I think I muttered something about going back to 5k road racing!

I was presented with that longed-for medal, my certificate, t-shirt and a printout of all the messages people had sent via the tracking system. I was given a cup of tea and two slices of hot buttered toast which went down a treat, and I chatted to Andy who arrived, whilst I waited for my friend Hilda who had so kindly offered to collect me. In my optimism I had hoped to go home on the train, but with my various aches and pains I didn’t think I could manage that with my two big bags.

Two weeks after the finish I am ready to put out this blog. I had been waiting for the official photographs to come out. I persevered so much in the later stages of the race because I desperately wanted to be a finisher, and to me it’s always really important to have the tangible evidence as well as the memories, i.e. my medal and the photographs. I was therefore heart broken to find out that due to a technical error my finish photographs, and there were a lot taken, cannot be retrieved. The same applies to a small number of other runners who finished just before and after me. These things happen and I am not blaming anyone, I am old and wise enough to be able to call on my sense of perspective, nevertheless it has been painfully disappointing. The Spine’s media output is exceptionally good and visually compelling, and I had really wanted a slice of that in the shape of my own finish photos. Let’s hope I can make it to the finish of next January’s Challenger North for some photographic redemption, though with my ‘lean’ now having happened twice I am not at all sure that I will be able to cover 160 miles. Only time will tell…..

Combining the numbers of the Challenger South and the MRT Challenger South there were 157 starters, of whom 95 finished and 62 retired (40%). I was 19^th out of 35 women and 58^th out of 95 overall. The winners were Rupert Allison (22:31:02 new CR) and Ursula Sullivan 31:05:00. Results here. In the full Spine Race 60 out of 109 starters retired (55%).