Hardmoors 110 – Chapter 2
Saturday 29 May, Helmsley, Yorkshire. The alarm went off at 5am. By 6am Ruth and I were in our car driving to
Filey, approximately one hour away.
Filey is on the Yorkshire coast and is considered the end point of the Cleveland
Way, with the start being in Helmsley.
For the Hardmoors 110 we would be running the entire length of the
Cleveland Way, but in reverse to which most guide books describe the walk.
The 110 mile long ultra-marathon is a run of roughly two
halves. The first 53 miles runs up the
coast to Saltburn. From Saltburn the
remaining 57 miles first heads west to Roseberry Topping, then south to Sutton
Bank and the Yorkshire White Horse, and then east to finish in Helmsley.
Ruth was going to be my support crew for the first half of
the day until Rachel could take over in the afternoon. I was only expecting to see Ruth at the very
start and then just one more time at the remote Hornblower Café, which was
checkpoint 3 at roughly mile 31 and a little over a mile before Whitby.
The 110 was actually the shorter of two runs taking place
the same weekend. About 35 runners had
set off at 5pm the previous day to run a 160 mile run. I’d overtake almost all of the 160 runners
over the next day. The organisers were
happy to point out that we were all running a shorter race by referring to it
as the “fun run”.
The race started at 8am and the runners were set off in waves of 30 people at intervals of 5 minutes. There were 174 people in total on the start line. I was in the first wave and I positioned myself towards the back of the pack for the start. When we were told it was time to go I felt a strong urge to roar like a lion. I resisted the urge, but at the start I felt a huge release of pent up energy suddenly escape from me and it felt like a massive relief to finally be running the 110 mile race. I’d been training and planning for this moment for months and the time had finally arrived to test how well my training had gone. I was feeling remarkably confident.
It wasn’t long before I found myself running in the lead
with three other runners. This was not
part of my plan. For a few brief seconds
I also found myself leading the pack, which most certainly was not in my
plan. I stepped to one side and let the
others pass. I did say, “Sorry guys, I
don’t want to be the pace setter, but at least I can say I was the race leader
for a short while”. I think they found
this amusing.
The four of us arrived at the first checkpoint together,
which was 8 miles in and just before Scarborough. Three of us stopped to top up our water, but
one runner just kept on going. It would
be the last we saw of him as he went on to be the eventual winner in a time of 22
hours 28 minutes.
I had a good chat to the two other runners I was with as we
ran along Scarborough seafront, which seemed to go on for miles. Shortly after Scarborough the two of them
sped off and I was then on my own for a long time. I had estimated my pace for the entire race. I knew it was going to be optimistic for the
final 60 miles, but so far I was bang on target, sticking to about 6 miles per
hour.
At mile 22 I made a slight navigational error. At one point the Cleveland Way splits and you
have an option to go via an old Alum Works (which I believe is an old Roman
quarry). I remembered reading an
instruction to ignore the sign to the Alum Works, so when I saw such a sign I
continued straight on. After about three
quarters of a mile something didn’t feel right so I checked my map. I realised I was running on a disused railway
track, which is not part of the Cleveland Way.
I started sprinting back the way I’d come in utter panic. I had to calm myself down and return to a
gentle run. It was plainly stupid to be
sprinting 22 miles into a 110 mile race.
I got back to the point where the path split and started following other
runners. Shortly afterwards I passed a
second sign to the Alum Works and I realised that that was the sign we needed
to ignore, not the first one. I was a
little annoyed with myself and frustrated that I’d probably slipped down the
field by a few places. I had a little
talk with myself at that point to remind myself that my only goal was to finish
and that my overall position was completely irrelevant. In any case, it was way too early to be
thinking about my overall position at the finish.
Nine miles further on and I reached the Hornblower
Café. If Ruth hadn’t been there I might
have gone straight past it without realising it was the checkpoint. I filled up my bottles, gave Ruth a kiss and
continued on my way. Ruth’s support role
was over and I wouldn’t see her again until midday on Sunday. Amazingly I was still bang on schedule, so my
detour hadn’t cost me anything.
Whitby was a nightmare.
It was so packed with tourists that it was difficult to even walk
through at a decent pace. Running was
impossible. I used to like Whitby but I
can now say I won’t be sorry if I never visit the place again. There were way too many people for my liking.
Soon after Whitby I met Rachel at Sandsend, which was
approximately mile 36, just about one third of the way. It was a good job Rachel was looking out for
me otherwise I would have run right past her.
Rachel had her two twins with her, who had made a wonderful motivational
sign for me. Rachel had also laid out
the most amazing banquet on a picnic table.
I almost felt guilty at not stopping for longer to graze on everything
that was laid out. We exchanged a few
words, topped up my water, I grabbed some food and then I was on my way.
Arriving at Sandsend - mile 36 and still on schedule |
My personal banquet |
Motivation coaches for hire! |
The next 17 miles of coast were more challenging than I’d anticipated and my pace started to really suffer. We dropped down into several coves which meant a precarious walk down very uneven stone steps followed by an immediately climb up equally uneven steps or wooden stairs that at times were so steep they were almost ladders. In some cases it was a combination of the two (see photo). By the time I saw Rachel again in Saltburn I was way behind my original target pace, but I was still doing fine overall in about 7th or 8th place.
One of the many steep climbs up from a small cove. (Not my photo) |
I left Rachel and the girls and started heading away from
the coast towards Roseberry Topping at mile 63.
I was next due to see Rachel at Gribdale Bank, a couple of miles after
Roseberry, where I’d also meet Ryk for the first time, who would support me
through the night and on to the finish.
A few miles away from Roseberry Topping I started to feel dehydrated. In the hope that Ryk and Rachel had already met at Gribdale I phoned Rachel to see if Ryk could run down the Cleveland Way to meet me with more water. Unfortunately, Ryk hadn’t yet arrived. There was nothing I could do except plough on and try to ration the water I had. This was the first time in the race that I felt I was struggling a little and several other runners passed me at this point A short while later Rachel phoned me to say Ryk had arrived, he would drive to the Roseberry Topping car park, run up and over the hill and come and meet me.
Start of the out and back section to Roseberry Topping. I met Ryk for the first time just after this point. |
If you don’t know Roseberry Topping, it’s not especially high (approximately 320m) but it is very steep. As I was approaching Roseberry I saw a runner coming towards me with a bottle in each hand. This was my introduction to Ryk. I downed one bottle and used the other to fill up one of my own soft flasks. Ryk then guided me up Roseberry Topping. At the summit there was a solitary marshal who had the task of making sure each and every runner touched the trig point. Once I did this Ryk and I said farewell. I then had to return down the same side of Roseberry and retrace my steps for half a mile or so and then continue on the Cleveland Way to Gribdale, which I arrived at pretty much the same time as Ryk.
At Gribdale I did wash my feet as I could feel the sand was
just starting to rub the base of my feet.
I changed my socks again and had a complete change of clothing ready for
the night. How I wished I had another
pair of shoes to put on as well. The sun
had set by the time I left Rachel and Ryk to head up to the Captain Cook
monument. One of my original goals was
to be beyond Roseberry Topping before it was dark, so I was pretty pleased that
this aim had been achieved.
The next 35 miles should have been familiar to me as this
was the part of the course I had recced earlier in the month. It wasn’t too long before I’d reached Kildale
village, which was the location of the only indoor checkpoint of the entire
race. There was a kit check at
Kildale. Each runner had to have a
certain amount of mandatory kit (hat, gloves, waterproof coat, head torch,
phone, emergency food, whistle, survival bag and map). Not having any one item would mean a two hour
time penalty. Not having either a phone
or survival bag would mean instant disqualification.
The next 5 miles or so from Kildale to Bloworth Crossing was
a long hard slog. This was when my feet
really started to hurt. There was a long
descent from Bloworth to Clay Bank where I was next due to meet Ryk. Ryk had a hot tea and some food ready for
me. I sat down again and washed my feet
once more and had another change of socks.
Then I was off to tackle the Three Sisters.
Crossing the Three Sisters was my favourite part of the
entire race. For most people this is
where they face their demons, and many people had support runners with them for
this stretch. The Three Sisters are a
series of three hills that all have very steep climbs and descents. Coming off the first hill there is a short
scramble over the Wainstones. The
scramble isn’t difficult, but it’s definitely more ‘interesting’ to do it in
complete darkness with just a head torch.
I loved going over the Three Sisters in the dark, along with a fourth
big hill that follows just after the Sisters, which to my mind is even more of
a hard slog. The moon was amazing. It was a large yellowish orb just to my left
for most of the night. Every now and
again I would change direction to almost look directly at it and it was like
having a torch shinning in my face.
At some point during the night I was aware of my left shin
starting to feel painful. It felt like
the start of shin splints. With each
descent it seemed to get a little worse.
The night time was followed by the most amazing sunrise,
which for me happened a few miles before checkpoint 9 at Scarth Nick and approximately
mile 86. I had a drop bag at Scarth Nick
with food, but by now I was finding it harder to eat anything. I put some items of food in my pack and
chucked the rest. Scarth Nick was
followed by another climb and then a descent to the village of Osmotherley, 2
miles further on. My feet felt like they
were on fire as I descended to the village and my shin was excruciatingly
painful by now. I had the energy to run
but it was just too painful, so I had to walk downhill. This was incredibly frustrating.
Sunrise on the Cleveland Way. Not my photo, but very much how I remember it. |
After Osmotherley there’s a 2 mile uphill slog to Square Corner at mile 90. It was at this point that I had my only major wobble, which I wrote about in my previous entry. I was wishing there were only 10 miles to go and not 20. I was pretty much resolved to walking those remaining 20 miles to the finish.
It’s now almost 2 weeks since I completed the Hardmoors 110
and I still feel that I’m on a runners high.
Would I do the event again?
Maybe! I have found myself
thinking about what I would do differently next time. The number one thing would be to have spare
shoes. I would do a lot more to try and
look after my feet. I also wish I had
met Ryk at Square Corner and had changed to road shoes for the last 20 miles. Why didn't I pack my road shoes like I'd originally planned? That was my biggest mistake.
One of my biggest fears was how I would cope with the sleep deprivation. Although I felt really groggy 20 miles from
the finish at about 7am, this feeling did quickly pass. I was also amazed at how my spirits were
lifted by having Rachel and Ryk run with me for the last 12 miles or so. Having a support runner for this type of
event gives you a massive advantage. The
vast majority of 100 mile events allow support runners, usually for the last
half of the event or at the very least the last 25 miles.
Taking part in the Hardmoors 110 was one of the most epic
adventures I’ve experienced. Finishing
and winning the MV50 category was simply the icing on the cake. For me, this event was a massive learning
experience in human endurance. I’ve
always known that completing an ultra-marathon is approximately 20% down to
fitness and 80% mental fortitude, but nothing I’ve ever done before was proof
of this on the same scale. The sense of
achievement that I felt at the end was like nothing I’ve ever experienced and
impossible to put into words. God, I am
now asking myself how I can possibly have a similar experience again!
No comments:
Post a Comment