SportsShoes Blog

A few months ago Steve Fry and myself were out for a Sunday morning run when we hit upon a plan.

What started as a crazy idea turned into reality and on the 24th April 2010 we both ran the 3 Peaks of the Yorkshire Dales 3 times within 24 hours.

Last year we were both indirectly affected by cancer. I had a friend and work colleague pass away at a relatively young age, then my brother in law’s mum lost her long term battle with the disease and then, shortly after becoming the first ever vet 60 lady to complete the 3 Peaks Fell Race, our Bingley Harriers club mate and my GP Jenny Vesey discovered she had Leukaemia and passed away within just a few months.

The idea was simple – to try and complete 3 laps of the famous 24 mile 3 Peaks walk / race within 24 hours and in the process raise a few quid for a cancer charity. To make it a little more fun and to raise the profile of the challenge we decided to do it on the day of the 3 Peaks Fell Race and make the race our 2nd lap.

For those that are interested, the distance / climb statistics are a total of 72 miles of running with around 13500 feet of climbing over 9 mountain summits.

Steve and I were always impressed by Jane Tomlinson’s strength of character and willingness to push herself beyond the physical boundaries imposed upon us all by modern society. To me Jane was one of the few individuals in this world that consistently proved that we are all capable of far more than convention would have us believe. So, when it came to selecting a charity, it was an easy choice - The Jane Tomlinson Appeal would be the beneficiary of our blood, sweat and tears.

Formal permission was sought and thankfully granted from the 3 Peaks Fell Race committee, a Justgiving page was knocked together and once the sponsorship started to roll in we were well and truly committed. There was now no turning back – folk (many from Yorkshire) had donated their brass!

Training went well and a 50 mile tour of the Calderdale Way at the end of March proved that Steve and I were in decent shape and more importantly we confirmed we could spend a long time together without resorting to physical violence despite the sights, sounds and smells associated with long distance running.

All I had to do then was to disappear off to Majorca for a week’s family holiday where I could enjoy a nice rest in some Mediterranean sunshine and carbo load on paella and San Miguel. The holiday was fantastic and I even managed to sneak in my last long run before the event, a lovely 3 hour trot through the Tramuntana mountains. We were due back home on the 15th April and as we loaded the cases into the hire car to head back to the airport I heard someone mention an Icelandic Volcano on Sky news – Iceland, Majorca, England – no problem…..

When we got to the airport it was like stepping into a live edition of Airline. There were huge queues of miserable passengers everywhere with red faced airline staff trying their best to sound genuine and apologetic as they told the same tale hundreds of times to increasingly desperate customers. We waited in line for 6 hours to hear the news that the rumour mill had already delivered – our flight was cancelled and we would be booked on the next available flight – 21st April. This was not funny – we had nowhere to stay, we had no car and, like most chaps, I travel light so I’d already used my week’s supply of undies and socks!

We considered staying the night at the airport to see if anything had changed by morning but as we were told this was most unlikely we took some advise from a friendly travel rep and called a hotel quite near to the airport. The rumour mill had also reported that all hotels within striking distance of the airport were fully booked so when they told us they had a family room we should have smelled a rat. When they then told us it would be 51 Euros a night for all four of us to stay bed, breakfast and evening meal we should have smelt a dead and decomposing rat – but we were desperate so off we went. The hotel was as bad as its price suggested, comfortably the worst place I’ve ever actually paid to stay, and within seconds of entering the room Carolyn declared that we’d be leaving first thing in the morning. As we hadn’t eaten anything other than peanuts all day, we did venture to the dining room to try the meal which I have to admit was not that bad. As we ate we met a couple we’d queued with earlier in the day who said they’d been out for a quick walk and determined that the hotel lay on the border of the Bronx and Blackpool front – nice.

The next day things improved as we managed to find a really cool apartment in the centre of old Palma which could act as our base while we waited to be rescued. Time ticked by and by Monday I was pretty sure the challenge was off and by the power of wi-fi and iPhone posted my frustrations on the Bingley Harriers forum.

The volcano was obviously enjoying its turn in the limelight and as it showed no signs of slumber or even being slightly tired rescue eventually came not by air but by boat and bus. When Jet 2 offered us the overland option leaving Majorca on Tuesday morning suddenly it seemed we might be back on. The 47 hours from 7am on Tuesday 20th to 6am on Thursday 22nd were all a bit of a blur but basically they involved hauling our huge quantities of baggage onto and off of ferries and buses and sitting on our backsides as thousands of miles of land and sea were driven over and sailed across. Let me tell you there’s a lot to be said for air travel!!

As the ferry left the port of Calais late on Wednesday night I sent a text to Steve saying ‘assuming this thing stays afloat and the driver knows where he’s going I’m pretty sure we’ll be home on Thursday – so we’re on!’ I pressed send and fell asleep on the floor.

We got back to Leeds Bradford airport at 6am on Thursday, we were home for 7 and in bed for 10 past. I slept till midday and was at work by 1. Although I was glad to be in my own bed that night it wasn’t for long enough and after working until 4pm on Friday it was time to head North to the dales – not the best week’s preparation for an ultra run I’m sure you’d agree.

The adventure began at 5pm on the 23rd when Steve and I loaded the car with enough running kit to sink a ship and more food than some African countries consume in a year. First stop was the chippy in Settle and as we sat on the bench overlooking the square we pondered what lay ahead. It was then off to Horton where we met up with a few pals, introduced ourselves to the organisers, pitched the tent and headed inside to try and get a few hours shut-eye. Despite being tired from the previous week, sleep was hard to come by as the generators powering the race tents droned away until 10.30 pm. Once they’d stopped I drifted into a broken sleep and it seemed about 10 minutes before I was rudely awakened by the alarm.

We planned to depart for lap 1 at 2.00am and Steve’s alarm buzzed us to life at 1.40am (he needs a lot of time to do his make-up). A quick peek outside revealed a still, dry, mild and very dark night – perfect!

On the deserted Horton playing fields surrounded by snoozing race organisers we checked Steve’s watch and at 2am I pressed the start button on my stopwatch / heart rate monitor (HRM) and we trotted off into the night – the adventure had begun.

As we neared the top of Pen-Y-Ghent (PYG) for the first time, well wishing text messages from earlier in the day found a window of opportunity to reach my phone and the still night was pierced by my honking horn ring tone.

A quick shake of hands, 1 down 8 to go, and off we went back down. At the top of PYG lane we stopped to put on our windproof tops as the temperature was falling fast. Not wanting to stand around and get cold I marched off up Whitber Hill assuming Steve was right behind me. A minute or so later I looked around and saw nothing. I shouted Steve and got no response and then saw to my horror a distant head-torch glow way over by Hull Pot – what was he doing over there?! I heard Steve call ‘Andy – where are you?’ and at this point I began to think that things could have been going slightly better…We’d only reached one summit, and done about 5 miles and we’d already managed to lose each other. Eventually, after much bellowing Steve’s torch beam re-appeared and we were back on track – although not for long.

Just after Whitber there’s a sneaky left turn that takes you down to a stream then round to the Pennine Way track but not having the benefit of light and flags that usually mark the route at this point we missed it, went too far and were soon lost. Through some cunning navigation using the moon setting over Ingleborough and a dollop of good fortune we soon found ourselves on the Pennine Way and making good progress towards Ribblehead and Whernside.

The evening before we’d driven round to Ribblehead and the Hill Inn to plant some supplies and as we lifted up the first road cone after the cattle grid we were pleased to see our secret stash was still there. At this point it was VERY cold, my Lucosade sport drink was almost frozen, my brunch bar snapped and my fingers were too cold to feel my peanuts in my nappy bag (and no that’s not a euphemism), so we pressed on to Whernside looking forward to the climb where we could generate some heat.

Our first ascent of Whernside was uneventful although we did slide a little too far right and scrambled over the lip around 100 meters East of the summit cairn. After leaving our laminated charity poster in the summit shelter we switched off our head-torches and turned to see a magnificent dawn of the new day – Ingleborough was ahead of us looking truly awesome like a mini Kilimanjaro silhouetted against a clear morning sky and as we trotted off the summit Steve said wistfully ‘this is why I run……’

At the Hill Inn I’d stashed some more provisions in another nappy bag (unscented of course) underneath a water bowser that was to be used later in the day for the race. When we got there we found the tattered remains of my bag and a half eaten Marmite butty. Thankfully the thieving critter that munched my Marmite obviously didn’t like malt loaf and couldn’t get the lid off my Lucosade so all was not lost.

At the foot of Ingleborough we saw our first human of the day, a ‘wild camper’ who passed comment about how keen we were as he filled his kettle from a stream – we decided to refrain from telling him our plan as it would have only strengthened his already well formed opinion that we were barking mad.

We made good progress up the rocky staircase and as we topped out onto the plateau the trig point was clearly visible in the bright morning sunshine – 3 down 6 to go. After taping another poster around the summit cairn we headed off down the track back towards Horton to complete our first lap. At Sulber Nick we met a fox out looking for his breakfast and as he skipped off into the distance I’m sure I got a faint whiff of Marmite!!!

Back in the race field just after 7.30am and folk were starting to arrive for the race. It felt quite surreal to have already done a lap just as others were starting to think about setting off. Both Steve and I felt quite fresh at this point and our spirits were raised even further when our friend Barbara Carney started thrusting freshly grilled bacon butties and pots of tea in our hands – Barbara I cannot thank you enough for this act of kindness

We now had a couple of hours to kill which with the benefit of hindsight was perhaps not the best bit of planning. It might have been better to have had more sleep, set off a little later and had less time back on the field as both of us felt we were starting to stiffen up a bit before the race got underway.

10 o’clock eventually came and there we were on the start line with 800 other runners ready for lap 2. By this time the sun was climbing in the sky and the temperature was rising – it was going to be a hot one! Setting off near the back of the field was an interesting experience as by the time we had left the field and turned the corner to run down to the bridge in Horton, the whole field of runners were laid out before us stretching in to the distance.

As we climbed PYG it wasn’t long before the leaders started to come past in the other direction and being so far back meant that Steve and I had plenty of chance to cheer on all our mates as they came thundering past. One thing struck me as we made our way up – for what is regarded by many as a relatively solitary sport it’s amazing how many people we know and most of them we’d class as friends. It seemed to me that between Steve and I we knew just about everyone on the hill that morning, the runners, the marshals and the spectators all of them were familiar faces and most of them we could put a name to!

We soon reached the summit to clock up peak number 4 and turned to descend but it wasn’t long before I started to feel there was something not quite right. My legs just weren’t working properly and my knees were starting to hurt – it was too early to feel like this I was thinking as I asked our official event Doctor Phil Helliwell if he had any Ibuprofen. No was the cry so I had no option but to grin and bear it. I felt rough as I passed our other marshalling friends Denise and Simon just before Whitber Hill and Simon later admitted to me that he doubted our chances of success based on the pained expression on my face so early into the challenge.

My pains eased as we jogged along the flat section of the Pennine Way but the heat was making things tough and I wasn’t looking forward to the long farm track to Nether Lodge or the road section to Ribblehead.

At Ribblehead we met Ady Netherwood and Martin Teale who very kindly offered us some foul looking and equally foul tasting energy drinks – thankfully just around the corner I was given a lovely bottle of plain old water – just the ticket! Some of it found its way down my neck but most of it went over my over-heating head as we trotted along the road to Ribblehead (which always seems longer than it actually is).

The checkpoint was a welcome sight and I quickly found my wine bottle of energy drink kindly donated by Barbara and Dave. I re-filled my running bottle and swigged the rest from the wine bottle much to the amusement of Steve’s son Tom. Here we found Jamie Robinson who’d gone off like a rocket up PYG but then fizzled out (like a rocket) and pulled up at Ribblehead in fear that Steve and I might have beaten him….Despite his bad day in the hills Jamie was his usual cheery self and wished us well as we trogged off to the viaduct where I was delighted to see my mum and dad who’d come down from Kirkbymoorside for the weekend to watch our attempt.

As we started our second climb of Whernside I could sense Steve was having a bad patch and this was confirmed as we climbed as each time I looked round he was getting further and further behind. I actually felt quite good here and around half way up caught up with Bruce who despite being tired was still overflowing with words. The final climb to the summit was as brutal as ever and as I dibbed at the top I was glad I’d got a lead on Steve as it meant I could take a breather.

My friend Anna Marie joined me, introduced me to her husband Ian and told me she was packing at the Hill Inn. Despite my insistence that she could still make the cut she decided that this year it just wasn’t for her but that she’d be back next year to finish the job. My breather turned out to be a bit longer than expected and after 15 minutes Steve eventually appeared over the summit lip. I expected him to be blowing hard but instead he looked quite fresh and as soon as he’d dibbed he set off along the summit ridge like a scalded cat with Anna Marie and me with my now seized up legs in hot pursuit. Just off the summit there was a poor chap lying in the track looking very unwell and being attended to by paramedics from the air ambulance that had landed on the summit whilst I was waiting for Steve. It turned out to be Dave Stephenson’s mate who had clipped a stone with his toe and taken a nasty tumble straight on to his face – I’ve since learned that he’s fine apart from a few cracks in his cheek bone, a bit of bark missing from his arm and a 3 peaks banning order from his wife.

We battled our way off Whernside and arrived at the Hill Inn checkpoint just after the cut off time. I didn’t think this was a problem as we’d anticipated this and cleared the way with the event organiser the day before but unfortunately the message had not got through to the CP marshal who was all for sending Steve and I back to Horton in bus!!! Despite my aches and pains, after my experience with buses the week before I’m afraid this was simply not an option. After a somewhat lengthy debate and a radio conversation with HQ we were eventually allowed to proceed and we set off for Ingleborough.

As we climbed the rocky staircase we caught up with the sweepers and the race back marker who had left the Hill Inn checkpoint about 10 minutes before us. The sweepers knew about our plans and wished us well as we passed and headed off for the summit. I dibbed at the top and set off back across the plateau where I met a competitor walking like the scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz and saying that both his legs were cramped solid – it was going to be a long way back for this poor chap.

The jog back off the top was pretty steady and we managed to mop up a number of other back markers as we made our way off the hill (at least this justified the organisers decision to let us continue after the Hill Inn). Just before Sulber Nick we met up with an old friend of Steve’s who was heading down to finish his 40th race (respect!).

As we climbed the stiles just before the finish field we met a group of young scouts all carrying the world’s biggest rucksacks – Steve asked how long they’d been out and we were sure they’d say they were walking from John O’Groats to Lands End and they’d been out at least 3 weeks. ‘Oh from 8 O’clock this morning’ one of them said – wow they were travelling light we thought….

As we entered the finish field we were met with cheers from our hordes of adoring fans (well our families and my dog anyway) and we trotted over the line with kids and hound in tow to finish lap 2. It was great to see so many of our pals at the finish and as the cameras started clicking Steve and I felt like minor celebrities – I’m convinced I saw a pap’ from Hello sneaking about behind the marquee with a long lens…or maybe it was just the sun starting to get to me.

At 5pm after a lovely big greasy burger and a change of clothes and shoes, there was an announcement made over the microphone that the two nutters who were doing three laps of the peaks for charity were about to set off again. This was it, the final round.

The sun was still beating down and the runners, marshals and hardcore spectators were now all outside the marquee relaxing and enjoying good food and fine Copper Dragon beer. Steve and I would of course have liked to join them but instead we headed off for another 24 miles of ups, downs and pain.

As we skipped off out of the field for the last time to cheers and claps from the crowd I felt great and said to Steve ‘we’re going to do this’. Until this point I’d had my doubts as I’d not felt 100% all day and the race lap in the heat had really taken its toll. This lap would be different, no pressure, very few people around, just Steve and I, a few of our friends and the beautiful quiet countryside.

We trudged back up PYG knowing that this time every step we took would not have to be repeated. Just before the summit we met four mountain bikers coming down the other way enjoying the cool, still evening sunlight and the quiet tracks. At the top we met a couple who were reading the poster we’d taped to the signpost and we introduced ourselves. As we peeled off the poster and stashed it away, they bid us good luck, Steve and I shook hands and we headed off down PYG for the final time. Back at Whitber Hill we now knew exactly where the race route went but decided to use the path we’d found by mistake earlier in the day and we were soon on the Pennine Way track heading toward Ribblehead.

As we neared the stile that takes us off the track we could see a lone figure way in the distance and a few minutes later could see a runner jogging towards us. Running styles vary so much that it’s often possible to identify certain people long before you see their faces just by their gait and Steve and I both recognised this distant form as Adrian Netherwood. Ady was soon with us and told us that Robin and Aly Raw were up ahead preparing a brew and some grub for us – top service. Sure enough as we hopped over a style there was Rob’s car, tailgate up, with a kettle singing away on the stove. It’s amazing what a slurp of tea and a bite to eat can do to weary bones.

Ady then carried on with us all the way to Ribblehead where we were met by Steve’s wife Anglea and two kids Vicky and Tom. Our Bingley Harriers team-mate Robert Adamson was also there videoing the two of us hauling our sorry asses along the trail – I haven’t seen the final cut yet but I’m sure it won’t be pretty.

Ady tailed off at this point and was replaced by our good friend James Senior who, with fresh legs, would be our chaperone over the last two hills. Having James along meant a lot to us and Steve and I were very glad of his company as both of us had now been awake a long time, were very tired and at serious risk of injury / exhaustion at any time. Should this have happened James would have been our life-line.

We put on some extra gear at Ribblehead and headed off up Whernside as the light began to fade. This last climb of Whernside was an absolute stinker and the top never seemed to get any closer. The final scramble up the scree slope took an awful lot out of me and even with the trekking poles that I’d borrowed from my pal Gordon, progress was painfully slow. Eventually we made the summit and after stashing our charity poster in my bag and donning our head-torches we were off.

Darkness seemed to draw in very quickly and we were soon totally reliant on our head-torch beams to pick out a safe line down the steep, rocky path off the mountain. As we neared the bottom we saw another torch beam in the distance coming towards us – Ady was here again and at the farm track was Robin in his car with a much needed drink.

By this time I was fading fast and progress up the track to the Hill Inn was slow but we eventually managed it and outside the welcoming pub we met Steve’s family and a car boot full of provisions. Here I knew I needed to eat but I also knew I couldn’t. These are dangerous times in endurance events as your mind begins to work in a very strange way and almost seems to conspire against your body. I forced myself to eat a brunch bar knowing I needed more but being unable to overcome the urge not to eat. All I could think was ‘one more hill and we’ve done it’.

I didn’t want to hang around and knew that if I did sit down I’d probably nod off so I headed off towards the stile and the final climb. I cranked up the iPod and concentrated on choking down the last of the brunch bar. Steve and James soon caught me up and we marched over the grass then onto the stone slabs to the foot of the rocky staircase. Earlier that day Steve and I had powered up here never stopping, never slowing, now we knew things would be different. I led the charge, each step laboured but each step being one nearer the top. I could feel my body working really hard but checked my HRM and could see that I was struggling to rev much higher than 80% - another strange ultra distance phenomenon. This time the steps seemed to go on forever and as we neared the top I had to take a couple of stops to recuperate before plodding on again. Finally we reached the stile and I flopped on the floor saying to the other two than I needed two minutes. Once on my feet again we ground our way up onto the summit plateau for the third time that day. This time it was very dark and a bit mirky making visibility poor. Steve took off his head torch, set it to flashing mode and left it at the plateau entry / exit point – a very smart move.

We found the summit shelter and I put on an extra layer while James stripped our poster from the cairn. Steve and I shook hands again knowing we’d done it but also knowing it wasn’t quite over yet, then we turned and headed for home following the flashing beacon in the distance.

By now I was done, my legs didn’t feel too bad but I was insanely tired. All I could think about was finishing and crawling into my sleeping bag. The two nights missed sleep as we trekked home across sea and land from Majorca earlier in the week were certainly beginning to take their toll. Poor old James was an absolute star as he kept his eye on us and me in particular – it can’t have been much fun for him as I was certainly in no mood for chatting. Earlier in the day Steve and I had talked about how we were using a method known as chunking to chip away at the challenge. The theory is that on a long event instead of thinking about how far the whole route is, it’s better to split it up into chunks and simply work from one defined end point to the next – eating the elephant in small bites instead of trying to swallow it whole…..

My chunks were now becoming very small and where on our first lap the summit of Ingleborough to the finishing field may have been a single chunk, I was now looking ahead no more than a few hundred meters before selecting the end of my sector. As we neared Sulber Nick for the final time I could physically feel myself starting to fall asleep on my feet. I had the devil on one shoulder telling me to lie down and take a nap and the angel on the other telling me that was dangerous and to keep going.

Eventually we started to see the lights of Horton in the distance but frustratingly they seemed to hang there in the darkness and never get any closer. The finger post after Sulber was a very welcome sight - just 1 mile to go - and as we passed it I actually rallied for a few seconds knowing that it was finally in the bag.

Over the final brow and civilization appeared at the other side of the railway. It was just after midnight and in the distance from out of the deathly still night we could hear voices, laughter, shouts and cheers. We had a welcoming committee!

As we hit the road and marched towards the pub we could see our friends on the bridge shouting heckling and cheering, ‘sprint finish’ someone shouted – ‘this is a sprint’ replied Steve – he wasn’t joking! With a hundred meters to go we broke into a jog and were soon surrounded by our friends and family. I was absolutely delighted to see them and couldn’t believe there were so many there including folk we’d never even met before. Ady thrust a bottle of beer in my hand and I took a swig to mark the end of a very long day.

So here I am one week on writing this and asking myself if it was all worth it – OF COURSE IT WAS. It was a great adventure and it’s given Steve and I memories we’ll keep forever. We were also amazed by how it seemed to grab the interest and imagination of so many others and we’ve been genuinely humbled by the generosity of those that have donated to our Justgiving page.

We endured a bit of pain during the day but to be honest is was nothing more than a bit of mild discomfort – nothing compared to that suffered by our friends and their families as they waged and lost their battles with cancer. Our efforts, or more specifically the generosity of our friends, have raised over 2 grand for cancer charities – let’s hope we never need it!!

For the record, we ran for about 18 ½ hours, we were on the go for around 22 and a bit hours and when I checked my HRM the next day I found I’d burnt 13362 calories – glad I ate those fish and chips!

Saturday saw the 55th running of the classic 3 Peaks Fell Race in Yorkshire.

The event is 24 miles long with 4500 ft of climb and takes in Pen-y-gent, Whernside and Ingleborough. It pretty much follows the  route of the 3 Peaks Walk which is attempted by thousands each year who set out to try and complete it in under 12 hours.

The course record for the race was set by my pal Andy Peace back in 1996 and stands at a staggering 2 hours and 46 minutes - a time which I find simply incredible.

I completed it for the 5th time on Saturday which I guess isn’t bad but when you compare that with one chap who did it for the 42nd time (and is 70 years old) then my tally is somewhat feeble!

Anyway, I managed to post a PB getting round the course in 3 hours and 34 minutes and finishing in 29th place overall from 689 starters.

Despite this, I don’t feel I had a particularly good race and was dissappointed with my climbs up Whernside and Ingleborough. It’s hard to say what exactly went wrong but I just didn’t feel to have any spring in my step on the ups but thankfully I came round a bit on the descents to allow me to stay well ahead of any time I’ve done previously.

I would have really liked to break the 3 hour 30 barrier but this year it was not to be. That said, I think if I could run like I did in the Haworth Hobble a few weeks ago I would be able to knock at least 5 minutes off Saturday’s time so next year I’ll try again.

The race was won by my team mate Rob Jebb and with Andy Peace in 8th, my training partner Jamie Robinson in 24th and me 29th we won the team prize for Bingley Harriers.

This morning 2 days after the race, I managed a very short walk / jog with my dog although descending anything higher than about 1 inch is very painful and I’m still having to come down stairs sideways….. I’m not injured it’s my leg muscles (quads in particular) that are struggling to recover from the battering they took on the descents.

Next it’s the Fred Whitton cycle race which at 112 miles should prove an interesting challenging.

Well it’s Monday and I’ve survived another 3 Peaks Cyclo Cross (my 6th).

What a day we had yesterday - a record entry of over 500, a new course record set by my Bingley Harriers team mate Rob Jebb, stunning weather and the biggest crowds I’ve ever seen at the event.

As you’ll have read in my earlier posts, I hadn’t really prepared very well (read at all) for this year’s race as I’ve been concentrating on my running instead of biking this year but as there’s a lot of off bike climbing and off road descending in the peaks my time didn’t really suffer. In fact I set my second best time around the course at 4.00 hours 46 seconds. I should be pleased with this but as a first class award goes to all those under 4 hours I feel a little bit miffed.

Anyway, what it did tell me is that I should be well capable of a sub 4 if I put a bit of time into getting bike fit before next year’s race. I’ve decided that this will be one of my target races for next year and want to see if I can find a good blend of cycling and running that will see my results improve in both disciplines.

As predicted, I didn’t feel I did too bad on the climbs and the descents but the road sections (of which there are quite a few) are my major weakness. The roadies just come steaming past me, working together in groups, and I simply can’t hang on. I reckon there’s a good 10 mins to be saved if I can up my road strength and stay with a group.

I beat my pal Pete Jowett by two mins but it’s a bit of a hollow victory as he punctured coming of Whernside which will have cost him 5-10 mins - that said staying puncture free is all part of the race and if you push too hard on the descents is very easy to nip a tube.

My running training partner Jamie Robinson did the race for the first time this year and despite admitting to be sh*****g himself on the start line he had a great, trouble and injury free ride coming home just inside 4.5 hrs - well done Jamie. I’ve spoken with him today and he’s caught the 3PX bug and is already talking about what he could do in next years race - funny how pain can be addictive!!

It was also nice to have some friends on the course spectating this year - the support I got from Jez, Mick, Steve and Ian was fantastic and even though I declined a drink from Sarah on the way up Penyghent it was a much appreciated offer. However, either Ian or me need to practise our Tour De France style rider support as I nearly broke my hand on the mirror of his van whilst trying to pass back an empty bottle…..

The old legs feel fine today - it’s amazing how different the body feels after a long cycle compared to a long run. It’s the down hill braking effect that really screws the leg muscles when running - something that just doesn’t happen when biking.

Next event is the Langdale Fell race in the lakes in 2 weeks time - I’m really looking forward to this as I had a great run there a couple of years ago and I’m keen to get round the course again.

My eldest son Max is going training with the Bingley Harriers for the first time tomorrow - he can’t wait.

This coming Tuesday, Bingley Harriers are having ‘a bit of do’ after the training session.

This is to celebrate the move of the seniors from Beckfoot school to the excellent facilities at Bradford & Bingley Rugby Club. In terms of distance ‘the move’ is only about 200 yards as the school and the rugby club are only seperated by a road.

The move has been prompted by the rebuilding work that’s going on at the school but is also seen as an opportunity to develop the social side of the club as the B&B bar gives us a great post training meeting / chatting area - something we’ve been lacking for a long time.

It is hoped that training from B&B will encourage lots more existing members to come down and join in the pack runs and speed sessions but also we’re hoping it might attract new members too - WHY NOT MAKE IT YOU!!!

If you are :-

- new to running

- ran years ago and are just getting going again

- have been running for years but never been a club member or are

- running for a club that doesn’t meet your needs

(and live reasonably local)

why not come and see us at the B&B rugby club every Tuesday at 7pm (speed / hill sessions) and Thursday at 7.30pm (pack runs).

Whatever your ability, you’ll be made welcome and I assure you that (unless you’re already an elite / national standard runner) you’ll quickly get fitter and faster. Whoever you are, one thing’s for sure, you’ll meet a load of new pals with the same interest as you.

Please don’t be put off by Bingley’s impressive heritage of champions and believe some people who say it’s an elitest club - it isn’t. It genuinely caters for everyone whether you’re the slowest once a week gentle jogger or a world champion.

Come on down - you know you want to!!!!!

(By the way, in case you’re not local the above applies wherever you live - joining your local club could seriously improve your running and bring a lot of fun into your life).

Here’s the motley crew from Bingley Harriers (well most of them anyway). I’m number 42, there were 42 people who finished in front of me and 442 finsihers in total - 42 hmmm perhaps it really is the answer to life the universe and everyting (read The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy if you’re a bit lost).

Anyway, I’ve felt pretty good this week ‘post Ben’ - went out for a very steady 40 min trot with a few other Bingley Ben racers on Tuesday (got stung by a wasp - b%&*$£d thing) then did an hour+ on Thursday again at very low intensity (This was a pub run from Baildon so we had to make use of the amenities when we got back!!)

Need to try and get some bike miles in now for the 3 Peaks Cross which is only 2 weeks away. No idea how this is going to go this year as I’m running OK on the hills but haven’t ridden more than 20 miles in one ride all year. The 3PX is 36miles and very tough. I’ll be up against some very fit 100+ mile / per week roadies who’ll come storming past me on the tarmac but I can usually pull a bit back on the climbs / carrying sections and let my MTB skills help me on the descents.

It’s the Yorkshireman off-road marathon tomorrow from Haworth which I would like to have done (did it a few years back - nice race) but my good lady is out so I’m child and dog minding. If the weather’s half decent I think we’ll all go for a big walk over the moors.

What a weekend…..for the Bingley Harriers at the Ben Nevis Fell race.

Rob Jebb was 2nd overall missing out on top spot by just 13 seconds to the world number one sky runner Augusti Roc of Spain.

Bingley picked up 1st mens team award with Rob Jebb, Robin Lawrence and Paul Mitchell as counters

Ali Raw won the ladies (just) over 40 title.

My ‘old’ pals Ian Goodyear and Mick Ford both completed their 20th Ben races - just one more for each of them before they are awarded their 21 race trophies.

Added to that, I had a great run finishing in 43rd place (out of 442) in a personal best time of 1hr 52 mins. I turned at the top in 1hr 16 mins which is not my fastest ascent but had a storming return making the 4.5 miles and 4000 ft of descent back to the finish field in just 36 mins. I feel that if I could work on my climbing I may still have a very good Ben time in me.

I pipped my training partner Jamie Robinson by a minute or so which I was pleased about as he’s running strong at the minute and I thought he’d have got the better of me on this one. It was a great run for Jamie though and he too beat his Ben PB by some margin.

In all we had around 20 harriers in the field making for a great race and an even better night out.

Quite unbelievably, whilst most of England was swimming, the weather for the whole weekend was fantastic although the strong winds at the summit made the 7 degree temperature feel a lot colder. (It always amuses me to see runners in shorts and vests passing walkers in base layers, mid layers and triple layer gore-tex jackets).

This year the Ben race was a round of the World Sky-running championship and as such attracted around 20 runners from Spain, Italy, Andora and France. As Rob Jebb said in his ‘few words’ at the award ceremony, our ‘European’ friends really proved to us that they can run up and down one of the knarliest and toughest of Britain’s hills and not just on nice smooth alpine tracks.

As predicted, my legs feel a little on the heavy side today. I’m hoping they might have softened a little by tomorrow and if they have I’ll probably try a little spin out in the evening.

I need to concentrate as much as possible on the bike now for the next couple of weeks as my next event is the 3 Peaks Cyclo Cross at the end of September.

Sorry for the lack of communication - there’s obviously been a bit of a rejig to the site which I missed and last week I struggled to log in. As such, my latest post is a bit late in arriving. The Sedbergh Hills race and the Olympics now seem like ancient history.

Anyway, the Bingley Harriers backpack run to Ilkley was a raging success (if not a little messy!!) and I managed to get a couple of bike rides in that weekend as well. Again that seems a long time ago as I’ve just returned from a fab week in the Alps - Chamonix to be precise. What a place that is - if you’ve never been put it on your list of must see places.

I was out there on holiday but also to take in the North Face Ultra Trail Tour Du Mont Blanc race. After running it in 2007, this year I was there purely as a spectator and assistant to a few mates of mine that were running. It’s an absolutely spectacular event with 2400 runners taking on the 100 mile course (+30,000 ft of climb). This year, due mainly to the hot weather, only around 1250 runners actually completed the course in the alloted time (46 hours). I’m really pleased to say that my pals Colin, Rob, Johnny and Kevin all made it to the finish - well done guys you can wear the jacket with pride. Unfortunately, one of my other buddies Ross failed this year after a good run last year - I think he was probably trying a bit too hard early on and paid the price in the heat.

Britain had a fantastic victory with Lizzie Hawker winning the womens race in a fantastic time of 25 hours 20 mins - big respect!!!

Managed to get a couple of good runs in whilst I was there - What a place the alps are - hundreds of miles of trails all with breathtaking scenery and  massive climbs and descents - a real runners / bikers paradise. I was out last Thursday morning early - caught the cable car half way up Mont Blanc then ran along the Grand North Balcon - saw my first Marmott!! - before returning to Chamonix via the Montenvers trail - all this before breakfast - top banana!!

Now it’s back to reality - well almost as it’s the mighty Ben Nevis race this Saturday. Just time to unpack and rinse through my undies before I’m off again on a trip oop north.

The Ben is a real hard race - 1 mile flat - 4 miles climb - 4 miles descent - 1 mile flat - simple eh? I can tell you that no 10 mile run feels like the Ben race - nor does any 10 mile run make you walk in such a bizzare way for the next 2 days. Afetr my semi restful holiday I’ll be interested to see how I go this weekend - one thing’s for sure the party in Fort Bill on Saturday night will be a gud un!!

So I decided late Saturday to race the Sedbergh Hills race on Sunday. This is a serious AL fell race at 14 miles and 6000ft of climb. (AL or A Long is an FRA grade which measures height gained and distance and the system goes from CS to AL). Sedbergh is in the Howgills above the Dales and to the right of the Lakes and it’s an area I’ve never really visited. I’ve heard a lot about the race and was quite keen to give it a shot as, if nothing else, it would give me some decent climbing practise before the Ben. As I didn’t know the course and I’d trained all week before the race (including Saturday) I decided to simply treat it as a long training run - which is exactly what it turned out to be. I ran with my pal Andrew Jebb (brother of the fell running supremo Rob) for the first half of the race but had no option but to let him go after checkpoint 4 as he was simply too strong for me on the long climb up to ‘The Calf’.

I managed to perform a bit of a crowd pleasing comedy tumble on a track about half way round which resulted in a badly sprained and bruised thumb! Not the most common of fell running injuries….

Anyway, I really enjoyed the race despite blowing quite badly between checkpoint 5 and 6 and having to eat almost all my emergency rations (SIS Go Gel, chocolate raisins and a brunch bar - didn’t need my ‘break wax in case of emergency’ babybell though - that’s in there to fend off cramp should it rear its ugly head)- now I know the route I think I’ll be back for more next year.

Had a rest Monday, although the old legs didn’t feel too bad, and then tonight went for another hour on the roadie - my how my 3 Peaks traning is really coming on!!! Oh and by the way I was wrong in my earlier post it was 16.5 mph avereage not 17.5 - I’m even more rubbish on a bike than I thought I was.

Thursday night it’s the Bingley Harriers backpack run from Beckfoot School to the pubs in Ilkley - this started off as a crazy stunt amongst a few of us but has turned into quite a tradition - full report soon.

Anyway - anyone see the Olympic triathlon this morning? - what about the Bingley Harrier leading from the front until 2.5km out - a fantastic performance by Alistair Brownlee - he’s my tip for the top in 2012 (oh and his brother Johnathon for silver!!)

Just returned from the lakes and competing in the Borrowdale Fell Race.

It was a British and English championship counter so it was even busier than usual this year with around 460 starters. Despite each athlete needing prior experience before they could enter the race, it still filled to its limit of 500 within a couple of days of the entries opening in May. There’s a real resurgence in popularity for fell running at the minute which I personally think is great for the sport.

What we need now is to somehow get more junior runners to take to the fells rather than the road or track. 

Anyway, after last week’s light training, I felt pretty good on the start line - I was just hoping the feeling would last. The start is quite quick as it’s flat for the first mile or so but then it kicks up sharply for the climb up Bessy Boot (yes that really is its name). After that it’s a long undulating boggy / rocky run of around 5 miles across to Esk Hause and Scafell. The rocks toward the summit of Scafell were slippy as hell and with the fog down, the highest place in England was once again a pretty grim place to be. The scree decent off Scafell is pretty exiting and then it’s a technical run across the corridor route to Sty Head at the foot of Great Gable. The climb up Gable is a real slog with a very cheeky false summit to raise then dash your hopes. From the summit it’s a very tricky navigation exercise to reach Honister pass and lots of folk get lost (including Rob Jebb who was leading the race until this point and eventually finished 15th after going the wrong way!!!). I managed to stay on track and toughed out the last climb up Dale Head before plunging down to the finish chasing and being chased by some of my Bingley Harriers club mates.

I finished in around 3 hours 41 mins (winning time was well under 3 hours!!) and was reasonably pleased as I’d felt pretty good all the way around.

After a quick wash in the river we partied the night away first around the BBQ, then in the pub, then the beer tent (to steel band music) and finally at a local’s house party. Crawled into the tent at 3.05am.

Think I’ll have a day off today!!

Finally, my mate Steve has started the coast to coast run today which he’s aiming to do in 3 days - I’ll report on progress soon….    

Steady week this week.

Ran early mornings Monday and Tuesday - just 25 mins / session around Shipley Glen - it’s nice to get out first thing especially when the weather’s good.

Didn’t do anything Wednesday then ran with Bingley Harriers Thursday evening. Tough session (for me) as the fast boys were out. 1 hour 15 around Cottingly, Harden Moor and St Ives.

Friday morning out again around Shipley Glen for a quick trot.

It’s my wife’s 40th this weekend and her party was last night so I’m feeling a bit sluggish today - will try and get out for an hour a bit later though - got to keep things ticking over.