Spine Race 2022

So what it all this Spine malarky all about then?

I’ve known about the Spine Race for a very long time now and have spent countless years watching the steady progress of dots moving northwards over the course of a week in January.

It’s always been a race that has terrified me.

The route follows the 268 miles of the Pennine Way over generally high exposed ground from Edale in the Peak District to Kirk Yetholm in the Scottish borders with few opportunities for shelter.

Couple this with sleep deprivation, poor weather and storms, saturated or frozen ground conditions limited daylight (~8 hours), blisters + other feet related issues, and your body generally breaking down over the course of potentially 7 days (the race cut-off) makes it a brutally unforgiving race.

What sets the Spine apart from other ultras is that it requires expedition skills. You need to be self sufficient and carry all the gear you need throughout the race including sleeping bag, mat, bivvy bag, stove and a plethora of other equipment to ensure that you are able to survive in the harshest of conditions for long periods of time.

As with many of these events it slowly worked its way into my psyche and I went from never wanting to do it, thinking that maybe I could do it to becoming obsessed by it.

I originally made the decision to enter back in the summer of 2019 however I was placed onto a waiting list as the race was full. In October I was offered a place on the way to the OMM which I snapped up. Unfortunately, in the week preceding the race I was diagnosed with Parsonage Turner Syndrome, a rare condition which attacks the nervous system of the neck and shoulder and reluctantly I had to withdraw from the race.

I entered the 2021 race; however, this was cancelled because of the covid pandemic so I deferred to the following year.

Although I had a decent build up to the race I fell ill with cold and a chest infection on Boxing Day. It became steadily worse to the extent that I was coughing up blood and had cracked or bruised my ribs coughing so much which made further coughing excruciatingly painful. A chest x-ray thankfully came up clear but up to the day before the race I was having to use a pillow against my chest when coughing to reduce the intensity of the pain.

I had serious doubts whether I was going to be able to complete the race, but I thought at a minimum I’d at least start it – a decision I left until the last minute. My original plan of being competitive was out of the window. My aim now was simply to complete the race so I decided not to run at all, and to spend the maximum amount of time allowed (8 hours) at each checkpoint to try and get as much recovery as I could.

The day before

My friend Mark Clarkson was also competing having volunteered the previous year to get a flavour of the race. We had done a lot of training together and endlessly discussed race strategies and kit choices and had arranged to travel down together with Mark’s friends Claire and Sarth who would then drive Mark’s car back to Newcastle.

Another friend Mark Smith and fellow Saltwell Harrier Richard Townsend were also competing, so I was in good company.

I’d had a conversation with Mark the night before. How heavy is your drop bag he asked after informing me his just scraped under 20kg. Mine was 12kg (a 70L OMM duffle). This set me off thinking about what I had forgot to pack and Mark thinking about what he packed that he didn’t need.

The Spine Challenger (a shorter race from Edale to Hawes) had started earlier in the morning and the day was spent dot watching – my friend Darren Greasley who I had met and shared a tent with in the Dragons Back race last September was in 2nd place, which he managed to hold till the end – what a fantastic achievement.

After registering we drove back to Castleton YHA where we retired for the last night of uninterrupted sleep for potentially a week (and of course performed some pre-race faffing).

Edale to Hebden Bridge 47 miles – departure 8am

As we all stood nervously on the start line we were informed that 3 runners in the Challenger had DNF’d by eye damage caused by not wearing goggles and to prepare accordingly. Forecast for the day was stiff winds and snow blizzards turning to rain on lower ground and poor visibility - typical Spine weather.

A quick countdown and then we were off!!

Everyone started running and I had to really resist the urge to join them – stick to the plan and don’t be stupid I kept on telling myself. I had prepared myself for being at the back end of the field and no-one else mattered. As long as I could move at 2-3 miles an hour in the early stages and then 2 miles an hour later in the race then I’d make the cutoffs including the maximum 8 hour stay in each checkpoint.

I managed to find a way of managing my cough – most of the time I tried to cough shallowly and if I needed a deep cough then I’d kneel and brace myself with my poles which just about made the pain bearable although it wouldn’t have made for a particularly gracious gait for anyone watching me.

Once up onto the Kinder plateau it began to blizzard and I decided to stop and put on my goggles – no point in taking any chances this early in the race. Sadly no view was to be had because of the thick clag so it was just a case of pushing on to Snake Pass where Claire and Sarth were waiting to cheer me through. A lot of this section is flagged but most of the flags were submerged in snow melt or covered in ice so progress wasn’t quick.

Bleaklaw is a very appropriately named fell and the long trudge up through the peat bogs was especially grim only interspaced by a steady stream of fell runners coming the opposite direction on the Trigger fell race from Marsden to Edale.

On the next long slog up to Black Hill and I passed Mark (Smith) at this point who was moving well. He’s twice completed the Summer Spine and was looking to add the winter addition to his list of accomplishments. Sadly, I later learned that he’d became ill with a bug and was forced to retire at Hebden.

It started to get dark as I reached Harrop where an MRT team were waiting with hot drinks and snacks which were very welcome.

Further north at the M62 road crossing I also refuelled at Nicky’s food bar with a Bacon sandwich, crisps and another hot drink. Lush!!

Shortly afterward I caught up with another competitor called Mark (Thomson). I didn’t know it at the time but our paths would cross many times in the remainder of the race.

It had now stopped raining and the clag lifted revealing the distant lights of Manchester and other surrounding settlements and I enjoyed this section.

Just before the turnoff to Hebden Hay checkpoint I caught up with another competitor. He’d lost his GPS and wasn’t sure where the turn off was so we walked together for a while.

He assured me he knew the area like the back of his hand and when I took a slight wrong turn through a farmers field I wanted to retrace my steps until he informed me that this was definitely the right way. Looking at my watch it appeared the track I was on re-joined the main path in a short distance so I just went with it. We were then attacked by dense vegetation covering the path for which a machete would have been useful. “I’ve never been through here” he informed me. “this definitely isn’t the right way”. Hmm maybe just trust my own nav the next time.

I arrived at Hebden at 10pm.

Upon entering the Scout centre I spotted Richard – he’d unfortunately taken a dunk in the beck at Dean Clough and decided to retire from the race.

I hadn’t originally planned on sleeping at Hebden but plan B entailed at least an attempt. After eating and faffing for an hour I retired to a darkened dorm and lay down for 3 hours trying and failing to sleep. Even so I felt a bit better afterwards and after another half an hour faffing I was on my way.

Hebden Bridge to Hawes 65 miles– arrival 10pm, departure 2:30 am

As I was heading up the road out of the checkpoint I passed Silvia (Delgado Ortiz). I’d met Silvia at the Dragons Back the previous year and knew she was doing the Spine so it was good to see her and speak for a few minutes.

The next few hours were an uneventful trudge through clag and dark not being able to see anything. I didn’t feel overly tired in this section but my spirits dropped and I struggled for motivation. I briefly popped my head into Top Withins as I passed, however I stumbled and almost fell into the bothy where about 5 people were huddled trying to sleep. I didn’t endear myself to them much more by my stumbling apologies and inadvertently shining my headtorch into their sleepy faces. I made a hasty exit before I was lynched.

I made a slight nav error shortly afterwards and noticed that my watch was stuck and I ended up having to restart it. Following this it was never quite the same again – normally of you stray from the track the watch alerts you and you can see which way you have went wrong and correct yourself. There seemed to be a delay which meant the watch showing me still on track for up to 5 minutes after I had strayed before updating essentially rendering it useless for nav.

Anyone who has ever had to navigate in thick mist and/or dark knows just how easy it is to stray from a track or end up on a sheep trod going the wrong way. Of course, I had a map and compass and am competent in using them however they don’t help when your attempting to micro navigate through farmland were often there is no path and you are trying to hit a fence or style at the other end of a field.

One particular wrong turn led me to a corner of a field which had no obvious exit other than scaling a barbed wire fence and leading me to rip my waterproof pants and curse accordingly.

The following miles were more bleakness and I was at a very low point throughout until daylight arrived as I reached Cowling and I perked up a little.

What really perked me up though was arriving at Lothersdale to find the Craven Energy Tri club had setup a gazebo and were serving bacon sarnies, hot drinks free of charge and even some shelter if you wanted to have a power nap. This was proper Spine magic.

I felt positive again and enjoyed the climb over Pinhaw Beacon and the low level route through to Gargrave where I popped into the co-op for some much needed refreshment and supplies.

More farmland before arriving at Malham and the steep climb up to the Cove. I passed a couple of lads at this point – Mark who I had last seen back at Stoodley Pike and a Scottish lad called Martin (Heggie). I didn’t recognise Mark at first as he’d had his hood up back then but he recognised me from my cough which was still in full swing.

A few more miles and we arrived at Malham Tarn monitoring where the is a maximum stay of 30 minutes.

There was still 25 miles to go at this point and it had just turned dark so I made full use of the 30 minutes and utilised the hot water available to had a dehydrated meal.

Upon leaving the tarn I was greeted with mist so think I could only see my feet below me, not even the walls to the side of the trail. This was going to be hard work.

And it was, constantly checking I was still on course on the long climb up Fountains Fell and the roads and paths beyond. I arrived at the base of Pen-Y-Ghent and began the stiff climb. Easy going at first but then trickier as you hit the rocky pavement and scrambly ground beyond.

No problem in good conditions its not even a graded scramble but in thick mist, wind and wet slippy rocks it was certainly a challenge and a bit hairy in parts trying to get the right line when I couldn’t see what was ahead. It had again started raining by now adding to my misery.

From the top it’s a long descent over an increasing stony path which played havoc with my feet.

At one point I strayed off the path, and took a minute to get my bearings before setting off again but why was I going uphill – the path was all downhill to Horton right? I realised I’d done a 180 degree turn and had just doubled back on myself. Come on Brooksie get a hold of yourself.

I arrived at the next monitoring station at Horton for another brief rest. Mark and Martin arrived within minutes of myself which I was quite surprised at given I’d left Malham Tarn before them and felt like I’d been moving well on that section.

“Did you take the diversion” I was asked.

Hmm no which diversion is that?

“Oh they’re diverting people to miss out Pen-Y-Ghent because of the conditions up there.”

Apparently someone tried to ring me to inform me of given diversion but my phone was switched off so I got the full Monty (which by my reckoning added at least another hour).

We all set off together and had a good chat on the next dire section. Mark was ex army and had previously dnf’d the race. He’d had a terrible night sleep before the race so his intention was just to complete it. Neverless he was moving well.

Martin was a top level ultra runner having podiumed at various races, however he was recovering from covid and adjusted his race ambitions accordingly.

We maintained a decent pace and the banter was good. We eventually caught up with another racer just before the high cam road. He was going through a tough patch so we slowed to his pace and Mark spent some time chatting with him and getting his spirits back up.

We finally reached the high cam road which was around 8 miles from Hawes. Because of the slowing in pace I had started to get really cold so I pushed on a bit harder to try and generate a little heat.

In poor conditions the high cam road is a truly godforsaken place. Its high (around 600 metres) very exposed to the wind from which there is no hiding and as per the previous 6/7 hours all I could see was thick fog and the ground directly beneath my feet.

Nothing is waterproof forever and I could feel water seeping through various places. My neck was wet with water coming in through the hood of my jacket, my midriff was wet with water seeping in through the pockets (the only flaw I have found with the jacket), and even my elbows were wet. I couldn’t understand why at first and then I realised that water had been dripping down my arms from my waterlogged supposedly waterproof gloves all the way down my arms.

My cough was getting worse too and bothering me more than it had been when I set off from Hebden.

I felt sick and couldn’t face eating anything but I knew that I had too so tried to push a few pieces of chocolate into my mouth and suck on them.

I was utterly exhausted and wanted nothing more than to stop but stopping for more than a few minutes in these conditions meant risk of hypothermia. There is no shelter anywhere and I knew I just had to dig deep and push on – every step forward was a step closer to Hawes.

Imagine walking on a treadmill for nearly 24 hours. Now imagine turning off the lights apart from the headtorch you are wearing and filling the room full of mist so all you can see is your feet. Now imagine turning on the sprinklers in the room, but the water isn’t coming down horizontally its coming down sideways, in front and from behind – blowing into your face and soaking you. Now imagine the surface of the treadmill isn’t smooth – rather it’s a combination or hard stony paths which bruise and batter your feet, waterlogged peat bogs which threaten to swallow you, and muddy farmers fields with ankle deep mud akin to being in the Somme.

Also imagine that the treadmill isn’t flat , its constantly going up and down at various angles – testing your balance and ankles.

Oh and also imagine that you aren’t just walking in a straight line on the treadmill, you have to navigate sometimes non-existent paths on the ground and be constantly alert. And when you get to the end after a short rest you still have another 160 miles to go before you can stop.

That is what this section felt like.

Finally after an age I arrived at Ten End, the end of the high cam road and the descent into Hawes which also seemed to go on forever but thankfully I was out of the wind and the rain stopped too.

I finally arrived at Hawes YHA more battered, both physically and emotionally than I’ve ever been at 2am. The place was heaving with people both coming in and leaving. I had some food and collapsed into a bed in one of the dorms utterly spent.

Hawes to Middleton – 34 miles arrival 2am, departure 9:30am

It was daylight when I awoke and I was conscious about getting moving as quickly as possible but also conscious that my cough had worsened and was letting me know about it. I sought medical advice from one of the doctors on the medical team. She asked if I was bringing anything up, if I was breathless or if my heart rate had increased the answer to all of which was no. She told me that it was ok for me to continue however if any of those things changed then I should stop so I was good to go.

I hadn’t checked my phone up until now – there was no reception at Hebden, but I had a quick check to see where Mark (Clarkson) was. He was well ahead and in the top 10 which gave me a real buzz, I knew he’d do well in the race.

I left with Martin and Mark and we started the long slog up Great Shunner Fell, the 2nd highest point of the route. Martin dropped back a little as he was on the phone to his wife and Mark was struggling with climbing after contracting covid a while back so I pushed on ahead on my own. A number of times on the climb my cough had me bent over double and nearly being sick, it was a definite low point.

The conditions were good though, a definite improvement from the previous night. It was still cold and a bit blowy but it had stopped raining and visibility was excellent.

The next section was uneventful, and I rolled into Tan Hill late afternoon and promptly ordered some chips and coke to fuel the next section.

Martin had pushed on a little so I left with Mark who had caught up and also walked for a while with Stephen Brown, a veteran of the Spine who I believe has completed it around 5 times. I kept seeing him in checkpoints but this was the first time I’d been able to spend some time chatting with him.

It turned dark as we crossed the quagmire that is Sleightholme Moor and we caught up with Martin again just before Gods bridge and a tricky navigational section.

The remaining section was quite dull especially in the dark but we made good progress and arrived into Middleton at 10 pm

Middleton to Alston 45 miles arrive 10pm, depart 5:30am

Upon waking I was informed the party was at Middleton, with a large proportion of the remaining runners being here. It was also stretch Wednesday where historically there is up to 100 miles between the back and the front of the race.

I left the warmth and shelter Middleton at around 5:30 am and made decent progress along the 5 miles stretch of farmland close to the Tees and passing Low and High force, although it was dark and I didn’t have the chance to fully appreciate their majesty.

Climbing out of the shelter of the valley I was greeted by a stiff icy cold wind so I pulled on a couple of extra layers and pressed on and took the long road diversion that had been put in place to avoid the scramble up Cauldron Snout as it was apparently covered in ice.

I climbed into the clag and upon reaching High Cup Nick there was unfortunately no view to be had so I pushed on before exiting the clag at Peeping Hill and seemingly into another world. A vast panorama opened up over the Eden Valley towards the Lake District, the sun was out in full force and it felt like a summers day.

I arrived at the monitoring station in Dufton where I attempted to eat a rank dehydrated meal, most of which ended up in the bin. Another competitor was sadly retiring there after taking a dunk in a beck and bruising his shin.

One of the race officials asked if I could take a covid test because of my cough which sent me into a small panic. It was a beautiful day, I was feeling good and starting to believe I had a chance of making it to the end. Please don’t let my race end because of Covid.

Thankfully it was negative so I set off up the long climb to Knock Old Man and the Cross Fell plateau. Near the top I went into the clag again and the wind picked up considerably (the notorious Helm wind – the only named wind in the UK) but I made decent progress over the ridge without any nav errors and got to the other side in daylight.

I slipped and fell descending from Cross Fell I didn’t hurt myself but I’d taken my waterproof trousers off at Dufton so my bottom half got soaked.

The Noodle bar ran by John Bamber from Greggs Hut is a Spine institution and I arrived there as dusk with another 2 runners Liam Vines and John Slater (who I would see again at various points before and at the end).

I spent around half an hour there getting warmed by the fire and eating some tasty chilli infused noodles. Delicious.

Alas I had to get moving again and once on lower ground out of the wind it was actually a stunning night with the stars and moon particularly bright and lighting the way.

There were 2 reasons I was looking forward to arriving in Alston. The famous Lasagne and Alston was the first Youth Hostel I ever stayed in, my Dad taking me there on a walking holiday when I was 10 so it holds particularly sentimental value.

The Lasagne lived up to its reputation and as per every checkpoint I’d been to I was well looked after. As soon as I arrived people were helping me – giving encouragement, helping me put shoes on/off, feeding and watering me, asking if I needed any medical assistance.

The race is supported by over 100 volunteers, many who have done the race, others aspiring to do it but all who understand what it takes to compete in this type of event and are sympathetic to a runners needs.

Alston to Bellingham, 43 miles arrive 8pm depart 3am

Both my achillies had been sore during the previous section but upon leaving the hostel I found it almost impossible to walk they were that sore, especially the right one. A combination of slow shuffling/limping and propelling myself with my poles ensued for a mile or so until they had loosened up to the point that I could just about walk normally again.

A familiar pattern was now forming :

• Enter a farmers field and attempt to locate a path
• Swear
• Fail path finding task and set off in a random direction hoping to be the right way
• Swear
• Fall over into a hole or waterlogged/boggy quagmire
• Swear
• Reach a wall/fence and blindly stumble up and down it attempting to locate a style or gate (sometimes having to retrace your steps after realising you have stumbled into the wrong field)
• Swear
• Repeat for hours on end

I have a friend Natasha who has a holiday home in Slaggyford and always gives support to the Spine racers (she’s known as the Angel of Slaggyford), but unfortunately it was very early morning as I passed though so I wasn’t expecting to see her.

It began to get light as I reached the abode of Rastaman Ralph. Anyone who has done the Spine or Pennine Way will recognise this residence and possibly had the pleasure of meeting its proprietor. It is just before you climb onto the quagmire that is Blenkinsopp Common.

It feels like something has gone badly wrong here. There is junk and rubbish scattered all over the yard, and few downbeaten caravans and chickens roaming everywhere.

The last time I’d been through here was during the night with Mark during a Spine training run a few years ago. We were greeted by the Rasta smoking a joint and slurping from a can of Stella who proceeded to show us some videos from his Youtube channel in which he ambushes various Spine racers and interviews them. It was a true Deliverance moment and we weren’t sure if we were going to escape with our lives.

Here is a gem from the previous summers race:

Sadly the Rasta didn’t make an appearance today, I could have done with the distraction. The only sign of life was the chickens.

I made a brief stop at Greenhead for some food and a hot drink before setting off up the much nicer Hadrians Wall section. Here I met Nuno Santos, a Portuguese runner who was suffering badly with feet issues and Nigel Martin, a local runner from Hexham.

This was by far the most populated section of the race route so far and on a number of occasions random people would give me encouragement and call me by my name, obviously following the live race tracking.

I checked the tracker and saw that Mark had finished in joint 4th place. I always knew he would do well in the race and I was so happy for him – I was looking forward to catching up with him afterwards and trading war stories.

I really enjoyed this section and near the end of it I was ecstatic to see my good friend Andy Higgins who had taken a break from work to come up and given me some encouragement. We walked for a short time around Housteads before he attempted to make the return journey of 45 minutes in 40.

Because of the damage caused by Storm Arwen there was a diversion which added around another 5 miles to the section and took the route through some particularly “challenging” sections i.e. shoe sucking soulless mud which didn’t quite match the GPS track we had been given further adding to the misery.

Seeing Andy had given me a massive boost, but for some reason I was now going through a massive low which I couldn’t really attribute a reason why. I was tired but no more so that I’d been in the previous section, I was just really struggling mentally.

The diversion reconverged with the Pennine Way just before Horneystead Farm – another Spine institution where the proprietor has kindly set aside an area in one of the barns with refreshments. I made full use of the facilities, having a cup of tea and some delicious soup.

Martin arrived at Horneystead with anther runner Christopher Cowley. I recognised him from previous checkpoints and places along the trail and we chatted briefly for a few miles.

He seemed like a really decent lad. In fact all of the people I chatted to during the race either fellow competitors, volunteers, medical staff were all really nice people. That’s what I love about the ultra running community – there’s no ego’s, no trying to get one up in each other – everyone is in it together having the same shared goal of trying to make it to the end and support each other any way they can.

I arrived in Bellingham some 5 miles later in good spirits. Martin, Chris, Mark and a few others were pushing on to Kirk Yetholm without sleeping. I briefly considered this before discounting it. I felt like I could have continued if I’d wanted to but what was to be gained? Finishing a few places higher and a number of hours more quickly but at this point in time this wasn’t important to me. I wanted to enjoy the last section over the Cheviots and finish in daylight so I decided to sleep in Bellingham so after the usual faffing and eating I bade them farewell and good luck.

Bellingham to Kirk Yetholm 26 miles arrive 7:30pm, depart 3:30am

I slept terribly in Bellingham, the facilities consisted of a large hall with lots of people sleeping on the floor making various noises none of which were conducive for inducing sleep. My cough was going crazy and on more than one occasion I coughed up bile into my mouth which I then had to swallow, not a particularly pleasant experience. I maybe managed an hours sleep out of the 4 I was lying down and unfortunately the other runners probably didn’t get much sleep with my constant coughing – I do apologise of this and to anyone else I disturbed/annoyed with my coughing throughout the duration of the race.

My feet had held out well, other than a few small blisters and some swelling the only other problem I had was soreness on the balls of my feet. The medics patched them up with some k tape and moleskin and after a bacon/egg sarnie I was ready to leave.

Because of the storm the section between Bellingham any Byrness had been removed and we were to be transported by car to start the final section. This reduced the overall race distance by around 9 miles taking into consideration the additional distance from the detour on the previous section.

Upon entering the car that was to transport me to the start of the next stage I was informed I had 3 options :

1. Sleep mode – relaxed driving mode with the possibility of getting some sleep during the journey.
2. Normal mode – slightly more aggressive, shaving a few minutes of journey time.
3. Race mode – potentially could make the journey in 17 minutes if time is an issue but could lead to motion sickness. I suspect there weren’t many people taking this option although it did remind me of my mate Jon Heaney’s driving.

I decided on sleep mode, which I suspect most people did although I didn’t manage to get any.

I arrived at possibly the longest named enclave in England, Cottonshopeburnfoot (I’d love to know how they arrived at that name. I envisaged early settlers being drawn to the area in the hope of becoming rich growing cotton only to find the area burned to the ground and trampled by a marauding tribe of English soldiers off to fight the Scotts).

As when I left Alston my achilles were so sore I couldn’t even walk up the steady incline that greeted me. A combination of propelling myself with my poles and walking backwards helped to the point that after about 20 minutes I could walk with mild discomfort instead of debilitating pain.

I climbed up onto the border ridge and felt instantly at home – the Cheviots are my local hills and have traversed this ridge many times.

A few miles in and I started to experience a bizarre sensation of confusion, light headedness and nausea. It was very strange and not something I’ve previously experienced it almost felt like an out of body experience and I wasn’t really there. I didn’t see any goblins jumping out from behind any boulders but there were definitely some funky things going on with some of the rocks and clumps of grass around me.

There were a few headtorches around the hut at Lamb Hill but apart from being spaced out I felt ok so pushed on.

As dawn approached sunlight started to break through the thin layer of mist that enveloped me and I started to see faint outlines of the surrounding hills rising above me. This further heightened my dream like state and I felt like I was on another planet.

As I crested Windy Gyle I broke out of the mist and was treated to a stunningly beautiful panorama of hills and cloud inversions. It broke my dream like state and suddenly I felt more alive than I ever had been. I could see the Cheviot up ahead and The Schill beyond it with Kirk Yetholm hidden just beyond.

I spent a few minutes taking it all in and finally let myself believe that I was going to finish the race and relax. It was such an amazing feeling.

Pushing on from there and on the climb up to the Cheviot I met my good friend and fellow Saltwell Harrier Iain Armstrong. He’d got up with the larks to come up and see me and it was great to see him.

We walked for a little as far as Auchorpe Cairn before he wished me well for the rest of the race and departed back to Langleeford.

As Iain departed I stood at the top of Auchorpe Cairn and gazed downwards towards Auchorpe Hut and the Schill in the distance. The view from here is beautiful and one of the best to be had in the Cheviots - today it was particularly stunning.

For so long I had been looking forward to this moment, I’ve stood in this spot countless times and I could have ran to the finish blindfolded.

I could now stop worrying about whether my feet would hold out, whether the pain in my ribs would incapacitate me, whether my cough would become debilitating, whether I would wander off course in my sleep depraved stupor, whether the tendonitis in my knee would flare up again, whether the tiredness would overwhelm me or I would pick up an injury that would either stop me or reduce my pace to a crawl enducing a death march to the finish.

Adrenaline was coursing through my veins I could stop worrying and start running for the first time since I left Edale. In fact for the first time since Xmas day.

It felt effortless and I flew down the steep descent to the hut, falling over twice but it didn’t matter. Past Auchorpe hut which resembled a mini festival site with a number of tents pitched out, past the boggy traverse and climb up to the Schill.

Down the brief steep descent from the Schill, across the border into Scotland and down the lovely grassy descent which I took full advantage of. Onto the final miles along the road including heartbreak hill and the final descent into Kirk Yetholm.

Those final 7 miles were pure flow and I didn’t want it to end.

Alas it did though, and I crossed the finish line and touched the wall of the Border Hotel 124 hours 37 minutes and 58 seconds after leaving Edale. I’d covered 260 miles climbed/descended over 40,000ft. I’d been on an emotional rollercoaster and had to dig deeper than I ever have in anything I’ve previously attempted and finally achieved a goal I’d been working towards for over 3 years.

To say I was happy is an understatement.

121 people started the race, 73 completed it and out of those I was 27th.

Epilogue

I’m writing this just over a week after finishing the race still in a bit of a bubble and trying to make sense of everything. This race is by far the hardest thing I’ve ever undertaken.

I went from amazing highs to crushing lows, sometimes within minutes of each other.

Despite lying down for longer I only managed around 7 hours sleep over the course of the race, largely as a result of my cough and sounds from other runners (snoring, moving around, talking/shouting etc).

I was happy with the way my feet held, not so with the amount of time I spent faffing at checkpoints it’s unreal how quickly the time slips away.

Why do I do it?

It’s the inevitable question – why I put myself through so much pain and suffering for relatively little gain other than to say I’ve completed a race of XX miles.

Everyone has their own reasons, mine probably aren’t that different from most.

I’ve always been a very goal orientated and competitive person and like to push the limits of what I think I’m capable of. I get a great deal of satisfaction from successfully completing a challenge of which there is a high chance of failure. Of all the challenges and races I’ve previously attempted I’ve always felt reasonably confident that I’d have a chance of completing them. Not so with the Spine, there’s just so many factors involved even without the complications I had leading up to the race. It’s definitely outside of my comfort zone

I strongly believe that being able to deal with setbacks and adversity in a race stands you in good stead for dealing with similar challenges in daily life and in my opinion makes you a stronger person and have a better chance of living an adventurous and rewarding life.

The past 2 years have been tough. I’ve had chronic pain and muscle wasting/weakness in both shoulders and tendonitis in my knee for most of them. I’ve dnf’d 2 Dragons Back Races, The Cheviot Goat and a Paddy Buckley Round so to actually complete a major challenge again is a massive boost and gives me a lot of confidence and hope going forward.

I’d like to do the race again and be competitive, but it probably won’t be next year as I’m going to be doing an expedition race in Arctic Sweden which is likely to be in February so looking at 2024.

Time for a good rest now and reflection and look forward to future challenges and adventures.

Everyone loves a good kit faff

This isn’t a comprehensive list but covers the main things I used:

Feet

Gurney goo + moleskin & kinseology tape for blisters/hotspots etc Thin layer fell running sock (more mile) and Injini toe socks Waterproof socks (Sealskinz & Dexshell). Each performed well but I found the Dexshell more comfortable) Innov-8 ankle gaiters – generally worked well but had a tendency to unclip at times Innov-8 Terraultra 270 shoes – no problems whatsoever and wore from start to finish

Legs

Higher state running shorts Cheap Kalenji leggings from Decathlon Higher state waterproof trousers

Top

Alpkit merino wool Kepler baselayer OMM contour race fleece running top – possibly my favourite piece of kit ever Innov-8 Protec jacket – performed superbly, my old criticism was it leaved through the pockets at one point

Hands

Dexshell waterproof gloves – weren’t waterproof and had it been a little cooler my hands would have been freezing but I liked the dexterity they gave and other than that they performed well

Head

North face woolly hat Thin buff, also used as neck gaiter

Other

OMM classic 25 backpack – can’t rate this bag highly enough I love it Black Diamond distance carbon trekking poles Petzl Actik Core (main headtorch) Petzl IKO Core (backup headtorch) – good performance but very tricky to change battery even with warm dry hands Rab Mythic Ultra 180 sleeping bag Thermarest uberlite inflatable sleeping mat Alpkit 400ml titanium mug Alpkit Kraku stove + 110g gas canister Alpkit Hunka bivi bag

Weight of my pack at start with food and 1L water was around 6kg

• Running