1. 08:00 Sun, 0km: Making the start line

Wow, I couldn’t quite believe I was even there, all the stress, rehab and strength exercises, kit sorting, lugging the drop bag around, funny tummy the last two days … I stuck to my plan, walked at the back, gave it a little 5 minute run on the easy downhill.

2. 09:50 Sun, 9km: Already unexpected weather

On the way up the very first hill (Kinder Scout) I got overly hot. My decision to wear the OMM Core+ red hoody (top kit tip from Jon) and a coat, was all wrong. I had to stop and sort it out, given I had sweat running down my forehead and my glasses were steaming up, not something I had anticipated happening!

3. 11:45 Sun, 18km: Meeting Ray

After overlapping with another event going the other way for a little while, I just about managed to stay on track as we went off in another direction. I could see someone up ahead and I was catching them up as we climbed. As I drew closer I could tell it was an older chap; I thought I would just go past then checked my thinking … he was in front of me right now for a reason, after all!! As I passed he gave a very cheery hello, then I wasn’t really getting ahead. I decided to chat for a bit. Descending down to the reservoir at Torside, it turned out he was going faster than me, but only marginally and still at a power hike, so it was actually good for me to latch on and use him as an incentive to keep the pace higher.

After a little bit of back and forth as we stopped at different times for the toilet or to fix layers, I ended up settling down into travelling with Ray for some time. We formed a small group with us on that first day, and it was fun to have company.

4. 19:30 Sun, 54km: Making the most of random food supplies (two vans)

In some adventure races we’ve had the fortune to come across places selling food. Others, not so much. In the Spine you have the advantage of knowing exactly where you’ll be going and what might be there. With both official ‘welfare checks’ offering snacks and drinks, plus several people or groups making special provision for athletes coming through, there was no shortage of supplies.

Ray knew this part of the route really well, so I was getting a running commentary on what was coming up next, including two roadside vans. I ignored any of my normal qualms about bacon-related cross-contamination and ate a double egg roll at van 1 (on the move) and a halloumi roll at the luxurious container that is Nicky’s van.

I also started my (uncounted) tally of what was probably the most tea and coke ever drunk in one week. I figured the caffeine and warmth would be good for me, though it wasn’t helping my bladder. I also added sugar to every cup of tea – why not?

Shortly after Nicky’s we crossed the M62 on a surprisingly long footbridge – one of the most surreal experiences of the event as we emerged from the moors in the night, the traffic thundered beneath us and we trotted over in our little group.

5. 23:00 Sun, 70km: Cementing a relationship

Somehow we split apart from the others in the final few kilometres to checkpoint 1. I stopped to remove some detached tape that was now causing a blister rather than preventing one, and Ray waited. On this section we were really getting into the sort of chat I’d normally have in a team event. Life, work, family, relationships.

This is also where I learnt an invaluable lesson. The last 5km or so before every checkpoint would feel interminably long. ‘It’s only a parkrun’ … yeah, but one that takes an hour and a half on feet that are at their limit!

6. 01:00 Mon, 75km: Checkpoint 1: Hebden Hey – bit of a faff

My first experience of a Spine checkpoint. This one was probably the least slick of all of them, just due to the layout. The organisation of my drop bag worked well and I knew where everything was. I had my checklist of things to do and marked them off methodically. However, I was also up and down the stairs several times to visit the toilet, go to the medic, come back for foot supplies, return, go for food, come back for a bed.

We agreed to sleep for 90 minutes. My ‘original’ plan, in the summer, had been to push on through here and sleep at checkpoint 2. However, at power hiking pace I knew that would just be too long. There were beds here, although we had to get our sleeping bags out for them. Unfortunately, all the doors in a place needed a massive squirt of WD40 because they were constantly squeaking, and we should have chosen spots further away from where people were leaving. It felt like I didn’t sleep, but neither did it feel like 90 mins, so I guess I did doze.

Sadly, I was also feeling quite nauseous and only managed some watery leak and potato soup pre sleep and a bowl of cornflakes post sleep. Ray was faffing a bit, so I set off and told him to catch up.

C goal achieved

7. 07:00 Mon, 84km: Finally getting clothes right, nausea in the dark

Ray very promptly did catch me up. I suffered from being too hot again. Took red top off. Got too cold. Eventually, after some unknown hours of tramping I had the bright idea of trying my other warm layer (a somewhat untested fancy Patagonia micropuff thing). Bingo! This was perfect. From this point on, my default layers were an ancient waffle type Haglofs baselayer (courtesy of event planning for Open Adventure in Nov 2012), this puffer jacket and my waterproof. When it got cold I added the OMM top which was my ‘additional warm layer’ part of the mandatory kit. I never wore the mandatory baselayers.

This was my worst stage of the race for feeling sick. I did nearly heave at one point, and was struggling to keep up. Not wanting to lose Ray and a couple of others we had grouped up with, I kept forcing myself to move on. It got light around about a famous Brontë house. People were stopping here, but I was keen to just eat some sweets and continue.

8. 12:00 Mon, 104km: Long slog, punctuated by ankle niggles, blister pain and a micro nap at the triathlon checkpoint

This whole day was long, although it was the last time I’d be out making the most of all the daylight until the final stage!! The mini moments I remember were:

• Heel blisters getting worse, to the point of a wee cry, followed by the exquisite pain and then relief when they burst. Ray got me through all this with gallant stories of cycling end to end, and went to get me co-codamol in Gargrave, though I decided it wasn’t worth risking taking it (yet) (having never tried it before).
• The frozen ground gave no relief, and wobbling over grass fields was aggravating my ankle slightly
• We stopped for more coke and snacks at an honesty box by the side of a road
• I ate a sandwich and had a power nap in a comfy chair with a cozy foil blanket at the mini checkpoint run by the triathlon club. This had a remarkable effect on my sleepiness and got me through again until dark
• An Open 5 friend popped up to say hello and encourage us along 😃 and I remembered her name about half an hour later – thanks Sue!

9. 19:00 Mon, 129km: Probably over-zealous reply to welfare check

As night fell, Ray and I were making good progress, although I’d more than had enough of the tight squeeze through stiles, with their backup gates on springs that would conspire to knock you over the other side. We hatched a plan of how to use our half hour (max allowed) at the indoor checkpoint at Malham Tarn. Ray to prioritise a power nap, me to prioritise making and eating my dried meal (coach’s instructions – I hadn’t planned to do this, but went along with it!).

Before the big climb up here, just as I reminisced passing yet another Open 5 spot, we were met by a couple of Spine officials doing a welfare check. They told us there were just 3 people behind us (i.e. we were almost last!) and asked what our plans were. I thought this was some sort of test, to make sure we were compos mentis and safe enough to continue. So I proceeded to proudly outline our exact plan in blow by blow detail. We had every one of our 30 minutes accounted for. They were kind enough to nod and smile and send us on our way, but on reflection, I suspect they only wanted to know if we were stopping to sleep anywhere ….

10. 23:00 Mon, 141km: Head torch worries

After executing our plan at Malham Tarn and successfully getting contact lenses in (no, Ray, I didn’t need you to put a finger in my eye, just guide me to where it was going in the absence of a mirror!!) we had a couple of hills to climb in the dark. At this point Ray started having headtorch battery issues i.e. they were all going flat quicker than expected and between us we didn’t have the right cable to charge them.

Generally speaking, batteries weren’t lasting as long as expected due to the cold. My own headtorch was far less tested than I would have liked (due to curtailed training with the ankle issues), so I had no idea if the claimed 24h on the mode I was using was true. What I was actually getting was about 12h per battery. We went into team work mode, with me lighting the way on the uphills and Ray saving his for the faster downhills.

11. 01:30 Tues, 148km: Touching moment top of Pen Y Ghent

The ascent of Pen y Ghent was more exciting than I expected, with some minor scrambling up over some big blocky bits. Ray was definitely fighting the sleep monsters over here and wanted a rest in the wind break at the top. We sat down, huddled together for warmth and I contemplated the night as he rested his head on me. It was quite a touching moment, and shows how you can build bonds quickly when you’re working together on an event like this. After just 2 minutes he leapt up – but later told me he thought he’d had a lot longer than that!

We were having trouble with all our water freezing in our bottles, as well as the tubes and nozzles. One of mine fell out of the back of my pack and shattered on the concrete floor of a toilet block … which was a right royal pain.  For all but the final leg I could mostly only drink from the soft flask that fitted in the surprisingly large pockets of my puffer jacket (this kept it just about warm enough not to freeze). But I now only had 1.9 litres of capacity including the spare collected from my drop bag; the kit list demands 2 litres. So despite all other bottles being unusable I also had to carry a random empty plastic bottle the rest of the way as well.

12. 04:00 Tues, 154km: Will we / won’t we stay together?

At some point, I felt Ray was flagging. With Doug’s urging in my head <make sure you do your own race> I decided to suggest to Ray I might go ahead. It all felt a bit awkward, but amicable. I said goodbye, and carried on. At which point he sped up. He said I slowed down!!! Amusingly we were now going the same pace again, whatever had happened. More awkwardness ensued (in my head, at the very least) until I asked ‘are we on again to get to Hawes?’ ‘Yes’ came the answer.

13. 07:00 Tues, 165km: Cam high road

The whole night we had to keep micro napping; the Cam high road went on a long time when so weary and on sore feet. The only thing keeping us on our toes were the random icy patches, which conspired to keep us off our toes.

14. 09:00 Tues, 175km: Checkpoint 2: Hawes – mild panic attack?!

Shortly after light, we made it to the second checkpoint, though as for stage 1 the last 5km dragged. I nearly cried at the kindness of the people in the shop when we went in to get a bottle of water. The stage had taken the best part of 30h and all I could think about was sleeping. I did the bare minimum, showered (I won’t go into too many details, but felt this was essential!!), cleaned my teeth (even more essential) and fell into bed for 3h. Shortly before my alarm I woke up on my front with my heart racing. This did nothing to calm my state of mind, and when I came down and found Ray already up and half ready, he urged me to speak to the medic. It went something like this:

Me: my heart is racing and, and, and …
Medic: let me see, it is only 86, it’s not that bad.
Me: breathe slowly whilst she listens to my chest with the stethoscope
Medic: your heart rate is going down by breathing deeply
Me: oh
Medic: did you eat and drink before sleeping?
Me: no
Medic: well…

So after what was probably a minor panic attack, I managed to eat something and I got some drinks in. I think it was here that Neil, who had been running with us earlier but had dropped out and was now helping, gave me a tube of his leftover High 5 tabs. They made drinking a pint of water much more palatable and I shoved them in my pack.

15. 18:00 Tues, 184km: Scary / challenging / exciting blizzard

The surprise when I’d woken up was that the world had been transformed white whilst I slept. Blisters patched, taping done (Ray patiently waiting at my slightly frantic behest … I felt low in confidence and didn’t want to go out alone), we set off into the winter wonderland to ascend Great Shunner Fell.

This was one of the most memorable parts of the race. I was in turn;

• Frightened, thinking I would definitely not want to do this alone
• Alarmed as I was almost blown off my feet and my waterproofs wetted through
• Mentally challenged as I tried to keep us on the GPS line
• Intrigued to learn what snow patterns the hint of some slabbed path would make
• Excited to be out and succeeding in such conditions.

It was here I also got confidence that my layers were working underneath my coat despite being wet. I’d have been cold stopping, but was OK. The snowdrifts were thigh deep at points, and easily caught us out. I twisted my ‘good’ ankle on a rock hidden deep beneath the snow, but after a few deep breaths was good to go again. At the top there was a bit of faffing, another group caught us but then helpfully we could just follow their footsteps over the other side. I actually enjoyed this bit 😀

16. 21:00 Tues, 192km: Parting ways

After the descent, I could sense Ray was slowing a bit. He told me to go ahead on the downhill and not to worry and though he caught up in due course and we were still together, he was walking in a way that suggested an urgent need for more sleep (this was a good few hours after we left Hawes). He was also mentioning how much he disliked the contouring path, but I didn’t mind it, having imagined something much worse from his description! I don’t really know what happened – one minute he was right behind me as a hinged gate / stile whacked me over, and the next he just … wasn’t. I hesitated a bit, but there was no sight.

I reasoned we had previously had a good conversation about this and that I’d probably see him at the next café where I planned to eat and dry off a bit. Unfortunately, I had not realised the next café required a minor detour until I was up on the hill looking down at it … 😮 Never mind, I suppose I saved some time. It turned out Ray did stop and have some kip there, and all was well.

17. 00:00 Weds, 202km: The moors

Up onto the moors, the snow had stopped, the famously boggy and indistinct path was clear and easy to move on, and the stars were out. I rather enjoyed this section up to Tan Hill Inn, which appeared out of the dark covered in blue lights, like some kind of alien craft with underfloor heating.

I had more hot drinks and ate my savoury snacks which needed fingers out whilst I had a chance to do so in the warm, then set off again. I would have put an extra layer on here as my gloves, coat and walking pole straps were all freezing solid, but I’d had a meths leakage issue and my remaining baselayer was so pungent I couldn’t face it.

As I made my way in temperatures of minus 10^oC I contemplated how eating a frozen Colin the Caterpillar chew was akin to cooking spaghetti, and that I must tell Izzy this when I got home.

18. 05:00 Weds, 214km: Changing batteries and the stars

I had been catching and passing a few people, and enjoying being out in the night. I did have to stop and change my headtorch battery and took the chance to sit down, be calm about it then just lie on my back and stare at the stars for a minute or two … they were quite something. I thought about how my mum would love to see this and had encouraged me to look up from time to time.

19. 06:00 Weds, 218km: Parma Violets and Love Hearts

After a cheery exchange with the team at the A66 underpass, I got to somewhere called Clove Lodge. Although I had been told in detail where all the possible stopping, food and water places were, I hadn’t memorised them or written them down. I think this was because I never quite believed I’d get here.

But here was a large open barn, with a trio of other racers, a kettle for more hot tea, and the opportunity to tuck into some Love Hearts and Parma Violets!

20. 10:30 Weds, 235km: The agony and the beauty

The sun rose as I got into Middleton-in-Teesdale and faced ‘just’ 8km to the checkpoint. Oh my, those 8km … My feet were in a mess, every step was agony, and despite having been great in the snow, I thoroughly regretted having put my not-very-cushioned Inov8 shoes on.

To counter this, I tried to focus on the scenery. We followed a river that started in a broad valley, but had some tumbling waterfalls and gradually got rockier as the aspect totally changed and the hills opened in front of us. I was helped by the fact I was joined by Geoff and admiration for our surroundings kept me moving.

21. 12:00 Weds, 242km: Checkpoint 3: Langdon Beck – actually hungry

I got my routine right here. After the checkpoint staff finally managed to defrost my laces enough to undo them, I ate, I drank, then I slept for a lovely 3h, managing to ignore the extremely loud snores of my roommate. Then I ate and drank some more before setting off into the night (again).

B goal achieved

22. 01:00 Thurs, 256km: Snow, moon, landscapes, alone time

This whole night must rate as the highlight of the race for me. There was not a cloud in the sky, the moon and the stars shone brightly and even on my lowest headtorch setting I could see where I was going as the moonlight reflected off the white canopy of the snow. I could even get a sense of my surroundings, picking out the shapes of the hills around, whilst the softness of the snow covering gave some relief to my feet.

Soon enough I got to High Cup Nick and had to just stop for a moment. I could see it all laid out beneath me, dramatic and brooding. No camera was going to capture this, and certainly not the one on my race phone! I tried to drink it in, to capture the image in my memory before setting off again.

Dropping into Dufton, I was anxiously looking for the checkpoint but nearly missed it. Yes, the lights were all on but there was no other indication! I also missed another café that should have been here, whether through it being shut or me not knowing where to look. After being hustled out 3 minutes early, I continued on.

23. 03:00 Thurs, 268km: Magic music

I was struggling to stay awake now and I had tried all the tricks to no avail. Suddenly it struck me. I couldn’t remember enough words of any songs to sing them all (’10 green bottles, hanging on the wall’ was getting rather wearing, even if I alternated with ’10 little speckled frogs, sat on a speckled log’). But what if I could get some music on my phone?

I downloaded the BBC Sounds app, looked for something that promised upbeat music (Shiny Happy People, any one?) and downloaded a few half hour episodes. There wasn’t a soul in sight, so the music pumped out of my tinny speakers, either from my bottle pocket, or my coat pocket when I thought it was getting too cold up there for battery life. Later, Jo Whiley did an actual shout out for Spine racers … thanks to whoever put that request in!

The tunes had an instant effect, suddenly I was marching at a good speed, up and over the tops and catching up a couple of guys who I didn’t even know had been there and were the only other racers I saw on the whole leg.

24. 06:00 Thurs, 278km: Chilli Noodles and joy

As previously mentioned, I hadn’t got a mental map of where any of the food stops were. One of the other racers told me we were nearly at Gregg’s Hut. OK – I knew about this one, it’s synonymous with noodles. After my only fall on ice in the whole race (bruised knee), we were suddenly there – what a joyful delight when I hadn’t been expecting them!

It was 6am and I’m sure they’d been up half the night, but the ladies on duty cheerfully served us. I checked the ingredient packets of the chicken flavour on offer, but could see no sign of chicken, so ate them along with a dollop of the chilli sauce. Yum!

I had a fairly quick turnaround and left the other two in there as I set off down the track, running and filming a cheery video to send to my coach.

25. 09:00 Thurs, 290km: Knee pain and a sinking mood

As soon as a high follows a low, a low follows a high and suddenly a knee twinge I’d felt at High Cup Nick kicked in with a vengeance. The further I went, the more persistent it got until this particular ‘final 5km’ became one long drag of worry. I knew the actual pain wasn’t too bad, but I also knew it was a long way still to go and it wasn’t a great sign. Not helped by the path being muddy and rutted but frozen solid, so the soft snowy joy was a distant memory from the night before!

At least I was met by my friend from Cape Wrath Ultra, Shane, who couldn’t be more encouraging.

26. 10:30 Thurs, 294km: Checkpoint 4: Lachrymation over a lack of lasagne

This checkpoint is at a place called Alston – famous for serving lasagne. Paulo (who had run with us briefly before) was there and approvingly tucking into two helpings, so it must have been good.

I spent too long getting ready for bed, queuing to see a medic about my knee but not really getting anything beyond what I already knew; it’s just one of those things, nothing we can do, carry on.

I got tucked up for a deliciously long 5h sleep, interjected with several moments of snapping my eyes open to check I hadn’t missed my alarm.

Upon waking and getting dressed, I was ready for some of that incredible lasagne. Imagine my consternation when I was informed there was none left!! None of the vegetable one, anyway. I had to make do with some pasta and sauce instead. Oh dear. I really did seem to be only getting about a 50% hit rate on the legendary culinary highlights of The Spine race!

27. 19:30 Thurs, 299km: Frozen hobbling despondency

Leaving the checkpoint, my main memory of the next section was pretty miserable. The ground was horrendous, rutted, bumpy and frozen solid. It looked like some tractors had been having a disco and what was worse, I was clearly passing some exciting Roman remains and couldn’t see a single sign of them due to the dark and my lack of motivation to investigate. My knee was also definitely adding to my woes.

The only thing that kept me going was the fact I could see the group of four headlights bobbing behind me – I was trying to put space between us – the racing urge hadn’t quite left me.

28. 23:30 Thurs, 312km: Not a castle, what a shame

Izzy had sent a text today reminding me that this day 3 years ago we had been out castle hunting. I then came across what looked like a castle in the dark to commemorate it. I was looking forward to telling her all about it. However, an extensive map search, some googling and satellite image checking after the event revealed that this fine monument was, in fact …. just a barn.

29. 00:00 Fri, 314km: Rasta Ralph to lift the mood

The route goes right through the backyard of Rasta Ralph. This man seems quite the character – you can find his videos of racers on YouTube. He filmed me coming in and then said my light was blinding him. I said his was blinding me! We both switched off and I complimented his bushy beard. He stroked it and clearly looked pretty pleased about this. After enquiring after my wellbeing he offered to give me healing, which was slightly alarming, but he quickly clarified he could do some reiki. I decided to settle for just another cup of tea (why not?), even if it came with goat’s milk and tasted funny.

There wasn’t room to fit two of us in amongst everything else in the kitchen, including many, many empty beer cans. He carried on drinking, I sipped my tea and we chatted about his ducks, the feud with the neighbours, the cats and panning for gold.

My mood much improved (thanks Ralph!), I headed onwards.

30. 05:00 Fri, 329km: Hadrian’s Wall tourism excursion

OK, the next bit was pretty cool, because now I was at Hadrian’s Wall! For some unfathomable reasion, I haven’t been before, and I was impressed with the construction and the sheer scale of it. As I got to the start, I double-checked the OSMap on my phone to check it out, and as I progressed I stopped to scrape the ice off the information boards with my gloves and have a read. My advice – never walk by an info board! Anyone who ever goes anywhere with me will know this.

At the first toilet block I thought I’d get a quick 40 winks, but the welfare checker woke me up after 5 mins thinking he might have missed me. I tried again at the next one, which was actually much better as there was a corner to lean up into under the sinks. No need to even take your bag off. 10-15 minutes later I was ready to go again.

31. 08:00 Fri, 339km: A beautiful sunrise

As I left the wall, I was joined by Warwick, who wanted company. No problem. We chatted on and off as we laboured on, the sunrise being quite spectacular as we passed through the woods. I thought what a great mountain bike trail this would make, if it wasn’t a footpath in England and therefore not allowed.

Our hopes were raised then dashed thinking we could see Horneystead Farm, only to find after consulting the actual map that it was another sodding 3km away.

32. 10:00 Fri, 347km: The haven that is Horneystead Farm

OK, this place was the real deal. Doug advised sleeping here rather than the checkpoint, if I needed it. I did. So I took a big mug of the most amazing vegetable and barley broth, with a buttered roll, then curled up in an armchair with a fleecy blanket over me. Warwick took the bed; I decided he looked as if he needed it more. People came and went but I was out of it. My alarm went off 35 mins later and I awoke to more broth, a satsuma and the bleak reality of standing up again. I was glad of Warwick’s company for this particular ‘final 5km’ to the checkpoint (especially as it was 8km long).

33. 14:00 Fri, 355km: Checkpoint 5: Not the rapid turnaround I had planned

“Be kind to your future self” Doug had impressed upon me many times. Accordingly, at checkpoint 4, I had sorted just the things I needed for what I had planned as a quick pit stop and put them all in one bag at the top. I didn’t even originally intend to take my shoes off – just charge things up, eat, drink and set off on the final push.

Sadly, I decided I needed to at least inspect my feet, and the sight was something to behold. Some degree of maceration was setting in and the medics said I needed to wait and let them dry out so they could see what was going on.

Hm. “Be kind to your future self”. I thought about what I could do in this regard, and settled on two portions of veggie sausages and mash, and extra drinks.

My feet now being inspect-able, the medics agreed to help me by taping up all the blistering. This isn’t in their remit, but I was struggling to cope and couldn’t see what was going on. Mike, who had been fantastically friendly and supportive all race and seemed to appear everywhere, even sent me ‘officially’.

There was not a lot I could do but sit and wait while they cut and snipped bits of fleecy web (something I had never heard of before this event) and tape with which to artfully cover my feet. Jon (someone I had met at Clove Lodge, way back when, in some other time) gave me a pair of thin toe socks surplus to requirements.

I forced my feet back into my shoes, cursing that they weren’t a size or two larger. The speed of exit down the drive was … like a snail. A snail with blisters.

34. 16:30 Fri, 356km: A rescue phone call

At this point, and due to a possible misinterpretation of a text, Doug got a rather emotional voice message from me, which he responded to post-haste with a phone call.

That call could not have been better timed nor more welcome; he told me how well I was doing, how I had been overtaking people, about some of the messages I was getting sent on the tracking app and all in all a general pep talk. Somehow afterwards I felt better, and I knew I had some nice uphill to come (my knee was fine on the ups).

35. 22:00 Fri, 372km: Drug addled mistakes

It was after this I decided to give those co-codamol I’d been carrying from Gargrave a try. The foot pain was really something else. MISTAKE!!! I didn’t realise it straight away though.

As I went on, I struggled with drowsiness, putting it down to, well, having been out a long time without a lot of sleep. It wasn’t my usual drowsy o’clock though, and this was worse than I’d expect given what sleep I’d had (vs other experiences in adventure races).

I decided to try the music again, or some spoken word just to get myself out of my own head. On top of a windswept hill, my phone pinged ‘out of credit’ … whaaaaat?!! This had the positive effect of jolting me out of my stumbling stupor, but only added to the stress. Clearly all the app and programme downloading, sending a video and voice message had maxed out my £60 credit on expensive data charges. How had I been so careless?

Descending, I found someone called Allan coming towards me in a panic. There were three places we had to leave the obvious fire road, go on some little parallel track, and rejoin the main track further down. He was quite out of it, so I led him through and told him to stay with me. He kept asking if we shouldn’t go this way or that, when the route was quite obvious. He didn’t, or couldn’t keep up though – as I turned to encourage him along I realised he had stopped some way back and was seemingly not moving. I debated what to do because I needed to look after myself as well at this point, and decided to push on and alert the next welfare crew.

Some bushwhacking ensued on the final diversion where the path did not exist and eventually I got to the mini checkpoint.

36. 01:00 Sat, 382km: Sharon and crew to the rescue

The crew here sat me down, told me Shane (the Cape Wrath friend) was willing me on, gave me a kiss and handed me good tasting food that I wasn’t expecting! They said ‘if you’re stopping at the church, don’t forget to message HQ’ … oh no … I confessed in a panic to my phone credit predicament and they launched into action to save me.

Despite my tiredness and stress, they had me on the wifi in no time. I had never topped up before – I needed my own number and didn’t know it. HQ were called, my number procured. Next hurdle – paying. No, I didn’t have my card on me and yes, the card details Google Pay suggested were one that was expired. Sharon rescued me with a loan (duly repaid!) and I was on my way.

I couldn’t be more grateful for the kindness of this little group.

37. 02:00 Sat, 382km: Peaceful church pew interlude

I had got a message from Doug – if you arrive after midnight, sleep in the church. So I did. It was the only time I had to dig out the sleeping bag I was carrying, but it was quiet, I was on a long pew cushion and the sleep was great. 90 mins later shoes back on, out the door and another co-codamol dose.

I was fired up as we had to meet a minimum speed limit over the next three sections due to worsening weather. But as I went up I got all drowsy again. Someone passed me at quite some greater speed. What was going on?

As light broke I felt no better, which was weird. Then I tripped over something and was sick, out of nowhere. Suddenly the realisation dawned, the drugs were having a bad effect and the slightly out of body experiences were related. At midday it was like a switch was flicked – I still felt tired, my feet still hurt, but it was normal tired. Thank goodness that was over.

38. 12:00 Sat, 403km:  Best bit of the cheviots: skating on the flagstones. Worst bits: cold, foot pain taking over all thoughts

The path over the cheviots has a lot of flagstones. These were often covered in a layer of ice, topped with a wet puddle. Going round them was too much effort, and I soon perfected a technique of a sideways skid across every one. It was quite fun, and I liked the feeling of the icy water on my sore feet.

What I didn’t like so much was being wet through and barely warm enough. I decided on the spur of the moment to eat my dried meal at Hut 1 in an attempt to close down the bad drugs and keep down the counter acting good drugs administered by the medic for the sickness.

Hut 2 I got much encouragement and more tea and sweets. In between I was filmed by the media team – about 3:45 – 5:10 in the video below + finish at 6:10 if you want to see how it ends!

39. 16:30 Sat, 416km: The final final 5km

I knew about the extra hill at the end, that was fine. But as I came over … the countryside seemed to roll on forever. WHERE WAS THE FINISH?

At some point someone came running towards me with a dog. Who was this? WOW it was one of my friends, Toni, who lived near-ish, had been tracking me and sending jokes all week. She gave me the best words of encouragement and I marvelled at the fact her dog wasn’t off chasing goodness knows what, Uisge could learn a thing or two.

After she left me to finish her long run, the final final 5km hit me full force. My feet were screaming at me and I was annoyed with myself for being late. I had told Izzy to expect me in the afternoon, and had hoped to break with tradition and be on time for once. This was probably the only point in the race where I thought “I’ve had enough, I could quit now!” But not seriously. I bit down on my buff to bear the pain and willed myself onwards, the kilometres counting down agonisingly slowly. Even when I attempted a walk/jog it didn’t help it to go any faster.

40. 18:30 Sat, 423km: The finish: Kirk Yetholm

Rounding the final bend, I could see the archway and the relief that waited … what a strange feeling not to be running euphoric with a second wind … this has never happened to me before! I couldn’t see Andy, Izzy and Uisge but there were so many people and they were ushering me to ‘the wall’.

This is what you do in this race, you kiss the wall of the hotel. I had frankly forgotten all about that! I got there, at which point the troops arrived and I collapsed on the bench, with Uisge giving me the sloppiest welcome. I had done it.

A goal achieved

Reflections

The run up to an event is rarely perfect and 3 months of uncertainties over my ankle didn’t help. I had to change my goals and do what I could, given where I was. On the whole I think I did that – I executed the plan just right, until the last stage when the painkillers and a lack of focus likely lost me a few hours. Going faster on stage 2 would help avoid the situation whereby I slept most of the daylight hours and walked all night!

Some people have asked if it was the hardest event I have done. I think it was the most painful, but not the most difficult. I’m sure you can tell, the state of my feet really affected my enjoyment of the event and are the thing that made it mentally tricky. If I could crack this, it would change my perspective on doing something like it again.

However, I got to the end, which is never guaranteed even if you’ve managed it before. There are other things to do and experience, so the answer to ‘Would you do it again?’ is ‘Maybe, but not right now!’.

Thanks

Massive thanks to everyone who helped get me to the start line and helped me along the way.

Coach Doug, invaluable and I’ve already told him what I think of him. It was partly his fault I chose this race in the first place.

Partner Andy, working with me to fit in training and doing his fair share of the cooking.

Physio Graham for his endless patience and honesty, plus everyone else who weighed in with help this time around interpreting MRI results and advising on the relative risks of taking it on.

Friends for listening to my woes, training with me, keeping me sane, sending me messages and telling me what Roman things to look out for – Izzy, Judyta, Scott, Vicky, Robert, my mum, my dad (for the latter, obviously).

People who I ran with, people at the checkpoints and sometimes people who did both! Ray, Neil, Ian, Grant, Paolo, Geoff, Warwick, Jon, Shane, Mike, Sharon and many others who I don’t know the names of.

Anyone who used the messaging system whether I knew you or not – it makes a difference!