Every Second Counts

Bob Graham, Sat/Sun 15/16 June.

Following the disappointment of not completing the
round two years ago it was with some trepidation that I geared up to have
another crack this year and assembled a team of very trusted friends to support
me in my endeavour. Unfortunately the weather gods didn’t cooperate and after
two weeks of a stable high pressure system the weekend weather was set for
gales and driving rain. At the last minute it was agreed to delay by 24 hours
in the hope of capturing a window in the weather so at 5pm on Saturday
afternoon I touched the fabled Moot Hall doors and set off into the hills.

Within 30 mins of leaving the heavens opened
and as we climbed higher on Skiddaw the wind picked up speed blowing pacers off
their feet. These conditions persisted as we battled Lakeland tussock uplands,
a deeper than expected river crossing and a steep ridge descent before arriving
to the welcoming faces at Threlkeld. A long break to refuel for the hours ahead
and a complete change of clothes.  Eating
at the road crossings is considered critical to a BG success unfortunately I
managed to overload which caused a splendid regurgitation on the steep climb up
Clough Head. Something wasn’t right with the digestive system and with the
beckoning dark and deterioration in the weather I seriously considered the
wisdom of pushing on.

Endurance challenges are not races and although
the clock ticks the experience that you have gained over the years provides the
knowledge that you can come through dark periods and time can be recuperated
later on. So we pressed on with darkness eventually enveloping us high on the
Helvellyn ridge and so with it the surreal experience of running high in the
hills at night following a narrow beam of light; the rain drops casting strange
glistening images whilst navigating from memory as we passed over various
isolated rocky tops whilst avoiding the plunging abyss that we knew lay to the
left.

The next road crossing arrives with the
ceremony of 2 fresh faces, more food and change of socks and shoes before the
fearfully steep 1000 foot ascent of Steel Fell. The miles and hills start to
sap and as with the arrival of every new pacer I would envy their fresh legs
rather than struggle with my mine that are beginning to wilt. Tops now start to
be ticked off in rapid succession and the dawn chorus is most welcome
especially as my head torch battery fades to the strength of a dying glow worm.
After a night of buffeting winds and rain the forecast of better weather
appears to be holding true as we slowly start to see more hills emerge from
their protective shroud of cloud.

Carefully we negotiated fiendish slippery
boulders of the Scafell Pike range followed by an entertaining ascent of Lords
Rake before hurtling downhill (an epic bumslide!) into picturesque Wasdale.
This is the point when a BG success starts to become a reality (or not,) but
also the point when the body starts to succumb to the brutal strains that have
been imposed upon it. The climb out of Wasdale is notorious for its steep
terrain and this is not the time to enjoy the views. Plenty of digging deep
into inner reserves as we crested peak after peak, climbs which would be
considered challenging but straightforward, become torture as the legs cannot
muster the strength to drive onwards and upwards. Still the chance of success
is there but it is becoming tighter.

Honister Pass, the next road crossing, is not a
stop today. Attempting to power up Dalehead, the last big climb, frustration
that this relatively innocuous slope has become more like a high Himalayan peak,
the mind says forward but the body says NO! Running down we meet with some
girlfriends and the pacing team has reached epic proportions. Topping the last
of the 42 peaks, Robinson, it became clear that the final 10k on the road would
have to be run in sub 50 mins if I was to achieve the required time.

A quick change of shoes and with all the pacers
now running the convoy pressed on trying to tick off the miles in as little
time as possible.  Each small rise on the
road became yet another frustrating obstacle between me and my long held
ambition to complete the Bob Graham. Everyone is encouraging and this is now
more like a Tuesday evening training schedule. Andy keeps a close eye on speed
and time whilst muttering about lengthening my stride to relieve the pain. The
final mile and with 8 minutes left everything is hurting and I just want to
stop and cease this intolerable suffering. Running across the causeway back to Keswick
on a now beautiful afternoon unknown people stop and cheer you on. Turning the
corner into the high street and the Moot Hall, which I left 24 hours ago is now
in sight. I still cannot relax as seconds will count and sprint (realistically
slow shuffle) up the street being cheered on by all the tourists, finally
touching the doors at the Moot Hall and collapse. That was close by 4 seconds
but just enough. Great pacing.

My sincere thanks to all who helped pacers and
support without whom I would not have succeeded.

BOOM – BG done and a PB!

Jon